It quickly became apparent to Mitchell that the guardsmen or soldiers they'd had on the shoddy barrier had been there merely to inspire a little fear in the locals. The real danger had been held back in reserve for when the wall was overrun.

As he and the squad turned north to get to the nearest gate, they met the first bit of true resistance, a group of eight soldiers all of whom were better armed and trained than any Mitchell had come up against so far. They seemed used to working as a group and there were two casters among them.

Immediately spells were fired off, shields cast and answering spells thrown on both sides. Mitchell knew that his weaker spells would have little effect against the superior armor worn by the enemies they now faced, so he saved the effort and worked on using his martial skills. Were he a regular guy, he would have been in serious trouble as his few months of training were no match for career soldiers, but the faster reflexes granted to him by the heart stone more than made up for any difficulty.

He could feel his power and, even without the full bonding, he was very close to Awen now. As his blade met his first opponent, it was almost like the guy was fighting drunk. Between his enhanced senses and the adrenaline flooding his system, he could see every twitch the burly soldier made, every turn of the hips or the set of the shoulders that would indicate where the man was going with his next strike. Mitchell wasn't an expert by any means, but he didn't have to be with his senses and his mind in overdrive like that. It was as though Mitchell were reading a book as his mind processed all the little bits of information and it allowed him to overcome the vast gulf between his training and theirs.

Around him, he caught glimpses of the battle raging. Thankfully, he saw many guardsmen who had defected and were now fighting against the soldiers who had occupied their city for so long. He wanted to go and defend them, but as he struck down the soldier in front of him and another one took his place, he knew that he could not. If he didn't make it to the barrier and into the palace, the people who were fighting and dying for him and Allora would have died for nothing.

"How you holding up?" Mitchell called over to Lethelin as they hacked their way through the first set of soldiers. Of all of them, the thief was at the biggest disadvantage, but she seemed to be doing fairly well and Vras was staying by her side.

"I'd prefer to be sitting up on a rooftop somewhere," she panted as they started to jog foward. "I don't like attacking dead on, but you guys are moving too fast so it's keep up or get left behind."

"You move like a dancer," Vanthella said. "It is most impressive."

If Lethelin's face wasn't already red from exertion, she might have blushed.

"Thank you, Lady Vanthella!"

"Eyes front!" Gilriel called.

And with that, all chatter cut off as they engaged the next series of soldiers. Mitchell lost himself in the ebb and flow of the battle. Everything was noise and chaos. Lighting spells arced through the air, filling his nose with the smell of ozone. Fire scorched the earth and exploded trees, turning the once peaceful parkland into a hellscape. All around were the sounds of screams. Some in triumph, some in pain. As they pushed forward through the troops, they had to turn around and protect their rear more than once as soldiers caught up from behind. Gem stones were being burned through at a prodigious rate as they fought to counter enemy casters and break up formations of troops angling for them. What had started as a run towards the north quickly became a slow crawl. The word was well and truly out and someone was directing the soldiers to hunt them down and stop them.

Wounds started accumulating. Hackett, by far the most skilled healer, was relegated to field medic as he tried to keep everyone in fighting shape. Mitchell also helped out where he could since his few spells were of limited use.

"This isn't working!" Mitchell called out as they fought their way through another group of soldiers. "They're going to wear us down! We need to do something else."

"The gate is only a few hundred meters up ahead," Gilriel said.

"I'm out of mana," Elrin said, panting. She had a blood running down one side of her face and her armor was sporting several new rips, some of which dripped blood.

"I'm running low as well," Hackett said, his face pale from mana drain.

To Mitchell's right just thirty meters away, was the shield.

All around, people were running, looking for soldiers. Many of them looked wounded and exhausted, but they were still fighting. Mitchell's party had found a rare space to catch their breath, hiding in the shadow of a pavilion-like structure but he knew they didn't have much time before they were found.

"Can't we just make a run for the shield here?" he asked.

"Can you get us all through?" Eldrick asked, as he held a cloth to his sister's bleeding head.

"I don't know," Mitchell admitted. "And it might drop completely as soon as I cross over. Awen was unable to give any assurances that it would remain in place long enough for me to get to the throne room. But at this rate, I don't think we can make it to the gate."

"If we were on the inside of the barrier," Allora said, "and we had time before it dropped, we could get to the gate and make it to the throne room without them hounding our steps."

"Or," Elrin said, wincing slightly from the pain, "the barrier collapses as soon as Lord Mitchell crosses and every soldier in the city charges in."

"Six of one, half a dozen of the other," Mitchell said. "Our original plan to get to the gate and bar it behind us is not going to work, I don't think. There's just too many and the people can't be organized to any sort of coordinated defense."

"Maybe if we had had more time to prepare," Falen offered, speaking up for the first time, "but the riot was the best we could do given the circumstances."

Mitchell's mind raced as he tried to make a decision. On the one hand, the barrier might hold out for a short time once he crossed through it. According to Allora, once he had completed the bond and could access the palace defenses, they would win the day. But if the barrier collapsed immediately, it would allow the troops access to every gate and the palace would become overrun in moments. With no monarch on the throne to bring the guardians and protectors online, there would be nothing to stop them.

"Do you think the barrier will last long enough for me to get to the throne room?" Mitchell asked Awen, sending the query through the bond they shared.

"If it begins to fail, I can try to strengthen it, but the more power I push through the wards and gemstones, the more I risk overloading the entire network. It may be that you gain a few minutes of additional protection only to see it collapse all at once, rather than in stages. Every gemstone that fails puts more stress on those remaining. If I channel my power into some they will degrade faster and that could start a cascade failure across the entire system."

"I think we will have to risk it," Mitchell told Awen. "Our plan to cross only at the gate is not going to work. We need to cross now, run for the gate and try to get to the throne room before it collapses completely."

"I will do what I can," Awen said.

Mitchell returned his focus back to the world around him and told them what he wanted to do.

"There is a chance that I won't be able to get you all through and that the barrier will fail entirely once I pass through it. But I don't think we can make it to the gate otherwise. Our best bet is to try and cross here and then run for the gate before the barrier collapses entirely."

"Sounds like we risk the dragon's maw either way," Khardin said.

"Agreed," Hackett said.

Vanthella merely shrugged and Edrick and Elrin nodded in unison.

"What do you want to do?" Allora asked.

"I say we try the barrier. If we keep pushing through, I worry we'll be overrun. Risking the barrier failing gives us the best chance of success."

"Alright then, you heard Lord Mitchell," Gilriel snapped, her old instructor voice like a lash across exposed flesh. "On your feet and make for the barrier. Defensive positions as he passes through and we go from there."

They arose as one, breaking cover. Both in front of their sheltered position and behind, there were squads fighting with citizens, but Mitchell could still hear the call as they were spotted. Without delay, they all broke into a dead sprint as spells and arrows began to fall around them. Mitchell heard someone in the group yell in pain but didn't dare stop to see who it was.

Shield spells were flashing up all around as they tried to get clear of the barrage. Mitchell was sure they were going to make it. Just ten more meters. Then something struck him in leg, his arm and side. It felt like he'd taken three nasty punches and his leg and sword arm went numb as he stumbled. His sword fell from his grasp and someone barreled into him from behind both going down in a tangle of arms and legs.

Stolen novel; please report.

"Mitchell!" Allora screamed as he struggled to work out what just happened. He looked down and saw blood coming from his leg and arm but whatever had struck him in the chest hadn't penetrated his armor. There was a sudden streak of black as Vras tore across the grass at the spell caster who'd launched the magical assault. The woman's eyes went wide in abject terror as she saw her own death come for her. She tried to backpedal but the shadow cat was too fast.

Vras leapt, all six claws extended, and bore the woman to the ground where he literally shredded her alive in an explosion of blood and viscera. The soldiers who had been charging with her gaped and then Vras was on them, a whirlwind of teeth and claws, many of them dying before they even had a chance to react. The animal tore through their armor as if it were paper, disemboweling one here, hamstringing another there, then casually slashing open a throat as the body fell. Mitchell had never imagined something killing with that kind of speed. It wasn't just his power that made him terrifying, Vras acted with forethought. He was not a mindless killing machine, he was the physical manifestation of death itself. In seconds, all six were dead with Vras at the center of the carnage like the calm eye in a hurricane of pain. Mitchell finally understood why they inspired such fear and it turned his bones to ice.

Soldiers that were nearby and witnessed the display turned and ran as Vras emerged, from the carnage literally dripping in blood.

"Gods above," someone said as Allora knelt beside him, casting healing on his leg and arms.

"What hit me?" Mitchell asked as she pulled him to his feet.

"Arcane missile," she said, checking him over.

"I'm okay," he told her. "Let's go."

Vras's display had broke the nerve of many of the charging soldiers and the citizens and they began to run. Still, Vras wasn't done yet, and began chasing down stragglers, their screams and cries for mercy mixing in with the sounds of battle all around them.

"I could have gone my whole life without seeing someone die like that," Lethelin said, looking a little green around the gills.

"Just remember he's on our side," Mitchell told her, trying to remind himself of that as well.

Mitchell saw Hackett, then, the halfling sporting burns down his left side.

"Are you okay?"

The archer grimaced but nodded.

"Eldritch fire, my lord. I'll be fine. I couldn't get my shield up in time. But the armor took the worst of it."

Mitchell gave the man's uninjured shoulder a squeeze. All of them were carrying wounds of one kind of another, but they were still standing.

"Almost there," he told them.

They moved as fast as their injured bodies would allow and then Mitchell was in front of the barrier for the first time. About five meters beyond it, stood the imposing wall of multicolored onyx stones. Down about twenty feet to his right was one of the guardians. A twenty-food carving of a male elf holding a giant glaive.

This close, he could see the shimmer of the magical shield, its color a translucent pink. There were small ripples and eddies, almost like it was a liquid. It was beautiful and hypnotic to watch and Mitchell struggled to pull his eyes away from it.

He knew that he needed to place his hand against the barrier and it would allow him entrance. The big question was if the quasi-sentient spell—for he was assured that such large spells like this sometimes took on a life of their own—would allow the others to pass. He had no idea how that would work but now was the time.

"Here we go," he said to no one in particular, and he placed his palm on the barrier.

Immediately he felt a resistance, an almost electrical shock, and the barrier vibrated against his palm. He knew that the initial feeling one got when coming in contact with the barrier was meant to serve as a warning. But if one persisted, the intensity would grow and eventually burn the person to ash.

He felt that tingle against his palm but then it changed abruptly. There was a... presence in his head. It was tentative, he could sense the hesitation as the awareness flowed through him, as it if was seeking to know him. Around Mitchell, the world went quiet and his vision narrowed down to a tiny point just ahead of him, locked on a swirling section of the barrier. As the feeling moved through his arm and into his chest, he felt it connect with something—presumably the heart stone—and there was a sense of recognition. Immediately, Mitchell's hand passed through the substance of the barrier and was through to the other side.

The presence in his mind receded and the world came back into startling focus. Around him his friends had taken up a defensive ring as suddenly there were troops coming from every direction. He didn't know how that had happened but somehow the spell had played with his perception of time. It had felt like only seconds to him, but clearly it had been longer than that. He looked around and saw that Lethelin was on the ground, blood pouring from a wound in her head, and Hackett was trying to heal her. How long had he been out?

"I'm through!" Mitchell screamed, and Allora dared a look back.

"Grab Lethelin, see if she can pass through the barrier with you!" Allora yelled, and fired off a crackling burst of electricity that struck an approaching soldier in his chest and neck setting the man's flesh boiling and causing his eyes to explode. "Hurry!"

Mitchell didn't have to be told twice. He reached down, grabbed Lethelin by the front of her leather armor, and heaved her up over his shoulder and began to push his whole body through the barrier. Suddenly, there was resistance. He felt her body stall at the magical barrier and heard a sizzling sound. The barrier was burning Lethelin's skin.

"No!" Mitchell yelled out. "It's not letting her through!"

"Then leave her! Get to the throne room yourself!" Allora yelled, her sword flashing to stop an arrow. "Awen can guide you there."

"I'm not leaving you all here to die!" Mitchell yelled.

"You must, Mitchell!" Allora said. "It is more important than us!"

Mitchell turned and stared at the barrier. He would not leave them here. He would not do this without them. Not without Allora and Lethelin. There had to be a way!

Mitchell stuck his hand back into the barrier and tried to find that sensation again, that awareness.

"My lord, what are you doing!" Gilriel yelled to him. "Get inside the barrier!"

Mitchell pushed her voice from his mind and focused. Where was it?

"I am the monarch," Mitchell said to the spell, trying to will it to hear him, to understand. "You must let those with me come in as well. I command it."

The seconds ticked like molasses on cold glass.

"Please!" Mitchell begged, hearing his friends fight for their lives behind him. "Please!"

The presence was there, in his mind once more. It was friendly. It didn't speak, Mitchell didn't know how he knew what it was feeling, but he could. Mitchell tried to talk to it. He tried to send it the image of the others and imagined them passing through the barrier.

There was a sense of wrongness in response. The barrier was rejecting them. It was a simple mind that understood only a few basic things. Mitchell could feel it understood its purpose and the exception that was allowed. They were not part of the exception.

"Awen, can you help?" Mitchell said, trying to divide his attention between the barrier consciousness and her. "Can you help it understand? It is a thing of you."

"The barrier is beginning to fail, Mitchell," came Awen's response. Her voice, normally so placid and soothing, contained a note of stress. "I am trying to balance the load."

"It's not letting the others through. Can you influence it?"

"I... I will try."

Seconds ticked by like years. Mitchell wanted to scream in frustration but he knew that wouldn't help.

"I think I have done it," Awen said, sounding almost tired. "Try again."

Without wasting another second Mitchell walked through the barrier with an unconscious Lethelin on his shoulder and she passed through without issue.

"Fuck yeah!" Mitchell screamed in English, and set her down as gently as he could.

He turned then and jumped back through to the other side.

"Everyone grab onto me!" he yelled a fireball struck the combined shields of Eldrick, Elrin, and Gilriel. Khardin screamed out as some of the flames found his flesh.

"To the nine hells with you, you dirt licking sacks of goblin nuts!" the battle-hardened dwarf screamed, and then his krisa flashed so brightly that Mitchell could see it even in the daylight and while standing behind him.

Immediately just in front of the dwarf, a large, green sphere formed in the air, about the size of a basketball, and it streaked toward the line of soldiers that were pressing their advantage. Mitchell saw one or two of the casters' eyes go wide as their shield spells went up but the regular soldiers were not so lucky. The sphere sped straight into their line and exploded with a shower of green liquid that covered everyone within about twenty feet. The screams were deafening as weapons, armor, and flesh began to melt. Only the casters within the blast radius who'd gotten their shields up in time were spared that horrible fate.

"Now!" Mitchell yelled into the pause in the fight that the spell had created. "Grab ahold and get behind the barrier! That's an order!"

The group of harried knights began to take backwards steps, reaching hands back for Mitchell while they tried to maintain focus on the fight. One by one, they found his outstretched arms and then Mitchell practically fell back behind the barrier, several of them landing on top of him, forcing the breath from his lungs.

"You did it, my lord!" Elrin yelled, pulling herself up.

Mitchell saw she was limping badly as she attempted to help the others to their feet.

"Yeah," Mitchell groaned as he sat up. "Come on. We need to hurry. The barrier is failing and we don't have much time.

Even as he spoke, Mitchell heard the sound of explosions coming from within the onyx wall. The gemstones that powered the wards were exploding. The barrier rippled with the sudden failure, even as they watched.

Mitchell leaned down and picked up Lethelin and put her over his shoulder. She was still unconscious.

"Wait, where's Vras?"

"He was harrying their back line the last I saw him," Vanthella said. "He was not with us when you were getting through the barrier."

Mitchell turned and scanned out over the heads of the massing soldiers who were gathering just behind the barrier, shouting and cursing at them, several of them testing the barrier with their weapons, or launching magical attacks.

"My lord, we must go," Gilriel said, her voice pleading. "We need to get you into the throne room before the barrier collapses if we can. The shadow cat can fend for himself."

"I didn't leave you behind, and I'm not leaving him behind," Mitchell said, his voice hard. "But let's get moving toward the gate. Vras will catch up."

They began a half jog, a half walk along the wall, heading for the gate that was close enough for Mitchell to see. The soldiers kept pace with them, promising all manner of revenge, neither he or his group had the energy to fire any taunts back at them. Mitchell heard more popping sounds from within the wall and the barrier shuddered again. Up ahead Mitchell saw a large tree, nearly as high as the wall itself, standing back about forty feet from the wall on the other side of the magical shield. As he watched, a black shape leapt from one of the branches right at the barrier.

"Vras?" Mitchell called out, "No!"

The barrier wouldn't let him through without Mitchell there to hold on to him and it might even kill him if he tried to force his way through.

But, to his utter shock, the shadow cat passed through the barrier and landed on the onyx wall, just near the gate, his claws digging into the stone with enough force that he was able to slide down leaving claw marks and sending shards of onyx flying in all directions. Then he came trotting up as if nothing was amiss and began sniffing at Lethelin's head wound.

They whole party had stopped to stare at him. Even the soldiers had taken several stepped back, no longer trusting the barrier to keep them safe from the shadow cat that had cut down so many of their fellows.

"How did you do that?" Mitchell asked him.

Vras looked at the barrier and then at Mitchell.

"I am gratha," he said, as if that explained everything.

Mitchell pressed for more information.

"There are gaps in this magic," Vras said at last. "When I saw one, I jumped through it."

Mitchell marveled at this creature but before he had time to question any further, there were three more small explosions from within the wall and Mitchell suddenly remembered they had a rather pressing task to complete.

Moving as quickly as they could, they got to the gate. Mitchell placed his hand against the ornate brass as he'd been instructed and he felt that awareness again. From within the frame, there was a click and the door swung open. With Lethelin on his shoulder and Allora at his side, he stepped within the palace walls.

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