“Don’t you dare!” Elandria yelled.
“It doesn’t matter now!” said one of the soldiers. “Here come the reinforcements!”
A few hundred submarines pulled into the narrow space between the islands, in a tightly packed formation. Once in position, they hovered there as thousands of scuba-suit wearing infantrymen began to pile out of their airlocks and into the sea. Elandria stared at these seemingly endless troops with fear. They were more than enough men to occupy and take the city. She looked down and around at all the sea-dweller homes, and saw the fear on the faces of her countrymen. They did not deserve this. Many of them had once been American or Russian land-dwellers, and had chosen to immigrate to the new city. Elandria wished that she could protect them.
At the same time, a few men began swimming down from the city above. Elandria looked up with fear, hoping that it would not be who she expected. She began to struggle against the man holding her captive, when she saw her husband and Vachlan, followed by Callder.
“Trevain!” she shouted, sobbing and struggling. “Don’t come here! Swim away! Swim away! Trevain!” She feared for his life, but she mostly feared for Ivory and Ronan. If Vachlan came any closer, he would surely be captured. There were too many American soldiers. If he was captured, they would kill one of the twins to try and control him. In Vachlan’s current state, and after the hurtful things she had recently said to him, Elandria knew he was vulnerable. He was guilty, and soft, and in turmoil over Visola. It would work. If there was ever a moment in history that Vachlan could easily be manipulated, it was this one. “Vachlan! Get away!”
Elandria standing in front of Ronan and Ivory.
“Vachlan Suchos,” said one of the American soldiers. “We require your full cooperation in stopping Visola Ramaris’ reign of terror. We need you to help us seize her and put her to death at once—and if you disagree, we will shoot one of your children.” He gestured to the man holding Ronan, and the soldier placed a gun to the little boy’s head. Ronan looked up at his father in fear.
Looking around to assess the situation, Vachlan frowned. His eyes settled on his son. “Hey there, champ. Sorry I haven’t been around. I didn’t know that you got hurt so badly.”
Ronan’s lip quivered and he nodded. “I still love you, Daddy.”
“I love you more, little man.”
“Well, I hate you!” Ivory declared to Vachlan. “And I won’t consider you my dad, or talk to you, or look at you ever again… not unless you save us! Not unless you save everybody!”
Vachlan turned to look at Trevain and Callder with a smile. “The kid drives a hard bargain,” he commented to his grandsons. “Does anyone have a plan?”
“Is it too late to run?” Callder asked.
“I don’t think he’s cooperating,” said one of the soldiers. He nodded to the man holding Ronan at gunpoint. “Shoot the kid.”
The next few seconds happened in slow motion. Vachlan reached for his gun, and moved to try to shoot first, but he knew it would not be soon enough. He could feel his heart pounding right out of his chest as his arms struggled to move faster than humanly possible. Trevain and Callder similarly drew their weapons, but there was nothing they could do.
And then Elandria screamed.
“No!” she bellowed, feeling her vocal chords vibrate with the force of her cry. She shut her eyes tightly, waiting for the sound of the gunshot. But it never came. A moment later, she opened her eyes, and gasped. The man who had been about to shoot Ronan was being pulverized before her eyes. His skin had bubbled off, in a matter of seconds, exposing his bone. A gruesome skeleton began to float to the bottom of the ocean floor. Elandria clamped a hand over her mouth. She had almost entirely forgotten about her built-in weapon. She turned to Ivory in horror, hoping that she had not scarred the child for life from boiling a man alive in front of her.
The soldier holding Ivory had released his grip, too horrified by the sight before him to function. The young girl could finally move and speak freely.
“Cool!” Ivory said, with shining eyes. “That was the coolest thing ever, Auntie Elan! You melted him. With your voice. This is just like what happened to the Wicked Witch of the West! Can you do that to all the bad guys?”
“I don’t know,” Elandria whispered. “I’m not a murderer.” She was grateful when a gunshot sounded near her head, and the man who had been restraining her floated away. She found her husband quickly swimming to her side to embrace her. She clung to him, feeling a sense of great security when his big arms wrapped tightly encircled her body. She tried to stop hyperventilating.
Vachlan had moved to Ivory’s side, quickly stabbing the stupefied soldier that had held her. He picked her up, and was surprised when her small arms immediately went around his neck and squeezed. He smiled. For all her tough talk, she was still his daughter. He was not fooled by the Ramaris women and their thorny exteriors.
Elandria pulled away from Trevain, once she had calmed down a little. She saw that Callder had been chatting with Ronan to lift the boy’s spirits. Moving forward, she lifted the young boy against her body and gave him a firm hug. It terrified her to know that she had nearly lost him. However, what scared her far more was the look on Callder’s face, which indicated that they were about to lose far more.
“They’re coming for us,” Callder said, feebly pointing his rifle at the thousands of armed American soldiers who were swimming forth from the wall of submarines. “We’re screwed. So, so screwed.”
Vachlan and Trevain stared at the endless amounts of infantry troops with helpless expressions. They looked to each other, silently acknowledging that their reinforcements would not arrive in time. Trevain moved to Elandria’s side, and took the small boy from her arms.
“I need you to step up here, Elan,” he told her softly. He remembered what Aazuria had said about having more faith in the women he married. “I need you to help stop those men from getting to the city.”
She stared at him in shock, shaking her head vehemently. “I can’t control it, Trevain. If I use my voice… it won’t just scald them or injure them. I will boil them all alive.”
“I need you to do that for me, Elandria.” He drew his lips into a grim line, holding Ronan closely against him. “I need you to use your technique on all those men.”
She moved away from him, her face aghast. “Do you know what you’re asking me to do?” She seemed appalled and revolted at the thought. “You want me to massacre all those people?”
“If you don’t kill them, they’re going to kill us.”
Chapter 15: They Must Surrender
Aazuria woke up in the middle of a boutique clothing store. She sat up and looked through the window, and saw people running in every direction. There was a tank moving through the street. “Damn,” she said, turning to the store clerk. “How long was I out?”
“No more than fifteen minutes,” the woman told her nervously. “It’s getting really bad out there.”
Looking around, Aazuria squinted as the shop struck a chord in her memory. “I bought a coat here once, a few years ago.”
“I remember that,” the woman said with a smile. “For the museum opening.”
Moving to the window, Aazuria saw the Corallyn Centennial Museum less than a block away. She chewed on her lip, and reached down to check her armor for her phone. Finding it intact, she quickly dialed Naclana.
“Aazuria? Where are you?” he asked.
“I’m at shop on Main Street. I killed the soldiers who were taking me. What’s going on?”
“Dylan and I have caught up with Adlivun’s special forces. Some really impressive men that were trained by Visola back in the day. We’re trying to hold off the Russians and Americans from both sides, but it’s getting difficult. They’re leaking through and getting into the city.”
An explosion nearby caused the glass from the store window to shatter, and Aazuria lifted an arm to shield her eyes. “Where do you want me?” she asked. “Where can I come to help?
“We’re going to lose this fight, Aazuria. I was wrong. They’re too strong. You’re on Main? There are some women and children taking shelter in the museum. Go there and you should be safe.”
Glancing at the museum, Aazuria shook her head. She marched out of the broken store window, turning back to wave goodbye and thanks to the shopkeeper for watching over her. “Where are you, Naclana? I’m coming to you.”
“For Sedna’s sake, Aazuria—it’s really critical out here. Take cover!”
“I think you have me confused with someone else, cousin. Where are you?” she demanded again, moving carefully through the back alleyways of the streets.
“Dylan and I are defending the city from the bridge that leads to Russia,” Naclana said, “but we’re going to fail. There are too many Russian soldiers… we’ve already lost so many men. This is pointless.”
“I don’t care,” Aazuria said, breaking into a run. “I’m coming to help.”
“Wait! Wait, Zuri!”
She did not stop running, but she frowned. “What is it?”
“Look to the north. Do you see that?”
While still moving, she turned to observe the horizon. She frowned when she saw dozens of dark marks growing larger. “What is that? Are those ships? What kind of crafts?”
“Hold on, Dylan has binoculars,” Naclana said.
Aazuria kept moving, but her heart rate had doubled. Ships coming from the north? They already had to deal with infantry and submarines from Russian and America—how could they fight a naval fleet? To whom did the boats belong? There was nothing to the north except Arctic water and ice. Was there a third land-dwelling country joining this fight against them? If so… she knew that she would need to surrender shortly, or be killed. While fighting to the death had always seemed like an honorable concept, she could no longer entertain the idea. She had to think of Varia.
Naclana cleared his throat. “Aazuria. We’re seeing hundreds of cruisers and destroyers here. Lots of corvettes. Some anti-submarine frigates. A couple amphibious assault ships. And, um… at least four aircraft carriers.”
Finally, Aazuria stopped running, frozen in her tracks. Her phone clattered to the ground. She stared out toward the north in complete disbelief, before crouching down to retrieve her phone. The call had not been dropped. “Naclana? That sounds like the full fleet of at least three countries. It can’t be just the US and Russia—who else is it? Is it the Royal Navy?”
“I don’t think the UK has this this much steel on the water anymore, Zuri.”
“Who, then?” she demanded. “France? China? Korea? What the hell is going on, Naclana? Who’s attacking us?”
“From these numbers, Aazuria—I would have to say ‘all of the above.’ We won’t be able to keep Diomede City. We won’t be able to keep Limestone City or any of old Adlivun. We’re done for.”
Aazuria sat down on the ground abruptly, and pounded her fist into the dirt. She fought to keep tears out of her eyes as she looked up at the sky. “Why? Why did they need all of that to take down this one small city? It’s overkill.”
“Diomede City is important. This bridge is incredibly vital. It’s the link between worlds.”
“How are they even coming at us from the north?” Aazuria asked weakly. “That’s not possible. Is this a nightmare?”
“Aazuria…” Naclana’s voice was empty and distant. “Just come over here and be prepared to put your hands up in the air. It’s over. We’ve lost Adlivun. You need to surrender.”
She remained sitting on the ground, holding her phone and staring at the approaching ships in amazement. Over a minute of silence passed.
“Zuri?” Naclana urged gently. “Come on. The fighting has stopped. Come meet me at the western bridge. You need to officially surrender.”
She felt an impossible sinking sensation in her gut. She had done it yet again. She had lost yet another nation, due to her foolish and impulsive actions. She had let her entire country down. She could not even cry. The emptiness in her chest was too great.
“I don’t want to surrender,” she told her cousin, bringing her fingertips up to rest them lightly against her cheek. She was filled with foreboding and misgiving. “How can this be? This doesn’t feel like it’s really happening.”
“Aazuria. Stop thinking. Just get up and move. You need to come over here and surrender, or hundreds of thousands of innocent people are going to die.”
“Elandria, please!” Trevain urged. “Those soldiers are going to be in firing range soon. They would have killed Ronan if you didn’t stop them.” Trevain held up the scared little boy, whose leg was still in the clunky cast. The material of the cast had gotten wet, and was now flaking and crumbling. “He’s alive because of you!” Trevain shouted. “He’s alive because you took action! I need you to do that again.”
She swam a little bit further away from her husband in trepidation. She lifted her hands to speak in sign language. “Trevain, that was the first man I have ever killed. In my life. I did not mean to do so. It was an accident. I cannot harm anyone else. I could not live with myself. I would rather die.”
“Auntie Elan,” Ronan said, swimming forward. “I’m sorry you had to make the bad man melt. Thanks for keeping me safe.” He put his arms around Elandria’s waist and hugged her tightly.
Elandria felt her heart soften. She reached down and gently cupped the child’s head, holding him against her stomach.
Vachlan swam forward. “Elandria, listen. We can’t do anything. My grandsons are good fighters, but take a look at these odds. It’s three against something like thirty thousand. We’re sitting ducks. We need your help.”
“I can’t,” she mouthed into the water. “I can’t.”
The men exchanged looks of great frustration. It was easy to see that they considered Elandria a mega-cannon, capable of launching a lethal fireball that would easily obliterate their enemies. However, they could not seem to make the cannon fire.
“I don’t even know if I could make a difference,” she told them. “I killed one man, but I might not be able to harm so many. There are so many.”
“We’re going to die if you don’t do something,” Vachlan told her.
“No one is going to die,” she announced. “I’m going to surrender. If I killed half of them, and they end up capturing us anyway—wouldn’t it be better if I had let them all live, and surrendered?”
“You’re really thinking of surrendering?” Trevain asked in surprise.
“Yes,” she responded.
“Aw, shucks. Don’t do that,” Callder said in displeasure. “I would much rather die. Please, sis? Just be a nice dragon and breathe fire on all the mean soldiers. Cook us up a good, ol’ fashioned American barbeque.”
“Auntie Elan is a dragon?” Ronan asked in wonder.
Elandria smiled, and moved forward to hand the child to Callder, since Vachlan was holding Ivory.
“I think she’s a sorceress,” Ivory told her brother.
“She’s stronger than Mommy!” Ronan declared.
This sentence caught Elandria off guard. As she turned and swam toward the soldiers, she could not help asking herself the question that Aazuria most favored. What would Visola do? Then, deciding that she was not crazy enough to manage Visola’s insane feats, asked herself another question. What would Aazuria do? None of the answers to these questions mattered. She knew that surrendering was the most logical and peaceful choice. She swam away from the men, toward the soldiers. She put both of her hands up in a gesture of peaceful surrender.
She did not see Trevain swimming behind her. “Elandria, wait!” he called, but she could not hear him in the water. She continued to keep her hands lifted, and hoped the soldiers would be reasonable. At first, it seemed like they were going to accept her surrender.
Then, the bullets came. When the soldiers closest to her began to fire bullets at her, she froze. She was confused by the fact that none of the bullets hit her, until she turned. She saw Trevain g
et struck. She saw his body jerk backward a few times as bullets hit him in various places. She held her breath, hoping that the Americans had only hit his armor. However, she saw dark clouds of blood enter the water, and the pain on his face. She saw him lift a hand to clutch his chest.
“Trevain?” she whispered. She swam to him and pressed a hand over his. Her fingers made the red clouds of blood dance in the murky water. She looked into his face, and saw the feelings of fear and defeat etched in the lines beside his mouth and eyes. He interlaced his fingers with hers, and squeezed her hand tightly.
“I love you,” he mouthed into the water. “I respect you for staying true to your values, no matter what the cost.” His eyelids seemed to be getting heavy, and he let them drift closed for a moment.
Elandria stared at his eyes, holding her breath and praying they would open again. She squeezed his hand. “Trevain,” she whispered. She lifted her other hand to touch his cheek. “Trevain?”
Feeling her touch, he smiled and turned to press his lips against her fingertips. He forced his eyes open, one final time. “Tell Varia… and Zuri...” He could not continue, for the life was draining from his body. He suddenly relaxed, and his body hovered in suspension, slowly falling. His hand, which had been tightly clutching Elandria’s slowly drifted away, as he was swept away by the gentle current of the sea.
Elandria’s lips parted. She looked up at Vachlan and Callder in terror. She gazed at the stricken faces of the twins. She knew that this was her fault. She knew that the others would be in danger too, in only a few seconds. She imagined bullets ripping through Vachlan, and the children that she had grown to love so much in recent months. Tears flowed out of her eyes, although no one could see them. She swiveled sharply and glared at the thirty-thousand American soldiers, who were approaching in a particular formation. She wanted to hurt them, but she was terrified of doing so at the same time. She had no idea what kind of beast she would unleash, once she got started.
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