by Frank Morin
“I’ve got the best speakstones,” Nicklaus said simply. “Air taught me how.” His expression darkened and he crossed his arms, scowling as he spun backward again. “Then they went and lied and got angry and hurt people.”
Jean placed a comforting hand on his arm as he came around again, making him bob in the air. “Even immortal elementals can make bad choices sometimes.”
He gave her a serious look. “Bad choices have consequences, Lady Jean.”
His expression fell, and she bet he was thinking of Ilse and her brave stand against Aonghus. She quickly banished thoughts of Aonghus, though. She had promised not to let his memory hold any power over her any more, and she intended to keep that promise.
“What about Rosslyn?” Verena prodded.
“She’s kind of grumpy. I don’t think she likes admitting she lost. I talked with Lady Ailsa mostly. She’s nice and she’s real smart. Did you know she’s Connor’s aunt?” He stopped his rotation, head cocked to the side in a thoughtful expression. “She seemed to handle serving the queen better than most people. She didn’t seem crazy or evil at all.”
Jean smiled. Nicklaus was an exuberant kid, and little fooled him. She was happy Ailsa had turned up, and hadn’t gotten killed in the fighting. “She’s one of the best people. She’s a friend.”
The boy started slowly rolling backward again, but continued talking as if that was normal. “They’re protecting the armies south of here too. They didn’t think of making a cave in the river, but they pulled water up to some hills to make caves that way. They’re not as good, but they’re holding. General Wolfram is with Lady Ailsa, and they were talking a lot about accords and agreements and surrendering, or something.” He yawned. “It was boring. Christin will probably want me to write a scroll about it.”
Nicklaus floated away, rising to inspect the stowed cannons protruding from the underside of the Battalion. Jean left Verena watching him to make sure he didn’t accidentally trigger all the cannons and blow up everyone huddling beneath the Battalions. She returned to her rounds, checking patients, trying to ease suffering, and trying not to think of Hamish and Connor lost in that terrible storm.
It took two more eternal hours for the storm to finally break.
The clouds parted and blessed light returned. It was weak, but so very welcome. Although gusts of wind and brief, intense showers persisted, the main storm had passed, churning to the east. Jean immediately ordered scout flights to sweep the valley for any other survivors they’d missed, although hopes of finding any were slim.
She emerged with Verena and Nicklaus to inspect the damage. The ground was muddy, so Jean hummed to activate thrusters and rose up to the deck of the Battalions. Nicklaus swooped around her like a sparrow, and Verena followed, using a single quartzite block as a thruster. She made the tricky maneuver look easy as she gracefully stepped onto the tilting deck.
The first Battalion was a mess, the huge deck scoured clean. Any mechanicals or equipment left on the deck was simply gone, ripped away by the ferocious storm. The superstructure was leaning noticeably to the port side, and the steel glass windows were scarred and pitted from the abuse. The other Battalions, sitting in their long row, were all equally battered, and two of them had lost their superstructures altogether.
The valley was completely destroyed. Only occasional, broken posts marked the location where the town of Lossit had stood. The elfonnel had smashed most of it, then the storm had scoured the land clean. Crops were gone, fields ravaged by wind and rain and hail.
Some battlefield debris remained, particularly the heavy Thunder Towers, although those had all been tipped over by the raging winds. The only good effect of the storm were the many waterfalls thundering off the high ground to the west. They looked triple their previous size, swollen with recent rains, and the lakes at the base of the cliff were flooding onto the valley.
Many of the bodies of the dead were gone, either buried or swept away by the storm. Jean made a mental note to send flights out to scout the lands to the east, and scan the river to see if they could recover any of them for proper burial. She was glad the lands directly east of Lossit were only lightly populated. They would need to send relief flights to check for survivors in the small communities nestled in those eastern hills.
Humming to herself to activate thrusters, Jean headed for the badly canting top deck of the Battalion superstructure for a better view. Nicklaus arrived first and shouted, “Look!”
She and Verena joined him, and she immediately spotted the figure flying toward them, carrying something large on his back. Changing her tune, she pulled down the faceplate of her helmet and activated the long vision view. The distant figure grew rapidly larger in her enhanced view and her heart soared.
“Hamish!”
“He’s got Connor!” Verena cried a moment later. She had donned a pair of long-vision goggles, and joy radiated off of her like heat from an oven, but her smile was tempered by worry. Connor wasn’t moving.
Why was he slumped over Hamish’s shoulder instead of flying on his own? He flew better than anyone. He must be injured.
Was he dead?
She banished the vile thought and fought down the fear that threatened to take her breath away, forcing the same clinical calm over herself she always sought when treating new injuries. She would jump to no conclusions until she had facts.
Nicklaus shot away toward Hamish, shouting greeting and asking a dozen questions as he swooped around them. Hamish spotted Jean and Verena and banked in their direction to land atop the Battalion superstructure beside them.
Jean rushed to help him lower Connor to the ground, and Verena grabbed Connor’s head, calling out, “Connor? Connor, are you all right?”
He groaned and blinked open his eyes. Jean felt weak with relief to see him alive. She seized Hamish and hugged him tight. He pushed up his faceplate, his face weary, but happy. She removed her helmet and kissed him. “What’s Connor’s status?”
“I’m alive, I think,” Connor said weakly, lying on the deck, head in Verena’s lap. She gently stroked his hair, beaming with joy and clearly fighting back tears.
Nicklaus swooped in to hover nearby. “Connor, you missed it. We had a battle with big armies, and two whole elfonnel, and the elementals tried tricking me.”
He smiled wearily. “I’ve got a pretty good idea about what happened. Can you go get Kilian for me?”
“Already here,” Kilian said as he vaulted over the rail from below. “How are you?”
“Queen Dreokt is gone, and the elementals are sealed away from our world,” Connor said softly in an exhausted voice. Jean sensed a long, difficult tale concealed in that simple statement. The words filled her like the rising of the sun, and she grinned.
Verena exclaimed, “I knew it! The sculpted stone was the key, wasn’t it?”
“It played a part, but not the way we expected.”
Kilian dropped to one knee, looking as shaken as Jean had ever seen. He breathed, “She’s really gone? I almost don’t believe it.”
“Believe it. She made it harder than we ever feared, and she was insulting me right up to the end before the storm consumed her and dissipated her elfonnel.” Connor’s eyes drooped and his voice fell to a whisper. He looked so exhausted, Jean dropped to the deck beside him and reached out a hand, calling for her sandstone affinity.
She grimaced as her healing senses poured through him. Connor was whole, but weak. His entire body felt somehow thin, as if on the point of consuming itself just to survive. He’d spent all of his natural energy and then some. She poured in healing to help, but said, “You need rest and food.”
Hamish chuckled. “He’s already eaten twenty-nine smashpacked meals and every dessert I had left.”
“Not that you had many of those by the time I woke up,” Connor said with a weary smile, not opening his eyes. He seemed willing to lie there in Verena’s lap all day.
“You did it,” Verena said, leaning down to kiss him gently. “I f
eared . . .”
Connor opened his eyes for her and stroked her cheek. “So did I. The price was high.” His eyes clouded, and Jean longed to hear the full story. It would come, but not immediately. He needed rest, and they needed to mobilize everyone to deal with the aftermath of the storm. The aftermath of the queen’s demise would rock Obrion to its roots.
“Where’s Evander?” Hamish asked.
Both Verena and Kilian looked down, fresh sorrow on their faces, but Connor tapped the side of his head. “The queen destroyed his elfonnel, but I saved at least part of him here with me.”
“What?” Kilian exclaimed, looking stunned.
Connor shrugged. “One of the things no one could have predicted. We were connected with chert when she killed him, and I managed to draw him into my mind with me. He’s here, at least for a time.” He cocked his head, as if listening and added, “He just told me to tell you that sunsets draw the blanket of night over the world, but the sight of a lighthouse through a storm gladdens the sailor’s heart.”
Kilian chuckled. “We’re going to have to talk this over with Aifric.”
That was a good idea. She might know how to keep Evander alive in Connor’s head.
Verena was staring at Connor in wide-eyed surprise and whispered, “He’s alive, but stuck in your head?”
Connor nodded, and Jean wondered if he’d wondered yet how the situation would affect Verena? Would Evander remain with him all his life? Would his presence affect their relationship? How would she feel if Hamish showed up one day and announced another person had taken up permanent residence inside his head?
Hamish grinned. “Reality sure is weird around this group.”
“You’re wrung out, Connor. When you spoke of cost, were you injured too, or was Evander’s death the sacrifice you spoke of?” Jean asked. She wasn’t about to let them talk Connor to death before confirming he didn’t have some other obscure injury.
His expression fell, a look of sorrow on his face. “I sacrificed most of my affinities.”
“What?” Verena exclaimed. Hamish gaped, and Kilian blinked in surprise. He leaned closer and said, “I never would have thought of that.”
Jean wouldn’t have either. They’d focused so much on building new affinities, she had never considered the alternative. The thought of losing her precious affinities terrified her, and she’d only just received hers. She asked, “How did destroying your affinities help?”
“And how could you even do that?” Hamish demanded.
Connor tried explaining, but Jean wasn’t sure she really understood the concepts, even though she tapped obsidian to quicken her thoughts. Hamish looked confused, and Verena looked overwhelmed by the story. Kilian seemed to understand, though.
Nicklaus hovered over them all and exclaimed, “So when I broke mine, I showed you how to do it, and that saved your life?”
Connor smiled up at him. “Saved everyone.”
“Ha!” Nicklaus laughed, rolling into another backward somersault. “I knew I must have done it for a reason.”
“I’m glad you did,” Connor said, then sighed. “You did it by accident. I smashed mine on purpose.”
Jean said, “I don’t understand everything you said about fission and affinity energy wrapped up inside your bridges. I’m just glad it worked. Do you have any left?”
“Thank the Tallan, I do have some,” he said. “I kept obsidian and chert and pumice, and I’ve got the higher-level aspects to limestone.”
“So you can’t manipulate light, but you can control energy?” Verena asked.
He nodded. “I bet I can figure out how to control at least some light, since it’s a form of energy. I can also still manage mirage, sensory deprivation, and death beam, I think.”
“And we used to think limestone was lame,” Hamish said, chuckling.
Jean was glad Connor hadn’t lost everything, but figured it would take a while for him to sort everything out. He was still more than a normal Petralist, but was no longer the full Blood of the Tallan. She doubted he understood the full ramifications of what he’d done, and was grateful it looked like they’d have time to sort it all out.
“I still have porphyry, sort of, but I’m out of powder,” Connor added, looking pained by that. Porphyry had helped him several times, but it was so dangerous, maybe he was better off without it.
Hamish asked softly, “So you’ve lost all your tertiaries?”
“The four angry ones, although I have higher-level serpentinite. I’m not sure it would be good for me to have kept the others. The elementals are pretty mad with me.”
“I’ve felt resistance from them every time I tapped soapstone, but they haven’t actively interfered,” Kilian noted.
The implications of that made Jean pale. Slate and marble and serpentinite were gone, the affinities broken, but if Air and Water tried interfering with tertiary Petralists, that could undermine the entire ruling structure of both Obrion and Granadure.
“I bet they would if they could, but almost everyone is limited to red-frequency sylfaen energy, and that power is governed by the laws of nature,” Connor said. “They can’t block us from accessing that part of their power, but they might cause trouble in the green.”
“Few people will understand the reasons behind all of this,” Verena said.
“Good. They can’t get into trouble that way,” Connor said, then grimaced. “I can’t believe I said that. I sound like Queen Dreokt.”
“She might have started with good intentions, but she left those behind a long time ago,” Kilian said softly.
Jean realized something and asked, “Connor, you had to sacrifice granite?”
He nodded, looking so sad Jean wanted to cry. Verena stroked his face, and Kilian grimaced. “I can’t imagine losing my first affinity. Having to shatter it on purpose would be . . . difficult.”
Connor nodded and clearly appreciated the fact that they understood in small part the horrible sacrifice he’d been forced to make. Jean was happy he’d survived, and he seemed to be coping with the loss well, but she would monitor him carefully. Inner trauma like that could be as debilitating as physical trauma.
“Oh, no. You lost sandstone too!” she realized with a sense of horror.
He nodded again and sighed. “I think I’m still in shock. Losing sandstone was as hard as losing granite.”
Hamish groaned, looking anguished. Jean appreciated his compassion until he said, “That means glutton crafting is gone forever too.”
Connor laughed, and Jean groaned. Leave it to Hamish to equate Connor’s unparalleled sacrifice with its effect on dinner.
“Basalt?” Kilian asked gently.
Connor sighed again. “I managed to keep the higher-level of basalt. Not sure how that will affect speed, but I’ve got access to stilling.”
Verena kissed his forehead and wiped at her eyes. “I was hoping to get to run with you again. We never tried superfracking together.”
“It’s all gone,” Connor said, his voice thick with emotion. Maybe thinking about all he’d lost wasn’t healthy.
Hamish exclaimed, “Wait! Does this mean you can’t loan affinities any more, or help create new ones?”
Connor frowned, thinking about that, and Verena asked, “Can’t you recreate your affinities?”
That was a good idea, and it offered some hope to restore Connor to his full suite of powers, but he shook his head sadly. “I don’t think so. I smashed them, Verena. I chose to break those affinities. I don’t think I can ever get them back after making that choice.”
“I believe you’re right,” Kilian said gravely. “We don’t understand everything about affinities, but a choice like that cannot be undone.”
“I’ll have to experiment with helping others find new affinities,” Connor added, brows furrowed in thought. “I still have chert and obsidian, but I’m lacking sandstone. I just don’t know.”
“That can wait until you’ve healed,” Jean said firmly in her doctor voice. Conn
or had a tendency to jump into testing hypothetical questions with more enthusiasm than common sense sometimes.
Hamish blew out a breath and extended a hand down to Connor. “Can’t let you lazy around all afternoon. We’ve got a lot of work to do before dinner.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Jean protested. She’d planned to find Connor a place near one of the fires while they began clean-up.
“It works for me,” Connor grinned, took Hamish’s proffered hand, and let Hamish haul him to his feet.
68
Kids Say the Darndest Things
Verena maneuvered her new Swift through the open double doors leading from the long balcony high on the wall of the palace of Crann, entering the enormous, vaulted ballroom on the top floor. Feeling her nimble craft under her fingers, responding instantly to her touch, helped her feel like her healing from the traumatic battle was finally complete.
She should probably stop wrecking her Swift. Hamish had jokingly suggested she number them to help him keep up with how many she’d crashed. Connor had suggested she try a different name. Maybe Swift was unlucky.
Not yet. Her Swift was as much a part of her as Hamish’s battle suit was to him. She vowed to never wreck another one.
She also planned to continue making spares because life happened, and there were so many more upgrades she wanted to explore anyway. Verena landed the Swift, dropped the window shielding, and jumped out. She felt strong even without tapping the awesome power of granite. The week since the battle of Lossit valley had restored her to full health.
Most of the others were already gathered in the huge room, which they had appropriated as their command center. Tables and desks covered in parchment and scrolls clustered at the far side of the room, swarmed by officers, aides, and secretaries busy managing the unending challenges associated with running a vast military campaign.
Many of their troops had returned to Merkland, so that made some of the job easier. General Rory, with Anika and Erich were in charge of that northern army that included many of the Merkland troops, plus Arishat League forces. They bore with them many of the wounded and were protecting the northern border, as well as repairing damaged mechanicals, including five of the giant Battalions. Once those were air worthy again, they could deploy anywhere across Obrion as needed.
