Impact of the Fallen: The White Mage Saga #4 (The Chronicles of Lumineia)

by Ben Hale

  Shrapnel and shattered tiles exploded upward, slamming into the nearest bats. One went down, mortally wounded. The others were reflected upward by the concussive force. Their huge claws extended, they narrowly missed grabbing the SEALs as they dropped onto the balcony.

  Without pausing for further orders the men hustled to the street below. Across the way, Duck's men did the same, and the entire team reached the cobblestone road in unison. Just moments ago it had been clogged with civilians, but without the SEALs fire, the Twisted had hemmed in the remaining civilians. The flood of refugees had slowed to a trickle. The SEALs joined them.

  Above them, the bats were decimating the overwatch teams, but Wolf only had eyes for the sea. At ten miles away it was too far to reach on foot. Their only choice was to get into the open and hope for extraction from a chopper. The streets behind them clogged with Twisted bounding in pursuit, but then the countdown reached zero.

  Twenty pounds of C4 and fifty claymores triggered simultaneously. Buildings, roads, and Twisted were incinerated in the massive fireball. Wolf ducked as a section of concrete grazed his head and skipped down the road. Dirt and debris rained down on them, clogging the air with dust.

  "Double time!" Wolf shouted.

  The team hustled down the street and passed the last wall of Rome. Vineyards spread out on either side of them while a small castle stood off to their right. The main highway that circled Rome intersected with their route just over a mile ahead. A scattering of abandoned cars rested on it, while the bulk of the civilians had made it past. In the distance a heavy throbbing sounded.

  "There's our ride," Duck huffed. "Popping smoke."

  He pulled a pin on an orange smoke grenade and tossed it in front of them. The blackhawk chopper banked toward them, roaring at top speed. Obviously wary of the bat swarms, the pilot hugged the deck, and only lifted to fly over the highway.

  "Let's just hope the bats don't—"

  "Don't say it!" Peterson bellowed at Wilson.

  "What?" Wilson shouted back.

  But a rising screech indicated they were coming. Peterson cursed at Wilson as Wolf ordered the SEALs to take cover. Wolf slid into an irrigation ditch just as the swarm rocketed over them. The volume from their leathery wings was deafening, overpowering the sound of the SEALs raspy breathing.

  The pilot banked hard as it fought to reverse its direction. Just as it came out of the turn over a hundred bats slammed into it. Two were shredded by the rotors, but the rotors were not built to withstand such an impact. In a great snap, one flipped away. Then another. The remaining two didn't last much longer.

  Wolf winced as the pilot tried to bail. Before he'd fallen ten feet one of the giant bats picked him out of the air and carried him away. The crumpled chopper hit the ground and exploded, incinerating a swath of grapevines. The charred husk rolled down a hill until it hit a fence.

  "We're dead," Wilson said.

  Wolf threw a look at Rome. The Dark had covered most of the city, giving just two minutes before it caught up with them. They would not make it to the docks, and there wasn't enough time to send a second bird.

  Anger surged into him, abrupt and hot. This was not the war he'd prepared for. This was not the enemy he'd trained to fight. He'd sworn to protect his men, but how could he do that in the face of such a foe? Desperate, he recalled the map of the region from the briefing.

  "South!" he ordered. "Take the highway to the river!"

  The SEALs rose and hustled their way to the highway, and then up the ramp. As they raced south the Dark approached from their left. Nearly the entire city had been taken, and the sounds of battle were fading quickly. The swarms of bats were now looking for new targets.

  "The road curves back to the east!" Peterson yelled.

  "We have no choice!" Wolf shouted back.

  The Fiume Tevere wound its way through the city and down to the western coast of Italy. If they could get to it they could use their emergency breathers and get to the coast. Swimming with the current they might stay ahead of the Dark long enough to catch one of the last boats.

  It was a desperate plan, but the only one. The SEALs hustled down the road as it curved back towards Rome—and the advancing Dark. The proximity drew the attention of one of the swarms, and in seconds it churned towards them.

  "Platoon two, Willy Pete's in front of them. Platoon one, throw frags under the swarm!"

  With practiced precision the SEALs pulled their grenades and threw. The white phosphorous grenades bounced to the ground in the path of the swarm. They exploded with white smoke that burned at a brilliant 5,000 degrees. Screeching in surprise, the bats flowed upward, avoiding the bright light. Their bath took them into the teeth of the second wave of grenades.

  Built to kill men, the grenades sent sizzling shrapnel into the leading bats, forcing the swarm to flinch upward again. Several fell with broken wings. The others bypassed the SEALs and turned back for another pass.

  "It's going to be close!" Duck yelled as he ran.

  The Dark had claimed the city, and was only seconds from reaching the bridge ahead. Caught between the swarm on their right and the cloud on their left, they could only force their way into the shrinking gap.

  "Don't stop!" Wolf yelled, and pulled out his emergency oxygen tank. The tiny reservoir had only five minutes of air, but it would have to do.

  One of the bats surged ahead of the swarm and caught Morris. Without slowing, Wolf, Duck, and two others drew weapons and shot it in the head. Morris scrambled to his feet but it was too late. Another pair grabbed him and lifted him into the air. Cursing them, he shot them even as they tore into his flesh. They died together and fell away. Wolf gritted his teeth and kept running.

  Then the cloud reached them.

  "Thirty feet!" Wolf bellowed.

  The whispers assaulted his mind as his vision faded, but Wolf refused to listen. Counting his steps, he reached for the side of the bridge. He swung his rifle over his shoulder and reached for the barrier. The warm concrete felt like a lifeline, and he levered himself over it. Air rushed past as he heard the bats trying to reach him. Blinded by the Dark, he drew his combat knife and slashed at them. Huge wings buffeted him, teeth and claws tore into his clothing and flesh, but he didn't stop.

  The fall took an eternity.

  Chapter 10: Water Strider

  Wolf slammed into the water and went under. Controlling his body, he remained under and brought the pony bottle to his lips. His chest heaving from the run, he fought to calm his racing heart. One by one he saw the remaining members of his team splash into view. He released an inward sigh of relief when the last had joined them. They had lost Morris, but no one else. He motioned to Peterson to report their position to one of the subs.

  The SEALs began swimming with the current as the Dark filled the ground above them. When it became too dark Wolf flicked his underwater light on. As they had learned, the Dark's power did not extend underwater, and the beam of light filtered through the murky view.

  Peterson swam to his side and motioned for him to look at his datapad. They hadn't brought their underwater gear, but Wolf had insisted that Peterson keep the long range, waterproof data pad just in case. The text being displayed made his heart sink.

  New threats have forced a tactical withdrawal. Recommend extraction via alternate means. We are notifying command of your position.

  It was a death knell for them. In less than five minutes their air would run out. At that point they could either drown or surface into the Dark. Even if they made it to the ocean there would be no escape. Time and again he came up with the same answer.

  It was over.

  Then Peterson made a second motion, and showed him a follow-up message. Wolf peered at the screen and read it twice, unsure of its intent.

  Command has been informed that Water Strider is coming to retrieve you. Continue on your present course and stand by for evac.

  Wolf had not heard the designation Water Strider before. Was it supposed to be a small
covert sub? No, that wouldn't fit in the river. Or perhaps an underwater sled team? He hoped not. Such a rescue attempt would only get more divers trapped. The sleds used by the teams to carry underwater gear did not have the speed to catch up to the retreating armada.

  Regardless, he could only keep swimming and hope. The minutes ticked by, but nothing appeared in the river ahead. The other SEALs kept swimming around him. Not hurried, not slow. It was a pace they could maintain for miles. Four minutes later he began to hope that Water Strider would at least manage to retrieve their bodies.

  Then an object appeared in the gloom ahead. At first he thought it was another diver. Then he realized the man had no equipment of any kind. Dressed in US military fatigues, he could have passed for a colonel—but his clothes appeared distinctly dry.

  One by one the SEALs came to a stop, and then the man made a motion with his hands. The water around the SEALs swirled into a large cube—which began to empty of water. The water siphoned out, dumping the team onto the bottom of the underwater cube. Stunned by the display, Wolf pulled the pony bottle from his mouth and tentatively took a breath.

  "You're a mage," he said.

  "Janson," he replied curtly. "Hold your questions until I've gotten us out."

  He then turned downriver and made a complicated gesture with his hands. Instantly the cube changed shape. The front tapered to a point, and the top molded into the shape of a bubble. The bottom thickened and curved until it resembled a keel.

  "Hang on," he warned as the underwater boat began to accelerate.

  "To what?" Peterson protested as he slid to the back.

  Experienced with the motion of a ship, the SEALs managed to stay upright as the underwater boat followed the curving river. A moment later it emptied into the Mediterranean Sea. Janson seemed at ease with the tilting motion— or rather the ship leaned because he did.

  The water under Wolf's feet felt as solid as concrete, but he could see fish swimming just under his boots. The walls and ceiling appeared equally as dense, and inexplicably held the river at bay. Illuminated by their flashlights, the sleek boat was large enough for all of them with room to spare.

  Once they hit the open water the view lightened, indicating they had passed the Dark's edge. Janson accelerated until Wolf estimated they were pushing seventy knots. Then he brought their boat gradually up to the surface. Water sprayed on both sides as the ship morphed into a surface vessel, and Janson maintained their speed.

  Wolf was struck by Janson’s skill in operating the craft. The changing of the boat without slowing, the large nature of the vessel, both spoke volumes of the man's skill. The focused expression on Janson's features suggested it was not an easy feat. Only when they had left the Dark behind did Janson turn to face them.

  "Who are you?" Duck asked.

  "The mages have a military much like your own," Janson said. "I happen to be a captain of the Rayths, which comprises the elite branch of the Battlemage Corps. Your superiors have given me the call sign Water Strider. You are fortunate I returned to the armada in time to assist you."

  "You're a soldier," Wilson said in surprise.

  "Much like you I suspect. I just use different weapons."

  Baker issued a long whistle of appreciation and slapped the boat made of water. "I think I like your weapons. What's this thing made of?"

  "Aquaglass," Janson replied, and then turned back to Wolf. "I take it you are in command?"

  "Captain Thompson," he said. "I appreciate you getting us out. Mind explaining how you came to be with the evacuation?" He pointed to the approaching armada of refugees.

  "My presence here has been deemed by your government to be top secret," Janson replied. "I was ordered to join your carrier group by my own government. The other mages and I are to assist any way we can with the evacuation."

  "There are more of you?"

  Janson issued a snort. "Where do you think all the food is coming from? Those under my command are growing, harvesting, and distilling food as fast as they can. Where possible, we have aided in the repairs of ships, the healing and caring for your sick or injured, and the resolution of disputes. We've also assisted in combat and extraction. Hang on."

  The boat slowed as they drew close to the fleet, and Janson shifted it back into the underwater craft. Then they smoothly dipped under the waves.

  "Most of your aurens are not aware of our presence yet," Janson said. "So I'm afraid I will have to leave you in the water next to the one you call a carrier."

  "No curbside delivery?" Baker issued a laugh. "We'll manage."

  "Of that I have no doubt," Janson said.

  The surface above was split by countless smaller keels, but Janson skillfully maneuvered through them. Soon they passed one that Wolf recognized as a destroyer class vessel. As they sped past its large hull, the massive base of the air craft carrier came into view.

  "Peterson," Wolf said, "report our position so they can fish us out." Then he turned to Janson. "From a soldier to a soldier, thanks for the ride. It was certainly not what I expected."

  Janson flashed a faint smile. "My pleasure. Don't make a habit of it."

  Wolf grinned, and then Janson banked the underwater ship to a stop. Wolf inserted the pony bottle back into his mouth and nodded. Once all the SEALs were ready, Janson pulled his hands apart and the boat disintegrated. Bubbles momentarily blocked Wolf's vision, and when they had cleared Janson was rocketing away as if a propeller was mounted to his feet.

  Wolf watched him go, and then motioned for the SEALs to surface. His air ran out just as they breached, and he sucked in a grateful breath. Duck surfaced beside him and waved to the crew of the carrier.

  "Well that was interesting," Duck said.

  "The magic or the mage?"

  "Both," Duck replied. "I'm surprised he appeared so . . . normal."

  Wolf issued a bark of laughter, but was forced to agree. In spite of the surreal nature of the ride, Janson had behaved like a professional soldier. It was the first time Wolf had met a mage up close, and he found himself impressed. If the mages had not yet allied with the Harbingers, then they represented a powerful ally. As a zodiac cruised toward them, Wolf threw a look back at the Dark rising in the distance.

  But was it enough?

  Chapter 11: The Deep

  Tess recast her light spells as they began to fade. They had walked for miles, and her body was starting to ache. The silence of the dark elves beside her continued, but their sheer grace in their homeland occupied her attention.

  "How can you see so well down here?" she finally asked.

  Eidian looked at her in surprise. "You aren't using your magesight?"

  "Should I be?"

  "Only if you want to see," the woman replied.

  Curious, Tess attached her light spell so it would hover above Robar. Then she blinked into her magesight—and gasped. The energies of the earth burst across her vision, revealing contours and colors she'd never dreamed of.

  Blue water dripped down the cave walls, mingling with the fluorescent colors of algae and fungus. Swirls of bright green cut through the darker rock, creating a backdrop of color that glowed with life. Salt and other minerals glittered like stars in the ceiling, walls, and floor. Patches of yellow and deep purple embraced each other, curving in an endless embrace.

  Every bend of stone, stalagmite, and drop of moisture had become visible. Like floodlights had just flicked on, she could see hundreds of feet down the sloping corridor. Limited only by the distance, the cave was illuminated by the energy inherent in its walls.

  "It's beautiful," she breathed.

  Eidian flashed a smile. "All dark elves have magesight for the energies of the Deep, but like the surface races, not everyone can use magic."

  "I thought magesight was linked to a specific magic," Tess said.

  "The dark elves have adapted to our homeland," Eidian said, and then cocked her head to the side. "Is it true you can see all energies?"

  "That is what I have been t
old," Tess replied.

  "I am curious about the surface vecules."

  "The what? Oh, you mean vehicles, cars."

  "Yes," she said. "What power compels them to move?"

  "Er, gasoline," she replied, but Eidian gave her a blank look. "It's like caged energy inside of a certain liquid. When it's burned, it turns the engine."

  Understanding lit her eyes. "You must be speaking of earthsap. We use it for many purposes, much like the ancient dwarves did. Its volatile nature makes it as useful as it is dangerous. I am surprised that the aurens learned how to handle it properly."

  "They've come a long way," Tess said.

  Eidian was quiet for a time, and then said, "Is it true they have buildings that touch the sky?"

  "Most major cities have them, they're called skyscrapers."

  "I would like to see these skyscrapers in person some day."

  "You've seen one before?"

  "A piture," she said.

  "Picture," Tess corrected, surprised. "How did you see a picture of the surface?"

  "Oh, there's a thriving trade among our people for objects from the surface. Chocolate is prized for its flavor, while mechanical marvels can fetch a high price."

  "What about weapons or ammunition?" Robar asked. He tapped the assault rifle he cradled. "I'm running low."

  "Some," Eidian replied. "But such items cost a great deal."

  "What else can you tell me about your city?" Tess asked.

  "You want to know about Elsurund?"

  "Of course," Tess said. "How could I not be excited to see it?"

  Eidian sighed, and flipped her black silky hair to the side. "Your curiosity surprises me."

  "Why?"

  "Because the surface races show little interest in our kind," she replied. "In many periods of history we were derided as a plague, and even hunted for a time. The source of every blight or death was laid at our feet."