“How many?” the old man demanded.

“Twelve. Maybe thirteen,” the boy replied. “Two floors down.”

“And the avatar?”

“Headed for the East Citadel.”

“With the beacon?”

“Yes.”

The old man nodded, grunted. He turned away from the boy and looked at the others gathered in the small bedchamber. Without a fire, they huddled together for warmth. Though the worst of the night was held at bay by the heavy, wooden shutters, its chill still slipped between the boards and leached away their strength and courage. Not counting the old man and the boy, there were six of them: four men, two women. Three were wounded. One, badly.

The old man walked to the center of the room and took a seat at the table there. He beckoned the others to him. When they had all gathered around, he drew aside his cloak and unfastened a metal flask from his belt. He unstopped the flask and sniffed its contents.

“Pazrana,” he said. “It’ll give us strength and courage, for a short time.”

“Time enough?” a woman asked.

He nodded. “Time enough.”

The old man took a sip from the flask and passed it among his fellows. Each took a drink from it until it reached the boy. The old man smiled and nodded. “A small sip,” he advised. The boy raised the flask to his lips and sipped. He passed the flask back to the old man, who refastened it to his belt and stood, hefting his staff and smiling.

“Time to prepare.”

The others followed the old man’s lead and readied their weapons. A pleasant warmth spread through their limbs as they steeled themselves. It pushed away their weariness and deadened their aches, annulled the pain of their cracked bones and torn skin.

The old man pointed at two with blades. “Take the sides of the door. Stay low. Cut down their legs when they rush in.” To the others, he said, “Move the furniture into a pile in the center of the room, then stand ready by the side walls. Once they get in, they’ll have to go around the pile to get to you. That’ll give you the edge.” Then, to the boy: “Stay hidden by the door. Once it’s clear, run out and fetch the avatar.”

The boy frowned, then nodded.

They did as the old man directed, then waited.

It was not long before they heard the Shahudiri in the hallway.

Then at the door.

As the first kick landed, the brightest of lights exploded into the chamber, not from the hallway beyond, but through the cracks and slats of the shutters. It was a light of untold brightness and unmatched purity. It banished their fear instantly and filled them with boundless hope.

Then the door burst open and the Shahudiri rushed in.