Descent Into Fury

by Sean Hinn

  “You’ll be slaughtered, General,” said Nia. “Without question.”

  Slater eyed Varyl.

  “I agree with that assessment, Sir. And if we do nothing—”

  “They’ll come burn us where we stand. So, what then? We can’t march, we can’t hole up.” Slater faced Nia. “I assume you’ve got something in mind.”

  “You won’t like it,” said Nia.

  “That much I worked out on my own.”

  “There is a spell…” Nia began.

  “Of course there is.”

  “Yes. Well, if I can get my hands on some gemstones, and figure out a way to power them, I might be able to transport myself to where these Incantors are gathered. I might even be able to bring them back.”

  “Transport yourself? You mean, like, poof, there you go?”

  “Roughly.”

  Slater shook his head, disbelieving. “And you can poof them right back? All of them?”

  Nia nodded. “If they’ll come.”

  “Well, that was gonna be the rub all along. So, what do you need, some gems? I can make that happen.”

  “There’s more,” said Varyl.

  “The part I won’t like,” said Slater.

  “Ah, the thing is, it takes a whole lot of power to manage this spell,” said Nia. “And I mean a whole lot.”

  “Go on.”

  “I can…” Nia hesitated, seeking words. “Ah, I’ll just say it. I can siphon it from your army.”

  “You can what?”

  “Siphon it. I can use my magic to funnel strength from your soldiers—”

  “Over my dead arse you can.”

  Varyl snorted. “Told you he wouldn’t like it.”

  Nia held up her hands. “Just hear me out.”

  “No. Find another way.”

  “General, there really isn’t one.”

  “Too bad. We’ll figure something else out.”

  “Sir,” said Varyl. “There isn’t time.”

  “You’re backing her on this? Are you out of your mind?”

  The captain shrugged. “Probably. Better crazy and alive than sane and dead, though. Just hear her out, Sir. Doesn’t sound all that bad.”

  Slater chewed his cheek and turned to Nia.

  “The more of your soldiers I siphon from, the less, um, uncomfortable it will be. You have plenty of soldiers—”

  “Uncomfortable? You mean they’d feel it?”

  Nia nodded. “Understand, General, the Daughters do this all the time, but they do it without people’s consent. You remember the days before the battle at the bridge? Maybe remember your troops being a bit, ah—”

  “Stumbling around like drunkards for a day and a half? Yeah, I remember that. That was you lot?”

  Nia nodded, reddening.

  “And you think this is a good idea, Captain? Weakening your own troops before battle?”

  “This is different, General,” said Nia. “The power we needed for that… well, we powered an amulet. It was all supposed to help defeat the dragon.”

  Slater’s jaw fell open.

  “Anyhow, that was far more power than what I need for this. A hundred times as much. What I need for this… if even half of those here in the barracks volunteered—”

  “Volunteered?”

  Nia nodded. “I won’t do this without the consent of everyone involved, General. I told you. I do not serve Kal.”

  “Anymore.”

  Nia shrugged.

  “Well, go on, then. How sick would it make these men and women?”

  “It’s hard to tell for sure. But I’d say maybe they’ll be a bit nauseous for a few hours.”

  “A few hours. And what if it goes wrong?”

  “Goes wrong?”

  “Listen, I might know bugger-all about magic, but I know it can go wrong. I’ve lived in the shadow of that tower all my life. Accidents happen. People die.”

  Nia nodded. “Ah. That does happen. This spell, though… with enough volunteers, I think the risk of that is very low.”

  “Low, but not zero.” Slater glowered at Nia. “You know what I’m asking. Could this… this siphoning, could it kill my soldiers?”

  Nia thought for a moment. “If something were to distract me while I’m casting, then yes, anything is possible. It is powerful magic.”

  “But you deem the risk low.”

  “Very low. It would be far more likely for the spell to kill me.”

  “But you’re willing to do it.”

  Nia nodded. “I am.”

  “You’d die for this fight.”

  “Not ideally, no. But we’re all dead if we don’t act.”

  “Can’t argue with that. All right, good enough for me. If you’re willing to risk your neck for us, I’d bet my men and women would do the same. How many would you need?”

  “How many do you have?”

  “Here in the barracks? Four thousand. Another battalion stationed at the palace, which is where I need to be directly.”

  “A thousand would do.”

  “And some gems,” Slater added.

  “Bigger the better. Emeralds and sapphires, if you can get them.”

  “How many?”

  “Forty of each would be a great start. Fifty would be better.”

  “Two for each Incantor?”

  Nia nodded. “Roughly.”

  “You say ‘roughly’ a lot.”

  Nia shrugged. “Magic is an imperfect science, General.”

  “You don’t say?” Slater frowned, thinking. “Only one person I can think of would have that much treasure lying around, but he’s on his way north. There might be another rock we can turn over, though. Follow me.”

  The general marched quickly out into the square and grabbed the first horseman he could find.

  “You know where the Languid Lady is?”

  The young captain blushed. “Um, well, I think I’ve seen it…”

  “Uh huh. Take a horse up there and tell Eriks Lane I need to see him.”

  “How soon?”

  “How soon? Aw, for Fury’s sake, get off that horse. Come on, now. Go find yourself another.” Slater mounted the grey warhorse in a single, smooth leap. He lowered an arm for Nia.

  “Um, I’m not much of a rider—”

  “Good. This isn’t much of a horse. Get on up here.”

  It took Nia several tries, but the horse was patient. On the fourth try she tucked in behind Slater.

  The general turned to face Varyl. “Get me two thousand soldiers into formation. Tell them nothing. Send the rest inside. I’ll be back in ten turns.”

  ~

  “Open up, Lane, I know you’re in there.” Slater knocked again.

  “General?”

  “Yes, General. Now open up. Need your help and I’m a bit pressed for time.”

  Two bars were thrown. Lane opened the door to the Lady. Kalindra, Maris, and Chaneela stood a pace behind him.

  “Wow. Uh, forgive me Sir, I didn’t expect—”

  “You don’t have to ‘Sir’ me, Lane, unless you’re regular army now.”

  “Maybe a bit irregular, if you please.”

  “All the same. Ladies, I need a word with you.”

  “Who’s this with you?” asked Maris, suspicious.

  “Nia, ma’am.”

  “And what do you want?”

  “Are you going to invite us in,” Slater asked, looking around, “or are we just hoping to invite a few neighbors over for afternoon tea and a bit of ransacking?”

  “Come on in,” said Chaneela. “Wipe your feet. Been sweeping ash all afternoon.”

  The two entered. Slater wasted no time. “Ladies, I have to ask for a donation to the army.”

  “Ask?” pressed Kalindra.

  “Yep, just asking. You can say no if you like. But I hope you won’t.”

  “What can we do for you, General?” asked Maris, her tone milder than her sister’s.

  “Gems,” said Nia. “As many as you can spare. Emeralds and
sapphires.”

  Both Maris and Kalindra put their hands to their necks, each well bejeweled.

  “You’ll get them back, if all goes as planned.”

  “And what exactly do you need them for, Miss Nia?” demanded Chaneela.

  Nia shared a look with the house wizard. “One Fury of a spell.”

  Chaneela frowned. “We don’t keep our gems charged in this house. Not sure how much good… wait. Are you a Daughter?”

  “I was.”

  “Was? There is no ‘was’ once you take your oaths.”

  “I might have skipped those,” Nia said, offering a shy smile.

  “You can trust her,” said Slater. “I do, and that’s saying quite a lot.”

  Lane’s eyes widened. “You bet your arse it is.”

  “How do you plan to charge these?” asked Chaneela, her tone a poorly veiled accusation.

  “As you’d expect,” said Nia. “But with volunteers.”

  “Volunteers? No one in their right mind would—”

  “Let me worry about that, ma’am,” said Slater. “Can you help us?”

  “How many?” asked Kalindra. “What size?”

  “Call it fifty of each,” sad Nia. “Big as you’ve got.”

  “A hundred precious gems?” protested Maris. “What do you think we are, a bank?”

  The general leveled a gaze at Maris. “You’re better than a bank, and we both know it. Question is, do you keep them here?”

  Maris and Kalindra shared a look, communicating in the silent way twin sisters can. After a turn Maris shrugged her shoulders. “Fury’s sake, wait here. Lane, if they try to follow me, gut ’em.”

  “Will I need to gut you, General?” asked Lane with a wink.

  “No, but I’ll open you up stem to stern if you ask me that again.”

  “Oh, you boys,” Kalindra said. “You get a girl all aflutter with your talk of steel and guts.”

  Nia laughed.

  Lane shot her a look. “She’s not kidding.”

  “Yeah? We could be friends, you and I.” Nia shot Kalindra her own wink.

  “Sorry darlin’, she’s off the market,” said Lane.

  “Don’t take it too hard, dear,” said Kalindra. “You’re lovely enough, but you magic folks are into some weird stuff.”

  “You have no idea.”

  “I’m gonna throw up,” said Chaneela. “You ever cast a thing like this before?” she asked.

  “Like it? Sure,” said Nia.

  “Hmph. Maybe you could use an extra pair of hands. Make sure you don’t blow yourself up.”

  “Oh, I’ll take the help if you can give it. I’ll assume you have experience with the process?”

  “Not the way you blood and bone types do it, but yes.”

  “Solo magic, then?”

  “Solos or circles.”

  “Circles? Kalian circles?”

  “Oh, Fury no. I’m not suicidal. Lorian.”

  “There are Lorian circles?”

  Chaneela frowned. “I thought you were a Daughter. They don’t teach you about Lorian circles?”

  Nia shook her head.

  “Huh. Well, dear, we’ll need to be expanding your education. Will she be with you long, General?”

  “That, ma’am, is a question I don’t yet know the answer to.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Because I don’t know if I’ll be around long myself, this doesn’t work.”

  “Well,” Maris said, returning, “you’re in luck. Just so happens I’m holding a few things for a friend right now.”

  “A friend?” Nia asked.

  “A dear one. Myself. Now look here.” Maris set the box on an end table and opened it up. “Will these do?”

  “Sweet stars in the sky!” cried Nia. “Yes, that will do fine! How many is that?”

  “Fifty of each, as you asked. A few could use a polish, but you’ll find they are of exquisite quality.”

  Nia moved to touch one, a thumb-sized, intricately cut yellow sapphire. Maris slapped at her hand.

  “When do I get these back?” she asked.

  “Well, either a few days, or never.”

  “Which is more likely?”

  Nia shrugged. “I can tell you, though, that we might just save Mor with them.”

  “You might.”

  The general interjected. “Or we might all be dead in a few days, you included. It’s all gone pear-shaped, ladies. It’s this or we all run north, fast as horses can take us, and throw ourselves on the mercy of the elves.”

  “Which isn’t a terrible idea, really,” said Nia.

  Maris and Kalindra exchanged another look.

  “Fine. Take them. Don’t muck it up.”

  “I’ll take them,” said Chaneela.

  “Chaneela,” said Lane. “It would be good to have your magic here protecting the girls—”

  “Girls? Shut up, Lane,” said Kalindra. “I could gut you faster than Slater.”

  “That true?” Slater asked Lane, smiling.

  Lane shrugged. “Probably.”

  “Then, my lethal friends, I shall endeavor to return these to you forthwith.” Slater bowed dramatically. “Now can we get on with it? No offense, but this ain’t a social call.”

  ~

  “All right you crazy bastards,” Slater shouted to the men and women assembled in the square. “I need some volunteers. A thousand at least. All of you, if you’ve got the nerve. Do I have any soldiers with nerve in my army?”

  Two thousand cheering soldiers answered with exuberance.

  “Good! You’re gonna need it. So what’s gonna happen here is that these two fine ladies here are going to do some creepy nasty magic, and you’re all gonna stand there and feed her a bit of yourselves so she can pull it off. She might die, she says, but you probably won’t. Gonna be puking on your boots for a few hours, though. This works, we’ll have a damned good chance of taking the Temple. We don’t do it, well, I’m sorry to say it, but there’s a better chance this next battle will be our last. That’s the whole truth of it. Any soldier who wants to back out, you just slide out of formation and won’t anyone ever say anything to you about it, or I’ll personally kick their arses up and down this square. But if you stay, you’ll be giving your families half a chance to make it through winter. Questions?”

  A chorus of mumbles came in reply as soldiers turned to one another, some expressing more than a little fear, others disbelief. Slater let them mumble. After a turn passed, a soldier raised a hand in the middle of the formation.

  “All right, quiet down!” ordered Slater. “That you, corporal Bricks?”

  “Yes, Sir. Just one question, Sir.”

  “Well, out with it then.”

  “Do I have to puke on my own boots? I’d rather puke on my Sarge’s. She’s been a real pain in the arse all day.”

  A female hand came from behind and cuffed the corporal. The battalion fell into laughter.

  “You go ahead and puke wherever you like, Bricks,” said the general. “So long as it’s not on my boots. Any more questions?”

  No one spoke or raised a hand.

  “All right. Volunteers, one step forward. Those who wish to bow out—”

  Two thousand soldiers took a step forward—some nudged from behind—but none left formation.

  Slater turned to Nia and Chaneela. “Don’t muck this up.”

  “We won’t, General,” said Nia. “You might want to go inside—”

  “Cast your spell, Nia of the sea. I’ll be right here with my battalion. Boots needed a polish anyways.”

  XXXI: THE TEMPLE OF KAL

  FOUR REMAINED, AS the Mother had expected. She glanced at the two dead Daughters.

  “Hmm. Glena and Zara,” she said. “I might have guessed. Gifted, but never quite ruthless enough.” The Mother glanced at the two bone earrings on the table and turned to face a weary, bloodied Jaila. “It is done?”