by Greg Curtis
“It doesn't matter if it makes sense or not,” he replied. “There are eight powerful spell-casters in this glider and eight more in the one behind us. If it's a trap, we can fight our way out of it.”
He sounded confident. But Sorsha wasn't sure he was. She suspected he might just be trying to sound that way to lift everyone's spirits. Still he was right, together they were sixteen of the most powerful spell-casters in the realm. Few could stand against them. Except maybe a spider queen.
But if this was a trap and they couldn't get out of it, at least she knew that their people were in good shape. There were surely twenty thousand of them now free in the world. And while they were in varying states of health, many of them now only at the start of their recovery after what had been done to them, that was still too many to fight. Magic had returned to the realm and it would not be stopped. In time everyone would be free. Her family too – she prayed.
Sorsha checked her pocket watch. An hour to go. Then she returned to staring at the land ahead of them. Flat land for the most part. But maybe she told herself, the start of the foothills on the horizon. And an unexpected thought struck her – damn they could use a Smythe! They were phenomenal spies. But they still only had one and he was busy.
She kept that thought to herself and did her best to relax into the seat as she studied the land ahead and hunted for their destination.
The foothills came upon them maybe fifteen or twenty minutes later, and she thought they looked completely normal. Even innocent. Certainly there was nothing about them that suggested their could be an enemy lurking among them. There were no trees on them. Just grass. But still she had the driver slow a little as they approached, so she and the others could study them. And then she had them stop.
“Lance,” she turned to their crake. “You feeling up to a little flying?” She knew he was. For whatever reason he was one of their best recovered people. Everyone suffered. Everyone was weak at first. But some recovered faster than others.
“You want me to see what's on the other side of those hills?”
“And if you find something I want you to bring the lords of the storm to it!” Her plan was simple. Destroy everything ahead of them. After all, from what they knew about this land, there was no one here save a few brigands hiding from the authorities.
“I can do that.” He smiled savagely, a peculiar expression on a man who was as slightly built as he was. He looked like little more than a boy. But then all crakes were slightly built and young looking. “Those hills won't stand a chance!”
He stepped off the glider, unfurled his wings, and took to the skies. Moments later he was already gaining height and flying towards their destination. Meanwhile she got out and stretched her legs. But she also readied her magic. Just in case. And she had to wonder just how many hell-hounds she could send into those hills if she had to. And how quickly.
Nothing happened for a time. They were still the best part of a league from the foot hills and crakes weren't the fastest of fliers. But eventually she saw the sky ahead darkening and she knew the storm was coming.
Five minutes later it broke.
The dark clouds ahead of them, filled with lightning and thunder exploded across the sky. For as far as the eye could see, the lords of storm were playing, turning the sky into a vision of hell and the land below it into a wasteland. She shook her head in disbelief. She had always known crakes were powerful, but this was true dominion.
“He seems to be having fun,” Peth remarked as he stood beside her.
Sorsha didn't answer him. She just stood there and stared, and kept her magic close. Whatever was happening on the other side of that hill, she didn't trust it.
White light abruptly pierced the dark clouds, causing her to jump. But while she didn't know what the light was, she knew it wasn't Lance. It was something striking up from the ground trying to kill whatever was above it. To kill the crake. And it wasn't just one enemy striking. More and more beams of that blinding white light began striking at the dark clouds above.
But there was worse. She saw that light and she knew it. She recognised the magic. Not the spell. Not the shape of it. Not the way it struck at the skies. None of that was familiar. But the vitality behind it – that she knew. It was hers. Not just hers. Her families. She felt the connection to it. And as she did so, she understood.
This was their stolen magic. Their stolen life. Enchanted into powerful weapons and released. It echoed within her. Which could only mean one thing.
“The Silver Order are on the other side of those hills.” She announced it to the others, but when she looked around she realised she didn't have to. This was their stolen life too. They recognised it. They too felt sick. It was as though their own blood, drained from their very bodies, was burning in front of them. Their own blood cried out in horror as it did so.
How many of the Silver Order remained? In time her thoughts turned to more practical questions. And as she stared and realised that there were surely forty or fifty of the blinding white rays of light piercing the storm above their head, she knew that there had to be forty or fifty of the Silver Order on the ground.
All those cities where they'd battled for their freedom. Where they'd found at most a handful of the Silver Order in each, and endless mercenaries taking their orders, and wondered where the rest were – now she knew. They were here. They'd always been here. Why?
But as the storm raged in front of them, Sorsha knew there were other, more important matters to consider. First of course was Lance. She knew he hadn't been hit, because the storm continued to rage. And of course he was probably well protected. He was flying in the dark clouds, unable to be seen. So they were striking at random. But he couldn't keep flying forever. In fact he was probably near the end of his strength already. And whoever was striking at him, didn't seem to be letting up.
They had to help him.
Tran, Myke,” she called to the two sorcerers with them. “We need darkness. Absolute blindness on the other side of that hill. And a voice to call Lance back to us.” It wasn't a perfect solution, but it was the best way she could think of to get their comrade back safely. And she guessed when she saw their blue eyes glowing brightly as they called their spells to them, that they agreed.
“Lacie, hell-hounds. All you can manage,” she ordered her fellow walker. “Because the moment Lance is back we're sending them over the hill.” And then she started summoning her own. They needed an army, just in case. And hell-hounds, blind or otherwise, would scare the hell out of anyone.
“And the rest of us?” Peth asked.
“Wait and see. We'll know more when Lance returns.” Mostly they'd know what was on the other side of those hills. But then she had a thought.
“Tannia,” she asked the grand druid. “See if you can summon a unicorn or two.” The magical beasts were powerful creatures. Few would dare cross one. Certainly very few spell-casters. Then she returned to her own summoning. An army of hell-hounds would tear an enemy apart.
Soon, though it seemed for ever as the long seconds simply seemed to refuse to tick by, she and Lacie had their fiery warriors gathering in numbers before them, while the sky ahead turned completely black. There were no clouds any longer – none that they could see anyway. And no rays of light bursting into the sky. There was only darkness. Her plan was working.
But she didn't have time to celebrate. She had to keep summoning.
A few minutes later their comrade returned, and then almost collapsed to the ground as he landed. He was clearly at the end of his strength, both physical and magical. But she didn't have time to worry about him. She had a small army of hell-hounds at her command, desperate to run over the hill and incinerate whatever was on the other side. But first she had to know what was there.
“What did you see?” she called to him as he crouched on the grass in front of them.
“A city.” He gasped for breath. “Of dirt and termite mounds. And then the silver warriors came out of some of those mo
unds.”
Even as he said it, Sorsha knew that what he'd seen weren't termite mounds. Given that they were supposedly fighting a spider queen, those mounds had to be filled with spiders. Damn the cow to hell! Lady Marshendale had been telling the truth! She took a deep breath. She didn't like spiders.
Sorsha turned to Lacie. “Send them in.” It wasn't a true army that they had. There were maybe twenty something hell-hounds in front of her and thirty in front of her fellow walker, but they had to strike before the enemy came to them.
So they sent their first strike force running into battle and then began working on summoning the next one. Of course it took time. Everything took time it seemed. But the beasts had to cross a full league or more of ground even before they reached the foot hills. But as they did she remembered that they had a drake with them.
“Petra, you think you can start lobbing some fireballs over the hill?” The sorcerers could also do that, but they were busy maintaining the inky blackness on the other side. And in any case the drakes were the true masters of the inferno.
“I thought you'd never ask!” The woman grinned at her, all her scales glowing. And then she started calling her magic and sending away ball after flaming ball of fire at the hills.
Of course they disappeared once they reached the darkness, but Sorsha was sure she could hear the soft whoosh of fire exploding in the distance even if she didn't know what they might hit. And more importantly, the more fire they could unleash on the other side, the more of their enemies would burn – because fire spread. Unfortunately she doubted that their crake had been as effective as she would have hoped for. If the city was underground, in dirt mounds, the lightning would have been of little use. But maybe the rain and wind would have done something. And perhaps most important of all, the hell-hounds were immune to fire. They also didn't have to see to hunt.
There was hope.
Then their first wave of hell-hounds reached the top of the hills, vanished into the darkness, and the battle began. She could hear them howling with their natural blood lust, even as far away as they were. She could hear the enemy too, if that strange clicking sound echoing over the hills was them. And she could see smoke, billowing out of the blackness. Whatever was on the other side of the hills was burning. But was it burning fast enough? Lance had said there was a city on the other side. A city of spiders could be bad.
“Drivers, turn the gliders around, and be ready to run if we need to.” As she sent off another dozen hell-hounds into the distant fray she gave the order. Just in case. She just wished she knew what was happening on the other side of the hills.
“Lance, have you got enough strength left to summon a breeze? One to drive the flames south?” After all she might not know what was on the other side. But fire didn't need to see to burn.
“Can do, Mistress,” he answered her.
“Good. Then get on the wagons, rest your bones and fan the flames south. Lets burn everything!”
He did as she asked and a minute or so later she could feel a gentle breeze at her back, heading south and hopefully fanning the flames. It felt good. But when she risked her concentration to thank the crake she couldn't help but notice the exhaustion in his face. He was collapsed in the seat, close to unconscious, and she knew the wind wouldn't last long.
So what else did they have in the form of ranged attacks? Because she wasn't going to risk wandering over the hills to fight hand to hand. The taurans were their best fighters – but against spiders their speed and strength and weapons might not be enough. And they weren't immune to poison. Neither were most of the creatures the druids could summon. And their only grand druid, Tannia, was busy. If only she could see what they were fighting. If she could know if they were winning.
Then the ground began to tremble and she very much began to fear that they weren't. Because they hadn't done that.
“What was that?” Someone asked, a touch of alarm in his voice.
“Don't know,” she answered him. “But get on the gliders if you're not fighting.” Sorsha had a horrible feeling that they were going to need their speed. Something in the way the ground was shaking scared her more than she could say.
But she stood her ground as did the others and sent more of her hell-hounds in to the battle. Whatever lay on the other side of that damned hill, they would make a mess of it.
“What the hell!” One of the taurans called out suddenly.
“What?”
“The hill! It's moving!”
“Hills don't move!” she yelled at the man. But still she stared at it, even as she concentrated, just in case this one did. And then her blood ran cold.
It was moving!
Except that it wasn't the hill that was moving. It was whatever was on it. An army of something in the long grass. So many and so thick that they were like a living green carpet on it, marching over the top of the hill.
Spiders! It wasn't possible! She was certain of that. There couldn't be an actual living carpet of grass coloured soldiers. Not even spiders. But the longer she stared at it, the more it became obvious that that was exactly what was happening.
The hell-hounds knew it too. They stopped running over the hill, and instead the next group of them just started incinerating the living carpet as it slowly marched down the crest of the hill. And soon that carpet was on fire. But it kept coming. It kept flowing down the damned hill. And one by one it rolled over the hell-hounds.
It wasn't magic that was defeating their army she realised. It was numbers. Sheer, unimaginable numbers.
“Tannia, wyverns!” she called out to the woman, who already had a pair of unicorns beside her. But unicorns weren't going to stop this. She wasn't sure what would. But wyverns might. Dragons would be better, but she didn't know if Tannia could actually call them. Not many could. Wyverns though, could fly and blast fire down from above.
And then they had Petra. Their own drake. “Burn that hill!” she screamed at the scaled woman. “Everything!” But was it going to be enough? The enemy kept flowing over the top of the distant hill, surely dying in their thousands. But there were millions more behind them.
Between them they slowed the advance. But the enemy wasn't stopped. He burnt. So many of the spiders were on fire that the sky was turning black with smoke even when the sorcerers let their darkness go. But even on fire the enemy kept coming. And maybe an hour later, when all of them were close to complete exhaustion, the spiders reached the bottom of the hill.
How could there be so many of them?! Sorsha kept asking herself that as she worked. But she found no answer. None that was except that this was surely the result of four hundred years of their life and their magic being stolen. They were in a very real way, fighting themselves.
Another hour passed and somehow they kept fighting. But they kept losing ground. The enemy advanced on them. And in time he was close enough that she could finally make out what they were facing. And it was spiders. Huge ones, the size of dogs. With green carapaces. And while there was a burning carpet of them leading all the way back to the top of the distant hills and beyond, it didn't matter. New ones just kept coming, walking over the burning bodies of the ones that had fallen.
There was no end in sight.
Wyverns were flying across the sky, laying down rivers of fire on the enemy. But it wasn't enough. Hell-hounds were everywhere, holding the lines, but the spiders just kept overrunning their lines. And the sky was actually raining fire. But they just wouldn't stop coming.
Sorsha began to despair. It had been a mistake coming here. This was not something they could defeat. And she was simply so tired that she could scarcely even think any more. Her very brain was burning with pain.
But just as she was reaching the end, an idea came to her. They didn't have to kill them. They just had to get rid of them. And she could do that.
No sooner had the idea come to her than she seized on it and began pouring all of her remaining strength into constructing a portal. An immense portal surely fifteen h
undred yards long though only six feet high. And somehow, fuelled by desperation, it grew solid. The spiders walked into it and vanished. At least from this realm. And she knew they wouldn't like the one they'd just walked into. It was one of the sunshine realms, a place where life could not exist. The light burnt them to ash.
Then she collapsed.
She'd used so much magic. More than she'd ever used in her entire life. And the pain of that was like a collection of needles in her head. But even as she knelt there on the ground, trying not to fall the rest of the way to the grass, she could feel the spiders walking through the portal to their deaths. They wouldn't stop marching.
For ages after that she simply knelt there, feeling them pass through into the other realm, and she knew a feeling of hope. And she knew more when Lacie added to her portal and it grew even wider, making certain that none of the enemy would go around the sides.
