by Davis Ashura
The final two mahavans were cut down shortly after.
Jason scanned the area atop the hill. No more enemies, only blood and corpses littering the ground. The iron-sharp smell turned his stomach. He breathed through his mouth, trying to settle his nausea as he took stock of their situation.
They’d killed four mahavans and five unformed in the assault. He counted his warriors and cursed. Of the ten he’d led up this hill, only five remained and one was gravely injured.
Gravel crunched, and the remains of Tam’s group crested the height. Only Tam and one other remained.
Jason pondered his first command. By any measure the mission had been a success, but it was cold comfort, not with all the men and women who had died to achieve it.
“It’s the way of war,” Tam whispered, standing next to his elbow. His hard eyes softened. “You never get used to it, and you shouldn’t want to.”
Daniel still had trouble believing how much his life had changed. He’d grown up on Arylyn but went to the Far Beyond with his parents, all to test and maybe help a potential magus, William Wilde. Lien had gone with them, pretending to be a foreign exchange student, and they’d gone to high school together, all the way to their senior year. Kohl Obsidian had ended all that, and Daniel and his family had been forced back to Arylyn where he’d taken up his duties as a journeyman magus. Then had come the attacks on Sinskrill and rescuing William and Jake. Now, Daniel was a warrior, a lieutenant in Arylyn’s first army. He would command his first combat, and if he survived he’d become a husband to Lien, the girl he’d loved since she’d first arrived on Arylyn a dozen years ago.
He shook off his memories. Twenty-four Irregulars worked alongside him, and they hauled five cannons up a treacherous switchback on the north face of a rugged hill. On the map the climb had looked straightforward and gentle, but reality had bitten them in the ass. The ascension was a hard as hell, never-ending slog. The weather didn’t help, either. The Irregulars dripped sweat with no wind to keep them cool.
The only sounds to be heard were those of their crunching boots as the Irregulars slipped and slid on the loose shale and gravel. All to haul the stupid cannons up this God-forsaken hill. Even with five magi per cannon, all of them pulling on the ropes, attached to the weapons, the lug was still a bitch. It would have been a helluva a lot easier if they could have used their lorethasra but doing so might give away their positions to the mahavans who hunkered a hundred yards away.
Daniel cursed profanely, scatologically, and sacrilegiously, any one of which would have earned him a scolding from his mom or Lien.
Thinking of them, he prayed again for their safety. Word had it that the Servitor’s ships had arrived in the morning and were pounding Lilith with cannon shot. How the hell did the mahavans figure out how to build cannons anyway?
Worse, the Sinskrill fleet had some kind of shield, like what Rukh and Jessira could create, that deflected Lilith’s own cannon fire. The ships drifted in the bay, inviolate as they lobbed attack after attack, serene since the village’s defenders couldn’t do anything to stop them. Some of the terraces had already been leveled.
Now the unformed were heading toward Lilith. Daniel didn’t want to think about what would happen if the shapeshifting bastards found a way to attack the village while the fifty defenders stationed there were distracted by all the destruction going on around them.
He did his best to set aside his worries. He had a battle of his own to fight. He only hoped he’d have a chance to pay the mahavans back for all that they’d done. A good start would be lugging these fragging cannons to the top of this fragging hill to kill the fragging mahavans.
Rukh’s f-bomb had a cool sound to it, and Daniel liked it.
Daniel didn’t see the murder of crows in the sky nor their descent. One of the other Irregulars did, though, and she shouted warning.
Daniel’s gaze shot upward and fear momentarily froze him. Unformed. Seven of them. He snapped out of his panic and began calling orders.
The unformed swept down, gliding the last few feet only a few yards above the ground. When they hit they transformed into burly, heavily-coated cats. Two Irregulars screamed as the unformed tossed them off the steep hill. The cannons they’d been hauling slipped from the grasp of the remaining magi.
Daniel gaped as two more Irregulars were pulled off the hill. “Let go of the cannons!”
The Irregulars carried out his order. The cannons crashed to the ground far below.
Daniel drew his sword and sourced his lorethasra. He sent a web of Fire at the unformed. Other braids, of Air that hissed like a hundred cobras, or Water rippling like a monster’s tentacles, whipped about. The unformed dodged, twisting and diving. Daniel fired a bolt of Air and clubbed one out of the sky. Two lances of Fire put down two more of them. A shotgun blast of pebbles and rocks took down another pair. The last two unformed fled.
When he could finally pause and collect himself, the world seemed full of thunder. Daniel realized it was only his heart. He slowly calmed and surveyed the scene.
Nine Irregulars had been killed. All their cannons had been shattered and the rest of his troops huddled close to one another in shock. They clustered close, and some spoke quietly with one another. Shit. What a fubar clusterfrag.
Daniel reached into his pack for the satellite phone. He’d only finished dialing when something exploded at the top of the hill.
His eyes went toward the sound. His mouth went dry.
A flood of rocks and boulders rumbled toward him and his troop. There was no chance to run. A tide of stones swept toward Daniel and his magi. Pain filled his body, stole his thoughts, leaving only the regret that he’d never again get to kiss Lien.
“Incoming!” Mr. Zeus shouted.
Serena looked skyward and saw a pair of shells descending on their position. They roared, low-pitched like approaching thunder, and trailed yellow fire and smoke. She ducked and readied a weave of Air to thrust the shells away. She didn’t have to worry. The shells shifted their flight and shot straight down. They blasted into a terrace. Stone shattered, the sound ripping outward like a thunderclap. Someone’s home had been destroyed. Dozens of them had been.
For the past four hours Lilith’s terraces had suffered steady bombardment, and the magi hadn’t been able to effectively protect them, not with everyone gathered on Clifftop. Many of the structures below had been blasted apart. Yawning holes gaped within the decking of broken bridges, ragged piles of rubble replaced what had once been homes, and debris was all that remained of much of the various Main Stairs.
Thankfully, no structure on Clifftop had met such a fate. Here the buildings had largely escaped unscathed. While the mahavans had launched their shells, their attempts at attacking Clifftop had proven to be futile. The magi, both Irregulars and civilians, had hurled aside any shells launched this high,
Nevertheless, fires raged upon the terraces, and black smoke billowed. It hid the bright sun beneath a blanket of soot and ash.
The Irregulars watched all the destruction in disbelief and anger. They couldn’t do anything about it. Their cannons remained impotent, unable to breach whatever protection the Servitor’s ships possessed. An hour of lobbing shell after shell at the Sinskrill fleet had taught them the futility of doing so, and Jessira told them to save their ammunition.
Serena ground her teeth as she watched the slow-motion destruction. A gust of wind wafted a sinuous length of smoke into her face, and she coughed and hacked, eyes tearing and blinking as she tried to clear her vision. She didn’t need to see in order to hear the chaos all around her or the sobbing of those who knew they’d lost their homes.
Ms. Sioned approached, leaving the safety of wherever she’d taken cover, and Serena eyed her in question. “I’m too old to hide from the bogeyman,” the old raha’asra explained to Serena’s unvoiced query. She moved closer to the escarpment’s edge and fury and sorrow warred on her features.
“You shouldn’t stand so close to the rim,” Ser
ena said, coming to stand by the older woman’s elbow.
“If I had Ward Silver’s Fire,” Ms. Sioned growled, “those boats would be burning.”
Serena smiled at the words. Ms. Sioned’s voice had been fierce and full of loathing, both of which were at odds with her grandmotherly persona.
“We’re about to take the fight to the mahavans,” Serena said.
“How?” Ms. Sioned asked. “I saw those warriors who broke ranks and descended the Main Stairs.”
“Jessira told them not to go,” Serena quickly said.
“I know,” Ms. Sioned replied, “and I saw them killed just as Jessira warned would happen.” She tilted her head in thought. “What’s different this time?”
“Jessira has a plan,” Serena explained. “She’s sent several crews with cannons to an area south of the village and the bay. They’ll swing north from there and haul the cannons overland through the jungle surrounding my cottage. They’ll set up in the tree-line and fire at the mahavans’ ships from point-blank range. Jessira hopes the closer distance might penetrate the Sinskrill fleet’s shields.”
In that moment, Jessira, who stood a few yards away, tensed. Serena wondered at it. She searched for whatever had captured the other woman’s attention. She saw nothing different. The Sinskrill fleet continued to hold their positions in the bay and fire at Lilith. Nevertheless, worry and concentration remained on Jessira’s face and Serena couldn’t understand why.
An instant later Jessira called Fiona forward. “Dial the crews I sent down,” she ordered. “Tell them to hold off their attack.” She addressed Serena. “Get your cannon ready. Send a shot at Demolition. I want to see what happens.”
Serena didn’t know what Jessira had in mind, but she’d long ago learned to trust the other woman’s instincts. She quickly gathered her crew: Mr. Zeus, Fiona, and the Logan sisters. They wove their braids, and the air around the cannon warped like in a heat haze. Fiona’s Spirit glistened silver, and a second later the nomasra exploded from the mouth of the cannon. It soared, glowing red and taking the size and shape of a basketball.
Serena stepped aside and watched the shell’s flight
So did Jessira. She held binoculars to her eyes, obviously studying the Servitor’s ship. “Send it straight at Demolition. Explode it five yards above their main mast. Don’t worry about dodging their control. They won’t try to push the shell aside. They know we can’t hurt them.”
Fiona did as instructed. Several yards above the main mast, the shell exploded. Instantly the protective, gray webbing took shape. Demolition might have nudged a bit deeper into the water and rocked slightly, but otherwise she showed no damage.
“Another,” Jessira called. “No explosion this time.”
Serena and her crew obliged.
This time the shell ricocheted off the gray webbing.
Jessira still had her binoculars trained upon the ship. “One more,” she said. “Same effect. No explosion, descend it more slowly, though. As slow as you can.”
Serena wasn’t sure what Jessira had in mind, but she and the others did as instructed. They fired, and Fiona slowed the shell until it hung nearly motionless, suspended above Demolition. No defenses emerged until the shell was a few feet above the main mast. Then the webbing formed, this time creeping out slowly rather than shooting around the vessel all at once.
“Explode it,” Jessira ordered.
The shell blasted. The webbing snapped into place.
Jessira set aside her binoculars and smiled in pleasure. “The shield disseminates from the prow, from near the figurehead. A gray globe.”
Serena didn’t know how that information would help them. “Yes, but what can do we do about it?”
Jessira faced her. “We’ve been using the wrong type of ammunition. What we need are shells with no touch of asra.”
“Why?” Mr. Zeus asked.
“Because I think their shield reacts to asra,” Jessira said. “If nothing else, the webbing is the color of all the Elements mixed together.”
Fiona protested. “But we’ll never be able to maintain control of a shell like that. It’s too hard.”
“Not from up here we can’t,” Jessira agreed. “We need to get closer to their ships.”
Serena understood what she meant. “We need to take the shells to the cannons already below.” She inhaled deeply. “I’ll do it.”
“We’ll both do it,” Jessira said.
Rukh peered closely at the rocky canyon—a wide ravine really—where the battle would take place. Rugged hills with stony slopes made of gravel, stunted trees, and shrubs, boxed it in. A mournful wind moaned intermittently, like a ghost calling for help. It also blustered, raising a cloud of dirt and debris. Rukh formed a film of Air to protect his eyes. As soon as the wind passed and the dust settled he was able to see again.
Nothing had changed. The canyon remained empty, but according to the scouts, the mahavans had scraped together a low wall fifty yards from where the ravine curved south and narrowed further. A good place to defend against a frontal assault, especially if the Sinskrill commander also positioned his warriors along the flanks to ward off an attacking enemy.
Rukh pursed his mouth and imagined where the enemy troop placements would be. He had a fairly good notion, but the unformed were the wildcards. They hadn’t abandoned the mahavans. They’d fought Jason’s unit less than an hour ago, and they’d likely fought Daniel’s troop as well, but of that Rukh couldn’t be certain. He hadn’t heard from them yet and the lack of information worried him. Daniel should have checked in by now. The fact that he hadn’t caused Rukh to believe that something terrible must have happened. The rumble he’d heard. A rockslide. He’d sent William and another twenty warriors to take the hill originally intended to be held by Daniel’s unit, and he wouldn’t move his own warriors until the mahavans’ cannons were neutralized.
The pause also gave Aia a chance to reach him. He sensed her presence in the back of his mind. She couldn’t be more than several miles away and charging fast. He wished he could wait for her arrival, to fight with her at his side as they had on many other occasions in their long, shared past. Other than Jessira, there was no one else he wanted with him.
His satellite phone rang.
William spoke from the other end. “We’ve got the hill.”
Rukh’s heart lifted briefly, but it sank an instant later. He had to know the answer to a question he dreaded asking. “Daniel?”
William didn’t answer at first. “We found their remains,” he said after a short pause. “An avalanche took them. Part of the cliff face sheered off. Must have been the mahavans. They probably got off a lucky shot with their cannons.”
Rukh stilled the grief in his heart. Focus on the Trial at hand. “What about the unformed?”
“Three of them attacked as we ascended. We killed them all. No losses on our part.”
Rukh unconsciously nodded. “Are you in position?”
“We will be in five minutes. We’re setting up the cannons now.”
“The mahavans?”
“They’ve sent ranging shots,” William answered. “Nothing major. No damage. When they fire on our position, we’re able to take control of their shells. They can’t hold onto them the entire way to us.”
“Good. When you’re set up, fire at will. I want those cannons gone.”
“Yes, sir,” William answered. “One other thing. I didn’t see any of our cannons on that hill. The ones they have are of their own design. They must have ours on their wall.”
“Which means they’ll be that much easier to bring down.”
“My thoughts exactly, sir,” William said.
Once he hung up, Rukh allowed himself to momentarily acknowledge the pain aching through his heart. Daniel. The young man, so happy, carefree, and silly, really. He reminded him of Keemo. A fresh pang of loss took Rukh, and he bowed his head, saying a prayer to Devesh for his long-lost friend—a brother of his heart–as well as for Daniel, a young m
an who shouldn’t have had to die today. In a better world, he would never have known battle.
It occurred to Rukh how many good men and women he’d seen die before their time. He’d lost count of how often those same fine folk had entered into a battle and trusted their fate to his command. But he’d never forgotten their names. Devesh help him, there were so many.
Sometimes—oftentimes—he thought he and Jessira had lived too long.
*Say that after you’ve snatched my chin,* a distant voice said to him.
Rukh smiled in relief. Aia.
FIND THE FLAW
October 1990
* * *
Serena tiptoed along the edge of a gaping hole in Chimera Seed, a blocky bridge that stretched from Cliff Water to Cliff Spirit. Taking this route let her bypass much of the destruction that made travel to the base of Lilith’s escarpment all but impossible. In this section, only a two-foot shelf of the bridge remained, and on one side was open space and on the other, a cascade that plunged into a pool fifty feet below. The waterfall hurled spray in a fine mist and made the uncomfortable footing even worse, turning it slick as ice.
Serena moved slowly. She controlled her breathing, inching forward as she clutched the railing. She focused on the placement of her feet. She couldn’t afford to slip up here. Not only would she plunge to her death, but Selene and so many others she loved might be the ones to pay the price for her failure.
Jessira had chosen no one else to accompany her on this mission, only the two of them traveling across the bridges and streets of Lilith’s abandoned terraces. Everyone else remained at Clifftop. While they could have brought along more magi for the journey to the base of the Cliffs, Jessira feared that more people would simply raise the possibility of one or more magi drifting outside the scope of her Blend, the strange weave only she and Rukh could create and which made them essentially invisible.
Thankfully, the mahavan shelling had slowed over the past hour, which made their journey easier. Serena gritted her teeth at the damage the mahavan had inflicted, promising to repay the Sinskrill fleet for what they’d done to Lilith. She’d sink every one of them. It didn’t matter that the mahavans had once been her people. They weren’t any more, and they certainly weren’t family.
