by Frank Morin
“Connor!” Ilse shouted through another angry snarl.
Good thing he hadn’t settled on a plan yet, because he never could have planned for the ten spikes of earth erupting out of the ground. They shot into the air from all sides, all aimed at Lukas.
Connor reacted on pure instinct. He switched to marble. The flame-haired youth appeared in his mind, and Connor tackled him. He couldn’t afford a timid connection now. He seized the flames and yanked hard.
Fire burst out of thin air, surrounding Lukas with a twirling, round cage of sword-like flames. As the earthen spikes drove up toward him, Connor spun the cage violently, scything across each one.
Both Ivor and Kilian were already drawing upon water, so he let them have it. Despite his lingering fear of failure, he dared tap quartzite.
She appeared, hovering nearby, and he grabbed her hand before she could flit out of reach. Instantly he tasted the gusting north wind. He gave it a sharp tug, and one strong current whipped around and caught his fiery cage, fanning the flames and lifting Lukas higher, giving him a few more precious seconds.
That was all he was going to get. The next wave of green-frequency power inundated both Fire and Air and severed both connections. His flame cage winked out, leaving Lukas tumbling helplessly.
The ground rumbled, cracking the road and shivering snow into the air. Ilse snarled, “You cannot have him,” and plunged her hands down through the supporting pillars, driving them into the earth.
“Cheater!” Harley’s voice boomed. “I will squash the life out of your man!”
No matter Ilse’s determination, she could never stop whatever devilry Harley was intending.
Connor couldn’t feel any of the elements, so he tapped limestone. The light all across the valley appeared streaming past in distinct layers. He gave them a savage twist.
“Aifric, I need death cries,” he hissed. “Kilian, pull him into the river!”
At that moment, a ten-foot-thick trunk of earth erupted out of the ground and reared high toward the falling Lukas. The hideous head of an earth-bound elfonnel formed at the tip, and the enormous jaws gaped open, revealing stalactite teeth and several snakelike tongues that snapped out and seized Lukas by the arms and legs. Those horrible tongues yanked him, struggling and screaming, into the maw.
It crunched closed in a spray of blood and gore.
The enormous, snakelike creation trumpeted in victory, then sank back into the ground with an ominous rumbling of earth.
Ilse fell to her knees, hands still buried in the earth, screaming with rage and grief. Fat flakes of crimson snow fell over the road, stained by Lukas’s life blood.
Harley’s voice boomed across the valley again. “That concludes today’s lesson. Think tonight on how badly you really want to share that fate. Tomorrow you join me or join your beloved.”
Connor shouted angrily back at her, “You’re a cheat and a coward, Harley! Shona, leave now or tomorrow you die with Harley and your father!”
Harley’s evil thunder-laughter boomed across the valley as her tower slid south, back toward her army.
Ilse turned to Connor, her eyes mad with grief and fury.
He winked.
She blinked at him, confused and angry. He dropped to his knees and hugged her. “Aifric, use that new tertiary of yours and create a shielding wind for us, please.”
“Of course.” Immediately wind began whistling around them. Hopefully it was enough to block Harley’s ability to eavesdrop.
“That was my best mirage ever,” Connor said with well-deserved pride.
Ilse frowned through tears, and the flicker of impossible hope lit in her eyes. “Connor, now is not the time to be vague.”
He leaned close and whispered, “Lukas is in the river with Ivor.”
“How?” she stammered, looking toward the placid waters that showed no signs of any recent disturbance.
“Mirage.” The others knelt beside them and Connor grinned at Kilian and Aifric. “I’m so glad you two didn’t hesitate, or it never would have worked.”
“You’re lucky you have friends who can think fast on their feet,” Kilian said with a smile.
Aifric said, “If I didn’t know you were manufacturing those images, I would have believed them.”
“That death scream was perfect,” Connor congratulated her.
“I can always be counted on for a good scream.”
“How?” Ilse asked again, laughing through her tears.
Kilian said, “I yanked Lukas to the river and Ivor sucked him down. Connor slapped a mirage on the scene, changing it so that everyone saw Lukas get eaten instead. Harley struck with such overwhelming force, I doubt she noticed the lack of resistance.
Ilse hugged Connor and he was astonished to feel her arms shaking. She clung to him and sobbed. Just once, but it wracked her entire body.
He held her, not sure how to react. Ilse was not supposed to feel emotion, was not supposed to feel cowed by any challenge, no matter how difficult. She was the unflappable, undefeatable, clever Sapper. She wasn’t supposed to be a woman too.
So he held her as she took a long, shuddering breath, then pushed away, her expression calm and in control once more.
He said, “You’re getting sloppy, Ilse. I expected you to hold her off for at least fifty more steps.”
She laughed, the last of her tension draining. “Keep talking like that and I’ll have Erich and Anika beat you with another tree.”
“You say the nicest things.” He helped her to her feet.
Then the Swift swooped low and settled into a hover. Verena shouted, “What are you waiting for? We have to go after her!”
Connor ran to her and explained the ruse while Kilian informed Hamish, who was apparently racing toward the windrider hovering high above with his Juggernaut armor inside.
“So Lukas is still alive?” Verena asked.
Connor nodded, happy she hadn’t swooped in to attack Harley on her own. That would have wrecked their little victory.
Verena sighed with relief and wiped her eyes. Then she glanced at Connor with new danger in her gaze. “So why did you feel the need to warn Shona away? I’m looking forward to killing her tomorrow.”
77
Speedslings and Speculation
Thankfully Verena didn’t mention Shona again when they returned to Merkland, and Connor made a point of trying to not even think about her. He still couldn’t help worrying that if things went poorly, she and Verena would finally get the duel they’d both been so eager for.
Verena had only just returned to him. He hated the thought of her involved in any direct fighting. He didn’t think he could handle losing her.
If only Shona would leave them alone, he wouldn’t wish her harm. His relationship with her was so complex, the only thing he knew for sure about Shona was that he never understood her and never would. Now that he’d broken off contact, there was no further reason to quarrel, was there?
The rest of the day passed in a blur of frantic activity as the city prepared for siege. Many of the lesser nobility and merchants fled, taking the chance that if Merkland fell, High Lord Dougal would sate his anger on the fools who remained, and spare the rest of them.
Sentries peeled back the ground over one of the practice fields, revealing enormous doors to two huge underground bunkers. They held the city’s arsenal of siege weapons. Giant catapults and deadly ballistae rumbled up long, wooden ramps into positions flanking the huge gates.
Connor grimaced when he inspected the iron shot that would be fired from the catapults. Formed like spike-tipped, little pyramids, they’d no doubt inflict severe damage on anyone not protected by granite-hardened skin. Even Boulders might fall if struck in the face.
Worse, when the projectiles fell to the ground, their construction guaranteed one of the spikes would always point up. They’d create deadly tripping hazards and threaten to impale the feet of charging soldiers. Since they were metal instead of stone, Sentries would not feel thei
r approach.
The ballistae hoisted onto platforms atop the wall were like giant crossbows. They fired spears thicker than Connor’s forearms, capped with deadly steel tips. The soldier in charge of one of the siege weapons assured Connor those spears could punch right through half a dozen armored knights or a single max-tapped Boulder.
“If they get this close, they’ll wish they hadn’t,” he said simply.
Connor appreciated his optimism, but if the attacking army got to the walls, that meant their plans had failed miserably and he doubted a few siege weapons would hold back the tide for long.
Connor was impressed that Lord Logan insisted on remaining in Merkland. The young lord shrugged when Rory questioned why he would risk so much to help Guardians and said, “My Lord Dougal will know I supported your effort. Even if I leave now, I’d never escape punishment. He always treated me like a lesser lord anyway. Now is the time to take a stand.”
Lord Nevan’s insistence on remaining also surprised Connor. Nevan said stubbornly, “Merkland is my city. Lady Shona herself appointed me administrator and I’ll spit in the Tallan’s eye before abandoning my post.”
“Even though she’s returning with an army to kick us all out?” Rory asked.
“Even so. Some things are right, and some things are wrong, and sometimes we have to take sides.”
So of course Lord Torcall felt pressured to stay too, even though he didn’t make any bold speeches, and looked increasingly sick as the afternoon wore on.
Although badly hurt, Lukas survived. Ilse stayed by his side in the hospital while Healers worked on him. She looked so happy gripping his hand that Connor didn’t have the heart to even tease her about acting so un-deadly-captainish.
Rory and Ivor met in council with all of their senior officers. Anika refused to leave Rory’s side. Jean spent time in the hospital wing, and Connor gave up trying to figure out where Aifric got to.
So he helped Verena, Hamish, and Dierk unpack the windriders. Erich assisted too, overseeing the mixed company of Grandurian and Obrioner soldiers assigned to the effort.
They distributed nearly one hundred speedslings, splitting them between the various forces tasked with sallying forth against the enemy and those assigned to defend the walls. They supplemented the stores of projectiles for the catapults with diorite bombs.
Dierk pointed to bits of obsidian worked into the plugs sealing the bombs closed. “Remote activation. Any of us Builders can quicken the bombs just before they’re needed.”
That would also help prevent theft by troops secretly loyal to Dougal who might want to sabotage their efforts. That was a very real risk, although Rory didn’t like to admit it. They had no way of proving their troops’ loyalty before the moment of battle.
When Connor mentioned his worries to Verena she said, “This battle is the test of their loyalty, Connor. This is a revolution so no one’s tested until they are.”
“That’s a really big help,” he grumbled.
So she kissed him. That did help.
As he poured hundreds of deadly hornets into one of the speedsling drums, he wondered how the fledgling revolutionary forces would do. Many were veterans of the invasion, but this fight would be very different. Hopefully they’d feel even more motivated by freedom than by conquest.
78
Justice Is Found in Strange Places
A messenger arrived, calling Connor to meet with Kilian. He left Verena and Hamish with half the mechanicals still to unload. Kilian and Ilse waited for him inside an enormous warehouse at the edge of the market district. Piles of clay were heaped on the stone floor. They smelled like they had only recently been dredged from the icy river. Five pallets of canvas sacks rested nearby. Connor’s father’s clean handwriting noted the weight on every one.
“Alasdair White? What are we going to do with so much?”
Those pallets represented months of work from the entire village. Standing beside them, Connor felt connected with his home in a way he hadn’t since Alasdair valley was buried under half a mile of rubble.
Kilian said, “One of Harley’s favorite tricks is unleashing a horde of summoned creatures during key moments of battle. From the reports we read, it sounds like Evander used that trick against her at the Carraig.”
Connor frowned. “How can they do that? It’s hard enough controlling one. Trying to control an army would leave her totally vulnerable.”
Kilian shook his head. “Not these creatures. One of the new abilities available after the second threshold is to create a summoned creature that can act autonomously, within strictly defined parameters.”
“Whoa! Really?”
Ilse also looked amazed. “You’ve been holding out on me, Kilian. I can think of a few times we really could have used that ability.”
“I’m sorry. The major drawback with this technique is the preparation time. We rarely seem to have that luxury.”
He added to Connor. “I have no doubt that Harley will hit us with an army of earthen creatures. She’ll point them at us and they’ll attack on their own, although she can seize control over individual creatures if it suits her. Usually it’s not necessary, though. They are incredibly effective and very deadly.”
Connor shuddered. He bet they were. He’d summoned creatures a few times and still marveled at the experiences. The thought of giving life to creatures that could destroy on command without needing specific direction scared him more than a little.
“What happens if they accidentally attack friendly troops?”
“It’s possible. They’re not thinking, intelligent creations, so they need to be aimed carefully. The trick is to unleash them only when the enemy is obvious.”
“Like at the start of a battle?”
“Or against a stubborn knot of resistance. She likes to divide her enemies and strike with her autonomous creatures through that confusion.”
“That makes it harder for us, since our whole plan depends on dividing her and Dougal.”
Kilian nodded. “If we can manage to separate her, we could expect an attack from any autonomous creatures she might still have in reserve.”
“Wonderful,” Connor said dryly.
“Better if we have our own army of creatures ready to counter hers,” Kilian said with a grin. Flames began billowing inside one of his eyes, and the other filled with miniature cresting waves.
Connor really needed to learn that trick. The effect was always striking. Those little nuances of style set Kilian apart from everyone.
Harley was even older, but she lacked his refinement. She was like an angry bear crashing through the woods, while Kilian was more like a wolf, slipping silently through the trees, closing on his prey with deadly stealth.
The problem was, wolves couldn’t usually take down a bear alone. Hopefully Connor could trip her up and expose her throat for Kilian to lunge in for the kill.
Ilse looked thoughtful. “So will this be similar to how we summoned that great stone pedra in Alasdair?”
Kilian nodded. “I cannot summon alone. I lack a granite affinity. You’ll provide that part, and I’ll craft the elemental portion. Connor, I’m hoping you can manage enough control to create your own summonings.”
“I’ll do my best,” he promised, eager to learn a technique that only a handful of the mightiest Petralists had ever mastered. Summoning a little squirrel, using the strength of granite to encase an elemental heart, was easy, but Kilian had grander plans.
“We’ll be summoning big, powerful creatures that can overwhelm Petralists and withstand Harley’s creatures.”
Connor asked, “How can we do that? Just summoning that stone pedra exhausted you, but now you’re talking about scores of monsters.”
“These types of summonings aren’t as tiring. We don’t need to worry about maintaining the link to our creations or actively controlling them. Autonomous creatures are far simpler. We design them with the ability to destroy. Period. Then they wait until we call upon them.”
&nb
sp; “Could you create some for other purposes besides war?” Connor asked.
“I’ve never heard of anyone doing so. They’re expensive in affinity stone and in Petralist energy. In most other circumstances they’re not considered worth the price. Why? What do you have in mind?”
Connor shrugged, thinking that if his little brother, Wallace, ever found out about this ability, he’d insist on a permanent summoned squirrel pet. He could never give him one created with the sole purpose of killing whatever Wallace pointed it at.
“I don’t know. It’s just sort of a shame we can’t use them for good. Like when those Boulders fell into that pit under the road near Altkalen and drowned. An autonomous creature fashioned with quartzite could have jumped in and given them air until they could be fished out, or a soapstone one might have been able to fish them out.”
Something like that could have saved fifty lives.
Kilian clapped him on the shoulder. “I like the way you think. If we survive tomorrow, let’s explore that idea.”
With that gentle reminder of the very deadly stakes they faced, they got to work. The early stages of the process were similar to what he knew. Connor absorbed huge quantities of precious Alasdair White, grateful that Merkland enjoyed a ready supply.
For the first attempt, he chose soapstone as the element that would give the creature life. With granite and pumice both active, he tapped soapstone. Water appeared, smiling and extending a hand mostly covered in red-only magic. Connor took it, hoping he was finally getting the hang of managing the weird dual power sources.
With focused care, he drew from a deep well behind the warehouse a barrel-sized globe of water and plunged it into the nearest pile of clay. As a muddy shape began to rise out of the pile and flow into the shape he held in his mind, Connor concentrated the granite into his chest and drove it out to the construct. Granite infused it with power, clay with bulk, and water with life.
