The Edge of the World by Kevin J. Anderson Page B

was fully engulfed now. When its roof collapsed with a groan and a roar, flames belched from shattered
     stained-glass windows.
    As guards rushed them out of Ishalem in an urgent procession to the harbor, Anjine’s throat was raw, her heart heavy. They
     had abandoned the few things they’d brought with them from Calay. Mateo was anxious to fight the fire or kill the Urecari,
     but King Korastine refused to let either the young man or Anjine out of his sight. “This is not a game we play in the castle.
     Tonight we are witnessing what may be the beginning of the end of our world.”
    More and more people ran down from the streets, trying to get to the water as a refuge from the spreading flames, giving up
     on the city. Brisk, parched winds played across Anjine’s face, swirling her light brown hair.
    As soon as Prester-Marshall Baine and her father were escorted aboard the royal cog, with Anjine and Mateo following close
     behind, sailors struggled to raise the gangplank, pushing back any refugees who tried to crowd aboard. So many people swarmed
     on the docks that the boards creaked, and several people tumbled off the sides. One sailor swung a boat hook, knocking a man
     into the water. The shouting crowd grew louder and angrier.
    With a voice already hoarse from the thick smoke in the air, Korastine ordered his men to stop. “I am their king! Take aboard
     as many of these people as the cog can carry. Bring their injured, their children.”
    A sound like a rush of relief passed through the crowd. Then their voices surged louder as they clamored for the limited spots
     aboard the king’s ship, showing very little regard for giving priority to the wounded or the young. The panic and desperation
     on their faces was raw, palpable. Protectively, Mateo moved Anjine to the meager protection of the raised forecastle platform.
     During the chaotic few minutes while frightened, moaning people spilled aboard and packed the deck, Anjine looked at the lines
     of refugees searching for safety at the harbor’s edge; she didn’t think their numbers had diminished at all. Every one of
     them wanted to escape from Ishalem.
    Now the king had no choice but to turn the rest away. Anjine could feel the weight in his voice as he told his men, “Detach
     the gangplank—we can take no further passengers.” When the people on the docks refused to let go, still struggling to climb
     aboard, the sailors had to use axes to sever the ramp itself, letting it fall into the harbor. Crewmen slipped the knots from
     the pilings, used poles to push off, and the cog drifted out into the deeper water.
    Already, people were streaming away from the city center into the scrubby hills or rushing along the coastal paths to flee
     the fire. Others climbed aboard any boat they could find. Suddenly orange flames rose along the docks as well. Many of the
     fishing boats that were crowded in slips began to blaze from spilled oil and thrown torches. Urecari raiders were intentionally
     burning the docks, cutting off any escape. Whistling and cursing, they rode off, though the wall of fire cut them off from
     the opposite side of Ishalem.
    “They are so bloodthirsty and hateful!” Mateo seethed, watching them. “How could we ever have tried to make peace with animals
     like that?”
    Anjine felt just as furious, although she wondered if vengeful Aidenists had done the same thing on the other side of the
     city, racing in to torch any Uraban boats in the Middlesea harbor.
    The fire roasted the night sky with a coppery glow. On the steep and sacred hill, bright flames silhouetted the lines of the
     Arkship. Aiden’s ancient vessel had rested there for all of history. Now it was dying in one night. Anjine could not tear
     her eyes away. A great gasp went up from all the rescued people aboard the royal cog as the remaining timbers of the huge
     Arkship collapsed in a burst of embers and flame.
    “May the Compass guide us,” Baine said in a low