by Ben Hale
Elenyr, now in full command of her faculties, seemed to understand. Closing her eyes, she gathered herself—and the green light began to coalesce. It brightened as it merged, and Devkin raised a hand when it became blinding.
A blast of energy and light sent Alydian into the mud, ending the link she’d used to retrieve her mother. Alydian scrambled to her feet, hoping to catch Elenyr before she descended back into the stone. But her mother fell into the water, splashing both of them as she landed on her knees.
Elenyr’s body was still made of green light, but it had regained a measure of solidity. Elenyr reached down and lifted the water, allowing it to pour through her fingers, marveling at the feel of the liquid.
Abruptly a shout came from above as soldiers converged on the hole, drawn to the burst of green light. Elenyr knelt before Alydian and embraced her, the contact exactly as if she was still flesh and blood.
“Daughter,” Elenyr said, her green eyes piercing. “I’m sorry.”
Confused, Alydian shook her head. “You act as if you knew this would happen.”
Elenyr smiled. “I did.”
Alydian stared at her. “You did this to yourself?”
“Did you really think I’d be satisfied being helpless?” Elenyr smiled, her eyes flicked upward, to the sounds of approaching soldiers. “Answers will come in time, but I must go. They should not see me like this.”
“Why?” Alydian asked, trying to hold onto Elenyr as she slipped toward the pit wall.
Elenyr looked back and smiled, motioning up to the top of the hole. “They will fear what I have become. Tomorrow night, in your tent. I’ll come at midnight.”
Elenyr dived into the stone, taking the light with her. An instant later, soldiers appeared on the rim of the pit, calling for answers. Devkin stared at Alydian, his face a mask of confusion. Before he could ask what had occurred, Alydian shook her head and gave the answer.
“I doesn’t matter what she is,” she said, and then sank into the mud, not caring that she was now covered. “It only matters that she’s alive.”
Chapter 21: Friends and Foes
Raiden trudged through the night, rubbing his face to stay awake. Winter and her handful of Verinai had led them out of the city through the sewers and sealed the exit. Traveling south, they hastened through the night until they were certain there was no pursuit, pressing on until Marrow’s wolf finally perished.
The sentient slumped to the ground and the magic began to disintegrate. In tears, Marrow knelt beside the wolf and held its paw. Uncertain how to respond to the death of an unliving creature, Raiden patted Marrow on the shoulder. The girl brushed the fragments of magic on the ground and they merged together into a young sapling.
“He was my friend,” Marrow said.
“You can always make another,” Jester said with a yawn, and Red elbowed him in the gut.
“He was a good friend,” Red murmured.
Marrow sniffled and then conjured a straw mattress under the sapling, where she curled up. In seconds she was asleep. Raiden withdrew a blanket from the pack he’d retrieved outside Herosian and placed it upon her slumbering form.
“May we all fight as he did,” Raiden said softly, and then turned to the others. “Make camp. I’ll take the first watch with Winter.” Their eyes met and Raiden added. “I need to send a message to Alydian.”
Winter flashed a knowing smile, indicating she knew he wanted more than a message. He wanted the truth. The others wearily set up camp. Most forewent a meal and reclined on their bedrolls. In minutes the area fell quiet. Raiden and Winter sat at the edge of the camp, speaking in low tones. When the lightcast bird had been cast and sent, he leaned back against a rock.
“You have our gratitude for the escape,” Raiden said. “But I want answers.”
“I’m sure you do,” Winter said, and flashed a faint smile. “Who am I? What am I doing? Am I a spy?”
Raiden grinned. “And?”
“I’m a master of water, earth, plant, and animal magics,” she said. “Although raised and trained by the guild, I despise what it has become.”
“Why?”
“My father loved the guild,” she said, “and he hated my uncle. I got along better with my uncle.”
“And he was?”
“Elsin’s predecessor,” Winter said. “It was he who made the guild mighty, before Elsin subverted it.”
Raiden measured the hatred on the woman’s face, and accepted it as truth. Teriah could have manipulated the events of their escape in order to infiltrate their ranks, but Raiden was inclined to believe Winter. Still, it made him wonder, “Why didn’t you depart the guild?”
“It was my home,” she said with a shrug. “And if I’d left, who would remain to influence my people?”
“So others follow you?”
She gestured to the camp, where a handful of Verinai lay slumbering on their blankets. “I managed to identify those who felt as we did. We acted with caution, never letting Guildmaster Elsin learn of my designs. Early on I merely wished to change the guild’s purpose. Then it became clear the height of Elsin’s ambitions, and I knew the guild could not be redeemed.”
“You speak much like Toron,” Raiden said.
She smiled, a soft expression that touched her blue eyes. “At one time he was a staunch supporter of his wife. I even considered him a foe. But all that changed when Elsin turned their son into a guardian.”
“Toron said she did it to save him.”
“She did it to save herself,” Winter said. “She couldn’t bear the thought of a crippled child and wanted an heir. Make no mistake, her actions were born of a selfish soul.”
“Does Toron know how you feel about him?”
“He’s merely a . . . I do care for him but . . .” She frowned. “Blast you, is it that obvious?”
Raiden smiled at her consternation. “It’s always harder to hide a secret when fatigued. Does he know?”
“Of course not,” she snapped. “He is fighting his wife and seeks to free his son. You really think it’s the right time to profess my affection?” She began to rise.
He caught her arm. “I’m in love with Alydian.”
Winter rotated to face him, her irritation turning to surprise. “Does she know?”
“She does,” he said with a sigh, “but she is an oracle, and I am not a mage.”
Winter’s eyes lit with understanding. “And oracles are always joined to one with magic,” she said quietly.
“The bloodline must continue,” Raiden said. “Now more than ever.”
“It’s possible a daughter between you and Alydian would be an oracle.”
“And it’s possible she would be magicless,” he countered.
“You haven’t voiced your fears to Alydian?” she asked.
Her statement cut to the heart of his doubt, and he looked away. “She behaves as if she does not know—or perhaps does not want to admit it. The entire rebellion rests on Alydian’s shoulders. To speak now would merely add to her burden.”
“So you would tell her after the war?” she asked. “Crush her after victory?”
“Those with a broken heart do not survive long in a war,” he said, “for they lack the courage to fight.”
Winter released a long breath. “The Verinai have destroyed much. Don’t let your love for Alydian be a casualty of this war.”
“You would have me doom her bloodline?” he asked.
She shrugged and stood. “Perhaps you should let your beloved have a say in her future.”
Winter slipped into the night, leaving Raiden alone at the edge of camp. Despite his fatigue, he considered Winter’s words. He’d carried the weight of his doubt since he’d first fallen for Alydian, but feared voicing it aloud. Alydian could be watching through her farsight. With Winter he’d spoken on impulse, and once it was out he couldn’t stop.
As Runeguard he’d studied oracle history. One of the common tales was an oracle in Ciana’s ancestry that had loved a magicless
soldier. She’d defied oracle tradition and the council’s command by joining him in marriage. Their daughter had been an oracle, but the weakest in recorded history, with most Verinai displaying more control and power than she. The council did their best to hide the fact that one of their own was so weak, keeping the populace from knowing the truth.
He sighed and looked to the sky. Lit by stars, the grasslands stretched in all directions, the occasional tree dotting the open landscape. Without mountain or forest to break the view, he still felt trapped.
When weariness finally overpowered his gloom, he woke Jester and slept, rising with the others at dawn. They gathered their things and broke camp before turning southeast. As had become his habit, he kept his intentions vague.
Marrow had taken to Winter from the moment of their escape, and the two talked and giggled like little girls, drawing smiles from Verinai as well as Jester. Initially, Red kept her distance from Winter, clearly leery of the Verinai, but Marrow’s faith was contagious, and before long Red walked with them. Winter too, seemed guarded with Red, but over the course of their journey it became clear the women were rapidly becoming friends.
As they approached Crescent Moon Farm, Jester sidled up to Raiden. “Who would have thought,” he murmured, “the slayer, the Verinai, and the madwoman, as sisters.”
“War makes strange allies,” Raiden said, smiling as he watched Winter cast tiny gremlins from the grass, causing Marrow to laugh in delight and clap her hands.
“More, more!” she cried.
The entities quadrupled, with hundreds of tiny gremlins darting about. Red laughed as one of the cute creatures scaled her back and perched on her shoulder. Large flowers shaped the entity’s eyes and it peered down at Red, its lips of leaves opening to chew on Red’s ear.
Red picked the creature up and held it in her arms, tickling it and causing it to squirm. It wiggled free and skipped away, pausing just out of reach as if inviting Red to give chase. She feigned a mock growl and leapt after the gremlin, causing it to sprint away, clearly pleased.
All at once a shout rang out, the sound causing the gremlins to scatter into the grass. In a flash of steel Raiden drew his sword and Jester followed suit. Winter’s four Verinai cast entities from the air and light, and in seconds the group collapsed into a defensive formation.
Then men stood, rising from the grass on all sides. Armed with blades and spears, they wore makeshift armor and helmets. Raiden drew in his breath as more appeared, until hundreds of men and women were arrayed against them.
“How did we not see them?” Jester asked.
“She did,” Marrow said, holding the last gremlin in her hands. “But you already know them.”
“Raiden?” a voice called.
A man threaded through the soldiers and stepped into view. Raiden breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that it was John, owner of Crescent Moon Farm and a member of the Defiant. Then Raiden recognized other members of the Defiant and lowered his sword.
“John,” he said, sheathing his sword and striding to greet him. “It’s good to see you.”
“Aye,” the man replied.
The Defiant had already lowered their weapons and advanced to greet Raiden, Jester, and Red. Many had difficulty speaking, their eyes filled with emotion. Raiden had recruited all of them, but none had known he was the Soldier. Now all knew his name.
“Soldier,” one murmured, his voice tinged with awe and gratitude, a sentiment echoed by many others.
Jester and Red were equally swarmed, and all three greeted the Defiant like family. Overwhelmed by the outpouring of support, Raiden grasped their hands and smiled, greeting them each by name.
Then Raiden looked beyond the Defiant and noticed the other men and women keeping their distance. Sullen and muttering to each other, they cast suspicious looks at Winter and her group of Verinai.
“John,” Raiden said, stepping to the farmer. “Our companions aided in our escape from Herosian. They are true allies of our cause.”
“If they have your trust, they have mine,” John said airily, and raised his voice. “These Verinai have joined the Soldier. Kindly lead them to the farm where they can have respite from their journey.”
The Defiant joined Raiden and the Verinai, but the vast majority of the force continued to keep their distance. John engaged Raiden in conversation as they advanced towards his farm.
“The Empire began retreating from the smaller villages weeks ago,” he said. “We heard Alydian destroyed Dawnskeep and then tales of the battle at Skykeep. I figured the invasion was coming so I summoned the Defiant and began gathering support.”
“How many?” he asked.
He swept a hand at the army. “Five contingents like this one.”
“You gathered three thousand to fight the Empire?” Jester asked, joining them.
John laughed dryly. “Holly gathered three thousand.”
Jester burst into a laugh at the mention of the diminutive woman, and Raiden grinned. John’s wife was shorter than a dwarf, with the fight of a rock troll. As a mother of seven, she was already a captain of her house, but it appeared she’d now made the leap to general of an army.
They crossed a hill and the farm came into view. Nestled into a curve between two rocky hills, the farm was aptly named. Built by John’s grandfather, the large farmhouse and barn were solid and spacious. John had added a treehouse in a great oak, the fort shaped like a ship that delighted his children.
Normally empty, the farm was flooded with people. Hundreds of tents lined the front and back field, placed in neat lines that allowed for movement and vision. The house had been fortified in case of attack, as had the barn, with battlements added to the roof.
“All this in just a few weeks?” Red asked, joining them.
“Holly?” Jester asked.
John sighed. “Holly.”
They laughed together and descended to the camp, where they were greeted by more Defiant. The bulk of the army seemed keen on meeting the Soldier—until they noticed the Verinai. Many scowled and some spit on the ground. John barked an order and they reluctantly dispersed.
John led them inside the front door, and Raiden looked about in admiration. Gone were the furniture and decorations that had graced the beautiful home. In its place stood tables with maps and weapons, and former Griffin soldiers were grouped around a shorter figure at the head of the table.
With armor over her dress, Holly barked orders to the grizzled veterans, and they accepted them with a nod. Departing to carry out the commands, they paused to greet Raiden and his lieutenants before exiting the command center. A crying child came up and pulled on her knee, and she picked him up, comforting him while still issuing orders. In short order she’d organized the arrival of new troops, overcome challenges with the supplies, and calmed a young child. Then she turned to Raiden and glared.
“About time you got here,” Holly said.
Chapter 22: Holly’s Army
Jester laughed and strode forward. “It appears you’ve gained more children since our last visit.”
“Aye,” Holly said, her lips twitching with amusement. “They needed a commander but the Empire killed or imprisoned the officers that resisted, so they’re stuck with me.”
“They’re lucky to have you,” Red said, moving to embrace the woman. “It’s good to see you again.”
“Hello, dear,” she said, her features softening before she turned back to Raiden.
“So you were the Soldier all along.”
“Indeed,” he replied. “I’m sorry I had to lie to you.”
She gave a dismissive wave. “No way you couldn’t. Now where’s the invasion?”
“Alydian should reach Herosian in a week,” Jester said.
“The Empire is ready for her,” John said.
“We know,” Raiden said. “We scouted the city and attempted entry, but Teriah foresaw our arrival.”
“How did you escape?”
At the back of the group, Winter steppe
d into view. “It was I that helped them escape.”
Holly scowled and her eyes flicked to Raiden. “A Verinai? You should have killed her.”
“She and her companions risked their lives to help us,” Red said, her tone gaining an edge. “They are friends and allies.”
The tension rose until Marrow giggled. “Siblings always quarrel—especially Toron and I. You should see the scars she inflicted.”
“And who is this?” Holly asked.
“Marrow,” she said, darting to Holly and engulfing in her an embrace. “We’ve heard so much about you.” Abruptly shy, she retreated and bowed her head. “She’s never met a mother of your caliber.”
All but crushed by the hug, Holly held to her stern expression, but her eyes had softened. She took a step to the kitchen and shouted to one of her boys.
“Nine guests!” she called. “They’ll be wanting supper!”
“We have our own food . . .” Winter began.
Jester put up an arm to stop Winter from speaking. “We’d be happy to enjoy your legendary cooking.”
Catching the warning, Winter smiled. “As he says.”
The group entered the kitchen but Holly caught Raiden’s arm, holding him back. “Soldier,” she said, lowering her tone. “I suppose you’ve come to take possession of our army.”
“Nonsense,” Raiden said, and then smiled. “They called me Soldier, not General.”
Surprised and gratified by his response, Holly inclined her head and the two entered the spacious kitchen, which felt cramped with so many. As with every meal in the house, the food was exemplary, and Winter claimed that the whole of the guild could not surpass it. The two boys that’d helped Holly cook flushed all the way to their ears and stammered their gratitude.
After the meal Raiden and his companions were led to their own quarters at the top of the house, where Holly ordered her boys out to provide the Soldier and his lieutenants room. Winter and the Verinai were given the basement. Holly then led Raiden on a tour of the army.
