Aea and Sylia ran up before Corporal Wihn returned. Both were overburdened with multiple packs, which the four Blades and Vice-Exarch Llylm helped them set on the ground.

Sylia, the senior, reported first. “The Wall is stable. Fhaeyr has sent a squad of volunteers to The Gash and will send a report as soon as the volunteers have eyes on The Tower. Aron sent water and Factory tray meals.”

Aea reported as soon as Sylia had finished. “Messages delivered, Magister. The trip to The Wall took twenty-one minutes and thirty-seven seconds. The return trip was twenty-seven minutes and eighteen seconds. Have you another message, Magister?”

“Stand by,” Rath said, thinking.

Aea’s timing of the trip from The Wall to the courtyard was two full minutes shorter than their original trip, and he was not sure whether that was an error of perception or an actual variation. Either way, the total round trip was over forty-eight minutes. With the added time needed to get and deliver messages, Aea’s round trip would generally take longer than an hour from her perspective, while potentially being much less than half of that from Rath’s. That time difference would quickly exhaust Aea.

“Aea, when you return to The Wall, I want you to recruit more messengers. It’s going to take hundreds eventually, but for now we need at least ten. They can be Shields, Blades, or volunteers, but they have to be able to run. Get Fhaeyr to help you with that. Tell Aron that all is going well so far. I’m going to the Training Complex here to connect with the Cantonment’s leadership. Tell Aron and Fhaeyr that we will be increasing the speed of the arrival of the refugees. Tell them to prepare to receive thousands per hour.”

Rath stopped, struck by a thought, and turned to Vice-Exarch Llylm. “Do you know what the population of the Cantonment is? Even an estimate?”

“Fifty-seven thousand, nine hundred and thirty-two as of the last Full Muster report ten days ago.”

Minus the dead, Rath mentally clarified.

“Right. We’ll keep a couple of hundred here to search for survivors, but everyone else goes as soon as possible so we can move most of the Bridges to another city or town. After … five days, we’ll withdraw the search group to use at the next location.”

The cruel fact was that they could not search longer because that would tie up resources that would be needed just as desperately elsewhere.

He turned back to Aea. He could not do the math in his head and did not actually have any measurements to do the math with, so he just picked a number that seemed plausible. “We’ll get everyone out of here in the next two days. We’re going to maintain the Bridges around the clock, or at least as long as I can stay awake. Tell Fhaeyr and Aron to get ready. Go.”

Aea saluted, exchanged a fast glance with her mother Llylm, and bolted back along the street towards her home and the Bridge waiting in the courtyard there.

Rath turned his attention once more to Sylia. “I need an assistant here to carry orders. Can you do that?”

Sylia saluted. “Aye, Magister.”

“Right. Go to that Banneret over there by the marked lane to the Bridge. Tell him to send a couple of people to get these packs and distribute them as needed. Tell him I’m going to the Training Complex to organize more help. As soon as most of the people here are gone, he’s to rest his men and prepare for another assignment when I return. Go.”

Sylia dashed away.

Rath stopped then and tried to figure out if there was anything else he needed to do immediately. After a couple of minutes, he gave up and just asked Vice-Exarch Llylm outright.

“The Bridge in front of my house. How long will you maintain it? Exarch Ehlren should be given further orders.”

Rath nodded. “Right. Exarch Ehlren will be in charge of this area. When Sylia gets back, tell her what to tell him. He’s to set up a full command structure and recruit as many officers as he needs. For now, we’ll keep the four Bridges in place as they are and move them when we’re sure this area is clear. We’ll have a conference when we get back from the Training Complex and make a broader plan.”

“It will be done, Magister.”

Rath nodded. The urgency of every single task hardly gave him time to think. All the real planning and organization would have to be done by the Shields and their officers.

“I’m going up to scout,” he told the retired Shield officer and the four onlooking Blades. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

He desired Wfythurgthyr and soared upwards. He wanted to get his eyes on the wider picture again. The compounding details on the ground were beginning to feel like a morass. He was most comfortable and primarily accustomed to working alone or with only his close companions, but it was glaringly obvious the monumental scope of this problem made that preferred method impossible. There was no way that he could even attempt to manage every detail and personally make sure every single objective was accomplished. If the full evacuation of the Monitor Nation were to succeed, it would be because hundreds if not thousands of Monitors worked tirelessly to save their people.

As he climbed above the devastated city, he felt a definite drain on his physical energy. He was tired, and he should not be. For a year before The Stunt, he had trained with dedication and determination and had built up his strength and stamina to a high level. The physical damage that he had endured during the Ordeal had been repaired with medtech and magic. Even the long-term injury to his knee inflicted by the Amazon dart at the very beginning had faded.

But now his knee was hurting again.

It was rigidly clear to him, now, what it had meant when Wy and Aron had told him that his magic drew on his Spirit. Any use of his Talents drew from the same, finite pool whose limit was defined by the condition of his own physical body. As that pool depleted, he would suffer physical aftereffects, which would reduce the pool. Using more magic would mean that he would be able to do less magic. His Spirit pool would recharge, but that would take rest and maintenance. He could not skip meals or go without sleep, because both would mean that he could use his Talents even less.

To keep the evacuation going, he would have to maintain as many Bridges as he could manage, which would restrict the use of his other Talents.

But to continue to function at all, he would have to limit the number of Bridges open at any one time.

Which meant that fewer surviving Monitors would reach The Wall.

His original incomplete and not-thought-out plan to create Bridges wherever the people were in order to move them faster would not work.

He would have to have fewer Bridges and somehow convince the people to travel to or be brought to the Bridges. The four he had in place now seemed to be a soft limit that still left him with the capacity to use his other Talents.

If he created more, he would risk accelerating his own exhaustion and it was foolish to risk incapacitating himself when there was so much to do.

Watching the ruined buildings, streets, promenades, and avenues below, he began a slow circuit with the fourth Bridge as its approximate center.

There were people everywhere, many more than he expected, standing in the streets in small crowds or groups, with a large proportion digging through the rubble or caring for the injured. In the approximately one-half-kilometer radius from the fourth Bridge that his circuit covered, there were no doubt hundreds and perhaps thousands. Shields were immediately identifiable by their uniforms, and the earlier ratio of ten civilians to one Shield seemed to hold true.

While most of the narrower pedestrian promenades were blocked entirely by collapsed buildings, many of the streets or avenues were passable to at least some extent. A quick, incomplete survey convinced him that there were open paths from most of the surrounding areas back to the fourth Bridge at the intersection.

He needed authority over the Monitor Nation, and he thought he must have some already. The mysterious Last Bastion group must have been set up by Mhagtyr. For years, Wy and the leader of Wolf Lineage had prepared for this moment. Wy’s Gift would have guided them to provide what was needed.

He flew back to hover exactly above the avenue intersection and began to speak using his voice Talent. This was another noticeable drain, but very slight.

His voice boomed over the city. “I am Wrathghar, son of Sept Fyyae of Clan Nhyr, and son of Wolf Lineage of the Monitor Nation. I am the Magister of the Monitor Nation. This is my command, that all who are able must now come to the sound of my voice, to an avenue where I have used my Talent Aehlkhndhosthyr to create a Bridge to The Wall where there is food, water, and shelter for all. Bring all that you can carry. Bring all Elders and children. Help the injured. Walk to the Bridge now. All sworn members of the Last Bastion and all Shield volunteers will remain and organize to rescue and assist. Shield officers will muster all available Shields to bear the injured to the Bridge and The Wall. Come now!”

Then, Rath made another quick circuit to judge the results.

Activity had definitely increased, with people and Shields moving, but he could not tell the exact result yet. He flew back and landed in the midst of his Blades, who had been watching him closely from the ground. Vice-Exarch Llylm was off across the avenue speaking with Banneret Fhreyhor, but Sylia, Corporal Wihn, and ten Shields, about half Amazons and all young, were waiting for his order.

“Sylia, go tell Exarch Ehlren to move his command to this intersection immediately. I’m going to close the third Bridge and create another one here. He’s to take whatever measures are necessary to get the people from the surrounding area here. He has my authority to enlist anyone he needs to that effort. Then tell Banneret Fhreyhor to find a replacement to take over his command here, subordinate to Exarch Ehlren. The Banneret will accompany us to the Training Complex.”

At some point, Rath needed someone that could tell him about the Last Bastion, and the senior-ranking Exarch was more valuable here than the Banneret.

It all came together faster than Rath expected. Right on the heels of the returning Sylia, Exarch Ehlren arrived with his freshly recruited staff and a cadre of veteran Shields. The Elder Exarch took control of the intersection at once and began issuing orders to establish provisional units and assign commanders. Sergeants, some gray and some not, began grabbing any Shield that could be classified as walking wounded or better and putting them to work.

Without delay, Rath dismissed the third Bridge and created the new one beside the first, which Exarch Ehlren likewise marked with rubble and the speed of the evacuation doubled, with a steady flow through both Bridges. Soon, all the civilians from the surrounding area were gone, except for the occasional straggler who was, if necessary, carried to one of the Bridges.

Satisfied, Rath relaxed a bit.

When Ylyryl’s first supply run — three squads of Blades, recuperated Shields, and Custodian volunteers commanded by a Blade sergeant — arrived, Rath took twenty minutes to sit and eat on a chair that someone fetched for him without asking. The others of what he was beginning to think of as his Command Group all did the same.

The Factory trays — which must be some of the last available — were the self-heating kind, and the meal of textured a meat patty, mashed potatoes, and mixed vegetables was filling, if not exactly to his taste. Getting off his feet made him feel considerably less fatigued, and he concluded that he would have to take time for a break at regular intervals, no matter what was happening.

Refugees began to trickle in from the other streets and neighborhoods while he ate. These were quickly moved on directly to The Wall so that no crowd formed, but in anticipation of the thousands that Rath hoped would eventually appear, Exarch Ehlren and his officers had already begun the process of setting up and marking off an organized queue system.

When Rath finished eating, he stood, and all those around him got up at once: Vice-Exarch Llylm, Banneret Fhreyhor, Corporal Wihn, Sylia, his four constantly vigilant Blade protectors, Eyr, Dhal, Khyrm, and Zhym, and the ten Shield volunteers. This roll call made Rath realize that even at just eighteen his Command Group was much too large for him to continually consider each person as an individual.

It was harsh and alien to his basic outlook, but all these people had to be, first and foremost, tools and weapons to be wielded.

And, if necessary, expended.

“Vice-Exarch Llylm, lead us by the most direct path to the Training Complex. I’ll fly above and ahead a short way to try to help us avoid dead ends.”

“It will be done, Magister.”

They made good progress, slowed only occasionally by the need to stop and provide directions to moving groups of refugees. From time to time, Rath went higher to repeat his broadcast, modified by street and avenue names that he gleaned from the Monitor officers. Where he could, he described open routes to the Bridges.

Much of the time, he stayed low, just barely above the rooftops and went no faster than a walk so as not to outrun the steadily marching Shields and Blades.

Then, near a circular intersection with a large fountain whose majestic rearing horse statues had suffered decapitation and worse, Rath flew into a flight of arrows.