Chapter 761: Guide

Beatrice stopped her father’s bed when the pale line swept across the road ahead.

The soldier guiding them raised his hand.

"Wait."

Behind her, the next bed nearly struck the frame.

"Stop there," she told the people pushing it. "Give us room."

Rovan braced a wheel with his boot. His good hand stayed on the rail, and the cloth over his other shoulder had become almost entirely red.

Beatrice looked toward the fighting at the far end of the avenue.

A man with a blood-colored hammer struck one of the red-eyed attackers away from the flames. Beside him, a woman held two swords while ice spread between the buildings.

The pale line lifted out of the road.

Their guide motioned them forward.

"Now. Through the junction, then turn east. Don’t go toward the fighting."

Rovan pushed.

Beatrice moved beside her father with the staff under her arm. Her leg hurt each time she put weight on it, but the ground here was flatter than the broken yard behind the shelter.

They could move faster if no one stopped in front of them.

One of the walking patients stared at their guide. When the soldier called to another fighter, the man’s gaze dropped to the guide’s exposed fangs.

"They’re vampires."

Beatrice had already noticed.

The red-eyed creatures behind them were vampires too. So were the people carrying the wounded through the avenue, and those standing between the beds and the attackers.

Right now, she cared far more about which ones were trying to kill them.

"They opened the road," she said.

"The Imperial ships—"

A blast struck beyond the roofs.

The man flinched. Dust scattered over the beds as a piece of the damaged vessel shifted against the building behind it.

Beatrice tightened her grip on the rail.

"I can see the ships. I can’t see another way to take my father out."

She kept moving.

The man stayed near the bed for another moment, looking back toward the administrative hall. Then he went to help the nurse turn the patient behind them.

At the junction, their guide stopped to pull fallen stone out of the beds’ path. He used both hands, leaving his weapon against the wall.

A wounded vampire sat nearby with one leg held stiffly in front of him. His eyes followed the group without the empty red stare Beatrice had seen in the attackers.

He moved his uninjured leg out of the way as her father’s bed passed.

Her father looked at him, then at the battlefield beyond the flames.

"Who is holding them back?"

Beatrice had been trying not to watch for too long. Every moment she spent looking away made it harder to keep the bed clear of the people beside her.

The man with the hammer drove an attacker away from the road and turned toward the junction. He was close enough now for her to see his face.

Her fingers tightened on the rail.

The man who had bought their building was standing at the end of the road.

Rovan saw him too.

"Master."

The word came out quietly. It was still enough for her father to turn toward Beatrice.

"That’s the new owner," she told him.

Her father looked back toward the flames. Beatrice couldn’t tell what he made of the new owner now. She hardly knew what to think herself.

She had seen his power beneath the city. Seeing him here, spending it to hold back another army, did not make it easier to reconcile him with the man who had walked into her father’s shop. She had argued with her father about trusting the new owner. Now that man stood between her father and the things coming down the road.

A red-eyed body reached the edge of the fire.

The hammer drove it back before it could turn toward the patients.

Beatrice looked down at her father.

"We have to keep going."

He drew his arms closer beneath the blanket and left her room to grip the frame.

Rovan pulled the bed into the eastward turn.

The turn pulled against his injured shoulder. He stopped, face pale, and his good hand slipped on the rail.

Their guide caught the front corner before the bed struck the wall. He came around to the rail beside Rovan.

"I’ll get this around the turn."

Rovan tried to regain his grip, but the soldier glanced at his blood-soaked shoulder.

"You can walk beside it."

Rovan hesitated before releasing the frame.

Beatrice waited until he had moved out of the wheel’s path before following the bed. He had pushed it all the way from the shelter. She could see how difficult it was for him to stop doing the one thing that had let them keep moving.

"Stay where I can see you," she said.

He nodded and came around to her side.

The soldier guided them beyond the junction. Other beds followed, with the nurses and walking patients keeping close behind them.

A shout from the rear of the group made Beatrice turn.

The last bed had stopped at the corner. One of the women pushing it had fallen, leaving the nurse struggling to keep the frame from blocking the road.

Rovan took a step back toward them.

Beatrice caught his sleeve. His injured shoulder was shaking even without the bed’s weight to strain it.

"Call him," she said, pointing to their guide.

Rovan raised his voice.

The soldier looked back and signaled another fighter at the junction. Together they turned the last bed, then helped the fallen woman stand.

Beatrice released Rovan’s sleeve.

He watched until the woman had her balance, then followed again.

They reached the open space behind a row of low buildings. The army had brought its wounded there, away from the direct firing lines. People lay on cloaks or leaned against the wall while others checked their injuries. ℯ

It was crowded, but the beds could fit along the sheltered side.

Their guide helped the nurse place Beatrice’s father beside the first two patients. Then he went back for the others before anyone had time to thank him.

Beatrice lowered herself onto a broken stone near the bed.

Her leg throbbed now that she had stopped. Rovan sat against the wall a few steps away, pressing his good hand against his shoulder.

Her father reached toward her.

She took his hand.

He was still warm. His breath was shallow, and he looked exhausted, but his fingers closed around hers.

The last bed came around the corner.

Beatrice counted the patients from the shelter as they arrived. The nurse checked each one, calling for those who could still help to make room for the army’s wounded too.

Beyond the buildings, another impact shook the ice above the road.

A vampire staggered into the open space carrying a woman across his arms. He laid her down near the wall and stayed kneeling beside her.

He touched the woman’s neck, then slowly closed her eyes.

Beatrice looked away and held her father’s hand more carefully.

Outside, the fighting continued.