by Jaxon Reed
The wizards looked at one another, several of them nodding. Oldstone cleared his throat.
“Ground magic is your specialty, Redstone. Why don’t you see to it?”
Redstone nodded. The chunk of ground he stood on broke away, and he flew off toward the ramparts.
Oldstone watched him recede in the distance, then turned to address the dwarf again.
“Master Fret, if you would follow me, I would like to get your thoughts on our other defensive preparations. But first, I have a short speech that everyone needs to hear.”
When the villagers had assembled near the gate, Oldstone levitated a few paces into the air so they all could see him. He amplified his voice so they could hear him, too.
“We want to thank you all for your service today. Your loyalty to Wizard Greystone and Lord Trant, and your desire to defend your home is admirable. You are all to be commended.
“I have a spell that is very difficult and requires a great deal of strength to conjure. I have waited until this morning because, for one reason, it works best when cast in the morning light. It is called the Second Skin of Sunlight.
“Once this spell is cast, as long as the sun shines today you will be invulnerable. Swords and arrows, knives and arbalest bolts, all these and more will fail to penetrate your skin.
“Now, if you all would be so good as to remain standing still for a moment, I’ll cast the spell.”
Oldstone floated back down to the ground, then turned toward the rising sun and started waving his hands in a complicated pattern. A golden halo appeared around his head, then his entire body seemed to glow in sunlight. Arcs of light sprouted off, landing on the people all around him. Those nearest to him were touched by the light first, then the arcs spread rapidly outward.
Each person touched by an arc glowed briefly, then they were covered in a layer of translucent golden light.
Out in the crowd, Stin received an arc of light from the wizard. His body was instantly covered by golden illumination. He pushed against the palm of his hand with a finger, and found he couldn’t touch his flesh.
To his right, Beet looked in wonder at his own hands.
“By the Hightower, I ain’t never seen nothin’ like this before!”
Beet looked over at Stin, and Stin could see an idea forming in the other man’s head. He guessed what Beet was thinking.
“Don’t do it!”
But before Stin could react, Beet swung his halberd at him. It stopped suddenly, stuck in the golden light at Stin’s midsection.
“Thanks a lot. You could have really hurt me with that.”
Beet’s face lit up in a smile.
“It works! Try it on me!”
Stin took his halberd and swung a little harder than he intended at Beet’s neck. But it stopped too, becoming immobile in the layer of light. Beet laughed, triumphantly.
“They can’t touch us! Ay, halberds! Follow me to the ramparts!
When the last person received their second skin, Oldstone slumped suddenly in exhaustion. Mita ran over and propped him up on her shoulder.
“Master? Are you alright?”
“Hm? I’m fine. That one takes a lot out of me. Let me just conjure a chair and sit for a moment.”
He moved his hand to try and create a chair, but failed. Mita saw the movement and grasped the spell at once. She repeated it, successfully, and a simple wooden chair popped into existence. She set him gently down on it.
As Redstone hovered over the field near the ramparts, he watched the last of the trees get ripped up by metal men. He waved his arms, and the ground shifted along the tree line. Underground pockets formed, giant cavities of empty space, as dirt receded and moved to other locations. The surface stayed mostly the same, despite a few dips that suddenly formed. Once finished, he nodded to himself in satisfaction.
The final few trees were uprooted and carried off. Ten giant metal men advanced toward the open field and the ramparts. They stomped forward, their feet make the ground tremble. Several heads popped up over the dirt works as villagers took up defensive positions and craned their necks for a view.
Redstone flew back to the others. He carved out an even larger chunk of ground where all the wizards stood, then he lifted it up into the air and moved everyone closer to the front lines, hovering several paces up.
He smiled at Mita and the exhausted Oldstone.
“This will be our command post. Best seat in the house!”
Oldstone smiled tiredly, and murmured soft thanks.
They floated above the trenches and ramparts, watching as the first ten metal men marched into the clearing.
Almost in unison, as they took another step, the ground gave way suddenly. Nine of the giants fell into a pit as they broke through its light cover. The tenth had uprooted the last tree, and marched slightly behind the others. It teetered over the edge of the pit, one foot hanging out over empty air. The wizards and the villagers watched as it comically swung its arms in circles, trying to regain balance. Then it slowly tumped over and fell face-first into the large hole.
“Made ’em deep enough they can’t climb out, I hope,” Redstone said.
He motioned with his hand and displaced dirt suddenly reappeared, burying the ten giants.
“Congratulations,” Loadstone said. “You’ve eliminated a tenth of them.”
He nodded toward the distance, where dozens more metal men lumbered toward the clearing.
“Hmph. Can ye do any better, old friend?”
Loadstone nodded.
“Let’s see how they stand up to lightning bolts.”
“Lightning bolts? Ye can’t make those strike with any accuracy.”
“I shouldn’t need accuracy. There are only so many of them. I’m bound to hit some.”
Loadstone thrust forward his staff, and a giant bolt of lightning fell out of the sky. It struck the side of one of the advancing metal men with a giant clap of thunder. They watched it fall, its arms and legs flying off as it tumbled down to the ground in a pile of scrap.
The villagers cheered. Loadstone started bringing down bolt after bolt. Some found a giant, others broke uselessly against the ground leaving scorched black marks everywhere and small fires in the grass.
But the metal men steadily moved forward.
Oldstone stood, holding onto the chair. Mita rushed over to hold his arm, offering support.
“I’m fine. I’ll be fine. But your time has come.”
He nodded in the direction of the man-made monsters. She nodded back, and flew off toward the battle.
Mita hovered over the trenches and ramparts. The villagers pointed up at her, and she could hear a few cries of, “Battlemaiden!” No one below had ever seen one before, she knew, but they recognized her from the old stories. She smiled and drew her blade from the scabbard strapped across her back. She concentrated on it, and the blade doubled in length.
Recalling her experience with the simulated rock ogre, she flew straight up, then came down fast on top of the head of the lead metal giant, slamming the point of her blade into its metal skull. Despite his lumbering gait, he reacted with remarkable speed and agility, swatting her off his head with his giant sword.
She fell to the ground in surprise, landing on her rear.
“Oof! Well, that didn’t work.”
The giant turned and swung down at her with his sword. She dodged it, then jumped back into the air.
She rushed him quickly, and tried to chop off his sword arm. But he was quicker. His sword blocked her and pushed her to the side as she flew by.
She rushed him again, drawing a flurry from his blade. This time she stopped and engaged him with her own blade. She managed to slice through the top pace and a half of his sword before he whacked her on the side of the head with it.
She fell to the ground again, stunned. Two other metal men clanked over to help, focused on her black-clad body. The three of them began raining down blows on her with their swords.
At the floating comm
and post, the wizards watched in worry as the metal men whacked away at Mita.
Greystone edged closer to Oldstone. They exchanged looks.
“You need to summon Theena.”
“I’ve told you. I do not care to bring forth that facsimile.”
Greystone nodded toward Mita’s prone form on the ground below. Now five metal men struck her repeatedly with their swords.
“This isn’t about you, old man.”
Oldstone sighed, and nodded in acquiescence as he watched the giants striking Mita again and again. He motioned with his hand, and a black cloud of smoke arced out, materializing into the likeness of Theena.
She smiled at him with love in her eyes. Despite everything, he found himself smiling back.
After several long seconds, he finally broke away from her beautiful gaze and pointed down toward the battlefield.
“I need you to help our new battlemaiden. Teach her as much as you can about winning fights like this.”
Theena looked down at the advancing giants and the group flailing on Mita, and a different smile grew on her face. She flew up, then down toward the skirmish below.
“Hold steady! Fall back and into position! We only need a few lookouts on the ridge. Pikers in the trench, halberds behind them!”
Trant rode past the rough formations of villagers, shouting out orders. Fret sat behind him on the back of the saddle, holding on tight. Every once in a while, Fret would make a suggestion and Trant would shout out new orders. In all the hustle and bustle, few noticed the little dwarf behind him.
Trant pulled up at the end of the long trench, and guided the horse around it. He squeezed his heels to the horse’s side, encouraging it to climb the ramparts. They looked down on their left at the villagers in and around the trench, and to their right at the metal men advancing toward them.
“What do you think, Fret? We’ve not the world’s best army by any means.”
“Aye. But th’ sunlight armor will help, an’ with th’ wizards an’ their battlemaidens we stand a fair chance.”
Trant nodded in agreement as another lightning bolt struck down one of the giants.
“Let’s hope the battlemaidens and the wizards can take care of those iron lummoxes before they get here. I’d much rather fight lancers and pikers than those things.”
Theena’s facsimile rushed toward the metal men whacking away at Mita. A globe of energy enveloped her as she flew, growing steadily. Just before impact, she flung the globe forward, smashing into the five giants and sending them flying backwards. Three crashed into others nearby.
Theena knelt down over Mita’s prone body. She placed the palm of her hand over Mita’s face and cast a healing spell.
Mita’s eyes fluttered open. Theena smiled down at her.
“You’ve suffered a concussion, sister. It’s one thing the armor doesn’t protect well against. That’s why you should always cast Globe of Protection, too. I’ve got you back to normal, though.”
Mita’s pupils dilated as she realized who was talking to her. At first she was confused by the term ‘sister.’ Then she understood that Oldstone must have conjured Theena’s facsimile for her. Theena addressed her as ‘sister’ because she was another battlemaiden. They were sisters in combat, not in blood.
Theena stood, and reached down a black-clad hand to help Mita up. Standing, Mita saw Theena stood a few fingers taller. Other than that, they looked remarkably similar in their battle armor, with dark hair and brown skin showing under their masks.
“Do you feel like kicking some ass, sister?”
“Yes! But these things are hard to put down.”
A few metal men saw them, and clanked in their direction, swords swinging.
“You know what they say, sister. The bigger they are . . .”
“. . . The harder they fall!”
They both flew up in the air and headed for the nearest giant.
“You know the Globe of Expulsion, sister?”
“Yes. A cat taught me.”
“Very good. You can modify it, change its shape. It doesn’t always have to be a globe. Watch.”
Theena shoved both her hands out, palms up, and a huge cone of energy shot toward the charging giant.
Boom!
The metal man exploded, all its articulated parts scattering. The torso flew across the ground, its back door breaking off as it tumbled.
Mita grasped the alteration to the spell at once, and repeated it. She aimed her outstretched palms at another one.
Boom!
“Nice work, sister! Now hurry, let’s take them all down. Between us and the lightning it shouldn’t take too long.”
Darkstone flew ahead of his advancing army on a column of fire and smoke. By now he expected whatever defenses the village offered to have been reduced to insignificance by his metal men. Lancers on horseback trotted behind him in formation, minutes away from the clearing. The pikers and other soldiers double marched behind them, at the speed of a light jog. Soon, his full forces would be on the battlefield.
His brows furrowed when he saw lightning bolts flashing down from the sky, along with black streaks flying back and forth.
He paused on the edge of the field, and looked down at the remnants of his metal army. Only a dozen remained standing, swinging their swords futilely at two battlemaidens who shot huge energy blasts at them. As he watched, three attacking the battlemaidens exploded, while another fell to the ground after being zapped by lightning.
Darkstone howled in rage.
The wizards watched a scrying window. Greystone waved his hand, and the scene changed to another hawk over the recently widened road.
“The lancers will be here within the hour. They may be slowed by debris on the field, but they’ll get here soon nonetheless. Pikers and swordsmen are following after.”
He turned toward Oldstone, who sat exhausted in his chair.
“We could use Artereo too, old man.”
“Very well.”
Oldstone held out his hand, palm up, and a streak of black smoke arced out and down to the ground below, materializing into Artereo’s facsimile.
Artereo looked back up at the wizards on the floating chunk of ground, and bowed gracefully. Then he turned and ran toward the trench.
“Shouldn’t we have placed him closer to the battle?”
Oldstone looked up to see who asked the question. He realized it was Loadstone.
“No, Artereo always manages to find the battle. Or if not, he brings it to him.”
The first Emeraldian lancers trotted out onto the battlefield and pulled the reins of their horses to a halt. In the distance, they saw the last standing metal man fall to the ground, two black-clad people flying in the air above it.
Darkstone floated down on a pillar of fire and smoke. A couple of the horses, despite their training, nervously backed away from the sight.
“You will hold off attacking until I’ve taken care of the battlemaidens and the wizards. Otherwise you’ll be slaughtered.”
That sounded good to everyone present, but they looked to their captain for an official agreement. He nodded, and they all sighed in relief.
Darkstone held out his arms in both directions, and closed his eyes in concentration. Invisible beams shot out in cones from both his arms. The spell he conjured had no name, since it was one of his own design and he had not yet bothered to classify it. But it could have been called a Spell of Magic Detection if someone had to name it.
Trees, animals, even grass and insects hold magic in them, and as the beams spread out in both directions in an ever widening arc, the presence of their magic bounced back to the wizard.
Finally, Darkstone opened his eyes. He let his left hand drop and he turned to focus on his right. In the distance, he sensed a small portion of the forest where no magic could be detected under the ground. He cemented the location in his mind.
Darkstone turned and addressed the captain again.
“Do not advance until I get back and g
ive the word.”
The captain nodded in acknowledgement.
“Give me your lance.”
This surprised everybody, especially the captain. Reluctantly, he lifted the lance out of its leather pocket on his horse’s side. He turned it so the handle faced Darkstone and handed it to him.
The wizard took the lance, and flew off on a column of fire and smoke.
Chapter 16
Darkstone quickly flew to the spot he deduced the Forlorn Dagger must be hidden. Since it sapped everything it touched of magic, the one unmagical place in the forest must be its location.
He landed in a small clearing, and noticed a brown spot in the middle where the ground had been disturbed and no grass grew. He knew better than to try and dig it out directly by magic. Instead, he made a motion with both of his hands, and magically cleared out a hole on the side of the brown spot.
He brought the lance over, and set it on the ground, then jumped down into the hole. He dug at the side of it with his hands, under the brown spot.
He felt something metal, and grabbed it. The magic drained from him immediately.
Darkstone pulled the dagger out of the dirt, and climbed back out of the hole. He reached into a pocket of his ragged trousers and pulled out a length of cord. Then he picked up the lance and lashed the dagger tightly to its tip.
Darkstone let go of the dagger, and set the lance down gently. He stepped back several paces, and felt the magic flow back into him.
He smiled and chuckled softly. So far everything had proceeded to plan.
He stretched out his arm and pointed toward the lance’s handle, several paces away from its metal tip and the dagger. He cast a spell and the handle levitated, bringing the lance and the dagger up in the air with it.
He laughed harder now that he knew his idea would work. Darkstone modified the spell. The lance turned, facing its tip and the dagger toward the battlefield. It raced off into the sky.
