by Franc Ingram
The yeti was too quick, having learned from his brother's mistake. He smacked the arrow away and dropped to all fours, charging with enough speed to send Mevra flying when he crashed into her. Oleana tried to stand, but the rocks were slippery and her legs unsteady, so she didn't make it far before the yeti swiped her across the shoulder and chest, knocking her flat and adding to the blinding pain already coursing through her borrowed body.
The yeti grabbed her leg, but it released it just as quickly. Oleana curled up into a ball before forcing herself to her feet, bringing the bow with her. Turning around, she saw Allana and Mevra fighting the yeti in tandem.
They switched off throwing punches and kicks, then moving away faster than the yeti could adjust. Oleana had enough space to observe their pattern and to gauge when best to make her move. When Mevra went high there was a split-second lapse between Allana's move to go low. Oleana could take advantage of that.
She grabbed two of her arrows. She still had enough of Cornelius' power in her to coat them with a thick layer of diamond-hard ice. Using the bow was too risky. He could deflect it. Oleana had to get up close.
Oleana ticked off the count in her head. Five till Mevra touched down. Four. Oleana bounced on her heels and adjusted her grip on the spears. Three. Merva moved in for a high right hook the same time Oleana started her run. Two. Mevra's punch landed. Oleana jumped. Mevra moved back and Oleana landed atop the yeti, her icy spears coming down and through the yeti with all the force that Lorn's body could bring to bear. The first sliced through the yeti's shoulder, the next through its chest, and the yeti fell backward speared like a pig on a spit.
Oleana laid there, stunned by the death of the yeti and their brutal impact with the ground. She felt the rocks digging into her knees and her ice spears cutting into her hands. Mevra's hand on her shoulder made her flinch, she was so wound up.
"Sorry, sire," Mevra said, backing up a step. "Are you...?"
Oleana shook off her daze. "I'm fine."
The ice storm pelted her back as she struggled to stand. Lorn's body had taken far more abuse than she had intended. But he was alive, and Cornelius wasn't.
"You think you can do something about the storm?" Allana asked over the howling wind.
Oleana shook her head. She had nothing left in her to control a raindrop, much less a storm.
"Well, I guess we fight in the rain." Mevra smiled. Oleana would have thought it the onset of madness, but there was a light in the younger woman's eyes that spoke more of determination.
The two sisters knocked their bows together in a show of solidarity.
"Well, goodness, I needed a shower today anyhow," Oleana said, comfortable using Lorn's usual way of speaking.
She looked down at her hands. She'd reopened some old wounds and made a few of her own, but they were still strong and knew a bow better than anyone. She retrieved her bow, which had kicked against the mountainside in the struggle.
"To the front line, ladies," she said giving her companions a friendly salute.
The three of them forced their way back to the edge of the cliff, as close to the fighting below as they could manage without wasting more precious time climbing down. Oleana didn't know a lot about the bow, it wasn't her best weapon, but she let Lorn's muscle memory do most of the work.
The wind didn't help their aim, but it wasn't long before the line of archers helped push back the line of invading forces, leaving Fabian and his crew to sweep up the rest. Darten was saved.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE: ESCAPE
Leith discovered an interesting thing as he ushered people inside the cave and away from the fire. The inner part of the dragon's nest was made from the skeletal remains of a dragon twice the size of the ones he'd been dealing with. There were bones that stood up to the fire that had raged around them and suffered not even a single burn mark. So, when he looked down at Emmaray's body and saw the shallow rise and fall of her chest he knew just how to keep the fire ultra contained.
Jonathan came up next to him and said nothing for a moment as they both just looked down at the peaceful Emmaray. Seeing her like that it was hard to believe she'd done so much damage to so many people.
"Lysander, we have more wounded than we can care for out here."
Being called by Lysander's name was a sharp reminder to Leith that he wasn't where he was supposed to be. He'd done his job and while he trusted Lysander to do the same it was hard not knowing what was going on back in Evermore.
"We go to Marsal."
"They'll slaughter us after what we did to their queen."
Leith shook his head. "She be our shield." He hefted Emmaray up onto his shoulders and marched her back to the cave.
Inside men and women, Gaeth and outsiders alike huddled together in groups, exhausted from the fighting, many of them burned and bleeding. The more serious cases were being tended to by their comrades.
"Make 'em some pallets to move wounded. I be building cage for Emmaray. Daycia and Zyair get back wit the dragons, we move out."
Jonathan stared at him. Leith could see the wheels in his head turning trying to add things up in his head. "How do you know they'll come back? And how exactly did you rein in those dragons? I thought that was Leith's power."
"Later. More pressing issues." Leith walked away before Jonathan could ask anything more he didn't want to explain.
As for Daycia, Leith knew she would come back because there was no other option. She was tougher than all the rest of them put together and Zyair wouldn't let anything happen to her. That was one worry he could shove away into a dark corner of his mind. There were so many other things that needed his immediate attention.
Without any specialized tools for the job building the cage took more sweat and effort than Leith had first expected. Since everyone else was busy taking care of the wounded he also had to keep one eye on Emmaray. Every deep breath she took or moan she let out sent him into a panic.
He'd been so focused he didn't pay attention to the tingle of his predator sense until it was accompanied by the shout of someone at the mouth of the cave. "They’re back."
Leith threw Emmaray into the cage, not bothering to even test it. He rushed back to the front to see Zyair walking the two dragons in like they were puppies on a leash. The man looked exhausted, but he was in one piece. His clothes were soaked through and he carried the scent of the sea with him.
Daycia was laid out on the back of the dragon nearest Leith. He ran to her side, grabbing her wrist and feeling for a pulse. Her skin was clammy and cool, but her heartbeat was steady.
"Alive," he muttered to himself. He let his head drop, resting it against the side of the dragon. Its cool, rough scales were enough to calm the fevered worry that had raged inside of Leith.
"We should move," Jonathan urged.
Leith nodded. He didn't want to move. He wanted to lay down and sleep, let the aches and pains in his body disappear under the blanket of unconsciousness. But he had to get his people safe.
He stood over the group of Elevated that were captured after the battle. "You lead us back to Marsal, you wounded get treatment."
One of them stood. A young woman, hair cropped tight to her oval head, earrings shining, and calloused hands bound in front of her. The burns along her shoulder and back were already bandaged.
"I'll lead you if you promise my sister will get the help she needs." The woman indicated one of the more severe cases laid out on a hastily made pallet.
The sister's eyes were closed but she whimpered constantly. Wet rags were laid across her chest and both arms to keep her injuries clean and protected. Leith didn't know if a doctor would be able to save her, but he was willing to let one try.
"Promise," he said, hand over his heart.
"Let's go." The Elevated woman replied, her eyes focused on her sister.
Leith turned to his people. "Emmaray gets center. Wounded around her. Able-bodied on outside to guard. Slow n' steady."
The formation was readied quickly. Lei
th took a position right beside their Elevated guide. Zyair continued to stay in front of the dragons who were now loaded down with various injured soldiers. They made their slow, lumbering way across the tropical forest making it back to Marsal in time to see the sun rise from behind the volcanoes.
The city was still mostly empty. The workers hadn't come in from the outlying villages yet. Those who did catch sight of them quickly sounded an alarm that spread across the city like wildfire. By the time the convoy reached Emmaray's tower, a group of Elevated was waiting for them. Leith kept his sword in his sheath and his hands up.
"We not wishing to fight," he assured them. "Just be needing help for wounded." Leith moved aside to show them there were Elevated wounded being treated the same as his own men.
Leith wasn't sure he'd made the right choice. He knew only a block away Caledonian slaves were still chained to their workstations in a factory. He'd wanted to send part of the group to free them, but he was in a precarious position. So many of his people needed immediate medical help, without Gaeth’s help, his people would die.
Trying to take it by force would only result in more deaths, something Leith was desperate to avoid. He had to get the people to see he wasn't the enemy. He meant them no harm.
"We ask parley," Leith said, using the word he borrowed from Kameke.
The Elevated looked past him to the cage Emmaray was in, then over to The Elevated woman beside him. Leith had spent the march into town trying to convince her how oppressive Emmaray had been, how cruelly she treated them, and how much all he wanted was his people back and they could make all the rest of the decisions on their own. The whole time she'd not said one word back to him. Leith had no idea if any of it sunk in. He had no idea if she would help them when they needed it most.
In the painfully long silence, Emmaray took the opportunity to stir. Leith heard a rattle in her cage and turned. Emmaray stretched like a jungle cat and stood. She inspected her cage like she would a choice piece of meat set before her.
"Get me out of here," she yelled not even glancing at the Elevated soldiers she was commanding.
"The wounded," someone reminded her. Leith couldn't tell if it was Elevated or an ally.
"Slaughter them all and get me out of here," Emmaray snarled. She gripped the bars and rattled it hard enough to almost rock it off the makeshift carrier they'd thrown together. Jonathan had to hold it steady. It was odd seeing the powerful, deadly Emmaray act like a spoiled child throwing a tantrum.
"Please," Leith pleaded, "No need for that. You want her back we give her up, after wounded are treated. No violence. No more deaths." Leith turned to the Elevated woman beside him. The one whose sister would die if the fighting started back up. "Please."
She looked at him, her light brown eyes sparkling. Her full lips were pressed into a tight line and Leith could see the war raging inside of her. The conflict between doing what she'd been taught from birth was the right thing, and doing what she needed to do to save her sister.
"They did all they could to prevent death and pain, and she," the Elevated woman pointed at Emmaray, "did all she could to slaughter everyone in her path including her loyal elite. I'm asking you, just this once, do what your heart says and not what she commands."
"You will not defy me. I am your queen. Your goddess. Free me now!"
"Why can our goddess not free herself?" One of the Elevated asked.
Emmaray's mouth fell open and Leith didn't know if she was going to cry or explode. "You will all burn for your insolence," Emmaray hissed. She reached her hand through the bars and let loose a stream of fire that was aimed directly at the defiant Elevated.
Leith dove, taking the Elevated woman at his side down with him, just missing getting singed. The Elevated in front of them dove for cover in different directions, bumping into each other as they moved. Emmaray's attack landed on the door of her tower, puttering out against the metal engravings there.
When no other attack came, Leith looked back to see Jonathan standing over a prone Emmaray, the hilt of his sword clasped in his hand. Leith nodded his thanks before getting to his feet.
"We not the ones meaning you harm," Leith explained while helping the Elevated woman up.
"We will allow you to keep your prize for now. We will tend to all the wounded. Then you give us back what is ours." The Elevated leader said.
Leith wanted to cry he was so relieved. He stammered for the right words to say but nothing came close to expressing how surprised and grateful he was that someone on the island had some sense of reason.
"You can set Emmaray in the throne room. We will march the rest to the hospital," the Elevated leader explained, pointing out a two-story building further along the main street they were on.
"I got her," Leith offered.
The Elevated moved in to take the wounded off the backs of the dragons while Leith hitched Emmaray's cage to them.
Emmaray's tower felt empty with just them inside. It was dark with only the day's light pouring in the windows. Leith found a quiet corner to stash the Fire Ultra, ordering the dragons to keep anyone else from coming near her.
He had to help with the care of his men. Lysander would have had his hide if he did any different.
The Marsal hospital wasn't prepared for so many. They ran out of beds before they ran out of people to care for.
The wounded were being separated into groups, from most severe to minor. Daycia, still unconscious, landed in the latter category. Zyair stayed at her side. Leith wouldn't have called the air of the room friendly, but it was calm.
Healers were brought in from around the city, working on those that needed it most. Leith was reminded of the makeshift hospital back in Caledonia, which felt like a lifetime ago. The same smells of disinfectant and healing herbs assaulted his nose. The same chilling surround sound screams of those in pain filled his ears.
The pain being experienced was the same, but the hope after was different. Leith had won the victory. If all he got to do with it was take his people home that was fine. It still counted, and he had done what Lysander had set out to do.
"This peace won't last," the Elevated leader said as he came up to Leith. "When Emmaray is freed she'll make it her mission to destroy you for humiliating her."
Leith froze, confused. "Why would you set her free?"
The Elevated man shrugged. "She's our leader. Our heart. Without her we're nothing."
Leith shook his head in disbelief. "You defied her. She'll kill you."
"I accept my fate, but I did what was best for her and the people. A fight would have caused more damage and just highlighted her weakness. This way she can blame the failure on me. Maybe she'll sacrifice a few of us to save face, but many more were saved by my actions."
"There a better way. We take her back with us and you free to rule how you feel," Leith insisted.
The Elevated leader remained hard and unreadable. "You promised to give her back. That is all that we require. You can have your people," he paused glancing sidelong out the door, "all of them. Then you will leave and never look back."
Leith didn't like the partial victory, but he would take what was offered. They'd proven that Emmaray was vulnerable. Whatever move she made next would be hindered by that fact. Leith would get the Caledonian slaves back home where they belonged. After that, he could focus on finishing Emmaray off for good.
"Where am I?" Daycia asked drawing Leith's attention.
He ran to her side, agitating the doctor that was tending to her. "Thank The Twelve," Leith said taking Daycia's hand in his.
"You're in Marsal hospital," the local doctor, male, forties, and blunt explained. "Looks like you took a few hits, but they seem to be healing rapidly so I wouldn't worry about them too much. Just take it easy for a few days."
"Got it," Daycia replied.
The doctor nodded before turning and walking away.
Zyair brushed Daycia's hair behind her ear and kissed her forehead. "You really had me worried there
."
"Takes more than that," Daycia insisted, though her voice sounded weak and dry. She tried to sit up but it took Zyair's help to get her into an upright position. "Where's my mother?"
"Caged in her throne room no threat to anyone," Zyair replied. "Don't worry about it. Just rest."
Daycia nodded. She laid her head against his chest, her eyes fluttering closed within seconds. Leith sat next to Zyair, his tired, aching body begging for sleep.
"What do we do after they're all tended to?" Zyair asked.
"Take our people and go home," Leith said with his eyes closed.
01101110
While Daycia slept, Leith took the time to load the boats with what supplies the locals were willing to part with. It was late in the day when the Elevated leader, Marcum asked to meet at the factory where the Caledonians were being kept. Daycia insisted on coming along even though the simple act of walking took a lot out of her.
"We have at least a dozen that won't be able to take the journey back to Caledon," Daycia pointed out.
"The Elevated aren't going to put up with us much longer," Zyair countered. "It was okay when Emmaray was yelling at them. Now that she's gone silent their morale is breaking. The next time we fall asleep under their roof we might wake up to swords at our throats."
Leith hesitated at the door of the garment factory. "No choice. We leave it up to wounded to decide."
Daycia and Zyair exchanged looks. Leith didn't like it either. The only option was to risk dying on the journey home or be left on Gaeth and pray that Emmaray would be too angry at her own people to worry about the leftover invaders. Leith couldn't risk the whole group by staying.
He yanked the door open, the rusty hinges squealing as he did. The smell of harsh dyes and fear sweat wafted out. Marcum was standing at the railway looking down on the factory floor. He turned when Leith stepped in.
"Their bonds have been removed. You are free to take them and leave. Remember your promise not to step foot on our island again," Marcum explained.
