Roland assumed a fighting stance, which only made the security corps officers arrayed on the steps ready their crossbows to fire.
“Now, now, Assistant Roland,” Maestro Potter said with characteristic pomposity. “Don’t get any funny ideas. You have no power, here.”
“It’s true about me and Kirin,” Vi sang in Roland’s heart. She was furious. “They turned the lesser fantasians against me! They’re supposed to be mine! The feisty little traitors!” She continued on a long, angry rant, and Roland tried to block it out, asking Kirin for clarification.
“The same is true of the earth fantasians,” Kirin sang. “Their loyalty has been tied to the Tower, rather than to us, where it should reside. I always thought the Maestro was a rude, overbearing taskmaster. But I never imagined he was capable of this — twisting the natural order. He’s a cruel villain, worse than we ever could have feared.”
But how could he have done this? Roland asked in his heart, as he turned his gaze to Maestro Potter. He’d always had a similar opinion of him to Kirin — and a very low opinion of the Maestro’s actual ability. He seemed to have gotten his position due to politicking and connections, rather than earning it through talent and hard work. But if he was able to change the loyalties of the Tower’s lesser fantasians, and turn them against the Fantasians…
“They are in a thrall,” Kirin sang, and Roland’s blood ran cold — and rare anger flared inside him. To turn innocent, beautiful creatures into slaves to a tyrannical, human will… He’d sorely underestimated Maestro Potter. Both his ability, and his cruelty.
“Well, Assistant Roland?” Maestro Potter asked. “Give up the children peacefully, and no one has to get hurt.”
“As if that’s gonna happen,” Tsubasa said softly, for her group’s ears only.
Can we set the fantasians free? Roland asked.
“If we had several hours at least, coupled with total peace and quiet, sure,” Vi sang, her voice a mixture of frustration and a deep, aching grief.
Then… we must focus on escaping. One day, we shall set this right. But today… Shureen?
“I am ready,” came the serene song of Shureen.
“I’m sorry, Maestro,” Roland said. “But I’m going to disappoint you, as usual.”
He pivoted into a sweeping kick, as Shureen’s song bubbled up inside of him. Water erupted out of thin air, blasting up the stairs, washing the crossbowmen away — and, in particular, focusing on soaking the weapons’ components, rendering them useless. The security corps officers on the high platform with the Maestro raised their crystal wands, calling upon their magical artes, but Muirrach sang, his song a veil of protection. Magical artes launched from crystal wands fizzled out and died, going nowhere.
“Let’s move!” Tsubasa said, sprinting for the stairs. Roland and Muirrach followed more slowly, keeping the twins between them. Muirrach continued to sing, maintaining his continuous melodic arte.
High above, Maestro Potter gaped, and Roland heard his feeble gasp of astonishment. “He’s formed the pact with Shureen…?”
But their escape wasn’t yet guaranteed. Those officers Roland had swept away with Shureen’s water were already back on their feet. Casting down their ruined crossbows, they drew smallswords and daggers and moved to block the stairs. Tsubasa leapt to engage two in the lead, her tonfas ringing against their swords and daggers.
Immediately, the challenge was made apparent — these were not Reunion grunts, feeble in close-quarters combat, easy for Tsubasa to dispatch by the dozens. These were elite military officers, trained and equipped to protect one of the most important places in the Kingdom. Lightning-fast thrusts threatened to slip past Tsubasa’s defenses, and her own attacks were ably blocked and parried. There was an intense exchange, Tsubasa against the pair, and then she managed to battle past the defenses of one and score a strong punch right in that officer’s face. She dropped, but her partner continued the fight, and Tsubasa had to step back onto defense for a moment.
And that moment would have turned perilous, as three more officers were racing to join the fight.
Roland sang, and punched upwards, calling forth a pillar of water to erupt underneath the trio, sending them flying back to the stairs, where they crashed against the stonework and collapsed, unconscious.
But there were so many. The stairs were long, and the security corps had brought enough officers to have one on every single step — and more on the balcony above. It was Roland, Tsubasa, and Muirrach against at least sixty, from what Roland could see. They had the twins to protect, and Muirrach was fully engaged with defending them from magical attacks from above. For the immediate threats, the officers rushing to engage them in close-quarters combat, it was up to Tsubasa and Roland alone to fight through.
Tsubasa dispatched her second opponent and then leapt into a high, spinning attack, her tonfas batting down the next officer’s weapons, and a kick following up to send them flying. She landed neatly, parried a pair of thrusts, and slipped back into the defense, working to find a way past her next two opponents’ guards. Roland played her support, blasting other officers with water from below, above, the sides, never letting them predict where the next magical attack would come from.
But the officers were adjusting. One engaged a defensive arte engraved in his sword, and Roland’s next watery strike was weakened — though the officer was blasted in the face by water, and flinched back and shook it off, he wasn’t defeated, and called out to his allies with the right harmonic resonance that could weaken Shureen’s power.
“Perfect pitch can be such a pain,” Vi sang grumpily.
“But we can adjust in kind,” Shureen sang, unperturbed. “Switch to the fifth variation, Roland. That should stymie them.”
Right! Roland adjusted the song at Shureen’s instruction, almost smiling despite the situation. His bond with Shureen — with the Fantasian that had so terrified him six years ago, who had injured his Teacher, who had ended his Path of the Eight prematurely — was so powerful, so complete. They were in perfect sync, and as he shifted to a variation of her song, he took particular pleasure in watching his next jet of water crash through the defenses of the same officer that had first figured out a counter to Shureen, sending him flying.
“Nice one!” Tsubasa said, dropping into a low spinning kick that swept her foes’ legs out from under them, and then finishing them with quick strikes to the head to make sure they stayed down. But she was swiftly confronted by three more officers, without making any headway. The fighting was fierce, and they were using excellent teamwork and tactical observation to adjust to Tsubasa’s style and throw her off-balance. She was more than a match for any of them individually, but they were skilled enough to tip the scales with just two or three fighting as a team. One thrust snuck through her defenses, coming frighteningly close to her face — she only just barely back-stepped in time to avoid it, but that put her completely on the defensive, starting to retreat as she parried their attacks.
And more officers were rushing down the stairs, activating defensive artes, grouping up and adjusting to Roland and Tsubasa. They had the advantage of numbers, and Roland could already feel his never-reliable stamina dwindling.
We need a way up. The stairs… they won’t do. They’re already starting to find a way out and spread out more, making things more difficult. If this keeps up, we’ll be surrounded for sure!
And then Jurall’s imposing, confident voice sounded in his heart. “Come now, little Summoner. Do you have so small a view of your power? Look at what you’ve done so far. Look at the Pacts you’ve forged — four Fantasians, living inside you, who have sworn to serve you of their own volition. Why limit yourself with small-mindedness? Dream, Summoner! You won’t be worthy of the Second Quartet unless you believe you can grasp the stars themselves!”
Vi began to chastise Jurall, annoyed at the tone he took with Roland, but Roland blocked that out. His thoughts turned to Jurall’s Canon, the most challenging of them all — and the one that had tested his powers the most, where other Canons had tested his intelligence and creativity the most. The beasts he’d fought on the climb to the top of the volcano, and then within the Canon itself… how well he had fought with Shureen, conquering what would have terrified him mere months before…
“Do you have so small a view of your own power?” Perhaps I have. This isn’t a Canon, I’m not fighting titanic beasts, but the challenge is just as great. The need for my powers is just as great.
Don’t be small-minded. Power isn’t just what Jurall believes it is. Martial power, to sweep away all my foes… no.
There’s another way to win.
He launched a powerful wave that swept all the officers away — for the moment. They would rise, but Roland wasn’t worried about that. He just needed a few moments. He stepped back, pulled out his ocarina, closed his eyes, and began to play.
Fear was swept away as he played the calming notes of Shureen’s song. Her melody was a part of him, a deep wellspring of courage and serenity inside his heart, always there if he only asked for it. He’d been far more frightened than he’d realized — and hurt, in many ways he’d never been prepared for. Betrayed by those he trusted, those he believed in, and beset by foes he should have been able to call friends…
But those anxieties washed away in Shureen’s voice, brought forth through the song he played on his ocarina. The song went beyond him, beyond the notes, expanding to fill the entire massive chamber of the crystal core. A rising tide was building, and there was no force of arms that could stop a force of nature.
He felt the floor beneath him change, and felt his friends gather around him. The solid floor of the crystal chamber transformed into a different kind of solidity, one that emanated a chill into the air, the frigid chill of winter — Roland’s favorite time of year. The joy that comparison brought only emboldened his courage, only completed his serenity.
There was nothing to fear. And there was nothing he and Shureen could not do.
He heard soft gasps from Erika and Enrique as the new ground beneath their feet shifted, and then…
Began to rise.
There were shouts, cries of alarm and disbelief. But no danger came their way. What could threaten them now? A song filled the air, Shureen’s power was on full display, and Roland stood at the heart of it, eyes closed, serene.
It was only when Shureen told him it was time that he opened his eyes. And he found himself looking eye-to-eye at Maestro Potter and Sharla, standing atop a platform of ice, suspended on a great pillar of water, at the same level as the balcony at the top of the chamber.
Roland lowered his ocarina, but the song still echoed in the air. Maestro Potter gaped at him, his expression a mixture of terrified awe and hungry ambition. “This power…” he said softly. “This amazing power… Assistant Roland… I always knew you could rise to such heights!”
“This power isn’t yours, Maestro,” Roland said. “And it never will be.” With a gesture, he called forth a surge of water that smothered whatever Maestro Potter was going to say next, and swept him away. Roland stepped off of the platform, and his friends followed him, alighting on the balcony. There they faced Sharla, and the dozen officers arrayed with her. At her side, her second-in-command stood ready, sword and dagger poised to strike.
But Sharla hadn’t drawn her blades. She looked, as she had when she’d first apologized to Roland, truly sorry for this turn of events.
“Please,” Roland said. “Allow us to go on our way.”
Sharla hesitated. Beside her, her second-in-command took a step forward, ready to attack. “Stand down!” Sharla ordered, loud enough for all to hear.
“But captain!” her second said, glaring.
“Stand down,” Sharla said firmly. She turned her attention back to Roland. “I can give you a head start. But I’ll have to follow soon. And I have no authority over those stationed at the Academy. You can’t go home. I’m… sorry. This is the best I can do.”
“I understand,” Roland said, and he smiled. “Thank you.” Sharla nodded, then looked away. Roland led his team past her, out through the seven doors, and into the lift, which took them back up to the manufactory.
“What do we do?” Erika asked. “The Lighthouse… that was our only clue forward, and it was a lie.”
“We need somewhere we can regroup and think about our next steps,” Muirrach. “Perhaps the safest thing to do would be to return to Wonderia.”
“There’s a door in your dorm!” Erika said, looking to Roland.
“But Sharla said there are officers stationed at the Academy,” Roland said. “I… can’t go home.”
The reality of the situation was sinking in. His time at the Tower and the Academy hadn’t always been happy — he was never one to fit in with social circles, and he preferred to keep to himself, to work on his own projects, and sometimes missed important deadlines. But he had loved his work at the Tower, and had enjoyed some of the company he kept. Including Sharla — he’d always thought her a good acquaintance, very nearly a friend.
And while his dorm at the Academy wasn’t the ideal living space, he’d made it his own, and it was… not quite “home,” it didn’t feel like it, but it was the closest he’d come to something like home since he’d lived with Eilidh in Wonderia as a teen and young adult.
Now it was all gone. All ripped from him, in one fell blow.
The lift opened onto the manufactory, and they hurried to the huge industrial lift, Roland throwing that into a hasty ascent. As they rose, Roland conferred with his Fantasians — consoling Vi, thanking Shureen and Jurall — and then Tsubasa laid a hand on his arm.
“You good?” she asked, searching his eyes.
“Physically, yes,” Roland said. He met her gaze, and she understood the unsaid, and didn’t press.
They reached the top, and rushed across the main floor, down the corridor, through the empty lobby, and finally out into the city and the cool night air.
“Now where do we go?” Enrique asked.
“Probably run,” Tsubasa said, pointing to the left. Roland looked and saw a squad of security corps officers, stationed outside the Academy, take notice of them. After a moment, the officers started sprinting for them.
“Right,” Roland said. They started running, but it instantly felt like a lost cause. The twins couldn’t manage a pace that would outrun trained military officers, and Roland could feel his heart and lungs protesting after the efforts he’d already been forced to make.
Tsubasa seemed to notice this, and made a beeline for the sidewalk. Before she even reached it, she waved her hand and shouted, “Hey, taxi!” Then she stuck two fingers in her mouth and whistled loud enough to wake an entire city block.
A second later, tires squealed as a cab pulled up beside them. Tsubasa flung open the door and ushered the others in, leaping in behind them and slamming the door shut. Before the driver could even ask “Where to?” Tsubasa shouted, “Just step on it!”
A squealing of tires, and a lurch of the cab that nearly flung Roland and the twins out of their seat, and the cab was racing away — just as the security corps officers were about to reach it. They stood on the curb, three of them glaring and one of them pulling out a short-range radio.
“Well, that buys us a little time,” Tsubasa said, breathing a sigh.
“Them were the Tower’s security corps, weren’t they?” asked the driver, an older chap with warm brown eyes and a friendly smile. “Are you lot some kinda criminals? Stole summat from the Tower?” He eyed them in the rearview mirror.
Roland reached into his pocket for his identification, and Tsubasa and Erika both started to argue with the driver, when he burst out laughing. “Makes no difference to me,” he said. “I didn’t see nothin’. And if the coppers can’t catch ya, that’s on them, innit? Not my fault if they fail at their jobs, eh?”
“I mean,” Tsubasa said, “there is this thing called aiding and abetting —”
“Thank you,” Roland said, meeting the cabby’s eyes in the mirror, and smiling gratefully to him.
“Don’t you mention it,” said the cabby, turning his eyes back on the road. “But seriously, where to? I can drive all night if ya want, but you’ll be runnin’ my meter. Just so ya know.”
“Well?” Muirrach asked. “No one happens to know of a nearby door to Wonderia, do they?”
“No,” Roland said. “At least, not one that won’t be guarded. We… may have to leave the city.” And he realized what that meant. The Leucen Kingdom was a small island nation. They could leave the capital, but that would only give them so much more ground to try and run — and nowhere that Roland knew where they could reliably lie low. He wasn’t flush with connections. Such was the price of being a loner.
They’d have to leave the country.
“Hey,” Tsubasa started, leaning towards the front seat. “Is the ferry to Granthaven running this late at night?”
“Every three hours,” said the driver, “even after midnight.” He checked his wristwatch. “Should be just docking now. I can take ya to the ferry terminal, if ya like?”
“Yes, please!” Tsubasa said. The driver made a hard right turn, and they were on their way.
“Granthaven?” Erika asked.
“It’s across the strait, on the continent,” Tsubasa said. “And it’s just a short train ride away from Gardenia.”
“Gardenia?” Erika asked.
But Roland realized what she was thinking. “Your home,” he said.
Tsubasa looked across at him and nodded. “Yeah,” she said. “It’ll be safe, there. No doors to Wonderia nearby, but my parents, or grandparents, or brothers… well, somebody’ll know where to find one. And more importantly, it’ll be safe.” She smiled. “Don’t you worry. My family’s gonna love you guys.”