Right then, the archers had reached their vantage points, and though Lumea could not see their arrows, they added greatly to the confusion. A robot fell down with a shaft protruding defiantly from its neck. It told Gîsal and his men that the kite was not all they had to deal with. More arrows rained down on the troops, quickly diminishing the number of robots still standing. Everyone was staring up, but the archers stayed hidden in the darkness of the high vaults.
Gîsal sounded almost desperate as he yelled at his troops to attack. Swintheri hurried up the staircase, but they could not get close enough to Elion and his men to keep them from shooting, and none of the Swintheri carried bow or arrows.
Lumea decided that the time had come to join in the fray. With a deep sigh, she uttered a quick prayer. Then she looked at the other fighters. Not a trace of doubt was left in their eyes, and Lumea knew that she could depend on them. Everything that they had experienced lately had hardened them for this fight. She sent out half of her troop over to Siard and Aeron and kept the other half with herself.
As the second group moved from statue to statue, unnoticed in all the confusion, Lumea and the rest of the warriors pulled down two of the statues and placed their round bases on their side. They rolled them into the fray and followed them in, hopefully taking out some opponents in the process. At the very least, the act would add to the confusion. Their limestone bases were heavy, taking quite some strength to move them quietly.
When Lumea nodded, the fighters pushed the stones, and then everyone emerged from their hiding places, creating as much noise as possible. The rolling bases knocked over some of their opponents, and they were subsequently defeated with ease. The Swintheri ran towards them, but with an agile leap, Lumea jumped up on one of the stones which had rolled to a stop, and she fought the soldiers that stood in her way.
The group reached the army of Thurancs without too much resistance. Because of the two attacks from above, their opponent’s numbers were already greatly reduced, and the robot warriors were no longer in the majority. Now, though, the Thurancs could see their opponents, and they immediately attacked. Arrows buzzed down from the ceiling. In a flash, from the corner of her eye, Lumea saw that Siard had come out of his hiding place. With the army concentrating on her group, he managed to surprise them from their flank.
Gîsal was kept off balance, this time by the sheer number of opponents. Even if he had expected the fugitives to still be alive, even if they had the audacity to attack him, he had only counted on three of them. He wondered where all these other enemies had come from.
The robots did exactly what they were made to do. Their attack was aimed to the front, to the people who had first come into their range. They did nothing to defend themselves. Most of them had only their claws and strength for weapons, though some of them carried swords to further extend their reach.
Elvire froze up when two Thurancs approached her from both sides, and she was the first of their group to die. At the same time, Lumea felt a claw close around her waist. She was lifted up as the claw slowly tightened its grip, and the sharp nails tore at her skin. With all her strength, she let her sword descend on the arm, severing the joint. She dropped down with her back against one of the stone bases.
When she saw the next robot making its way over to her, she hid behind the base, trying to get a grip on her breathing. The creature kept coming nearer, though, so she climbed up on the stone and used the advantage of her height to pierce her sword through the Thuranc’s weak spot. The thing stopped in the middle of its motion and fell over.
The last arrows having been spent, Elion used the ropes they had climbed up on to get back down into the fray quickly. Another archer followed him, but he lost his grip and landed on the floor, where he was run over by two robots chasing Zephyr. Just like during the test, the agile woman outran the creatures.
Elion, on the other hand, had somehow managed to land on the back of the Thuranc whose arm had been severed by Lumea. From this vantage point he managed to defeat some opponents, and weaken others.
The ragtag group of fighters were having a difficult time. They fought bravely, but the Thurancs were fast, and more often than not they killed their opponent in one stroke. They were also taller than most men, not to mention the women, so it was hard to reach their weak points. During a short lull in the fight when nobody was paying attention to her, Lumea looked around, noting that her group had suffered many losses. Farther on, she saw a group of women bringing their training into practice. It made her proud to see that they were standing their ground against the robots. Something caught her attention, and she noted a robot as it renewed his attack. As it drove one woman back, its sword swished through the air.
Lumea could not help laughing when the robot finished its attack. She recognized a pattern in which the creature swung its weapon. Under Master Archivald she had endlessly repeated the same pattern, and apparently the researchers in Hydrhaga had programmed their creations with the same basic techniques.
Overconfident as they seemed to be, they must have thought that the opponents would not survive the first round of attacks. It was another fatal miscalculation that, like the weakness in their necks, would cost them dearly tonight. Lumea had taught her own pupils the same thing, and she now yelled at them what she had discovered. She was thrilled to see that they understood her, and now that they knew what to expect they could easily avoid the attacks and wait for more opportune moments to defeat the robots.
The lull ended when Elion was thrown from his perch by the onearmed robot. Jumping off her pedestal, Lumea landed next to her friend to help him up.
“Follow me! Let us finish this!” she yelled above the cacophony of the battle, as she drew her second sword.
Aiming for the weaker joints of the creature’s knees, she brought the robot down. Elion jabbed his sword into its neck, and together, they moved on to the next creature. Seeing how Lumea attacked the robots, Almar followed suit. With his two short swords, he felled the creatures, after which a woman finished the thing off.
The Swintheri and workers were finally starting to join in the fight with earnest, and after some hesitation the Hosts followed their example. One of them managed to surprise and kill Almar, but the Thurancs were built to fight humans, and in the confusion of the battle they could not distinguish friend from foe, so workers, soldiers and Hosts alike fell victim to the robots. They quickly ran for cover again, but in the few minutes that they had fought, many of them had fallen.
Gîsal stood in the middle of the battle, looking on with mixed emotions. The large number of dead enemies made him happy, but the fact that just one kite had managed to finish off so many of his army—without anyone capable of stopping it—was rather disconcerting. This whole fight should not have been happening, anyway. He was mad that these people were weakening his army in a battle that should have been raging in Omnesia. The anger morphed into white-hot fury when he realized that his plans had just received another major setback.
On the other side of the chapel, Gîsal could see a woman in a red dress, who he knew must be the Lumea woman. Her dress was very different from the clothing of the other fighters, as was her combat style. Unlike the others, she appeared to know what she was doing as she felled one robot after the other.
Just as the leader of the robots was watching, one robot grabbed Elion, who struggled against its grip. The creature was the stronger of the two, and Gîsal waited for it to kill the man. After a moment, the robot threw Elion away and turned its attention to another opponent. The man landed against a pillar, but he was still alive. Gîsal was dumbfounded. Why had he not been killed?
Elion soon got up again, and threw himself back into the battle. Gîsal noticed that the man’s attitude had changed, somehow, as if he felt himself invincible. Despite his right arm that hung uselessly at his side, he hacked around with the other one as if nothing could harm him. The Thurancs avoided him, but he chased them until they lay defeated at his feet.
Almos
t as if he felt himself being watched, Elion turned around.
Their eyes locked for the briefest of moments.
“Impossible,” Gîsal muttered.
He had never even considered that one of the fugitives might be an elf. He had closed Hydrhaga off from them a long time ago, so how had this one found his way inside? As Elion fought on doggedly, Gîsal approached him with measured steps. The Thurancs avoided their leader, as they had been programmed not to harm elves. On his way towards his opponent, Gîsal bent to retrieve a discarded sword.
He had to stop the other elf; he was too great a danger to what little was left of his small army. If Gîsal managed to stop him, he could always restart with the production of the Thurancs, but as long as Elion remained alive he posed too great a threat to Gîsal’s creation.
Soon, Elion noticed the leader of Hydrhaga approaching him, and moments later they were face to face. There was no time for pleasantries as Gîsal attacked. With one arm hanging limp, Elion defended himself with the other as best he could, though his opponent was strong and determined. Despite Gîsal’s stiff armor and motionless torso, his arms flowed through the air in elegant arcs, never letting up their fierce attack on the other elf.
Although the long journey through Hydrhaga—not to mention the current fight—had had exhausted Elion, he still managed to keep his opponent at bay. Gîsal was more fit and better rested, but by adapting to his fighting style, Elion could fight him off, even with only one functioning arm.
Lumea wondered for a second where Elion had gone, when she saw that Siard had replaced him. She was in the heat of battle, though, so there was no time to really think about it. With the assistance of a few of her warriors, they disabled the last of the Thurancs. All there were left now were humans facing each other. In the lull that came from the Swintheri’s hesitation, Lumea had the chance to look around. She saw Elion locked in a battle with Gîsal. She could clearly see that her friend was heavily wounded. He had trouble keeping his balance, and it was increasingly hard for him to dodge the leader’s swift attacks. He was quite obviously losing.
Despite her exhaustion, Lumea still found an unknown reserve of strength when she saw the two locked in battle. Quicker than ever, she ran toward them. One Host tried to stop her, but she did not even notice him. Zephyr pushed him out of the way and pointed her sword at his throat so that he could not get away.
With effort, Gîsal threw Elion down to the floor, where he stayed, apparently dazed, and at that moment Lumea reached the two of them. She took Elion’s place, effectively keeping her companion out of reach of the leader.
“Give it up, Gîsal. Your army’s destroyed. It’s over!”
He laughed squarely in her face. “I’m not afraid of you, little Lumea.”
She shrugged, refusing to let him see what she was feeling. “I’m not afraid of you either,” she lied.
Gîsal towered above her, and his appearance frightened her. She attacked with all her might, but time and again he deflected her blade. His own sword tore through the cloth of her dress, and with a flick of the wrist he drew blood from her arm. She hardly even felt it as she fought to protect Elion. While Gîsal seemed invulnerable, he wounded her time and again.
“You shouldn’t have gotten yourself involved in this, human. This war had nothing to do with you, but now you’re going to die for it anyway.”
His words touched a nerve within her. In her fight against Gîsal, she recalled her struggle against the demon so long ago. Back then, Wolf had given her the chance to back down, and she had not. The demon had told her she would die in a battle that was not her own, and yet, she had emerged victorious. The same clear calm came over her, and, fully in control of herself, she sprang forward. Not expecting this maneuver from her, Gîsal was too late with his defense. With a lucky jab, she managed to pry her sword underneath his breastplate. Knowing she had won, she remembered everything she had told Elion about her vision, and what he had told her afterward. She wondered what would happen if she gave the choice of the ending back to Gîsal.
“All I have to do to end your life here and now is to push. But I want to give you a chance to end this differently.”
Gîsal sneered. “There’s only one way for you to stop me, and that’s entirely up to you. Your words mean nothing to me, human.”
He spat out the last word and raised his sword, but before it had reached its apex, Lumea pushed upward and pierced his heart. She let go of her sword without withdrawing it. The elf dropped down to the floor, opposite of Elion, dead. It was the last straw for the workers and the Hosts, who dropped their weapons as one. The whole reason Hydrhaga had even existed died along with its leader.
29
With Siard, Zephyr and Aeron bringing their prisoners to the cells, Lumea had her hands free to take care of Elion. He was smiling, though his eyes betrayed the pain he suffered.
“We did it, we won!” he said softly.
“Yes, we did. But look at how hurt you are,” she answered, the worry for the injured elf clearly evident in her voice, which neared the point of breaking.
“I don’t think I will make it, Lumea. But that doesn’t matter. The important thing is that we did what we came here to do. Omnesia is safe.”
Lumea was powerless to keep her tears from streaming down her cheeks. “It does matter. You can’t die, Elion.”
The elf seemed resigned to his approaching death. His voice sounded even softer as he said, “Goodbye, my Lady Lumea. It has been an honor...”
His eyes closed as he drifted off into unconsciousness. One of Lumea’s tears fell on his face, and she carefully wiped it away. Then her hands felt for his shoulder. With one decisive movement she set his arm back into place. She knew that it must have hurt terribly, but Elion did not react.
In all the rubble and destruction left from the battle, she found the right materials to bind the shoulder, so that it had no chance of moving. Then she moved on to the rest of his body. The worst of the wounds she treated, but her supply of herbs was almost gone, so she had to be careful how much of it she used. At least, so long as she was taking care of his wounds, she could keep her grief and despair at bay.
Siard and Aeron returned with a stretcher they had fashioned, and they put the elf on it when Lumea was finished tending his wounds. What remained of the group of fighters had gathered in the rooms of the Hosts. Even the people who had been too weak to fight had been brought there by Gentil.
Elion, on the other hand, was brought to the most luxurious room of them all, which had of course belonged to Gîsal. Lumea stayed by his side. Siard brought her a glass of water to drink and put his hand on her shoulder for a moment, after which he left her. Through the open doors she could hear the excited murmurings from people who were happy to be alive and to have emerged victorious. The threat was finally over. At times, the murmurings quietened though, as they remembered their losses. Lumea paid no heed, for all her attentions were directed toward Elion.
Later on, Aeron came into the room.
“Lumea, you have to wash and let me take care of your wounds.”
She hardly seemed to hear his words. He sat down next to her and put a comforting arm around her shoulders. When he said her name again, she looked at him with intense sadness.
“I don’t want to leave him.”
Aeron pulled her towards him in a comforting gesture. “I know, honey, but you need to take the time to care for yourself. If you let yourself die, you won’t be helping him. Go and wash yourself. I promise I will stay by his side.”
She nodded and went away. When she had washed, Aeron tended her wounds and gave her new clothes. Only now did she realize that he had put on something different as well. She looked at the dress he had given her with admiration.
“We got some things from Gîsal’s archive. Nobody really wanted to keep walking around with bloodied clothes, so we kind of plundered it. You should come out and look. You’ve never seen that much color on a bunch of Omnesians!”
&nbs
p; It was his attempt at cheering her up a little, but instead of smiling she just sat back down next to Elion.
“I’m so worried about him, Aeron. He really means a lot to me, but I feel like someone is taking him away from me.”
“You need to have faith, Lumea. He’s obviously still fighting, so you shouldn’t give up either. Oh, that reminds me, I have something for you.”
Aeron took the bottle he had placed on the table when he had entered the room. It contained some kind of transparent liquid.
“What is it?”
“We found it in the archive as well. The label belonging to it described it as water coming from the Fountain of Life. I have no idea if it’s just a name or not, but it couldn’t hurt to try, could it?”
Lumea recognized the bottle as one of the things she had seen that time she had been in the archive. She took it gratefully and wet Elion’s lips with the water.
Lumea did not sleep at all that night. Instead, she kept vigil next to Elion. Her night was lonely, filled with worry for the man lying next to her. The only thing that could give her some comfort was his regular breathing. It assured her that he was still alive, so she tried to have faith, like Aeron had told her to.
There were times that she drifted off, only to wake up again with a shock. She would not allow herself the luxury of sleep, afraid to miss any change in the elf’s condition. She’d blame herself for the rest of her life if he died while she slept. She quickly pushed the thought aside. Maybe Elion would wake up and need her. She had to stay awake.
In the silence of the night, thoughts kept playing through her mind, showing her all kinds of possible scenarios. She tried to push the negative ones away and keep hold on the positive ones.
City of Illusions Page 21
