A great mound of rubble at least three meters high blocked the last street before they reached their objective, and when they had struggled up the shifting bricks, debris, and jutting wood to reach the top of this, Rath paused to look over the .

The Training Complex had a huge, one-kilometer square, grass-covered parade ground surrounded by scores of long timber barracks, a few dozen various sized multi-storey brick buildings, and scattered training yards.

But all of the buildings had been was leveled and in at least three cases burned.

This was no real surprise and the devastation did not discourage Rath. The sight actually lifted his spirits.

The parade ground was full of people.

There were many hundreds and even perhaps thousands of civilians, and more squads of Shields than Rath could count going about tasks in good order. Work gangs were clearing rubble and searching building sites. There were long, straight rows of large white tents, cook fires with orderly queues receiving meals, and aid stations where medtechs were treating patients.

“Most of these units are Bear Lineage,” Vice-Exarch Llylm informed him. “There are some Wolf, but not many. Also some Lion, Badger, and Fox.”

“How can you tell?” Rath asked her. He had had a basic assumption that there were other Lineages than Wolf and Bear. Leopard had been the first Lineage other than those two that he had encountered. Most of the Shields were quite far away from their position, but the nearest squad were only twenty-five meters away just across a ring road that looped the entire parade ground. From what he could see, the field uniforms of the Shields were so extremely similar that they were indistinguishable.

“All the uniforms of the Shields carry a Lineage Device.” She turned out the inside of her left wrist and pointed out a tiny black chevron on her cuff that was no bigger than the end of his thumb. Banneret Fhreyhor helpfully did likewise.

“How can you see that from here?”

“One of my Gifts is Clear Sight,” the retired officer told him matter-of-factly.

Rath hid his surprise. Magic was not something that he took for granted and it had never occurred to him that the Elder would have Gifts.

“Bear Lineage has a green pinstripe around their left forearm,” she went on. “Lion has a brown lidded eye on the right epaulet of their jacket. Badger has a crimson ring on their left breast pocket. Fox has a silver star on their right upper sleeve.”

Rath thought for a moment. “Can you tell who is in command?”

Vice-Exarch Llylm turned her gaze upon the parade ground, sweeping the area north to south.

“There are many sergeants and corporals, some Optios, but higher ranks are few. The highest rank that I can see is a Vivode, but his uniform shows that he is First Cohort retired, so ten years older than me and no longer considered active reserve. Currently, he is working with a gang digging latrines.”

“So you outrank everyone here?”

“Technically, at least of those that are in the open. I am Third Cohort retired, less than five years, and still in the active reserve. However, without written orders, my authority might not be recognized.”

The ground trembled and all three of them froze, waiting.

The trembling went on for a couple of minutes, but never became strong.

When the trembling stopped, Rath let out the breath that he had been holding.

Bear Lineage had to be considered an enemy; they had contested his Ordeal and the ten members of Nemesis, all members of Bear Lineage, had even go so far as to become oath breakers in order to thwart him. It was unreasonable to expect that they would cooperate with him at all, even to evacuate their people, and trusting them was out of the question.

More than that, he had to recognize that bringing Bear Lineage as an organized force into The Wall had the potential to create a danger to the other refugees and all the people of the Custodian Nation.

Vice-Exarch Llylm and Banneret Fhreyhor were watching him, waiting for a decision.

“This is a problem that the three of us cannot solve,” Rath told them. “Banneret Fhreyhor, tell me about the Last Bastion.”

“It is the salvation of Wolf Lineage and the Monitor Nation,” the young officer replied. He glanced at Vice-Exarch Llylm. “More than that I cannot say unless the Final Command is given.”

Rath took only a second to decide that his ignorance of the details, the potential negative consequences of enacting something so loaded with foreboding, and his own not exactly established authority in the Last Bastion group were all becoming increasing irrelevant. “The Final Command is given.”

The Monitor officer saluted. “Aye, Magister! We should broadcast the order to the entire city! The Last Bastion will assemble and begin the Exodus of Wolf Lineage and the Monitor Nation!”

“Explain first.”

“The Final Command supersedes all other orders, Magister. We will bring the people to the assembly points as long as those points are active.”

“An organized withdrawal.”

“Aye, Magister.”

“What are the assembly points?”

“I only know the ones for Cantonment Fourteen. The first is the Parade Ground of the Training Center here before us. The second is The Square of Heroes in the north of the city. The third is Veteran’s Plaza in the south. The fourth is the Wooded Reserve in the west.”

“Four points and four Bridges.”

“Aye, Magister, that is what I think. We were not told how the Exodus would be accomplished, only that it would happen.”

“How long will each Bridge need to be held open?”

“Each Round is one day, Magister.”

“How many Rounds?”

“I do not know, Magister. We will gather more people and wait. That is the central direction of the Final Command. We gather people. We bring them to the assembly point. We continue.”

“What if there isn’t another Round? What if I can’t get a Bridge for the assembly point again?”

“The Last Bastion is the rear guard, Magister. We will work until the end.”

“You expect to die.”

“Aye, Magister. We are oath-bound. It is our duty. If that is all, Magister, I must begin. The Parade Ground is my assigned assembly point. When you broadcast that the Final Command has been given, we will begin and I must be in position.”

“Wait at least another minute. How many are you? What if people resist?”

“I do not know the full muster of the Final Bastion, Magister. My Brigade numbers a hundred and is established here in Cantonment Fourteen, but I do not know how many of those survive. We will not compel anyone to assemble. Only those that chose the Exodus will go.”

“When do you need the Bridge?”

“Dawn after you give the Final Command, Magister. The Round will last from Dawn until Dusk. In each assembly district, transport will arrive at the assembly points at dawn after the Final Command is given.”

“By me.”

“By the Magister who shall come. I did not know that it would be you until today.”

Rath began to understand. With all tech destroyed or unusable, his magic — his voice Talent — was the only means to communicate to the population at large. Wy had foreseen this and Mhagtyr had built his system around it.

With considerable dread and, to his shame, relief, Rath realized that he had never been intended to be the director of the rescue, just the instrument. For years, Wy and Mhagtyr had prepared the Monitor Nation for the end of the world, and his Talents, shown to Wy through her Future Smith gift, had guided their plans.

In everything that she had done or said, Wy had worked to make his future into her desired destiny. He wondered for an instant if she had ever considered his acceptance a requirement, but then immediately acknowledged that, being who he was, he would have helped regardless.

Even so, when — or if — he had the time, he had a lot of questions for Wy.

For now, he had no choice but to move on.

“Just twelve hours for each Bridge?” he asked Banneret Fheyhor.

“Not everyone can be brought away, Magister.”

“It was always that way,” he stated. The chaos that he had encountered here in this destroyed city had already convinced him of that.

“Aye, Magister.”

Rath stuck out his hand. “Good luck, Banneret.”

The young officer gripped Rath’s hand briefly, and then went forward, skidding down the front slope of the mound. Rath watched him for only a few seconds as he began to cross the ring road and then turned to Vice-Exarch Llylm.

“I need your advice and experience,” he told her. “I want you to come back to The Wall and remain there.”

She saluted. “It will be done, Magister.”

There was no relief, no hesitation, just duty.

Rath’s decision had been mostly practical, but very much selfish. Llylm was Aea’s mother and by default was part of what he had come to think of as his band — friends, comrades, or just people he knew by name. That group of people had begun with Aron and Fhaeyr and had grown to include Wy, Ylyryl and her Amazons, Aunt Cyhrin, Eyr, Dhal, Khyrm, and Zhym, and many others. These were the people that he felt personally responsible for, the people who he had the power to try to preserve.

He could not decide for the multitudes of the Monitor Nation and the Custodian Nation, but here, at least, with one person at a time, he did have the power to decide who had a chance at life.

“Wait here. I’m going up to broadcast the command, then we’re going to use a Bridge to return to the Bridges at the intersection.”

“Aye, Magister.”

Rath flew high, far out of bowshot, and made one orbit over the entire city, declaring the message, “I am the Magister of the Monitor Nation. To all members of the Final Bastion, this is the Final Command. Begin the assembly for the Exodus. To all citizens of the Monitor Nation, go where you are directed. You will be evacuated to The Wall. Help those who need help. Obey the officers and Shields of the Final Bastion. Tomorrow at dawn, you will cross a Bridge to The Wall and to safety.”

The flight tired him quickly, but he remained aloft to repeat the refrain seven times to make sure that he covered all parts of the city. When he returned to Vice-Exarch Llylm, he created a Bridge beneath their feet without further discussion.

Exarch Ehlren and his small staff of likewise gray-haired Elder officers — anyone with the strength to carry litters or dig for trapped survivors had been assigned to those tasks — approached at once and gave a report: one thousand, seven hundred ninety-two people had been put through the Bridges; stragglers and injured people were still being brought in, but at a much reduced rate, water and other supplies had arrived in sufficient quantity, dispatches from The Wall indicated that all was going well on that end; the deceased were covered where they lay, if time permitted.

When the Elder had finished his short and concise update, Rath asked him, “Which assembly point is yours, Exarch?”

“The Square of Heros, Magister. I should go there soon.”

“When Aea returns from The Wall, send her back with orders to find me immediately. When I see her, I’ll close the Bridges in the courtyard. I’ll also close the second Bridge here at that time. Take all of your command with you to the Square except for a small group to manage the remaining Bridge. I’ll keep it going until dusk today. Gather anyone that you can on the way and follow the Final Command.”

Exarch Ehlren saluted. “Aye, Magister. It will be done.”

Rath and Vice-Exarch Llylm took the place of Shields and carried a litter bearing a young woman with two broken legs onto the active Bridge along with wide-eyed orphans, doddering Elders, and a few, close-knit groups that had to be neighbors or families. The half-hour trip was not restful for Rath as the inactivity simply made his thoughts churn faster.

The welcome at the central boulevard of Level Twenty-four Fifth Section The Wall was efficient, smooth, and well-practiced. Unaccompanied children were herded away by soft-spoken Elders and volunteers. Medtechs and assistants took charge of the injured. Everyone else was guided towards food and rest.

None of those engaged in the reception were familiar to Rath; he could tell by clothing or hairstyle that some were Custodian and some Monitor. Though he was sure that some recognized him, there was no notable reaction to his arrival.

When waiting bearers relived them of their litter and the young woman, Rath led Vice-Exarch to the side of the boulevard out of the way. All the unused kiosks were shuttered, of course, but for just a second he looked around in the forlorn hope of finding something to snack on.

When the Index’s voice rang, echoing through the boulevard it startled him into immovability.

He had only heard a general broadcast announcement once before, when he had been Ninth Year — a fire had broken out in a restaurant in a small market and The Index had requested that everyone avoid the area.

“DUE TO UNDETERMINED GEOLOGIC ANOMALIES, THIS FACILITY WILL REMOVE FROM THE PLANET’S SURFACE TO A SAFE ORBITAL DISTANCE. THIS IS AN EMERGENCY. PLEASE PREPARE FOR MODERATE VERTICAL ACCELERATION.”