They rode the horses they had stolen from the ambush site until the beasts collapsed. Then they ran.
It took them a day and a night to reach Ironhold.
Kael was exhausted. His new sword felt like lead at his hip. The obsidian cylinder, tucked into a pouch against his skin, felt like a block of ice. It never warmed up.
When they saw the walls of Ironhold rising from the mist, Kael felt a surge of relief that was almost painful.
"Safe," Jax wheezed, stumbling.
Karn didn't answer. He was sniffing the air. "Too quiet."
They entered the fortress. It was bustling as usual, but there was a tension. Guards were running to the walls. Archers were stringing bows.
They went straight to Vane's tower.
Vane was waiting. He looked impeccable, drinking wine from a crystal goblet while looking at a map.
"We have it," Karn said, tossing the pouch onto the table. The cylinder clattered.
Vane's eyes widened. He picked it up with a handkerchief. "Magnificent."
"We lost three men," Karn said. "And the Black Banner knows it was us."
"Collateral damage," Vane dismissed. He opened a drawer and threw two heavy purses of gold onto the table. "Bonus. Go get drunk. You earned it."
Kael looked at the gold. Then at Vane. "They saw us. Commander Kaelen saw us."
Vane smiled. "Kaelen is a brute. He won't breach Ironhold. Now, go."
***
Kael didn't go to the tavern. He went to the infirmary.
Elric was sitting up, sharpening a dagger. He looked better. The fever had broken.
"You're alive," Elric said.
"Barely." Kael sat down heavily. "We stole something. A black cylinder. Obsidian. It hummed."
Elric dropped the dagger.
"A Soul-Lock," Elric whispered. His face went pale. "They aren't trying to open a crypt, Kael. They're trying to wake a Lich."
"A what?"
"A War-Caster. From the Ash Era. If Vane has that key... he can sell it to the highest bidder, or he can use it to level kingdoms."
"Vane thinks he's safe," Kael said. "He thinks Kaelen won't attack."
Elric laughed. A bitter, dry sound. "Vane is a merchant. He thinks in gold. Kaelen thinks in blood."
BOOM.
The fortress shook. Dust rained down from the ceiling. A deep, resonant thud echoed through the stone.
"What was that?" Kael stood up.
BOOM.
"Trebuchets," Elric said, grabbing his sword belt. He winced as he stood up, but he stood. "Siege engines."
They ran to the battlements.
The sight that greeted them stopped Kael's breath.
The valley below Ironhold wasn't empty. It was a sea of black banners. Hundreds of tents.
Thousands of soldiers. And in the center, three massive trebuchets were being loaded with burning pitch.
"They didn't just track us," Kael whispered. "They marched."
"They want the Key," Elric said. "And they will burn this mountain to the ground to get it."
On the wall, Vane was screaming orders. But Kael could see the fear in the crime lord's eyes. He hadn't expected an army.
"We have to leave," Elric said.
"Where?"
"The tunnels. The old smuggler routes. Vane will use them to escape. We need to be ahead of him."
"And the Vanguard?" Kael asked. "Karn? Jax?"
"Dead men walking," Elric said. "Unless they're smart enough to run."
As the third fireball slammed into the main gate, shattering the timber, Kael realized the truth.
Ironhold wasn't a fortress anymore. It was a coffin.