by Davis Ashura
“Get ready to fire,” Jessira said.
Serena retreated from the cannons. She had no further role here.
The two crews of five magi sourced their lorethasras. They intended on firing their projectiles at maximum velocity at the Sinskrill fleet, but yards before impacting the mahavans’ protective webbing, the nomasra portion of the shell would disintegrate. The thinly-cased, white phosphorous would continue on and hopefully smash into the Sinskrill ship. Even better if they exploded close to the gray globes Jessira had noticed.
At least that was the plan.
The cannons slowly reddened, and Serena prayed the white phosphorous wouldn’t ignite due to the heat.
She readied the satellite phone. Mr. Zeus answered. “We’re about to fire,” she told him.
“I hope this works,” he answered.
Jessira held binoculars to her eyes and studied the mahavan fleet. “We’ve got company coming,” she announced.
Serena quickly wove binoculars and saw what Jessira meant. Two rowboats, each one filled with five mahavans, had been lowered to the water. They pushed off and accelerated toward the beach. They’d arrive in no more than a few minutes. Worse, the boats were heading for their position.
Jessira set aside her binoculars. “Serena and I will defend against the mahavans approaching us.”
Serena passed on the information to Mr. Zeus.
Jessira pointed. “I want the ships that launched those mahavans burning. Fire!”
“Firing,” Serena relayed to Mr. Zeus.
Both cannons boomed, and the shells trailed a white plume as they streaked across the sky. The projectiles took on an arrow shape with a round, black tip. Several seconds passed. The shots continued aimed dead-on for each ship’s prow.
A dozen yards out from the vessels, the nomasras disintegrated. The iron balls shivered in their flight and lost height.
Serena sucked in her breath.
A single iron casing slammed into each ship several feet below the bowsprit and exploded.
Serena cheered along with the rest of the cannon crews. Yes! Jessira was right. Nomasras couldn’t penetrate the Sinskrill shields, but normal metal could.
The ships caught fire and belched smoke. Wood cracked. Planks splintered and charred. Mahavans shouted and rushed about, weaving braids of Water. The forepeak of one ship split off from the vessel with a sharp report. Both ships lost their gray globes.
Serena whooped in joy, sharing her happiness with the other Irregulars who also cheered.
“Tell Mr. Zeus,” Jessira reminded her.
Abashed, Serena quickly told Mr. Zeus what had happened. “Two ships down. Take them out.”
“We saw,” Mr. Zeus said. “Stay safe.”
“Will do.” Serena hung up the phone as Jessira snapped out more commands.
A series of booms thundered from Clifftop. Nomasra shells streaked across the sky.
“Fire on the rest of the ships,” Jessira said. “Kill them all before they have time to figure out we’re doing.” She addressed Serena and pointed to the mahavans in the boats. “We have to stop them. Keep the mahavans attention on us instead of the cannon crews.”
Serena loosened her sword, ready and willing. Her jaw clenched. She’d promised the mahavans some payback, and she had every intention of fulfilling her vow. She followed Jessira onto the sands of Lilith Beach.
KILLING FIELDS
October 1990
* * *
William ran smooth and easy along a gravel path that wound through a hollow amongst the hills. He traveled with Rukh, Travail, Aia, and Shon, although he still had trouble accepting the size of the two cats, especially Aia. She’d been a tiny kitten when he’d last seen her. Then again, he had never forgotten the lightning-flash afterimage when she’d attacked Kohl Obsidian. In that frozen moment, she’d stood as tall as the necrosed, which meant she still had room to grow. As for her tawny brother, he would eventually overtop Aia.
Kesarins. That’s what they’re called, Apparently Aia belonged to Rukh, or maybe it was the other way around. William couldn’t tell, but their love for one another was as obvious as the vibrant, calico colors of Aia’s fur. Shon and Jessira were another matched pair.
The five of them ran on. The gravel crunched beneath William’s and Rukh’s booted feet, the Kesarins’ padded paws, and Travail’s leathery soles. Their travel had taken them miles southwest of the destruction of the mahavan forces and the land had transitioned from rugged, rocky mounts to the rolling, swarded hills northeast of Janaki Valley. Copses of spruce, cedar, and aspen intermingled amongst the greenery and a vagrant breeze occasionally carried the scent of pine. Despite the lowering sun and the shade amongst trees and hollows, the stifling humidity remained.
William sweated heavily, and he was pleased to see Rukh do the same. They’d been running hard, and the man was finally showing some of the fatigue that weighed down William’s limbs. It was understandable, their tiredness. They had been pushing hard. None of them could afford to give in to weakness.
William smiled to himself when he realized how much his thoughts sounded like something Serena might say. Thinking about her, he once again sent a prayer for those at Clifftop, for their safety and health. He prayed also for the strength to catch the unformed.
Despite Evelyn’s attempts at deception, she hadn’t been able to lie to Aia or hide her true thoughts and motives. According to the mahavan, the Sinskrill commander, Adam Paradiso, had split his forces into three parts. Evelyn had been left behind with a diversionary unit while a second one raced toward Lilith armed with cannons. Ward would have to stop them. Meanwhile, a third force, this one comprised entirely of unformed, had taken a different, more circuitous route toward the village. However, the unformed had spent themselves too heavily with flying about on scouting missions. They’d worn themselves out, and now they journeyed in the swiftest form they could maintain: horses. Thankfully, they couldn’t gallop all the way to Lilith and to the Sinskrill fleet. They’d have to walk part of the way.
William and the others had to catch them. Signs of the unformed herd’s passage, droppings and numerous overturned stones, told them that they were gaining on the creatures. They’d reach them within the next few hours, somewhere in Janaki Valley or possibly in the northern areas of Lilith. When that happened, William, Rukh, Travail, Aia, and Shon would have to defeat nearly forty unformed on their own.
William shook his head at the thought.
*The Nobeasts, the creatures you misname as unformed, left seven of their own to impede our progress,* Aia said.
*Where?* Rukh asked.
Aia transmitted Rukh’s question to William and Travail.
*Less than a half-mile ahead,* Shon answered. *They plan on rolling rocks onto our heads when we pass through a narrow gorge.*
*Are they bunched up?* William asked.
*Yes,* Aia said. *Why?*
William’s mouth thinned in a predatory smile. *Jason taught me something a few months ago, how to create and split lightning. I can take out all the unformed with one weave.*
Travail tsked. *Unless one of them is as powerful as a secondus or a prime.*
*My guess is that they’ll be low- ranking,* Rukh said. *From what I’ve read about the unformed, the powerful ones send the weaker ones out in situations like this. They expect battle to cull those who lack the cunning to survive.*
Travail grunted acknowledgement.
They traveled on, and soon found themselves entering a rocky ravine lined with steep cliffs and loose boulders. A river might have carved the canyon, but its remnants persisted only in a small stream. A herd of goats shuffled atop the cliffs and lazily chewed their cuds as William and the others approached them.
*The unformed creatures are a hundred yards ahead,* Shon said.
William frowned as he stared about. He didn’t see the unformed.
*The goats,* Aia added helpfully.
Reluctant admiration for the unformed washed over him. *Smart.*
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“Smarter for our sakes if they were dead,” Travail said, speaking aloud.
William privately agreed, and he sourced his lorethasra, linked its component Elements to the corresponding ones found in lorasra. He braided a thick weave of Fire and Air and held it at the ready. It crackled across his shoulders and chest like lightning. Seconds later, he had seven more braids—these made of Earth and Spirit—rippling in his hands as well.
*Fifty yards,* Shon said.
*Any time now,* Rukh said.
*Yes, sir,* William said. He thrust out his arms, and the braids of Earth and Spirit arrowed toward the goats, attaching to them in less than a blink of the eye. They’d act as lines of conduction. The weave of Fire and Air blistered down his arms, off his hands, and onto the braids of Earth and Spirit. There, it split into seven white-hot, blazing lances of lightning. A wall of light sparked toward each goat. One of them had time to bleat in fear. A few transformed into falcons.
Too late. Each lance caught an unformed in mid-leap or in mid-flight. It didn’t matter. They were all burned to charred husks.
Aia beamed at him as her eyes crinkled. *I knew you had the heart of a predator.*
Serena raced alongside Jessira as they burst out of the tree line. Ten mahavans tumbled out of their rowboats as they reached the beach. Serena ran harder, barely keeping up with Jessira.
As they approached the Sinskrill warriors she leaned on her mahavan training to suppress her feelings. She imagined her fears and anger locked away in a thick, impenetrable box until they remained at a distant remove. Serena’s heart still raced but she viewed the approaching Sinskrill warriors with resoluteness and determination. I’ve fought mahavans before. I battled the Servitor. This can’t be any worse than that.
“We only have to hold them off,” Jessira reminded her.
Serena nodded.
Behind them, the magi cannon crews worked frantically to get their weapons ready to fire again. Three more Sinskrill ships still floated undamaged in the harbor. The magi behind her shouted and raced about as they loaded the phosphorous rounds.
“Be careful,” Serena heard Diana Mangold call out. “If you drop that round, we’ll all burn.”
The cannons on Clifftop roared again, and their shells screamed across the sky. Serena traced their path as they arched heavenward. Their rise slowed, halted. They descended then. Serena heard their whistling scream as the nomasras picked up speed, moving like shooting stars. They shattered the damaged Sinskrill ships into kindling.
The three remaining vessels of the Servitor’s fleet had already altered course and drifted farther into the harbor. Serena sourly noted that one of them was Demolition.
“Cover my back,” Jessira said.
Serena’s attention snapped back to the here and now as Jessira blurred forward, too fast to follow. Serena did her best to remain at her side but quickly fell back. Nevertheless, she ran on. Her focus narrowed to the mahavans on the beach, who had unsheathed their weapons. She could see their faces. She knew them. They weren’t her friends.
Serena shouted defiance as she and Jessira closed the distance.
Jake pedaled hard and ignored the crick in his side, the pounding of his heart, and the sweat pouring off of him. He gasped for breath but never let up. He kept going. He had to after the word they’d just received.
The mahavans had split their forces. One large group had been held in reserve to delay and distract Rukh’s warriors while the rest, roughly seventy, had marched non-stop through the southern foothills of Mount Madhava. Their intention was obvious in hindsight. They meant to use Firedeep Gorge, the narrow trail that winded through the eastern foothills and entered Janaki Valley five miles north of Clifftop. From there, it was only a several-hours hike along Sita’s Song, even with the cannons the mahavans were said to possess.
Ward’s force had to cut them off, but Jake wasn’t sure they could. All this time they’d remained stationed toward the northern end of Janaki Valley waiting on the mahavans, but now, they had to race south and cover twenty twisting miles as quickly as possible.
No one spoke as they sped along. The only sounds were their panting breaths. They knew what awaited them if they delayed. They’d already passed Firedeep Gorge and come across signs of the mahavans passage. Fields burned, and farmers and their families slaughtered.
Jake couldn’t get the images of women and children lying in pools of blood out of his mind. They’d tried to run. Some had made it to Sita’s Song before the mahavans had cut them down.
Jake clenched his teeth in rage. I’ll see the mahavans dead. Every one of them.
Pungent smoke clouded the sky. It carried the scents of burnt corn, wheat, and blood. In that moment, some of it drifted across the Irregulars, causing several of them to slow down and cough. As soon as they cleared the smoke, they picked up the pace again. Jake tried to shut his mind off from the sights and smells. He concentrated on Ward, who rode ahead of him.
Minutes later, they reached Sile Troy’s farm. His fields burned, but Jake saw no sign of the farmer or his wife. He sent up a quick prayer, hoping Sile and Jennifer were safe. Two more miles to go.
The distant sound of thunder reached them, and Jake eyed the sky in confusion. There were no clouds, only a late afternoon sun.
Ward held up a hand, and they coasted to a halt.
Jake shifted about, restless at the delay.
Ward twisted around on his bike to face them. “Watch the skies. The mahavans may have unformed up there,” he warned. “When we reach the enrune fields, we should have a sense of where the mahavans are positioned. From now until then, we can’t afford to ride flat out into hell and danger. We have to pay attention to what’s around us, especially from above.” His features became fierce, and he stared about, making everyone meet his gaze. “Remember your training. We’ve gone over this. A third of you each will follow Jake and Julius and a third will follow me. You already have your assigned commanders. Once we see what we’re up against, we’ll attack.”
With that Ward got going again, and they picked up the pursuit. This time, though, they rode more slowly, not pell-mell, and Jake scanned the skies the entire time. Nothing.
A mile later, they crested a rise. Lakshman’s Bow arched across River Namaste, less than a hundred yards away. And on the other side of the bridge, planted on the enrune fields like hideous weeds, were the mahavans. They’d managed to haul three cannons with them and were presently obliterating Clifftop.
Jake’s heart dropped. Fifteen buildings were already down, crumbled and broken. They could have sheltered dozens of people each. Hundreds might have died. Jake wanted to scream in fury.
Ward kept his head. “Cross the bridge and split into three columns. Ride hard and kill them all.”
They set off at a pedaling sprint. Jake pumped hard. They rattled across Lakshman’s Bow and separated into three groups of around thirty riders, spread out in a line. Jake and Julius had the wings and Ward took the van. Two hundred yards.
The mahavans saw them coming and frantically brought their cannons around. Jake unconsciously sucked in his stomach. God save us. He rode straight down the barrel of a cannon. Its mouth yawned. Seventy yards.
He reached for his lorethasra, formed a thick cord of Spirit, and stretched it into a lock. He desperately hurled it at a clustered crew of mahavans readying the cannon aimed at him and his riders. He managed to place the weave on one of them. Another mahavan rushed to fill the space. Forty yards.
A cannon went off, a shotgun blast that annihilated many of Ward’s riders.
Thirty yards.
Another cannon went off.
This time Julius’ left flank was obliterated.
Twenty yards.
The cannon aimed at Jake’s warriors reddened. Jake pumped harder. He scanned ahead, and saw what he needed. Just a few more seconds to reach it.
The cannon’s color grew richer. Any second now it would go off.
There!
Jake used a
braid of Air and Earth to pull a boulder from the ground. He stuffed it in the barrel of the cannon.
“Halt and shield!” he shouted.
Relief flooded through him when his Irregulars braked hard and created a shieldwall.
Jake sent a thick thread of Spirit into the shell. He hoped the cannon worked the same as their own.
The barrel exploded like shrapnel into the faces of the mahavans. A dozen of them went down, shredded into mincemeat.
Jake’s gorge rose, but he didn’t let it slow him down. “Attack!” he ordered.
His Irregulars surged forward, crossing the final few yards to the remaining mahavans.
Jake called up all his Elements He sent braids of incinerating Fire, crushing Earth, stabbing Air, and drowning Water, savaging the mahavans who remained upright by the cannons. He leapt off his bicycle and drew his sword. “To me!” he shouted. “Form on me!”
His Irregulars responded, forming a knot of flashing steel and Elements. They advanced.
Jake blocked a lunge, snapped a riposte that bit into a mahavan’s face. The man fell back. Jake sent a line of Fire at another mahavan. She cried out in terror and tried to throw herself aside. The Fire followed her, punching through her chest. Another mahavan, a heavily built man, attacked with a blistering set of thrusts and slashes. Jake dove out of the way. He couldn’t take on the man with his sword alone. Instead, he hurled a shotgun blast of pebbles at the mahavan, who defended with a shield of Earth. The thick-set man was now open to a different attack. Jake attached a lock on him, not letting him link to Arylyn’s lorasra. A boulder crushed the man’s head.
Jake pushed on, searching for more enemies. He cut and thrust, but mostly continued to lock out the mahavans. As a raha’asra, none of them could match him in mastery of Spirit. Nor could they overcome his lock. His Irregulars easily killed those who held steel but not lorethasra.
The mahavans fought on. They must have realized that no quarter would be offered. Not after what they’d done to Clifftop.
The killing might have lasted a lifetime. Blood sprayed. Bowels emptied, and men and women cried out in pain. Time froze, but Jake fought on. These are the murderers who enslaved me and killed my people. I’ll see them all dead.
