by Jack Porter
I couldn’t see them until I almost stumbled into the first group. What saved me was the smell that hit me with the force of a tornado. The wraiths stank of blood and rotting meat. With the first whiff, I sank down to the ground, hoping they hadn’t heard or seen me coming, trusting in the elven magic to keep me safe.
My heart tried to hammer its way out of my chest, but the wraiths continued to ignore the human almost on top of them. Silently thanking Nya’s magic, I crept to my feet and moved on, making a wide circle around the scouts and watching for any more.
I saw plenty, but now that I was looking for them, I spotted the creatures before I stepped into the trenches with them. Once, a Hellhound whipped its head around as I passed their camp from ten yards away. I saw it because its eyes glowed red in the dark.
Freezing in my tracks, I watched to see if the monster would attack, but then it turned its head around and looked decidedly back at the castle.
Feeling buoyed by my success, I moved faster. The lookouts changed to ordered camps. Since the vanguard had already arrived, the wraiths and Hellhounds present here were grouped around the hideous fires, drinking out of flasks and skins.
It was becoming increasingly difficult for me to navigate the camps, and I was still a long way from the trebuchets, which were being set up in a line along with the vanguard. Unsure that I was going to make it, I tried to steal my way behind the first ranks.
But this didn’t prove to work out well, either, because the Hellhounds roamed any dark areas between fires.
As with the first one I encountered on the plain, I wasn’t entirely sure they couldn’t smell me. Sometimes a head turned as I passed, fangs bared. One Hellhound in particular got nosy and followed me for almost a mile. I panted with the effort of trying to stay out of reach, knowing that would only make things worse. But then a very short, skinny man who wasn’t wearing a cloak yelled at the hound, cursing at it, and the beast slunk away.
Breathing a sigh of relief, I silently thanked the little man, who I dubbed Goliath, and was able to slow down. With Goliath and the Hellhound behind me, I didn’t have any more trouble. The first trebuchet was close.
It was, of course, guarded by a wyrm.
The fire-breathing beast was curled like a snake between two trebuchets, breathing smoke through its nostrils. And with every breath, a deep rumbling sound shook the ground.
Masses of wraiths swarmed like ants over the monstrous contraption, which was almost assembled and as tall as Castle Blackhold’s main gate. As I watched, the wraiths loaded the first sling with black rocks. Then they ran away. One of them was pushed out of the way by another wraith and fell to the ground.
The wyrm raised its great head to open its jaws, its fangs gleaming red in the light. Fire spewed out of its mouth, the heat from the blast searing everything in its path, including the wraith who had failed to get up in time. It shrieked as its ragged cloak melted to its form. The wraith fell over, dead.
The black rocks in the trebuchet’s sling had turned into fiery coals. The wyrm turned toward the next trebuchet, and the wraiths rushed the first. Working together, they pulled the lever that released the sling.
The glowing rocks catapulted through the night sky, arcing toward the castle like comets of doom. Then they disappeared behind the walls, and the ground shook with the impact of their hit. Immediately, fire sprang up that we could see from here. The wraiths gave a wicked laugh and then set to work hauling the rope and the sling back down, pulling the counterweight up, and securing it to load again.
Meanwhile, the second trebuchet had been sprung, sending its fiery orbs toward the castle. The wyrm was moving down the line of trebuchets, lighting rocks on fire. I watched it a moment, and it seemed to move cautiously, sliding over the ground with one side of its head cocked strangely.
Was it the one Ilana and I had blinded? I thought it must be, but evidently, the Wraith King still had use for the creature. I was certain it would still be able to fly if the need arose, too. It didn’t look too scarred from its battle with us.
I shook myself out of my daze. Already I’d wasted too much time. By now, the elves were no doubt racing to put out the fires started by the missiles being lobbed over their walls. And two pressing questions troubled me.
How the hell was I going to disable the trebuchets with so many wraiths around? And why had the elves stopped firing back? They had their own trebuchets. I had seen them behind the walls, saw the first launches. As soon as these enemy siege weapons had come in range, the elves should have been firing whether I was here or not.
As I walked around the front of the first machine to avoid the activity near the back, I saw why.
The elves were firing at the Wraith King’s trebuchets. At his armies, at his sorcerers. Everything.
The elven stones didn’t burn, but the fist- to melon-sized projectiles should have been wiping out scores of the enemy. But the sorcerers were preventing them from hitting anything. A line of them stood in front of the vanguard, their blood-red robes whipping in the dusty wind, with their arms outstretched toward the castle.
Whenever the elves launched, their stones only made it about halfway across the plain. And then they vanished. I squinted in the hazy air, trying to discern what happened to them. But all I saw after the missiles hit a certain point was more ash in the air.
That also explained why I hadn’t encountered any arrows as I crossed the plain. They couldn’t get through.
My objective needed to change. There was no way I could take down all these massive trebuchets without being discovered. But maybe I didn’t have to.
Pulling the cloak as tightly around me as I could, I maneuvered around near the first trebuchet. Far away, the wyrm had just lit the last load on fire and was rising into the air. Afraid it was going to head back this way, I pulled out my dagger as I approached the loaded sling. Since the wraiths had finished loading this one, they had backed away, waiting for the wyrm, I guessed. To help secure the trebuchet to the ground when it launched its load, ropes had been driven into the ground with stakes. Remaining on the side furthest from the sorcerers, I knelt on the ground and began cutting away at the thick rope that secured one corner. It was hard work, like what I imagined cutting through the type of rope that secured ships to a dock. When it began to unravel, I stopped, leaving just enough to make it look like it was still attached.
Then I moved to the next corner, still facing away from the sorcerers.
The air trembled with the onslaught of so many fireballs launching through the air. And then another sort of trembling joined it.
The beat of the wyrm’s wings. It had returned.
As the rope gave way, I was forced to get out of there. After seeing what had happened to the wraith, I had no wish to have my clothes melted to my body.
The wyrm reared back and blew its fire onto the sling once again. The rocks ignited, this time burning white-hot. The heat on my face was intense, and I regretted not backing away further.
Then, the wraiths manning this first trebuchet moved in and pulled the lever. The sling was released, the counterweight dropped down, and the entire contraption flung to the left. Since I hadn’t had time to cut any more ropes, the momentum carried the trebuchet forward. But the uneven wobble now associated with it continued. The entire thing had been knocked off balance.
The end with the sling rose off the ground slightly, but then came crashing back down. The rocks it had launched fell short of their targets and landed harmlessly on the plain.
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Now that the trebuchet had malfunctioned, one of the sorcerers came to investigate. Putting distance between myself and him, I moved down the line of trebuchets, trying to get ahead of the wyrm. They were going to know they had a saboteur soon, but I was determined to cause them as much trouble as I could before I was either forced to stop or outright discovered.
Cutting the ropes of the next trebuchet, I heard an uproar back at the first one. They had found the cut lines. On this one
, I hastily left a few strands on all but the last rope, which I left intact.
As wraiths and Hellhounds moved in and around the machines, looking for a saboteur, the wyrm continued lighting rocks on fire, and the functioning machines kept launching these flaming missiles over the castle walls.
Desperate to stop the destruction, I ran toward the plain, westward, hoping that my plan would work and that I hadn’t wildly misjudged and killed myself. Glancing back, I saw the wyrm light the damaged trebuchet’s load on fire. Once the monster moved out, the wraiths moved in and pulled the lever.
Despite my haste, I stopped to watch.
The trebuchet slung its payload, its counterweight dropping as it should, but then the force lifted one side of it completely off the ground. With the remaining rope still anchoring it, the entire machine became unstable, pivoting mid-launch.
Its flaming rocks shot off balance, launching sideways straight into the line of sorcerers. They toppled down, some of them losing their heads or limbs. One was cut clean in half with the force of the melon-sized burning rock that crashed into him.
“Take that, bitches!” I shouted with a jump in the air.
At that moment, the wyrm looked my way out onto the plain.
The game was up. I had been spotted.
With a shriek that could have torn the sky apart, the creature launched itself into the air with a beat of its wings.
I was already running toward the castle, taking care to dodge the entrenched scouts, who would no doubt take up the hunt for me. But there was little doubt about my location. At any moment, I expected to feel the heat of the fire on my neck just before I was burned alive.
The air shook from the beat of the wyrm’s wings, and I ran as fast as I could. I had never been a sprinter, but this was the sprint of my life. The castle was still so far away, though, and as the beating grew louder, I knew I’d never make it.
Turning, I unsheathed my black sword, holding it in front of me as if it would ward off the fire-breathing monster hovering in the air above me.
“At least it will be quick,” I muttered to no one in particular.
On the ground behind the dragon were some of the wraiths and a few Hellhounds.
Watching. Waiting for my death.
The wyrm raised back as if to take a gulp of air, and I closed my eyes, afraid of watching the fire rushing toward me.
Then, it gave an unearthly roar.
Looking up, I saw the wyrm tumble from the air, falling on the wraiths behind it along with hundreds of rocks.
The elves had launched from their trebuchets, and they had targeted their first strike at the wyrm in the air. The mighty creature landed on the ground with a dust-raising boom. Without waiting to see if it had survived, or if any of the nearby enemies had, either, I turned and ran.
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The assault from the castle could now commence, and the elves wasted no time in targeting all of the enemies within reach of their deadly aim. I dodged more than a few arrows, but they weren’t shooting at me, and that made me feel pretty safe. Nya’s archers knew I was a friendly, right?
Unless one of them was a party to Alayna’s schemes.
The thought of an assassin spooked me, and I was never so thankful as when I arrived at the postern drawbridge and gate. The bridge was raised, but Syn must have known I was returning, for as soon as I appeared at the end, reeling once again from the drop into the pit below with its blue glow, the bridge began to lower. I crossed it as soon as I could, and the gate opened for me.
Surprisingly, Ilana was inside with another of Nya’s guard. The succubus pulled me into her arms and held me. I grasped her tightly as my heart slowed down. The guard closed the gates and raised the bridge.
“It’s done,” I said when I could finally catch my breath.
Ilana kissed me. “Not quite, but you were wonderful out there.”
I pulled back to look at her. “Were you watching?”
“Yes,” she said, her gold-flecked eyes looking more moist than usual. “From the walls with Nya. As soon as we saw you returning, I hurried down here to greet you.”
“Can’t think of anyone better,” I grinned.
The succubus quirked an eyebrow at me in an amusing way, but then turned and led me by the hand. I followed her through the castle, all the way to the outer wall. We saw fires and lines of elves with buckets attempting to put them out. Healers moved among the injured, and many, many dead from the deadly glowing rocks that had pelted the lower tier. In a few areas, the fires raged unchecked. All we could hope was that everyone had made it out in time.
Nya was directing the attack from the gatehouse on the outer wall, and we went to meet here there. Most of the Wraith King’s forces had moved out of bow range by now, but I saw the wyrm laying dead on the field among at least a hundred wraiths and hounds. The remaining trebuchets lay in ruins, demolished by the elven ones. The trebuchets behind our walls continued to launch toward the ranks of foot soldiers in the vanguards, destroying any in their path.
But there were many more. Thousands more. We had barely made a dent in the enemy’s numbers.
Nya came to greet us as soon as she was able. She grasped my arm. Then, as if she couldn’t contain herself, she crushed me to her, kissing me on the lips. “You did it, Jon!” she shouted when she let go.
I gazed out over the thousands of wraiths and Hellhounds across the plain. “There are too many,” I said aloud, and then instantly regretted it.
Nya shook her head. “This is how this battle will be won. Small victories add up to big wins.”
“Where are the other rulers?” I asked. “These are their armies, correct?”
“Yes,” Nya said. “I am commanding them. They voted to put me in charge. The others are not as battle-hardened, but they are directing from various locations throughout the castle.”
I looked back out at the invading army.
“What are they waiting for?” I asked.
“Look,” Ilana said grimly. She pointed to farther out on the plain, behind the first lines.
The Wraith King’s giant siege towers were being slowly rolled toward the castle.
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As soon as the siege towers were within range, the archers began firing on them. But it was soon apparent that the sorcerers had regrouped, for once again the arrows turned to ash before they hit their targets.
“Fuck,” I said. All that effort was now worthless. The wraiths fired back, and we hid behind the crenelations. The sound of the enemy’s dark arrows hitting the stone made me grateful for the safety of these battlements.
“Halt!” Nya cried to her archers. “Save your arrows!”
The signal was passed down, and the elven archers stopped their volleys. Ilana seemed to know what I was thinking. She moved closer to me. “You took out a wyrm. Do you think it was the one you’d already wounded?”
I wiped the sweat running down into my eyes. “Yes, it was. I think that’s why the Wraith King had it at the front. It was already damaged. But doesn’t he have two wyrms?”
“Yes. At least two.”
“At least two,” I repeated sullenly. “Perfect.” Another volley of wraith arrows hit the walls. “Will he send the second wyrm into the city?”
“It depends,” Ilana said. “He usually keeps them close by his side. To send them out means he’s confident of their safety. But you’ve killed one, Jon. So there’s no telling what the Wraith King might do now.”
“Correction,” I said, peering out at the enemy, “I wounded one and made it chase me. The elves killed it.”
The siege towers were much nearer now, looking terrifyingly huge. The top of them would stand higher than the wall, and they were being pulled by slaves. A hundred each with collars around their necks. I wondered what would happen to those slaves, sure that they would die for their masters simply because they had no protection.
“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” Ilana said, drawing my gaze away. “The trebuchets were w
reaking havoc on the city.”
“Speaking of that,” Nya said as she approached, “we could use as many able bodies as we can to help clear this lower tier. Fires still burn, and some of them must contain sorcery because we can’t put them out. We’ve got to get those that can’t fight into the second tier of the city or higher. And if the wraiths breach the outer wall, we need room to fight them without injuring our own.”
I stepped away from the wall, keeping low so as to not catch a stray arrow. “We’re on it.” Then I paused. “How are they going to get those siege towers close enough to the wall?” I asked. “The moat is more than big enough to swallow the entire wraith army whole.”
But Nya didn’t need to answer my question. The wraiths answered it for me.
A contingent of them swarmed closer to the moat, and they seemed to be protecting something. The elves continued to loose arrows at them, but nothing could get through. I peered over the battlements, trying to see. In the firelight, I saw a short, skinny figure not dressed in a cloak like the rest, which was the only reason he stood out among the sorcerers who had gathered.
“Goliath,” I said.
“Who?” Ilana asked.
“I saw that guy when I was down there.”
I wasn’t sure what the little man was doing, but a chilly sense of foreboding fell on me. “Take him out!” I said.
“They’re trying, Jon.”
And they were. The elves either knew what was happening or had figured the same thing I did. Whatever reason Goliath had for being here, it couldn’t be good. The sorcerers protected him with their spells, however, and Goliath walked forward until he stood with his feet at the very edge of the moat. He raised his hands.
I held my breath.
For an instant, nothing happened. And then, the ground began to tremble. Placing my hand on the battlement to steady myself, I leaned as far out as I dared, keeping an eye out for arrows heading my way.
