Loren weaved his way through the treetops, moving past the wagon. There were two ghouls operating the machine, one driving while the other acted as security. The second ghoul was armed with a weapon that resembled a blunderbuss.
Loren moved ahead of them, searching for the perfect place to ambush the wagon. He found what he was looking for in a ravine between two hills. The road led down into a depression, where it crossed a narrow stream before climbing the other side. Loren hurried up a tall oak tree at the top of the slope, looking down into the ravine. With the swiftness and agility of a cat, he flew along the branches to a limb that stretched way out over the road. He dropped into a crouch, smoothly drawing two arrows from the quiver on his back. The first, he put to the string, ready to fire. The second he pinched between his fingers, ready to slide into place in a fraction of a second.
The Tal’mar didn’t have to wait long. A minute later, he heard the crashing sounds of the steamwagon lurching over the rocky ground and the shrill screech of the brakes as it continued its descent. The steam engine chugged along, the percussive drumming rising in tempo as the driver slid the gearbox into a lower gear.
Loren waited, eyes fixed on the enemy. He didn’t move or breathe. He didn’t even blink. His senses took on a heightened state of awareness that came naturally and instinctively after his many years of practice and meditation. He became aware of the woods around him, of the squirrels and birds in the branches nearby, of the quiet pitter-patter of tiny creatures moving across the forest floor. The land seemed to breathe with him, not with an inhalation followed by an exhalation, but with one continuous breath that rose and fell unobserved like an autumn breeze.
The steamwagon made horrible grinding noises as the driver worked the brakes. The wheels bounced and rumbled down the slope. They broke a stone loose that rolled past the wagon and landed in the stream below with a crash. Loren observed all of this, but thought nothing of it. His single-minded focus remained entirely on his target. He looked down the arrow without seeing it. The projectile wasn’t a tool or a weapon, it was an extension of his body. It was another limb, reaching out from his center, spanning the distance from here to there, flying across the distance to penetrate the ghoul’s naked eye and embed with a thud into the creature’s skull.
The driver’s head snapped back. The arrow pointed skyward. The bowstring sang. The entire act was almost instantaneous. There was a flash of movement, and Loren’s next arrow struck the second ghoul in the temple. The creature dropped his blunderbuss and tumbled over the edge of the wagon, which was already gaining speed.
Loren lowered his bow and watched the wagon bounce as it careened down the hill. A stone protruding from the ground struck one of the front wheels, jarring the steering. The wheels spun, turning the wagon sideways. The momentum propelled it forward, flipping the wagon in the middle of the road. The barrels flew out, crashing into pieces as the steamwagon tumbled along behind them.
The sound of splitting wood and grinding metal filled the air. Starfall spilled out onto the ground, sparkling in the shadowy depression of the ravine. A grim smile came to the Tal’mar’s face. The ghouls would have their work cut out trying to clear the road. It would cost them a day at least, possibly several. He turned back toward the tree and heard a loud crack!
A bullet whizzed by his head, shattering the branch next to him. Loren spun. There, at the top of the hill sat a second steamwagon. It had only been a minute behind the first, and the noise of the crash had concealed its arrival. The ghoul in the passenger seat was on his feet, rifle at his shoulder, already lining up the sights for a second shot. Loren dove to the ground.
It was a thirty-foot drop from the branch to the slope below, but the Tal’mar leapt without hesitation. He somersaulted through the air, flipping once, twice, and then the ground rose up to meet him. Loren touched down, the soles of his boots just grazing the earth as he went into a roll. Rising out of the somersault, he sprung up into the branches of the next tree, using the momentum of his fall to hurl him back into the air. His feet touched down and he was off in a flash.
Loren sprinted through the trees, leaping, diving, swinging and somersaulting through the air. He moved with a speed unmatched by any other creature -in the trees, or on the land. The woods themselves seemed to stretch out, offering up their branches to assist him on his path. A wild sense of exhilaration overcame him, and for a time, he just ran.
He hadn’t felt like this in a long time. Loren’s travels in the Iron Horse had weakened his abilities; had drawn the energy out of him and left him more human than Tal’mar. He had almost forgotten how it felt, to be at one with the wilds. It all came back to him now in an instant, filling him with confidence and energy, propelling him forward.
Loren’s thoughts went to his companions. He would catch up to them shortly, and they could move on now, knowing that the ghouls had been stopped, or least, slowed... But he hesitated.
Loren broke out of his trance. He dropped onto a broad limb and stood there, sucking in deep breaths. The moment he thought of the others, Loren realized he had made a mistake. Kynan and Tasha were Tal’mar: they could travel through the branches with ease, but what about the humans? They were slow, lumbering, noisy. They were tired from an already too-long journey, and they needed food and rest. And now that the ghouls’ secret had been discovered, they wouldn’t be long behind him. It wasn’t that Loren would lead the ghouls to the humans -no one could follow his trail, not even a cougar would know which way he had gone- but with all their noise and laziness, the humans would give themselves up soon enough.
Loren cursed himself. He hadn’t even considered this when he’d acted against the ghouls. He had been overconfident, thinking that he could easily ambush them and then vanish without a trace. Even if his plan had succeeded perfectly, the ghouls still would have known that they weren’t alone. He had given up his advantage. Now, if he didn’t do something fast, it would only be a matter of hours before the ghouls found his friends.
With a snarl, he turned and headed back to the camp.
By the time he arrived, Loren found the ghouls already organizing search parties. It might not have happened so fast if he had bothered to kill the other steamwagon drivers. That was one more mistake to add to the rapidly growing list. All he could do now was try to make it right. He had spent some time considering it, and it seemed that the best way to take the ghouls’ minds off his companions was to give them something else to think about. He had to keep them busy.
Two groups of ghouls had split off from the camp to search the woods, one heading east and the other north. The ones moving north concerned him. It wouldn’t be hard to find the trail left by his human companions. Regardless of how stupid the ghouls were, they were already headed in the right direction. Even without tracking skills, they would eventually stumble onto the trail, and it was possible that some of those scouts did have skills.
Loren circled the camp, moving into the woods off to the west. This area seemed to be the least protected, and offered the closest cover to the building. He was looking for a way to access the refinery and sabotage the equipment. It quickly became evident that this simply wasn’t possible. Too many ghouls remained in the camp -too many coming and going in the area- so he had to find a way to distract them. It had to be spectacular enough to bring the other scouts back to the camp. They had to believe they were under attack.
This gave him an idea. Loren scampered back into the branches. A short distance from the camp, he dropped to the forest floor and began searching for good dry tinder. Despite the cool weather, this proved quite easy. The dry southern mountains were covered in pines, and the forest floor was inches deep with crisp, dry needles. Loren gathered a handful of these and then located a tree nearby that had been oozing pitch. To protect himself from the sticky material, he coated his hands in soil before working with the soft pitch.
Loren worked the materials into a thick mixture. Once he was satisfied with the consistency, the Tal’mar warr
ior split the mix into four round balls. He attached one to the end of each of four arrows. Thus prepared, he returned to his hiding place next to the camp. There, he waited for an opportunity.
A short time passed as he watched several ghouls working together to load a barrel of starfall onto a wagon. The wagon was parked alongside the building, and the moment they disappeared around the corner, he knelt down to strike his flint with the edge of his knife. The first arrow sparked to life.
Loren cautiously placed the arrow on the branch next to him and used it to light the others. Then, one by one, he shot the arrows into the camp. The first hit a tent at the far side of the camp. The second struck a steamwagon nearby. The next two shots went onto the roof of the refinery.
Only a few seconds passed before the ghouls noticed the fires in their camp. A cry went up, and they raced over to the area. By then, the furnishings inside the canvas tent had begun to burn. Their efforts to smother the flames proved rather difficult, especially since the ghouls had no water on hand. He watched with a grim smile as the ghouls ran back and forth, swatting at the flames with blankets and throwing shovelfuls of dirt at the fires. The steamwagon, being made almost entirely of wood, quite rapidly became a bonfire.
Meanwhile, the dry roof of the refinery was rapidly growing into a blaze. Being distracted by the fire in their camp, the ghouls didn’t notice this at first. By the time they realized what was happening, it was too late. The flames had become an inferno, licking into the sky, smoke billowing up in black clouds. Heat from the flames radiated all the way over to Loren’s hiding place in the woods.
The ghouls were in a genuine panic now, arguing and shouting at each other. Two came racing up from the lake with buckets of water. Throwing this starfall-impregnated water on the fire only resulted in a loud whoosh! as the flames engulfed the liquid.
Loren watched with a mystified smile as the ghouls argued and began fighting amongst themselves. Then one shouted something, and they all broke into a run. It took a moment for him to decipher the meaning of this behavior. He realized they must have fled because of the starfall stored inside the refinery. The ghouls expected it to explode. Realizing they were probably right, Loren turned away to get to a safe distance. The moment he moved, the building exploded.
A wave of noise and hot air washed over him. The branches shook, the leaves rustling, and the treetops began to sway. A roaring ball of greenish fire rolled into the heavens. Loren watched all of this with a look of awe. He had known the starfall would burn, but he hadn’t expected a release of such explosive energy.
It occurred to him that setting a fire next to such a large body of starfall-imbued water might not have been a good idea.
Almost instantaneously, he heard a shriek. He followed the noise to a ghoul nearby. Strangely, the creature was running towards the building. Loren frowned as he drew his gaze forward. There, just beyond the building, he saw the steamwagon rolling down the hill and toward the lake. His heart caught in his throat as he realized it was on fire.
Several more ghouls joined in the chase. They tried to grab onto the wagon’s handrails, but the red-hot metal burned their hands and the flames leapt onto their clothing. One managed to lasso the boiler with a rope, but the weight of the wagon simply pulled him down with it. Two more piled on, and they all went sliding down the slope.
Twenty feet from the lake, the barrel of starfall erupted. The explosion was massive, sending a fireball into the sky and simultaneously digging a crater ten feet deep. Hundreds of pieces of burning shrapnel rained down from the sky. Loren watched breathlessly, helpless to do anything as the burning wood touched the surface of the lake. All the ghouls nearby stopped to watch. A second passed, and then another...
A blue-green wave of flame spread out, moving along the surface like a wave. A great sucking sound accompanied the fire, and the air rushed in like a wind. Loren held on to the trunk next to him as the trees shook. He heard a great groaning sound that was unlike anything he had ever heard before. The earth itself seemed to moan in anticipation. Then came the blast.
The ground shook as the eruption engulfed the south side of the mountain. It swallowed Loren, the ghouls, the camp, and half the mountain in an instant.
Chapter 26
“I can’t believe they wouldn’t let us fight,” Breeze grumbled. She sat alongside Tinker on the bench of an old steamwagon, parked on a bluff overlooking the battlefield. It was morning in the southwestern Badlands, where the land was dry and the air was cool and crisp. To Breeze, it felt more like spring or autumn than midwinter.
“You’re an important person now,” Tinker said. “You’re a judge, and I’m an old man. Fighting is a soldier’s job.”
“But I can fly!”
“They did let us fly several scouting missions.”
“It’s insulting,” Breeze said, folding her arms across her chest. “Without us, they never would have had any planes. Or steam engines, or powder charges. They’d still be throwing rocks at each other.”
“When you put it like that, it’s a wonder they haven’t hung us.”
Breeze gave him a cockeyed look. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
Tinker shifted, and his mechanical arm made a loud tick-tick-ticking sound. In the distance, thousands of ghouls stood in a line along the crest of a hill. War machines appeared here and there, the rattle of their steam engines echoing across the valley. Two large black airships hovered in the background, blotting out much of the sky. The miles of land in between were barren and flat.
“As much as I’d like to take credit,” Tinker went on, “we didn’t really invent those things. We may have rediscovered a few things, but they were always there. Steam engines were around when I was a child. I learned about electricity from books, and from that generator in my cottage. I had even seen drawings of planes and gliders, though I didn’t understand what they were at the time. I was very young. Looking back now, it’s clear that others were rediscovering those same technologies all across the world. Even the Vangars.”
“Don’t remind me,” Breeze said with a sigh.
“My point is that it would have happened with or without us. We just moved things along. We were in the right place at the right time, that’s all.”
The sound of shouting voices resonated out from the tent behind Breeze and Tinker. It served as a temporary command post for the armies of Astatia and Sanctuary. The words shouted within were muffled and incomprehensible.
“What are they arguing about now?” Tinker said.
Breeze rolled her eyes. “What to have for lunch, probably. I’ve never seen a more incompetent bunch of buffoons.”
“You met with them earlier, didn’t you?”
“You could say that. It’s not much of a meeting when no one shows up.”
Tinker raised his eyebrow. “No one?”
“Astatia has thirty senators now. Do you know how many showed up? Four. Four, Tinker! They don’t even care what happens to their own people. They’re probably at home packing to leave the country. And the judges... Five out of more than two hundred. That’s how many bothered to show.”
“You’re too hard on them. They got into politics to make the country run better, not to die fighting for it.”
“If you’re not willing to fight for it, then you don’t deserve it,” she shot him a glare.
“You’ve changed,” Tinker said. “What happened to the hopeful, determined little girl I used to know?”
“Life, I suppose. Being a judge isn’t easy. You see how people think; the things they choose to make important and the things they choose to overlook. It’s disheartening. Sometimes I think they’d be just as happy being slaves again, with the Vangars ruling over them.”
Tinker drew his gaze back to the opposing army and sighed. “They just keep coming. If you ask me, we should attack before they all get here. Waiting just increases their odds of overwhelming our forces.”
“That’s what I tried to tell our brilliant senators,” Br
eeze said with a distasteful curl of her lip. “They insist on waiting for the Tal’mar archers.”
“Where are they?”
“The train broke down.”
Tinker gave out a loud snort. “Imagine that. The entire battle could be decided -millions of lives changed forever- for the want of a decent steam engine. That’s what comes from retirement!” He turned to look at her. “Is Tam coming?”
She gave a slight nod of her head. “Tam and Crow both, though the fighting may be done by the time they get here. Part of me hopes they don’t make it. I’d rather they were safe, back in Sanctuary.”
“And River? Have you heard anything from her?”
“Not in months. She still doesn’t know you’re alive.”
Tinker lifted his mechanically enhanced arm to display his bronze and iron fingers. They opened and closed with soft clicking noises. “Functioning might be a better word than alive,” he gave her a cynical smile. “I’m as much machine as human now.”
“Don’t be silly. You’re Tinker, the same as always. It’s who you are on the inside that matters. You’re the one who taught me that.”
There was an uproar in the ranks at the front of the line. A general rode in on horseback, and Breeze shook her head as she watched the ensuing scuffle. “The Vangars are getting restless. It was insane to recruit them. They’re as likely to turn on us as they are to fight the Legion.”
“The longer we wait, the more likely that is to happen,” Tinker said. He was about to say more, but a loud brassy horn rang out on the other side of the valley. It was followed by a second, louder one, and the ghouls started to march. Tinker took a deep breath.
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