by JD Cole
“Yes, sir!” Greenbay’s external speaker boomed, shocking the faeries. The large battle platform, while still not as tall as Sean Vox, moved far more quickly and nimbly than its size would have suggested.
“Let’s start small, soldier,” Sean said. “See if you can just rip a piece off.”
“Roger that.” The VT-4 reached forward, grabbing hold of the trialstone with its left hand. The right hand then clamped down hard elsewhere on the stone and began trying to claw its fingers into the stone. All he accomplished was a harsh screeching sound. He next formed a fist and punched the rough surface, twice. Again, the trialstone rewarded him with nothing more than loud noise and a bit of scratched paint. “That’s some tough stuff, General. Not even a mark.” The VT-4 reached behind to where its plasma rifle was mounted. “Should I try a shot with the plasma?”
“Nah,” Sean growled, turning to walk back towards everyone else. “Let’s stop wasting time. See what a HEXSR does to this thing.”
“Copy. On your mark,” Greenbay agreed, backing his platform away from the trialstone.
“Everyone, please cover your ears. This is going to be painfully loud.” When Sean made sure his audience was a healthy distance from the platform, he shouted “FIRE!”
A tube on the VT-4’s back dropped over its left shoulder, and a lid at the front opened to expose two HEXSR rockets. Designed for extreme short-range use, one rocket popped free of the launcher and streaked at the stone. The first-stage explosive, a precision shaped-charge, blasted all of its energy forward into the surface of the trialstone. This was immediately followed by the primary charge, also designed to explode forward as much as possible, or any direction other than back toward whoever fired it. Everyone in the theater but Sean and the VT-4s fell to their knees, clutching their ears and flinching under the shockwave and the crashing sound of the stone falling over.
Once they’d regained their senses, the mystics wove minor spells clearing the theater of smoke. Everyone stood and eagerly gathered around the trialstone, which lay sideways on the stage. The rocket’s point of impact was obvious, having warped the surface into a grapefruit-sized crater. The faeries stood wide-eyed at the unimaginable power they’d just witnessed.
“Was that your most powerful attack?” Meshra could not pull his gaze from the trialstone.
“Not even close,” Sean answered. “Does this count as a significant mark?”
Meshra looked up at him incredulously, then pointed to a slash near the top of the trialstone, roughly five inches long and two or three centimeters deep. “That is a significant mark.” He then pointed at the rocket crater, which would easily hold a bowl of breakfast cereal. “That is going to require a change of my smallclothes.”
“So, would you like our help, Pembruh?” Derek asked.
There was no hesitation. “We would very much be grateful to have you for allies, and if your contributions to battle mean that we succeed, we would be indebted to you.”
“How about it, General?” The Hood looked up at Sean.
General Vox was silent for several moments, and everyone else kept quiet as he gathered his thoughts. The metahuman looked around the cavernous theater, and again at the amazing collection of faeries before him. After another few moments, he spoke. “May I speak privately with the Deschin and her Pembruh?”
When the sprye and and vampyre had followed him away from the group, Sean took a deep breath, keeping his voice low. “Pembruh Meshra, Deschin Brevha. If we agree to help you rescue Queen Kelli’s father, I have conditions that must be met.
“Firstly, my people, including those you took prisoner, will be returned home regardless of this mission’s outcome. This is not negotiable.
“Secondly, during this mission, we will be a co-equal branch of your forces. No one directs us to do anything. We will observe operations until you request an action. You will advise me of your objectives, and I will decide whether to deploy my troops, and how they will be deployed.
“Third, I believe it would benefit us both to establish some kind of liaison following the end of the mission, a way for our people to learn more about each other, and perhaps discover mutual interests.
“If you find this acceptable, then I will agree to commit our resources to recovering your queen’s father.”
Brevha offered a friendly smile to Sean. “I am agreeable to your conditions, General,” she looked then at Meshra, “if the war council does not object?”
Meshra nodded. “I believe under the circumstances, his ‘co-equal branch’, as he terms it, would be the wisest way to join our forces together. So, Master Hood,” Meshra turned and called out to Derek. “It looks like we have an alliance. What is your plan for winning this war for us once and for all?”
« CHAPTER 20 »
A Plan Comes Together
“Well,” Derek replied, moving to the front of the stage and turning to address everyone, “there’s still details that need to be worked out. But the biggest change to your original plan is that the humans,” he pointed toward the line of VT-4s and dark-armored soldiers, “won’t be going into the Shadowlands. They’ll head to Matari, blasting some holes in that wall for you, and then covering you with long range attacks. Snipers, artillery, whatever the situation calls for.
“When the Goblin King shows, we’ll need a squad from your group, General Vox. This sounds weird, but faeries cannot approach the Goblin King, not even his own troops. He literally absorbs their life force and kills them.”
“What, just by standing next to ‘em?” Marc asked.
“Pretty much, yeah. I know it makes no sense, but consider how many things in this castle have made sense to you so far. Anyway, we need to get Incerra into the hands of one of our faery allies so they can break his control of it. Humans are immune to his cheat code, so we’re the best chance to get up close and steal the dagger from him. That doesn’t mean he’s a pushover, so the faeries need to brief you on his strengths. Lumina has some valuable experience, obviously.
“Meanwhile, a small rescue team will fly with the Paladins in their transport toward Gedaschen. We’ll keep to altitude so that Undine can hide us from detection until we reach the mountains. I’m still working on that with her. But once we’re across the border, we’ll wait until we get word that the Goblin King’s taken the bait, and then we land somewhere on the slopes past the Goblin King’s wards, and find a way to get into his castle.
“I’ll be on that team, and unless there are objections, I think those three,” he pointed at Graon, Kassak and Nim, “have proven they can handle impossible missions. Ideally, I’d only like to include one or two more people on the team at most, but I’ll let the war council advise me further on that.
“Once we accomplish either of the main objectives –getting the dagger, or rescuing Mr. Ingram— I’d ask the General to unleash his troops and wipe out the enemy before they have a chance to adapt to human warfare.” Derek waited several moments as the faeries murmured at that. They seemed to be both hopeful and doubtful despite the rocket attack they’d all witnessed. “Meshra, we’d rely on you to make sure the slaves are recovered and kept out of the fighting-”
“Many of them would probably join the fighting if we reach that point,” Meshra interjected. Heads nodded among the war council. “But, there are two problems you have not yet addressed. First, your plan requires coordination across great distance. How will the rescue team and the main army know when either objective is successful? Can you mindspeak?”
Derek looked at Lumina. “We’re covered on that front, right?”
Lumina nodded. “If one of us remains with the army, we can communicate with the team in the Ripwinger.”
“You humans are as fearsome as the legends claim,” Meshra said.
“Who’s Undine?” Sean asked.
Crap, Derek frowned. “Another ally. I’ll be working with her on the rescue team.” The expression on Sean’s face told Derek that his dodgy answer had only heightened the General’s curiosit
y. But Sean let the matter drop. Derek salvaged the moment by looking again to Meshra. “What was your second concern?”
“The same problem we had with the previous plan, rescue team itself. Have you seen this castle, Master Hood? Assuming Gedaschen is similar in size, you could wander its halls for days and never find a hint of where the queen’s father is being held. With even less people to help search, how do you propose to go about your mission without being discovered?”
“I actually had not overlooked that, but it is one of the details I need your,” he waved his hand to encompass the entire group, “help to figure out. There’s no way to prepare one hundred percent for anything we’re planning to do, but I’m confident with a little more collaboration we can mitigate enough of the risks to make this doable. Ugh, that had way too many corporate buzzwords in it, sorry. Look at it this way, we’re painting a masterpiece here, Pembruh. I can lay the foundation using all the primary colors this alliance has provided, but all of us need to come together and add our own fine strokes to the canvas. We can do this.”
“You are very confident,” Brevha said. “Even with the unprecedented cooperation between us and the humans, this venture is fraught with dangers we cannot even imagine. How is it you are so sure of our success?” Brevha did not seem doubtful; Derek suspected she was gauging him… his expectations, or sincerity, or something.
“I’ve only known Kelli a short time, but she’s managed to become one of my closest friends.” Derek crossed his arms. “Even if I had to do this alone, I’d find a way to get Mr. Ingram back and cause that goblin worlds of pain for doing what he did.” He spread his arms wide. “But with all of this skill and firepower to help me? There’s no way we can fail. Trust me.”
Somehow, the Hood’s speech, which should have sounded like empty bravado, managed to embolden the faeries. Even the humans were halfway convinced. The Paladin Bartley looked over at Lumina, who nodded back, subtly pointing at the Hood. So this is the one Lumina suspects of being a Khorev.
Derek walked over to Meshra and his sprite compatriot, Serann. “So, Pembruh, for the rescue team, do you think we can get away with just five or six people infiltrating Gedaschen?”
Graon and his rangers had moved closer to the Hood by this time, and Nim raised his hand. “If I might offer a suggestion, Pembruh, Master Hood?”
“Of course, weaponsmaster,” Meshra nodded.
“Weaponsmaster?” Derek asked.
Pembruh gestured toward Nim. “Master Nim holds one of the highest battleranks in the sprite armies. A weaponsmaster is a dedicated warrior who has proven themselves beyond peer with any weapon placed in their hand. Nim, son of Nauvin, is worth any hundred soldiers on the battlefield.”
“That sounds pretty badass,” Derek agreed, appraising the old elf anew.
“Which is why,” Nim said, “if we’re lookin’ for volunteers, I’d like to see if we can find Jezrimeli Addican.”
Meshra sighed. “I’m afraid no one has heard from the zerivade since the last trollkin war, my friend.”
“I think I know where she is,” Nim answered.
“Where?”
“South Cross.”
“A zerivade would indeed make a valuable member of the rescue team,” Meshra agreed.
“What’s a zerah-vaid?” Derek asked.
“A warrior who earns the zerivade battlerank has reached the peak of martial skill,” Meshra explained.
“Zerivade don’t need a weapon to kill someone like me, or even him,” Nim added, thumbing at Sean. “Handy ally to have around when you’re outnumbered a thousand to one. Jezzy wouldn’t guarantee our success, but she’d bring our odds of surviving up quite a bit.”
“Why would she be at South Cross?” Meshra asked.
“I don’t know for sure it’s her,” Nim shrugged. “But on our journey to Master Krin Ahgl’s castle, I caught sight of a banner that looked like her crest, outside a yurt in the Klossun village. I thought maybe it was hers, but kinda had too much going on to wonder about it at the time.”
“Who is this zerivade,” Derek asked, “and what do you mean about her banner?”
“Jezrimeli is an unnamed. A sprite born of a dishonored family.”
“Unnamed? Then how is her name Jez-rimmel-lee Addican?”
Meshra shook his head. “An unnamed sprite is one who has committed a crime so severe, they lose their family name and crest.” He looked up at Serann. “If my friend here, Serann Ozramin, were to be convicted of murder, he would be declared an unnamed. The kingdom would no longer recognize him as a member of House Ozramin. He would be cast out of Windham and made a pariah, and his wife and children would share the punishment. Jezrimeli was one of these; ‘Addican’ is not a real name, her family fabricated it after their banishment.”
“That sounds pretty harsh, punishing the kids,” Derek said. Meshra shrugged, unwilling to criticize anything about the sprites.
The sprite Serann, who’d been silent this whole time, finally spoke. “The zerivade’s parents are rarities among my people. They are ill-tempered, unconcerned with rule of law, and remorseless. They possess a grotesque sense of self-entitlement not seen in any other living sprite.”
“What did they do?” Derek asked him.
“When they were still members of House Girwey, several of their servants were killed in an accident. The investigation revealed the accident was purely due to their negligence, and they attempted to shift blame, tamper with evidence, and interfere with the shi’un that finally exposed the truth.”
“Jezzy isn’t fond of the royal families,” Nim agreed. “She trained and fought for centuries, earning the rank of zerivade mainly to stick it in their eye. Even an unnamed gets acknowledged when they have skills like hers. You won’t meet many people with her single-minded dedication, and dragons help you if you anger her. That sprye knows how to hold a grudge.”
“Again,” Serann added, “an intolerable defect in a sprite.”
“So, number one,” Derek said, “how do you know her, and number two, if she doesn’t like royals, why would she help Kel—uh, the queen?”
“My people, the vyzen, were at war with several troll clans many decades ago. Jezzy showed up and fought the trolls with us, just because she could. She and I were the highest rankers in the war, and while we didn’t often fight together, we did a whole lotta’ drinking together.”
“But you didn’t fight together?”
“Made more sense for us to use our skills in two different places at once. As for the royal question, she’d have no interest in doing favors for the queen, but I’d be willing to bet she’ll find the idea of walking into Gedaschen so wyrm-humping brazen that she’ll beg to come along.”
“If she’s in this South Cross place, how long would it take to get there and find her?”
“The sprites could probably open an ethergate to the South Cross temple,” Meshra began, looking at Serann.
Serann sighed. “I have no fondness for the Addican child. But yes, we could send someone to South Cross to try and recruit her.”
“But we can only get inside the temple if the Klossun tribe lets us,” Nim said. “I don’t know how they feel about unannounced visitors, though they’d probably remember the three of us,” he motioned at Graon and Kassak.
“Four,” Lumina said, striding up. “I believe I can be of assistance during this rescue, and I have already vowed to so.” He looked at the elves, who all grinned up at him. “It seems our quest is not yet finished, my friends.”
“You could probably use one more from my team, too,” Marc said, joining them. “The General is asking permission for her to come along.”
“The metahuman woman?” Derek asked.
Marc nodded. “Good guess. Provided the faeries allow it, she alone would increase your options in pretty much any situation you stumble into.”
Derek looked over at Sean, who was speaking with Brevha and a few of the mystics.
“I’m afraid there cannot be any more
ethergates to your world today,” Brevha told Sean, looking down at the mystics. “It required a great deal of magic from the mystic council, and it will be some time before they regain enough strength to open another.”
Sean raised an eyebrow. “I hope that means you’ll have your strength back by the time our business here is concluded?”
“Of that we can assure you, General,” Brevha replied.
Sean nodded. “Back to the topic at hand, then. What if she could get here on her own?” Sean asked.
One of the mystics shuffled his feet. “That would be alarming,” he admitted.
“You are speaking of the soldier who snuck into our castle earlier?” Brevha asked.
Sean nodded. “My sister has some special talents. But I will only ask her to come here if you permit it.”
“Sister?” Brevha and the mystics traded knowing looks. A jimani in command of magic could arguably cast spells unfamiliar to any faery. “I see. You believe she would be that valuable to the rescue efffort?”
“I can personally guarantee,” he answered, “that whatever odds you place on the rescue team’s success, her involvement would double it. Now that we’ve committed ourselves to your mission, I intend to make sure we succeed as quickly as possible so we can all get home and process the fact that our childhood fairy tales are real. And I imagine your prince is anxious not to spend more time than necessary in our custody.”
“Very well,” Brevha nodded. Silently mindspeaking with the mystics, they agreed to focus on the jimani magic to try and learn what they could of her ability to penetrate their shields. Aloud, she said, “If your sister is able to travel here by her own power, I will permit it.”
Sean nodded back, and mimicking Marc from earlier, pressed two fingers to his temple. “Okay, Flashback. You’re authorized to teleport to my location.”
An eyeblink later, Samantha Vox flashed into place beside her brother, with little firefly-like lights rising and fading from her teleportation field. She was suited and armed as she’d been when visiting Marc in his detention room. She stood at attention and saluted the General. “Flashback, reporting for duty, Sir!”
