by Frank Morin
“I appreciate your apology, Shona. I really do, and I think now maybe we can start over.”
He hadn’t actually released chert, so easily picked up the next thought, which she wasn’t even trying to shield. “I’ll prove myself to you Connor. Somehow. And this doesn’t mean I won’t kill that vixen wench Builder if I ever get the chance to do it in a way that you won’t know it was me.”
Yup. Shona was still Shona.
A strange, scratchy sort of voice spoke out of the shadows to their right, interrupting his response. Connor and Shona both turned as a huge figure of a man approached from up the street. He was a burly fellow, wearing a heavy overcoat, but no hat. He looked Obrioner, and he spoke in their native tongue with a slight accent that Connor recognized as from Lord Feichin’s realm.
“Lady Shona, I bring word from her Majesty, Queen Dreokt.”
He stopped about a dozen feet away, but Connor recognized him. He was the big, shadowy figure Connor had noticed lurking around. He instantly tapped granite and porphyry together. He’d adopted the idea of sticky armor plating and had added similar sticky surfaces to the inside edges of his front pockets. It made for instant, easy access to his affinities.
The porphyry beast awoke in his heart and flexed its muscles, and his lifelong curse of granite rolled through him with the itchy crawly feeling he knew so well. He also popped a tiny piece of marble into his mouth and reached for the wildness of fire. Whoever the stranger was, they would regret interrupting.
Beside him, Shona settled into a battle stance, her skin fading to gray and her body shifting into the perfect lines of sculpted stone.
The messenger said nothing, but flung open his huge overcoat. A creature of nightmare that had been wrapped around his torso flung itself across the distance toward Shona, spitting a huge gout of fire.
15
Bad Hair Days Never Get Old
Connor lunged to intercept the strange creature, but it reached Shona with the speed of a fracked Strider. Its body was strangely square, with only two long arms extending out the front, capped with grasping, clawed hands. As it flew toward Shona, its thin torso inflated like a Sogail bladder balloon.
Flames were already pouring out its enormous mouth, which looked far too big for its face. Strangely, it didn’t seem to have teeth, but was covered with weird suckers, like the ones that lined that octopus Connor had seen in Althing.
Shona shrieked and lifted her left hand to shield her face from the flames. The creature slammed into her so hard she stumbled and almost fell.
Its fiery breath washed over Shona. Even though she was tapping granite, the flames still melted her hair away. If she hadn’t closed her eyes, no doubt that intense heat would have boiled them in their sockets. Connor winced to see the damage. He’d burned off her hair more than once and knew from painful experience to leave a girl’s hair alone.
He tapped marble and snatched the flames away, intending to wrap them around the creature and incinerate it. The creature’s strange mouth suddenly made sense as it tried to suction around Shona’s face, its clawed arms dragging at her hand to complete the seal. Then it could fire-vomit its burning breath right down her throat when she opened her mouth to scream.
That was both disgusting and inspiring.
The huge messenger erupted into the blinding light of a Solas and he charged at Connor. His body shifted into ponderous lines as he tapped granite too. Worse, water erupted out of his pockets, snaked out, and yanked Shona’s feet out from under her.
She struck the ground hard, vainly trying to pry the disgusting creature off her face. The creature had to be summoned, but it was unlike anything Connor had seen. Flames were spraying out the gaps where Shona’s hand broke its seal, so it was still spitting flames against her face. If Connor hadn’t been draining away the heat, it would have boiled her insides when she tried to breathe.
Connor whipped the fires that he stole from the summoned creature back against the messenger’s face. That fiery whip cracked against his cheek, sending him stumbling. Normal fires couldn’t project that kind of physical force. The fact that it could when Connor wielded it was one of those amazing effects he still couldn’t explain, but he was grateful for. Connor also tapped soapstone, yanked the water away from Shona’s feet, and shoved it up into the creature’s mouth to drown it.
All he managed to do was nearly drown Shona. Since the monster’s fire lacked heat, it didn’t boil the water to steam, but the water didn’t seem to slow it down. Annoying.
Connor also tapped serpentinite and cast a warning thundering across New Schwinkendorf. “Alarm! Alarm! We’re under attack from the queen.”
Help would come fast, but Connor had to deal with this threat before Shona was seriously hurt.
The messenger recovered remarkably fast and again charged Connor, arms thrown out wide as if he planned to carry him off his feet. More water erupted in front of him like a dozen grasping tendrils.
That kind of fight was exactly what Connor excelled at. If only he had a little diorite. He’d eaten enough that explosive vomiting into the man’s face would’ve been exceptionally powerful.
He didn’t have any, so he tapped limestone and yanked all that light that the man was emitting and gave it a savage twist, forming a mirage. Queen Dreokt appeared beside Connor, her fiery gaze scowling at the messenger.
She snarled, “You fool. That’s the wrong Shona.”
The voice was the crowning part of the mirage, accomplished with serpentinite. It made the mirage seem so real that Connor almost believed it himself. The messenger never hesitated, though.
Tallan take it. Had the queen warned him against mirage? That seemed terribly unsportsmanlike.
The man crashed into Connor, leading with a flood of water. Connor slid back a foot under the onslaught until he split the waters with his own soapstone affinity. Slipping through the gap, Connor curse-punched the man on the tip of the chin. Hard.
Connor could draw far more power from granite than anyone who hadn’t ascended through two thresholds. The man had an unusually powerful affinity to granite, but that was not enough. His jaw shattered, and the blow catapulted him off his feet. He crashed to the ground, arms thrown wide, eyes crossed, unmoving.
Connor hoped he hadn’t killed the man. They needed to interrogate him, but he didn’t have time to check. He seized the summoned creature that was rolling around on the ground with Shona. It was still single-mindedly vomiting fire into her face.
Shona did not seem to realize that Connor was sucking away the heat. She was beating at the creature with a stone hardened fist, but lacked the leverage to do much damage. Its weird, square body absorbed blows like it had no bones, but was simply a leather bag filled with fire.
Connor tapped soapstone, wrapped the thing with water, and yanked it with a mighty heave.
He forgot it was connected to Shona’s face with about a hundred suckers.
It came free, but also launched Shona into the air so hard she soared up and into the darkness. If she hadn’t been max-tapping granite, that brutal wrenching of her head and neck would have snapped her spine.
She got great distance and looked like she was on track to clear the top of the school administration building. Connor interrupted the impressive flight, throwing out tendrils of water to catch her. She had suffered enough with losing her hair, he didn’t want her crashing through a building and destroying it in a fit of rage.
The monster twisted like a snake in Connor’s grasping waters until its weird face pointed in his direction. And then it exploded.
Connor was already tapping both soapstone and marble, so he caught the flames and deflected them around himself without damage. He was not prepared for the blast of wind that shrieked around him in the creature’s death blast. It sounded like the queen.
“No one betrays me or spurns my gifts! Shona, you will suffer tortures beyond your comprehension, and serve as a grim warning to the entire continent. Consider this your last chance to kil
l yourself. There is no other way to escape my justice.”
Connor settled Shona gently to the ground. She was gasping, wide-eyed and badly rattled.
She gasped, “What was that thing?”
That’s when Hamish and Kilian arrived with a rush of thrusters and a blast of fire. Growing shouts from the dining hall suggested that the entire community of New Schwinkendorf was turning out to respond to Connor’s warning.
They had run regular drills to practice responding to surprise attacks and everyone knew what to do. Within seconds, New Schwinkendorf would transform into a deadly hive of Builder mechanicals, Arishat League weapons, and Petralists ready to fight to the death.
Kilian demanded, “Where’s the danger?”
Hamish added, “Her explosion voice was amazing.”
He was right. Connor knew how to create autonomous summonings, but had not yet tried to embed within them additional elements that might include secondary abilities, or a death wail message like that one. It was inspiring, but something to study later.
He held up his hands in a calming gesture. “I don’t know if there are any more.” He gestured at the fallen messenger. “This fellow approached us and attacked with that weird summoned creature. He said he was from the queen, so I assumed there might be more of them.”
“There might be. Don’t take any chances. Hamish, mobilize everyone,” Kilian ordered, his expression grim, his customary laid-back manner gone.
Kilian erupted off the ground in a blast of white-hot flames, soaring across the city. He moved with predatory purpose and looked ready to leap into a death battle with his insane mother at the drop of a sweetbread. Connor was still tapping both soapstone and marble, so he felt Kilian’s influence pulsing across the town, seeking additional threats.
The others arrived a moment later, followed by scores of Petralists and Builders, including Nicklaus, who had somehow acquired a full-sized speedsling on a floating platform that he was riding down the street.
The drum full of deadly hornets was already spinning, and he was pointing the weapon everywhere, obviously eager for a chance to unleash a rain of destruction. Luckily Hamish soared over to join him on the platform. By the look of disappointment on Nicklaus’ face, Hamish was telling him the danger was past. He did disengage the speedsling, though.
A crowd gathered and as Connor again explained what had happened and relayed Kilian’s orders, Verena reached him. She glanced at Shona and her eyes widened. She concealed her glee well, but Connor caught a flash of it before she changed her expression to one of concern.
“Shona, are you all right? What happened to your hair?”
16
Pearls Appear in Oysters Lingering Long under the Seas, but Sunlight Reveals Truths Smothered by the Blanket of Night
Late that night, Connor and his close friends met in one of five command rooms in New Schwinkendorf. Other rooms were spread around the city so they could always reach one within moments if they were attacked.
The careful city planning had included far more than well-ordered streets and buildings. It also included many layers of defense. Connor bet any invaders would face far more trouble taking New Schwinkendorf than any other city in Granadure, including Edderitz.
This particular command room was the primary one. It was slightly larger than the others, situated three stories below ground, under the central hall where they had feasted earlier. The room was built like a half dome, and the entire expanse of sloping walls and roof were covered in a gridlike pattern of narrow, steel supports that held dozens of sightstones.
The walls were painted a soft white, which served as the backdrop for the views the many sightstones projected. Three Builders and a dozen assistants worked controls in one corner, managing which of the hundreds of sightstones spread around the city to activate.
The wondrous breakthrough rivaled any of the deeper affinities that Connor could tap. Speakstones had already revolutionized communication, but sightstones promised to revolutionize that revolution. The sloping walls were covered with views projected from paired stones worked into buildings and lamp posts all across the city, the valley, the Arishat enclave, and even into Faulenrost.
The higher grid blocks of the ceiling included images of the sky in every direction. They all showed clear, dark night, broken by brilliant stars and the rising moon, but no airborne threats.
The entire city had mobilized with remarkable swiftness and still remained at a heightened state of alert, even though no additional threats had materialized. It didn’t make sense to Connor that the queen would send only a single messenger. Verena had suggested maybe Dreokt was hoping they’d relax, get careless, and lower their guard.
Chances of that were less than Hamish voluntarily abstaining from the next feast.
Verena and Hamish were speaking with the Builders running the sightstone displays, discussing all the views they wanted projected. They were also coordinating speakstone updates from outposts scattered around the valley and farther out into Granadure. They were even in contact with Altkalen to the north and a small outpost at the Badurach Pass border crossing to the south. So far no one had reported any hostilities.
Shona sat in a plush chair near the center of the room, wearing a woolen cap over her charred head, looking shocked. Jean had just arrived with Lord Eberhard after conferring with their Arishat contacts about mutual defense should an attack prove imminent. Connor had no idea where Kilian and Evander had gone. Aifric had said something about finding the queen’s spies and left in a hurry.
Ivor entered the room and spread his hands in a helpless gesture when they all looked to him. “The messenger is dead.”
Shona scowled. “Did you get anything useful out of him?”
Ivor shook his head, and Shona turned her scowl on Connor. “You didn’t have to hit him so hard. I should’ve interrogated him immediately myself.”
Connor was going to protest that he only hit the man so hard because he was trying to save her life, but Ivor interjected. “Don’t blame Connor. The fellow seemed to be stabilizing, but couldn’t have spoken with that shattered jaw. Before the Healers completed repairs enough to start questioning, his mind simply went dark.”
Connor shivered. “The queen can do things like that.”
Ivor nodded. “That’s what I figure. She could’ve embedded commands in his mind to kill him once he realized he had failed.”
Shona leaned back in the chair, looking like she intended to pout anyway. She had a lot to think about. Sure, they were all risking their lives, but with that messenger the queen had singled out Shona for specific and exceptional revenge. Shona had risked all in joining the rebellion, but if she hadn’t switched sides, she might have died in the fighting or been captured anyway. She definitely would have lost control of Merkland and probably her entire realm. Her bold move had trumped those immediate consequences but set her up to face potentially far worse in the long run.
If they failed, the best they could hope for was to die in battle. Connor hated to think of getting captured, or standing helpless before the queen again, feeling her will brush aside his resistance. Would she destroy him or wipe his mind and rebuild him into a mindless slave? He shivered from a chill sense of horror creeping down his spine.
Getting singled out for prolonged torture had to be disturbing. Shona was used to enjoying a protected status as a high lady.
Verena turned from the controls and said, “We’re bringing Merkland online right now. We want to make sure the queen did not launch any coordinated attacks against them tonight too.”
She gestured toward the central screen, which was several times larger than any of the others. The sightstone activated and an image appeared on the wall. It showed General Rory’s spacious office in the central tower of the Merkland palace. He was dressed in battle leathers, as usual, and of course Anika stood close by his side.
The two looked happy and not too battered from their unique and enthusiastic courtship. Ever since Anika accep
ted his proposal, the two were inseparable. And repair bills around Merkland had escalated.
Erich, Anika’s hulking brother, stood a little to one side with Tomas and Cameron, the captains of the Fast Rollers. The three had been relentless enemies in the initial skirmishes between Obrion and Granadure. Since Merkland had revolted and the Fast Rollers had begun working together with the Crushers, the three had adopted a joint command structure. Connor figured that was just because it gave them more opportunities to bash fight one another.
As soon as the view sharpened, Rory smiled and Anika waved happily. Despite the gravity of the situation, Verena could not help but ask, “How are plans going for the wedding?”
Anika’s smile widened until she looked far too much like a blushing bride-to-be and far too little like her normal, deadly warrior maiden self. That change in her always seemed wrong to Connor. Anika was first and foremost a battle maiden, and that’s what Rory loved about her. For his part, Rory had started grinning a lot too, an expression that still seemed foreign on his craggy features.
Connor was super happy for them. He had never expected their unusual romance to produce anything but heartbreak. Their impending marriage had instead become an inspiration for the entire revolution.
Rory said, “Anika can talk about wedding plans all night, but I doubt that’s why you called.”
Hamish said, “Have you suffered any new attacks?”
Rory shook his head. “Nothing of late, not since the last three summoned creatures attacked two weeks ago. Anton discovered and destroyed them before they could do any damage. He’s proving as effective a defensive barrier as you ever did, Ivor. Plus he’s been working on gradually quelling the lingering instability under the earth in this area.”
Ivor grinned. “I’m glad he’s taking care of you so well. Don’t worry, I’ll be returning to Merkland shortly with Lady Shona.”
That roused Shona. She stood and joined the rest of them closer to the viewing screen. If they noticed her hat or suspected the reasons for it, they were wise enough not to mention it.
