The Queen's Quarry

by Frank Morin

Verena struck half a heartbeat later. She threw the knife she’d held close to her side. It plunged into Dougal’s eye.

  Kilian reached him at about the same time and punched him in the center of the chest. Dougal exploded. His body ruptured, spraying blood and gore and flesh back across the snowy ground. He simply ceased to exist.

  Diorite was a really fast, but really gruesome death.

  Mattias convulsed on the ground, oblivious that the man who had held him prisoner was gone. His hands and feet twitched, head rattling against the earth. His eyes stared blindly up at the sky, mouth wide in a silent scream.

  Verena dropped to her knees beside him, clutching his head. “Mattias! Mattias, are you all right?”

  He kept convulsing.

  Connor crouched on his other side and tapped the sandstone pendant, then directed the healing power into Mattias’s head. At the same time, he tapped chert and focused on Mattias’s mind.

  It was broken. Not a vacant, blasted crater like Aifric after the queen struck her down, but shattered like a glass vase dropped onto a stone floor.

  Connor recoiled and met Verena’s eyes. He couldn’t keep the horror of what he found in there from his expression.

  “Oh, no. Not like this,” she moaned, tears flowing down her cheeks.

  Mattias mumbled as he twitched, and Connor focused on his fractured mind, clinging to the hope that he might find some unbroken core still intact that he could attempt to rebuild.

  He found only one coherent thought. As soon as he touched it, Mattias shouted the words. “I killed Dougal. Verena, I killed Dougal for you.”

  Verena smiled sadly down at him, her right hand pressed to his cheek and said softly, “You should have let us deal with it, you big idiot. We could have saved you.” She looked at Connor again. “Please, don’t let him die like this. Help him.”

  He couldn’t speak the words to describe the utter destruction he felt in there. He also couldn’t deny Verena. He again bent his will to Mattias. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as he first feared.

  It was worse.

  Dougal hadn’t killed Mattias outright, but the damage was so severe, the broken pieces of his mind were collapsing, his bodily functions shutting down. Connor tried seizing those pieces with sandstone, tried fusing them together with chert like he had with Aifric, but he didn’t understand what he was doing and he couldn’t stem the tide.

  Eight seconds later, Mattias convulsed violently, then lay still.

  “Connor?” Verena asked in a soft, fearful voice. She looked like she understood what had happened, but didn’t want to believe it.

  Connor didn’t want to say it either. He had felt Mattias slip away, had been linked to those broken shards of his mind when they faded. For a second, he’d felt something stir, and he decided that must have been Mattias’s spirit departing. Feeling death so intimately shook him, and he felt crushed by grief.

  He forced himself to meet Verena’s gaze and said softly, “I’m so sorry. He’s gone.”

  Her anguish turned to anger and she shouted, “Why didn’t he run? Why didn’t you do something else? We could have saved him!”

  The words cut him deeply, but not as much as the anger in her teary eyes. He couldn’t bear it. “I was trying to distract Dougal. I’m sorry. I—”

  “You never think, Connor! Do you suppose you can make things up at the last second and everything will just work out? You can’t play with lives like that!”

  Connor recoiled from her anger, all of his fears of maybe losing Verena thundering back into him. Part of him wanted to defend himself, to point out that he’d freed Mattias, but Mattias had attacked and drew Dougal’s attention again. He could hurt her as much as she was hurting him.

  No, that was the last thing he wanted. That’s what they’d done at Altkalen and they’d nearly wrecked their future.

  “Verena—”

  “You wanted him to die, didn’t you?” she shrieked.

  “Of course not. You know me better than that.” Connor felt only grief for Mattias. He’d been mostly a good person, and in time he would have probably accepted Verena’s choice. He’d died helping them strike down High Lord Dougal. Maybe he could have chosen a different course, but at least he would be remembered as a hero.

  Tears coursed down her cheeks, but he held her gaze and tapped chert. The link snapped into place far stronger than he expected. He felt her anger and her overwhelming grief, understood in a heartbeat that she was only lashing out because she didn’t want to accept the facts.

  His thoughts also touched her. He could see it in the look of surprise on her face that broke her anger.

  “Oh, Connor. I’m so sorry,” she sobbed, flinging herself into his arms.

  He dropped chert, not wanting her to think he was trying to influence her, or spy on her. He held her as she sobbed and simply focused on comforting her. She’d lost a dear friend.

  But they’d finally killed High Lord Dougal.

  That thought helped turn his own grief. Losing Mattias was a high price to pay for that victory, but it was still a great victory.

  Kilian placed a comforting hand on Verena’s shoulder. “Do not lay blame on anyone but Dougal. We lack time to properly grieve Mattias now. Connor, you and I must return to finish Harley.”

  “But she’s dead. I defeated her,” Connor protested.

  Ivor said, “She broke free somehow. Hamish sent word. I thought he broadcast that to everyone.”

  Connor exchanged a surprised look with Verena, suddenly terrified anew. He couldn’t imagine how she could have escaped. He’d been convinced she was finally dead. Hamish was in terrible danger, and it was Connor’s fault.

  Verena said, “We were kind of busy, but how did we miss that?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Kilian said. “Hamish and Ilse need our help. Ivor, take Verena with you. Support Rory’s efforts. Connor and I will deal with Harley.”

  Ivor nodded. “Come on, Verena. We have an entire army to deal with still.”

  She straightened and nodded, sniffling back tears. She kissed Connor briefly, fiercely. “I’m sorry, Connor. Be safe and kill that woman.”

  “I swear it. We’ll both be fine, remember?”

  She smiled through her tears and jogged off with Ivor.

  Kilian turned toward the bridge and the far bank. “Focus, Connor. Hamish and Ilse are in mortal danger. Pray we’re not too late.”

  Connor had spent much of the energy he’d stolen from the people of Merkland, but he swore that he still had enough to finally destroy that cursed woman.

  He would not allow Harley to kill another friend.

  “Let’s kill her this time,” he said.

  Together they blasted off the ground, driven into the air by white-hot fire.

  97

  Just When You Thought You Knew What Shona Was Going to Do Next . . .

  “Speak to me,” Shona demanded.

  She stood just forward of the mid-point of her army, surrounded by her personal guard and by seven high officers, responsible for coordinating the entire mighty host.

  Her Pathfinder commander, a severe woman with piercing gray eyes named Bethia said, “Three thousand troops, including a large percentage of our remaining tertiaries broke off from the main army and are moving against Merkland under the command of Captain Aonghus, as planned.”

  As if anything was going according to plan. That force would supposedly circle around whatever fighting Harley was doing and take the city. Reports were confused as to what exactly Harley was doing, or what had happened to Shona’s father and the force he’d led across the river.

  That left her to deal with the surprise attack that seemed to be devastating their rear and flanks.

  “Does no one have a clear idea what is going on?” she demanded. Every report they received seemed to contradict the last.

  Some claimed only a small army of Boulders and support troops had driven deep into the left flank. Others reported the river bursting its banks and swallowing thou
sands of troops, despite everything the Spitters tried to do to stop it. Still others reported hundreds of troops surrendering and Builder mechanicals exploding through the ranks of the army.

  Those were the ones that almost made sense. Others suggested the Blood of the Tallan was leading the charge, and that Connor was somehow a woman. According to Bethia, many officers had defected to Rory or were ordering surrender. It didn’t make any sense. The army had seemed so strong, so united. She’d never seen such a cohesion of purpose.

  As her commanders began arguing about the conflicting reports, she waved them to silence. “That’s all useless. We’ll have to go find out for ourselves.”

  Shona headed south, with all of her senior commanders and a protective detail of Blades and Boulders in tow.

  “All captains report to me directly. No orders are to be given except face to face. Relay those commands individually to every officer you can contact,” she ordered.

  Her Strider commander grimaced. “That’ll take precious time, my lady.”

  “Do it. Our communication lines are suspect. I need order, commander.”

  He rushed off with his Strider corps and Shona pressed through the ranks of soldiers, peering south through the storm, trying to understand her enemy.

  Commander Bethia suddenly pulled her to a halt. “Lady Shona, I just received a report from a captain across the river. The incursion force there is falling back. They suffered major casualties.” She hesitated, her face turning as pale as the still-blowing snow. She added in a voice that trembled with shock. “They report your father fell in battle against Kilian and the Blood of the Tallan.”

  Shona had thought herself well-prepared for that eventuality, but the news seemed to punch her right in the heart. Tears welled in her eyes, but she fought them back. She’d known he might die. Despite the queen’s secret gift, the in-person confrontation was fraught with danger.

  “Do you believe the report?” she demanded, barely daring to breathe as she held onto the hope that they were receiving yet another bogus report.

  Bethia nodded. “Nothing seems sure tonight, but I know the Pathfinder who called in that report. I believe it.”

  So her father was dead. Probably.

  The news was like a crushing weight on her mind. She suddenly felt like her entire world had shifted subtly, the solid foundation of her life now gone, leaving her feeling exposed and vulnerable. She drew in a long, shuddering breath and closed her eyes for a moment, shutting out the chaos of sound echoing from the battlefield to the south. Her father was dead.

  She no longer had parents to guide her, to tell her what to do. But she was the high lady of her father’s realm and rightful ruler of Merkland. Everyone in the army depended upon her for direction and survival. She now needed to decide the fate of so many lives, and the course of her own future. The weight of responsibility settled on her shoulders like a heavy, mail coat.

  She’d wielded power and authority all her life, had trained for years for this moment. She would not fail, would not show weakness.

  Shona opened her eyes and said, “Keep me informed of progress on all fronts.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Bethia saluted with new respect.

  “Can no one push this storm back so I can see?” she demanded, glancing back at her Spitter captain, a long-time veteran who had spent too much time in his office in recent years. His large belly and long white beard gave him a jolly look most of the time, but at the moment he looked rattled.

  “We can’t, my lady. There’s too many conflicting fingers in the air, so to speak. Besides, we’re too focused on trying to block whoever’s controlling the river.”

  “I bet it’s Ivor,” she muttered. That made the Spitter captain look even more nervous. Well, knowing the truth, however difficult, was better than guessing.

  She hated that she had to guess about everything else, but tried to apply what she knew. If both Connor and Kilian were spotted fighting her father, who then was attacking their rear?

  After pushing through another column of heavily-armed regulars, Shona finally drew close to the heart of the fighting. Hundreds of Boulders were locked in furious battle across the road. The snow had been trampled to mud, and all the combatants were covered with it. She couldn’t tell who was who, and wondered if they could.

  Probably not. Not that Boulders would let that trouble them much. They were enjoying one of the best bash fights she’d ever seen, and the granite part of her yearned to leap into the middle of the fray and pit her strength against all others.

  As she drew closer, followed by her high commanders, a pair of Boulders bashed through a line of fighters and trotted in her direction.

  Even beneath the layer of mud and grime, she immediately recognized them.

  Tomas and Cameron.

  The sight of them gave her pause. This really was a pitched battle between Rory’s revolutionary forces and her army. That was an annoying thought. They should all be her army.

  Her Sentry and Firetongue commanders stepped in front of her, but she waved them back. “I’ll deal with this.”

  Tomas and Cameron trotted up to Shona and saluted together. “Beggin’ your pardon, my lady, but seeing as you haven’t surrendered yet, we’ll have to shackle you now.”

  “You insolent dogs,” the Firetongue exclaimed, crimson flames erupting around his hands.

  “I told you to stand down,” Shona snapped. She faced the two Fast Rollers who she knew so well, and couldn’t suppress a smile at their boldness. They also offered possibly the best opportunity to put an end to the chaos and resolve this mess.

  She spoke with all her regal authority. “Shackles will not be needed. Take me to General Rory.”

  Tomas sighed. “That opportunity was just too good to come true, I guess.”

  Cameron agreed. “You’d think revolution would make things simpler, not more confusing.”

  Bethia said, “My lady, what are you thinking?”

  “I’m thinking it’s time to stop this foolishness before it goes too far.”

  “Shall we send in reinforcements?” the Firetongue asked, gesturing at the nearby fighting.

  “Don’t bother. No one’s had this good a bash fight in years. Let them have it. Wait here and try to keep anyone from doing anything too stupid. I’ll return shortly.”

  Then Shona urged Tomas and Cameron toward the line of fighting. “Stop dawdling. I need to speak with Rory immediately. Haven’t you noticed there’s a battle on?”

  “Of course we have. We started it,” Tomas said proudly.

  “Well I’m going to finish it.”

  Cameron grunted. “Leave it to Lady Shona to take all the credit for all our hard work.”

  98

  Freaky Baby Demon Child of Doom

  As Connor shot across the river toward where he’d left Harley imprisoned in that burning ice tomb, he rose high enough to see Merkland atop the bluff. He noticed several things at once. First, a large force of several thousand soldiers from Dougal’s army was charging the Army Gate.

  Second, the gate was open. Third, the entire western half of the city was overrun by intense fighting. Fourth, the groups fighting in the city were all revolutionary forces.

  Someone had betrayed the revolution. Merkland was heavily embattled, and could be overrun. The thought infuriated Connor. He hadn’t worked so hard to save the city for someone to waste all those lives through some secret plot. He’d find out who was responsible, and maybe he’d let the rampager out to deal with them.

  But as Connor descended toward where he’d left Hamish, suddenly none of that mattered. He spotted Ilse first. She was lying prone, one hundred feet in the air, beating futilely against the unyielding air that held her prisoner.

  Hamish’s Juggernaut was pinned in place by the enormous, snakelike mini-elfonnel. The summoned monster held the giant armored sphere in its jaws, and some of the outer plates had crumpled under the pressure.

  Harley had just reached the Juggernaut, but Conn
or frowned as he studied her with Pathfinder eyes. She looked much smaller, a skeletal figure no bigger than a bald youth. She wore only a concealing layer of dark earth. She crouched over a steel plate and heaved, straining mightily for three seconds before ripping it free. She tossed it aside, then crouched and stepped inside.

  Connor’s pulse raced with fear and he tried to accelerate. He wouldn’t arrive for three or four more seconds, though. She could rip out Hamish’s heart as easily as she had ripped off that steel plate long before Connor could help.

  He twisted the mini-hub to Hamish’s speakstone and shouted, “Hamish, are you alive?”

  The top plate of the Juggernaut burst free with a gush of air and Hamish erupted up through the gap, every one of his thrusters firing at max power.

  Harley’s bellowed curse chased him into the sky, and the mini-elfonnel released the Juggernaut, turning to follow.

  “Stay back!” Hamish shouted over the speakstone.

  The Juggernaut suddenly glowed with white-gold lightning, then every plate burst free, releasing an enormous firebomb. The mini-elfonnel shredded under the onslaught of steel, quickened granite, and incandescent fire. The thunderclap shook the air, knocking snow sideways for a couple seconds, and sent Connor tumbling backward before he could tap quartzite and split the blast around himself.

  Kilian passed him in that second, plunging into the firestorm. Connor seized some of the flames and pulled against them to slingshot himself after Kilian. Together they landed in the blasted crater where the Juggernaut had stood.

  Harley was gone.

  Connor muttered a curse, then coughed at the acrid smoke hanging thick over the crater. Kilian swept it aside under a spray of billowing mist while Connor tapped granite, questing into the ground for Harley.

  He heard her before he felt her. The high-pitched scream, sounding like a child’s shriek, began wailing from about thirty yards away.

  “That doesn’t sound like Harley,” Kilian muttered, rising again on a pillar of fire to see better.

  Connor followed, and grimaced at the sight. Harley’s youth-sized body lay on the ground, broken and blackened, its chest a gaping hole, its sightless eyes filled with black earth. The limbs and visible skin was all smoking, and looked to be melting into a puddle of sludge.