The Chosen

by Taran Matharu

  “Quintus, you’re a genius,” Cade said.

  He snatched the remains of the mollusk and swallowed it down triumphantly. It tasted as bad as it looked, but Cade knew he needed his strength.

  There was work to do.

  CHAPTER

  46

  00:01:57:09

  00:01:57:08

  00:01:57:07

  “You’ve cracked, haven’t you?” Scott said, shaking his head.

  Cade grinned and ignored him. He pushed more wood into the makeshift kiln he had made, a large, simple tube made of clay and straw, with an air hole in its base. Inside, the coals glowed almost white, and flames roared as they flared from the tube’s top. The heat was immense, but still Cade lowered his face and blew into the fiery maelstrom.

  “The others are wondering what you’re up to,” Scott said, scratching the stubble sprouting on his chin.

  “I’ll explain later,” Cade said. “Just keep looking for rocks.”

  Scott sighed and strode off, muttering under his breath. Cade busied himself with thrusting more wood into the kiln, glad that he had built it in the shadow of the keep. The shade provided some small comfort in the oppressive heat of the day.

  He had barely slept, spending much of the night taking clay from the banks of the plunge pool and carrying it by hand to the relative shelter of the keep and its walls, where the breeze would not disturb his efforts and the materials he needed were close at hand. A single gust of wind at the wrong moment could ruin everything he had planned.

  The wood added, Cade looked over his shoulder to survey the work that had been done that morning. At the top of the wall, dozens of rocks ranging from the size of a bowling ball to an exercise ball had been piled upon the battlements.

  The problem had turned out not to be carrying the rocks up, but finding any. They had salvaged some of the rubble that had fallen from the structure, but the mountainside lacked boulders of a suitable size. Most of those in the plunge pool were too large, and even a smaller one they’d found there had required the efforts of almost all of them, a lot of cursing, and several bruised fingers to hoist it to the top of the walls.

  Of all the others, only Yoshi had avoided most of the backbreaking labor, setting himself up beside the well and sharpening each of the swords with a large flat pebble he had found. Quintus’s gladius was no longer a rusted stabbing weapon, but instead a sharp, shining blade. When the legionary had seen it, he’d expressed his joy by hugging Yoshi so hard, the boy needed to slap Quintus’s back for him to let go.

  Cade watched Bea hurry past, another amphora full of water balanced on her head. Cade knew that outside, they would be sloshing it along the base of the wall, where earlier they had dug a rough trench, having lined the inside with leaves to help it retain water. Even the shy girl was resentful, but to the group’s credit, none had questioned him until now.

  Backbreaking work, and with no reasoning as to why. But Cade hadn’t had time to explain—it had taken him most of the night to gather the materials, and now the process needed to start immediately.

  The flames now burning themselves down, Cade laid out the dozen clay bowls he had taken from the dormitory in the keep. Nearby, some of the substance he had prepared earlier sat in a forlorn pile. He only wished he had more.

  The fire burned on, and Cade wanted to help the others; pull his weight. But this was too important. Instead, he crouched on his haunches and watched the flames.

  When the ashes within the kiln had cooled, Cade carefully scooped out its precious contents, trying to keep the burned shells intact and away from the gray ashes they rested upon. For that was what he was doing.

  Burning every shell he could find, snail, egg, or mollusk, until they were crumbling white fragments. He was careful to wipe the sweat from his fingers before touching them; he had to do it all barehanded. As he did so, he kept a strip of cloth wrapped around his face, and wiped his fingers on his uniform at regular intervals. Still, the tips of his fingers were red and raw by the time he was done.

  Finally, he was ready. Each bowl was filled to the brim with the shells’ burned remains, and now he carefully crushed them to dust using a blunt piece of firewood. Soon, he was left with bowlfuls of chalky powder. He covered each with a second bowl, keeping the contents safe from the breeze. It had all taken the best part of the night and morning, and the afternoon sun was at its zenith. He crouched there, beside his precious cargo.

  “All right, you’ve got to tell us what all this is about,” Amber said.

  Cade turned to see the rest of the group trailing after her, each one soaked in sweat, their hair plastered across their foreheads. He forced a smile, hoping that they would understand.

  “What you see here is quicklime, or calcium oxide,” Cade said, pointing at the bowls. “Burned shells, crushed to a powder. It’s the key ingredient in concrete—I think that’s what they used to make mortar for the walls, unless they found a source of limestone nearby.”

  The others stared at him blankly. Cade plowed on.

  “Quicklime reacts violently with moisture,” he said. “So much so that it’s been used as a weapon for centuries. If inhaled, it’ll scorch your lungs and throat. Get it in your eyes, you’ll be blinded as they boil in their sockets. Wet skin, and it’ll fry you.”

  Jim gave a low whistle.

  “Chemical warfare,” Grace breathed.

  “An ancient form of it, yes,” Cade said. “And what with vipers having such big eyes … well, I thought it was a good idea.”

  He smiled.

  “That’s why you’ve been having us wet the base of the wall,” Amber said. “So it burns their skin when it’s wet too.”

  “That’s right. They’ve been drying out in the desert this whole time, so it was the only way,” Cade said. “And there’s no stopping it once it starts, so don’t get any on you. Water only makes it worse. Obviously.”

  Eric strode over and clapped Cade on the back.

  “You’re a genius,” he said.

  Cade shrugged, trying not to grin.

  “I just hope it works,” he said. “I confirmed all this with the Codex; it even told me how to make the kiln … it knows a lot. But if it didn’t burn properly, or the powder reacts with the moisture from the air before the battle, it might not work perfectly, if at all.”

  “Whatever, man,” Jim said. “You’re a hero in my book.”

  Cade stood and looked over at the Codex. He had sent it away from him, for the incessant countdown had made him nervous. But he already knew how long they had left. Less than two hours to go.

  Not nearly enough time for all he had planned.

  “Is Quintus here?” Cade asked. “You should all get some more practice with the slinging. We’ve got enough boulders up top, and the foot of the wall must be good and wet by now.”

  “Yeah,” Scott said. “He’s up there.”

  Cade glanced up, only to see the legionary staring out at the glowing barrier. As he watched, the boy lifted a sling and swung it once, whipping it over his head. Even from where he stood, Cade heard the thrum in the air and the distinct crack as it made contact with the force field. Beyond, he heard a series of screeches from the vipers, disturbed by the noise.

  “All right, you’ve got about two hours to practice,” Cade said. “Take these bowls up to the wall while you’re at it. Carefully!”

  They groaned and did as he asked, but Cade took Amber aside before she could join them.

  “Do you need the practice?” Cade asked. “How good are you with slinging?”

  Amber smiled and crossed her arms.

  “Better than you,” she said.

  “Okay, then you’re with me,” Cade said, glancing at his pile of leftover firewood. “I’ve got another idea.”

  CHAPTER

  47

  There was nothing more to be done. Or at least, no time left to do it. Now they stood along the battlements, surveying the battlefield.

  The vipers were massed against the
force field, staring silently with their inky black eyes, mouths hanging open as they panted in the heat. If they were dehydrated or suffering from heatstroke, they did not show it. Instead, they squatted on their haunches like brown toads, near-motionless. Waiting, just like Cade was.

  It was as if they knew what was about to come. What instinct had driven them here? When he had first appeared on this planet, it had all made sense—carnivorous hunger prompting them to attack him as they waited on the ledge. As they massed in the dry heat, it seemed something else was controlling them, keeping them in place. Pheromones, perhaps, or some form of mind control. He wouldn’t put anything past the so-called gods.

  Not that any of that mattered now. They were here; that was all he needed to know. Ahead of him, the Codex floated above the bone fields, its timer ticking down.

  00:00:01:11

  00:00:01:10

  00:00:01:09

  One minute to go. Cade pulled back his hood so as not to block his field of view, then looked up and down the ramparts, making sure everyone was in position. Gobbler, Jim, Scott, and Eric protected the left flank, while Quintus, Yoshi, and Spex protected the middle.

  Amber, Grace, Trix, and Bea were on the right flank, while Cade paced back and forth along the center, ready to shore up wherever help was needed. As the one responsible for their being here, it was his job to stand where he could direct them all. Even if it meant being where the fighting would be thickest.

  With Amber and Quintus closest to him, he felt a little better, but the hilt of his sword was slippery with sweat in his hands. He had pocketed some of the ashes from the fire, and now he rubbed it between his palms until they were gritty and dry once more.

  00:00:00:05

  00:00:00:04

  00:00:00:03

  “Get ready,” Cade shouted.

  As if they heard him, the vipers finally began to stir, their fish-egg eyes swiveling in their sockets as the barrier flickered out of existence. Then, as one … they charged.

  Their speed was extraordinary, the lithe bodies leaping and loping across the bone-strewn ground. Scores of them, so many that it looked like a muddy wave flowing over the black earth. Quintus’s sling stone was already in the air, disappearing into the masses and leaving a single broken corpse behind.

  A second slug followed the first, but Cade forced himself to look away from Quintus’s movements. He couldn’t afford to be distracted if he was to direct the others.

  “Come on,” he whispered, his sword in his left hand, sling in the other.

  The frontrunners reached the farthest marker, knocking the piled bones askew.

  “Throw,” Cade yelled, twirling his sling above his head.

  Twelve lead sling stones whipped through the air, too fast and small to follow. Cade didn’t see the impact, only a single sprawled body left in the horde’s wake and two injured stragglers limping behind it. A second, more ragged volley followed the first, for now they were throwing at will. It was hard to miss with so many targets, and the dull smack of lead on flesh was accompanied by yowls of anger.

  Cade had imagined the slingers being a game changer, but already the frontrunners had reached the halfway mark between the desert and the wall. But there was a surprise waiting for them, and now their screeches of pain began in earnest.

  He and Amber had left dozens of sharpened stakes in the wet earth, the tips fire hardened in his kiln and buried at random. Even as he watched, the closest viper reared back, yanking a sliver of wood from the ground with its impaled hand. Its motions were mimicked up and down the line, but still more passed through the field of spikes unhindered, breaking up the stampede and turning the single wave into a staggered flow of monsters.

  Two more salvos followed before the first of them reached the shadows of the walls, a half dozen of the fastest that had escaped their stake field. There, Cade and Amber had left far larger stakes, packed close enough that they were almost like a second wall. These were not so effective. Most of the vipers just maneuvered around the loosely spaced wall, while others yanked them out and trampled over them. Still, it bought the defenders precious seconds. Many vipers were limping behind, and the death count was close to a dozen.

  The sling stone attack continued, but the slowing of the creatures came with its own disadvantages—the vipers were now scattered along the canyon, far harder to hit than the roiling crowd they had formed earlier.

  And despite the group’s efforts, the first of the creatures had arrived at the wall’s base, crawling through the wet trench with hisses of apparent pleasure. Clearly, their time spent in the heat had not been pleasant for them, buying Cade a few more precious seconds as the monsters slithered around in the trenches like pigs in mud.

  But whatever instinct was driving the monsters to attack soon outweighed the pleasures of the trench, and now the first of the monsters dug its claws into the wall, just beneath Cade, squalling encouragement to those around it.

  More followed, and the vipers wasted no time in climbing. Cade could do nothing but watch as their claws hooked deep into the crumbling mortar, giving them ample purchase as they scrabbled upward.

  “Throw, then ready swords,” Cade bellowed, hurling a final stone at an injured viper below. To his surprise, it struck home, and even over the yowling of the attackers, he heard the beast’s collarbone break with an audible snap.

  Letting the rope fall from his fingers, he gripped his sword two handed and stared at the scattered vipers climbing the length of the walls.

  “Not yet,” he whispered, looking at the boulders resting on the parapet in front of him.

  His strategy of slowing the vipers was working against him, for half the vipers were straggling, picking their way through the minefield of stakes. He needed them massed for his next move. Even so, there were plenty gathered beneath the wall, with more joining every second. It would have to be enough.

  The first viper, a scarred creature with snaggled teeth, was directly below. The monster gained a foot each time it leaped and backslid, frantic to get at him. Cade took one more look at it, quelling the nausea that swirled in his stomach. He could smell its animal stench and see its needle teeth glistening. It was time.

  “Rocks,” he bellowed, tipping a beach ball–sized boulder over the rampart.

  It tumbled down, dislodging mortar on its way, before connecting with the lead viper and knocking it into the crowd. The stone thudded on top of it with a crackle of breaking bones. All along the wall, similar scenes were taking place as the others pushed theirs down. But still the vipers climbed, if anything more frantic in their desire to get at the human flesh above.

  Cade had hoped to be methodical with the rocks, but now the entire breadth of the wall was being swarmed by the monstrosities. He pushed down another stone, and another, barely looking as he frantically tipped those that remained over the top.

  Only a few were as effective as the first, but these still made their mark. With each falling viper, those behind it cascaded in turn. But some clung doggedly on, enduring the rocks that loosened their teeth and bloodied their taut-skinned faces.

  Soon there was no rubble left. By now, most of the vipers had edged their way across the bone fields, until almost all who remained were massed beneath them.

  Cade forced a grim smile and raised a clenched fist. Along the wall, the others waited for his signal, tugging the lids from their bowls. Cade did the same, waiting to tip it forward. He peered over the edge, and the black globes of eyes fixated hungrily on him. He could hear the gurgle of their breathing now. Still he kept his arm outstretched.

  “Almost,” he whispered to himself. “Almost.”

  The first viper’s claw hooked over the wall, and it warbled a long, triumphant howl. Cade dropped his fist and flung the bowl into the empty space.

  White powder billowed like smoke. It had seemed a pitiful amount in the bowls, but once it hit the air it turned into a dust plume that drifted wide and settled on the crowds below, if not as far or as thickly a
s Cade had hoped.

  There was little time to see the results though, for a howling beast was dragging itself over the edge. Cade took his sword and stabbed down, the blade grating as it slipped through its nasal passage and deep into its throat.

  Blood sprayed, hot and caustic. He watched the viper fall, taking others with it. But the wall was wide on either side of him, and now others were cresting the top. Cade chopped down, his blade clanging on the rampart as it severed a reaching claw.

  The beast jerked away, and Cade spun as another mounted the parapet behind him. He swung in a wide arc, slicing through its shoulder and deep into its chest. It tipped over, and Cade almost lost his blade, managing to yank it free with a grunt.

  Beside him, Amber yelled in anger as a body tumbled from the wall, hitting the churned ground beneath with a wet slap. Her sword went with it, trapped in the beast’s skull, but Amber was swift to heft her axe from the ground beside her and chop down at her next opponent.

  The others were holding their own too, though he could barely snatch more than a glance before stabbing down at another viper vaulting the parapet. It was then that he heard the squealing, so loud it hurt his ears. He risked a glimpse over the wall, ignoring a third viper scrambling up on his right.

  Beneath, he saw the creatures below pawing at their eyes, their long tongues roaming their dust-encrusted faces. Others were choking and dry heaving, the caustic powder deep in their throats and lungs.

  Not all had been incapacitated though, especially those who were farthest back. Fortunately, many of these specimens were the ones who had lingered, the injured and the cowardly. But still the horde climbed, even as their very bodies sizzled. Blinded and breathless, the sightless specimens continued by touch and sound alone.

  Cade pivoted and stabbed at the newly arrived viper on his right, but the creature skittered out of reach. He heard the scrape of claws behind him, but he dared not turn his back. Sandwiched between two opponents, he could only charge forward, skewering the viper through the chest. He was rewarded with a rake across his forearms for his trouble, a parting gift from the dying creature.