Blood of the Tallan (The Petralist Book 7)

by Frank Morin

  Rory rubbed his hands together and said eagerly, “That leaves part three, which is shaping up to be the best bash fight of all time.”

  Ivor said, “We might actually be able to distill the entire contest down to bash fighting if my proposal to coat the entire battlefield with a cloud of activated pumice could work.”

  Connor blinked and glanced at Verena, astonished by the bold idea. Why hadn’t he thought of that? If they could unleash enough activated pumice, they could nullify all the Spitters and Sentries. “Is that possible?”

  She shook her head sadly. “Unfortunately, it won’t work. We don’t have enough pumice to cover potentially four square miles thickly enough to catch everyone.”

  “We do plan to distribute individual portions of pumice through our forces,” Ilse added.

  That was a good idea. Coupled with the thousands of personal defense mechanicals already distributed, their forces would be entering the battlefield with better protections than any troops ever.

  Rory shrugged, not looking surprised. “We’ll still get to the bash fighting.”

  Shona said, “We need to defeat and demoralize their army. We must convince everyone that the revolution is unstoppable. Throw them on the defensive immediately.”

  “That’ll give any Petralists and Guardians who want to defect hope that it’s worth taking the risk,” Rory agreed. Connor hoped reports that many pressed into the queen’s army secretly longed to join the revolution proved true. Otherwise Rory and Anika and their forces would be badly outnumbered.

  “All Battalions are operational and ready to go,” Hamish reported. “And my second-skin aerial combat suit extension is finished, even though I’m missing a bunch of my replacement suit components that were supposed to ship down from New Schwinkendorf.”

  “Second skin?” Connor asked. He’d been so busy with his own training and duties that he hadn’t even heard about that.

  “I’ll show it to you later,” Hamish promised with a grin. Whatever it was, he looked very excited about it.

  Jean frowned. “I remember ordering all of your supplies in the last shipment.”

  Hamish shrugged. “Not a big deal. I managed without them.”

  Jean gestured to a stack of papers on the table in front of her. “The rest of the deployment plans from the Battalions are finalized, and the final loading of combat mechanicals is already underway.”

  “Excellent,” Shona said. “You must hold the line and win the bash fight, or we could lose our entire western flank.”

  “We’ll hold,” Rory promised, and Anika added, “No matter what.”

  Lady Briet spoke for the first time. “I’ve confirmed that placing our long-range attack weapons on the high ground will work well. We’ve already got engineers calculating trajectories. Assuming we’ll reach Lossit ahead of the enemy and have sufficient time to prepare the field, I expect both the trebuchet and death tubes will be ready to rain precision strikes anywhere across the battlefield as needed.”

  “That will offer excellent support,” Shona said.

  “And we have extensive bombardment capabilities prepared from the Battalions,” Jean added.

  Ivor said, “Once we engage the tertiaries, you can deploy mechanicals from the Battalions and down the speedcaravan track. Arishat League forces can move in to support those efforts.”

  That was a risky move. Usually the non-Petralist forces hung back and served little more than a support role, but they needed the numbers. The last time Connor spoke with Lady Briet, she’d confirmed the Arishat forces were eager to engage in close combat, especially with the protective mechanicals that had been distributed to them.

  Shona said, “I will deploy with the Striders to engage enemy fast movers, block reinforcements, and coordinate communication if our speakstone lines are disrupted.”

  Connor hoped she’d been practicing her running battles. Shona possessed a nimble mind and knew the theory of running battles, but was she ready to plunge into the most intricate fast-running battle perhaps ever fought? Losing Shona would severely hurt morale.

  Student Eighteen said, “I’ll be concealed beneath the town with my brothers and sisters, and with the acid pool Connor will prepare.”

  Verena said, “I’ve got a team completing the deployment mechanicals for you.”

  “Excellent,” she said.

  Kilian, who sat beside her, said, “Connor, Evander, and I will prepare a horde of summoned creatures to assist. I have no doubt the army will have summoned forces of their own, including an aerial component.”

  “We’ll be ready for the flyers,” Hamish promised. Connor knew they’d been practicing aerial fighting maneuvers. He couldn’t imagine the queen could send nearly as many as the original swarm, but defeating her summoned creatures would be vital.

  “You’ll have to,” Kilian said simply. “I plan to leave the summoned creatures in your control, Aifric. You’ll be best positioned to manage them.”

  She looked immensely pleased by the huge responsibility. Connor was glad she’d have the summoned creatures to back her up. Her mission to take on the enemy central command was as dangerous as his own. Reports suggested the queen’s army included at least twenty Dawnus, probably with low-grade sculpted stones to augment their power. That group alone could challenge the bulk of the army.

  Aifric and her tiny squad of Mhortair assassins would strike at that deadly group, plus the two ascended generals. Anyone else making such an attempt would almost surely die, but if anyone could pull it off, it was the Mhortair. Plus, Aifric was now Blood of the Tallan by committee. Only the core leadership team knew about that. It was a trump card that might prove decisive.

  Anton spoke for the first time, speaking slowly to ensure his words were plain. “That leaves the elemental battle to us.”

  Ivor nodded, and Ilse looked grim. Connor knew they had trained their forces hard, but they would be facing overwhelming numbers. Ivor and Anton would lead the tertiary Petralists in a desperate fight. Ilse and the Crushers, augmented by volunteers from every nation, would target enemy tertiaries with extreme prejudice. If they could kill or disable enough of them, they might turn the tide before Ivor and Anton and their outnumbered forces were swept under.

  It was a bold, complex plan that could work, but only if every one of them succeeded. Any failures could create negative momentum that could easily ripple back over the others and threaten to derail the entire battle. They did have contingencies to retreat back to Merkland to make another stand, but Connor feared if retreat proved necessary that many thousands of their troops would not survive the long journey back upriver.

  The meeting broke up a short time later, and everyone scattered to their respective forces to give the orders to move out. Connor took Verena to the window and stepped out, calling upon air to lift them above the palace.

  Verena held his hand in a calm grip as they rose a thousand feet over the city. “I usually prefer to be the one piloting, but this is nice.” She snuggled under his arm as they watched the city swarm with soldiers rushing to assembly points and preparing to move out.

  The Albatross rose into the sky, dipped its wings in farewell, and accelerated north toward Badurach Pass to lead the vast flying armada that would soon take to the skies.

  “This is it,” Connor said, savoring the feel of Verena beside him.

  She nodded, but didn’t speak for a moment. Finally she said, “Whatever happens, we see this through to the end together.”

  Verena turned to him and Connor kissed her. They held each other for a long moment and he tried to simply enjoy her presence, but couldn’t help thinking this might be the last quiet time they’d ever get.

  Once they joined in battle, either of them might die. What of their friends? He thought of Tomas and Cameron and their abrupt death. How many more of his friends might not survive the coming battle?

  He silently swore to do whatever it took to ensure the queen never threatened anyone he loved ever again.

&nbs
p; Whatever it took.

  32

  Traps within Traps

  Connor touched down on the barren, remote plateau at the convergence point associated with sandstone. The area looked the same as the last time he’d visited, with no indication whatsoever of the sylfaen plunging into the ground, or the super-mechanical concealed in the ground nearby.

  “Everything looks good. Is Sucker Punch still ready to go?” Connor asked, speaking directly to Verena’s speakstone.

  “Ready for activation when we need it.”

  Her calm tone helped him control his nerves. They were really going to do this. He glanced at Evander, who was settling to the ground beside him. If they could pull this off, it could change the course of the war.

  Connor cast his affinity senses across the area and even up into the sky and was relieved when he initially felt nothing. Evander himself had concealed the sculpted sandstone and the huge sandstone blocks that made up the Sucker Punch. Verena had even thought to bury some quickened pumice around each of those buried stones. Not even the queen would find them.

  Verena was also extremely difficult to locate, even though he knew the position where she had taken up her overwatch hover. Ten thousand feet above where he stood and nearly a mile to the east, her Swift was invisible to the eye and to his air senses.

  Not only was the camouflaged paint extremely effective, but she had improved the mechanical that used sightstones to project views of the empty air above her onto the bottom of her craft, making her virtually invisible. She had also already activated pumice to help shield her from elemental senses.

  Connor wore his custom battle armor, with the symbols for water and fire emblazoned on the shifting chest plates. He hoped the elementals appreciated the gesture. Evander wore a tan linen shirt under a huge green vest and his enormous leather duster that extended down to midcalf. That coat could nearly conceal the entire Swift, and Connor would look laughably small in it, even when max-tapping granite.

  “Are you ready for this?” Connor asked him.

  “Stones roll unopposed down the mountain, and the hawk takes flight at the first rays of dawn,” he said simply.

  “I’ll take that as a yes,” Connor said with a grin.

  He loved practicing Sentry speak but wondered if he would ever truly master it. Evander definitely preferred the convoluted, cryptic declarations, but Connor was a simpler person. Sometimes a simple yes or no could not be beat.

  Connor focused on the little summoned squirrel that had been quietly occupying a corner of his mind. The area around him dimmed as his senses locked onto the distant squirrel. Sights, sounds, and most of all smells, rushed in like an avalanche.

  The squirrel rested in a tiny sack slung over Kilian’s shoulder as Kilian sped over wilderness landscape at an easy, fracked sprint that he could maintain all day. The area looked rough, with patches of wild grasses, shrubs and trees interspersed with rocky, undulating hills. The air was warm and full of the scents of growing things, but no scents of man besides Kilian himself.

  “Where are you?” Connor spoke through the squirrel’s mouth. He still wasn’t sure how he could do that, since squirrels couldn’t exactly make human sounds, but it worked, so he didn’t worry about it.

  Kilian slowed to a walk and turned, showing Connor the view behind him. Verena’s Trophy dominated the distant skyline, ringed by the lower peaks Connor had fashioned.

  “I’m thirty miles southeast of the volcano. Preparing to tickle my mother’s senses and draw her out.”

  “Perfect timing,” Connor said. “We’re in position and ready to raise the elfonnel.”

  “Wait. What’s that?” Kilian asked, his voice suddenly tense. His scent changed, and Connor could tell he was prepared to fight.

  Not good. He hadn’t even begun to draw his mother out yet. He was supposed to be traveling through part of Obrion with only small settlements, and definitely nothing significant enough to make the great Kilian nervous.

  The battlefield at Lossit was ready, with the bulk of their forces concealed north of the town, or west, atop the high cliffs. The queen’s army would move into range within the hour. The timeline was too tight for any unexpected problems.

  “What?” Connor asked.

  “Hush,” Kilian said softly, looking up in to the sky. As he turned, Connor spotted something diving out of the sky. His squirrel instincts screamed at him to duck and hide, but he held still. Kilian wouldn’t worry about a pedra.

  Only, it wasn’t a natural pedra. Within seconds, he recognized it as summoned. The monster’s skin shone white against the bright morning sunlight, reminding him of the great stone pedra that Kilian and Ilse had summoned to delay Rory’s company before their first clash near Alasdair.

  The pedra was way too small. It was barely the size of a terrier, perfectly shaped in miniature. Connor wondered who had conjured it. Evander was with him and knew about the squirrel they were using for communication. Had Ilse or Anton or someone else spotted a problem? With the queen so close, they couldn’t risk trying a long-distance speakstone.

  His worry grew as the little creature flared its wings to hover in the air in front of Kilian. It spoke, and the voice was not Ilse’s.

  It was the queen’s.

  “So, you thought you could lure me away again, did you, boy?” the pedra said in an angry tone.

  Connor barely kept the squirrel from squeaking in terror and wetting itself, but Kilian calmly replied. “I didn’t think old crones could learn new tricks.”

  The pedra cackled. “Always clever with your wit, but dense with your mind.”

  “I’m finally learning the secrets you kept from me all these years. If you’d confided in me, we might have avoided so much tragedy, mother.” He sounded sad.

  “Perhaps,” she said, surprising Connor by the soft tone. Then her voice sharpened again. “But you never demonstrated that I could trust you with the weighty matters of the kingdom.”

  “No. You decided it made more sense to simply murder my sister, order the great purge, and threaten to execute Tallan too,” he shot back.

  “Kirstin threatened everything. Surely you can see that now.”

  “She didn’t know the danger. If you hadn’t lost your mind, you could have explained the risks.”

  “She would have fallen to the temptation.”

  Kilian shook his head slowly, old sorrow etched on his features. “I choose to trust. You choose to kill.”

  “I choose to maintain order!” she shrieked, her voice shaking the air like thunder.

  “Did you come here to shout at me?” Kilian asked, unperturbed.

  Her tantrum passed a second later and her voice turned cold and hard. “No, my errant son. I know your deceit. I never trusted Craigroy’s information fully, and once he was revealed as unworthy, I gathered my own intelligence.”

  Connor pulled back from the squirrel enough to wave mightily to Evander. He must have looked as terrified as he felt, because Evander rushed over, sliding smoothly across the hard-packed soil. “The queen sent a summoned pedra to Kilian. She’s not fooled!”

  Evander’s face blanched, but Connor let his attention get swept back into the squirrel.

  The queen was gloating. “You let too many weak-minded fools into your armies, Kilian. I know about the attack planned in Lossit. My armies are already launching their assault.”

  The news rocked Kilian, and his mother added, “And you’re out of position. Ha! Today you will witness the deaths of all those fools who chose to follow you. Only then will I rend out your own pitiful life. Good-bye, my son.”

  The pedra dove at Kilian, double jaws gaping wide, sharp talons extended.

  With a shout of rage, Kilian lunged to meet it with empty hands. Connor tried to withdraw his senses, but reacted a second too slow.

  Kilian’s hands exploded, destroying the pedra in a flash of muddy granite. The flash of sight and sound overloaded Connor’s squirrel senses, radiating the effect back to him. He cried out and
collapsed, clutching his head.

  Evander caught him with one huge hand and held him off the ground. “What is happening?”

  “She knows! Her army is attacking early.”

  Far to the east, Kilian pulled the squirrel out of the bag and shouted, “Connor, hurry! She’s probably already coming. I’ll come as fast as I can, but warn the others and destroy that elfonnel!”

  33

  And You Thought You Got Grumpy when Someone Wakes You Up Early

  Connor’s mind was whirling, and a rush of fear made him suddenly feel frozen with icy dread. They had thought they were so clever, but the queen had seen through the deception.

  “Verena! The queen knows. You have to warn everyone. They’re about to be attacked.”

  “Tallan’s mercy,” she breathed.

  “We must hurry,” Evander said, gesturing toward the empty ground nearby. “The timetable is accelerated, but the mission remains.”

  He was right. If they could destroy that elfonnel, they could still defeat her. She hadn’t said anything about intercepting them. Maybe the minds she’d siphoned didn’t know. Kilian had been right to keep the full battle plan concealed from all but their inner circle.

  Connor tapped his elemental affinities. The conduits opened readily, but he was surprised to hear Fire’s voice in his mind. “Do not destroy the very filters to your power, boy. You risk destabilizing your bridges and undoing everything you’ve worked so hard for.”

  He didn’t have time to argue, and hoped the message wasn’t the precursor to more interference. If only he could figure out how to return to close association with the elementals, but just couldn’t trust them.

  Evander took the lead, walking slowly forward, eyes half closed and one hand held out over the earth, looking like he was tuning himself to the massive amounts of power flowing around them within the convergence point.

  Connor had planned to summon another creature with strum and magnis and limestone to help him sense the convergence point better, but didn’t dare take the time. Every second counted now, so he tapped water and fire, reaching for strum and magnis. His skin prickled with the feel of invisible energy coursing past, and he grinned. Maybe that would be enough. He cast his affinity senses into the earth and sensed something vast deep beneath them. The elfonnel.