Even in death, Tlathia vexed her.
Still, at least she had had the foresight to send the kelpie cavalry across the river to cut off the manlings' escape. They'd run them down. If not, she'd have Cavalry Commander Feld's head.
Handlers ran to meet Horlastia and took the wyvern's reins from her. She dropped down from the saddle and trailed her fingers through Tlathia's bloody hair, feeling an unexpected pang of sorrow darken her victory. When she had been a little girl, no more than four or five, Tlathia had often sat with her before bedtime, brushing Horlastia's hair and telling her stories of brave heroes and evil monsters. "Why, sister?" she whispered. "Why betray us? You'd have been queen someday. Even with the culling, Mother can't live forever … not forever."
Can she?
She sighed, wiping the blood from her fingertips onto the scaled flank of the wyvern, then turned to face a handler. "Remove the corpse, and see it secured somewhere safe." She'd send Tlathia's severed head as a gift to her mother.
The male fae seelie bowed obsequiously. "Yes, great General."
Astin's wyvern landed nearby, carrying both her and Ulfir, followed by the wyvern that had belonged to Helandia, the corpses of Faltoria and Helandia draped across its saddle. An aide approached and shoved aside the handlers to drop down onto a knee, his head lowered. "My General, apologies, but First Lance Underwin and your battle captains await your pleasure in the command tent."
Horlastia removed her helmet and flying cloak and handed them to the aide before nodding and rubbing the back of her neck, mentally and physically drained from casting so many spells. Spider Mother, Tlathia was powerful. Alone, she could have killed any one of us. And despite our efforts, somehow she knew we were there, casting a Sunburst spell moments before we could attack. How? She shook her head, sighing at the loss of two more Black Circle initiates. And Helandia had been the commander of her mage-warden cohort. Now, she'd need to find a replacement. Damn you, sister!
Ulfir lithely dropped from Astin's wyvern, still simmering over both the failure to kill the dwarf and the loss of his precious new talisman. He stormed away, bowling over several handlers who hadn't scurried out of his path quickly enough. She smiled at his back as he slipped away into the night.
With her aides following, she left the wyvern enclosure and moved past the tent lines where her boggart soldiers, fae seelie warriors, and trolls sat shivering before campfires. And the manlings consider this "summer," she mused, rubbing her arms. The reek of smoke, unwashed bodies, and the latrines assailed her, particularly strong after the exhilaration of open-air flight. Her guards snapped to attention as she approached the command tent, and held the tent flaps aside for her. A dozen of her commanders led by First Lance Tir Underwin waited inside, crowded around a table, examining a map of the region. Underwin and the others jerked upright when they saw her.
"What news from Cavalry Commander Feld?" she asked as she removed her flying gloves and discarded them atop the map.
One of her more promising mage-wardens, an ambitious young woman named Kerstia, answered before Underwin could, earning a scathing glare from the veteran. "He sent a message through mind-tether a short while ago. The manlings somehow … appeared beyond his blocking force here." She pointed to the manling road south of the bridge. "He reported his forces were in pursuit."
Horlastia snorted. "The idiot. The manlings didn't just somehow appear. My sister used the orb to create another gateway for them, which was why I committed him and his cavalry in the first place. Feld had better run them down quickly and recover the orb."
Underwin stepped forward, shoving past Kerstia. "General, we've had no messages since. Feld should have caught them by now."
She looked up, sighing in exasperation, then glared at Kerstia. "Do we have a mind-tether in place with Feld or not?"
"The mind-tether spell has been … severed," answered Kerstia, her eyes darting down.
"There's more," said Underwin. "Our wyvern scouts have reported manling war chariots." He drew a dagger and used it to indicate the road again, not far from where the manlings had appeared through Tlathia's gateway. "Here and here," the grizzled veteran said, "but more are moving north."
"They're mobilizing against us?" Her stomach knotted as she remembered how easily a single manling armed with a fire weapon had killed her alpha wyvern, a dragonling that could have ripped apart an entire cohort of boggarts. What can an army equipped with such weapons accomplish? Her mother had insisted the manlings would not attack. Was she wrong?
"I think not, my General," Underwin said. "By all accounts, it is only a small force, perhaps just scouts. Although there are more establishing defenses farther away here." He indicated another river much farther south of the one that now impeded the army.
"Scouts?" Horlastia repeated, biting her lip and nodding, her fears easing. "So if I understand the situation, Feld may be dead, the manlings are still in possession of my orb, and now they've been reinforced by war chariots?"
"Yes, my General," said Kerstia, her face crestfallen.
"It isn't your fault, Kerstia. The manling mages supporting my sister were more … capable than I imagined. That mistake is mine, but I won't make it again. Send a wyvern. If Feld is dead, order whoever is in charge to press the kelpie cavalry forward. Attack, and drive them before us. Shatter them. We must recover the Shatkur Orb. Without it—"
The tent flaps flew aside, and a guard escorted a young male fae seelie officer wearing the armor and insignia of the cavalry inside. The officer dropped down upon one knee. Blood seeped from a scalp wound over his left ear. Horlastia's eyes tightened. He stared at her boots, his purple skin blanching.
"Report," she said softly.
"My General, it's a … a disaster." The young rider's voice trembled. "We were on the enemy, driving them before us. We had them."
Horlastia sighed. "You didn't have them, did you?"
"Manling war chariots, my General." When he glanced up, she saw raw terror reflected in his golden eyes. "The noise … the destruction, I've never seen its like before, and I fought in the Secession Wars. Even the largest dwarven flame-crawler is as nothing compared to these metal monstrosities. Their weapons destroyed entire swathes of the forest, shredded trees. Cavalry Commander Feld, he was trying to organize a withdrawal, but he and his mount were just … just … red mist."
Gasps and a frightened chorus of whispers ran through the tent.
"Silence!" Underwin barked, glaring at them. "We knew of their technology and weapons. Find your courage."
Horlastia smiled at the young officer. She approached and trailed her fingers over his head. "Please, soldier, continue."
"Against such an onslaught, General, we had no choice but to pull back. To stay and face that thunder would have been our end."
"Calm yourself. I'm sure you did what you could."
"Thank you, General. We still hold the southern riverbank for you."
"What remains of my kelpie cavalry?"
"Less than a hundred mounts, my General—but many are wounded and will surely die before sunrise."
She turned away to hide her displeasure. A hundred mounts? Barely a cavalry force at all now. Damn that idiot Feld! Outside, thunder rumbled, and she heard the sudden downfall of rain slapping the canvas overhead. She moved to the tent flaps and watched the rain become a downpour, hammering the ground in sheets. The sages were correct. We can cross the bridge now.
Thank the Spider Mother for that meager blessing.
"General," said Underwin, "what orders?"
"Strike the camp. We march south this night."
"But the manling weapons?" asked Kerstia, a tremor of fear in her young voice.
"Will not stop us," Horlastia said softly, still staring at the rain. "We cannot let them, no matter the cost. We must retrieve the orb. Whether we wish it or not, a battle is now upon us." She turned, burning with resolve. "The manling war chariots will burn as easily as their flying devices." She met Kerstia's eyes. "This time, we send
all our mage-wardens into the fray. And you, Kerstia, shall lead them."
Kerstia's head jerked back in surprise, then she bowed. "Yes, General. I will not let you down."
"My General," said Underwin, his gaze drifting to the young cavalry officer, who still knelt, blood from his scalp wound running down his neck, "this one needs to visit the mage-healers."
"No, he doesn't." She whipped her saber from her scabbard, the rune-etched blade flashing in the candlelight, and cut the young man's throat open to the bone with a single slash. The cavalry officer fell forward, grasping at his neck, his legs kicking feebly as he bled out. Horlastia shook her saber, casting away drops of blood as her eyes swept those crammed within the tent. Only Underwin's face showed no shock. He simply edged back from the spreading pool of blood. "We are fae seelie. We do not run from manlings. Once the army has crossed the river, arrest any surviving cavalry officers. We'll make an example of them."
"Yes, my General," said Underwin, snapping to attention and pounding his fist against his breastplate.
Horlastia stepped over the dying fae seelie officer and bent over the map. "Prepare the army," she said without looking up. "We go to war."
36
Alex, surprised at the strength of his emotions, hugged Elizabeth back as the soldiers from the infantry platoon attached to Recce Squadron moved among the survivors, providing water and helping with the still-unconscious Kargin and Aaron. Other soldiers moved forward, weapons at the ready, surveying the dead and dying dark elves and their strange black mounts. "You have no idea how happy I am to see the two of you alive. We assumed the worst when the Magic Kingdom was destroyed."
"It almost was 'the worst,'" said Cassie. "Way to show up in the nick of time, Alex."
Elizabeth drew back. "What took you so long?"
"The highway," he said sadly. "It's blocked by refugees. We almost didn't make it in time."
"Can't you help them?" Cassie asked.
Alex shook his head. "Sadly, no. The province is arranging transport and setting up a tent complex on the other side of the Kiskatinaw River, but there are probably twenty thousand people struggling along the highway, and we had to keep going to find out what was happening here. Do you—" He paused, noticing for the first time the large German shepherd that was happily nudging his hand with his head. He stared in confusion at the dog. "Clyde?"
"Alex!" said Paco, joining them. He held a carbine by its pistol grip as he rested the weapon against his shoulder but reached out with his free hand to squeeze Alex's forearm. "Que pasa, buddy?"
Alex looked from Clyde to Paco, his mouth open. A young native woman stood just behind Paco. "Paco? How the hell did you get here?"
The last time he had seen Paco, he was strapped to a medevac helicopter. Alex, arrested upon his return from Rubicon, had not been able to visit Paco, although General McKnight had told him Paco had been recovering well.
Paco exposed a toothy grin at Alex, pulled out his cigarettes, and lit one up, smoke drifting past his head. Although he looked much better than the last time Alex had seen him, Paco's face was dirty, his long hair disheveled, and he swayed slightly in place, clearly exhausted. "I said, 'how you doin', buddy?' Whatsa matter? You trying to catch flies?"
"Goddamn, Paco, it's good to see you again."
"Of course it is." Paco puffed from his cigarette, but Cassie stepped in, took the cigarette from his mouth, and inhaled from it. Paco shrugged and lit another, tossing his head toward the young native woman beside him. "This is my little sister, Leela—don't get any ideas, white man. She's way out of your league. Oh, and she's a mag-sens, too, just like Cassie and Elizabeth. That's probably important now."
"Huh—"
The young woman, breathtakingly beautiful and in her early twenties, with big brown eyes and long dark hair, glared at Paco then stepped forward and shook Alex's hand. "Nice to meet you. Ignore my idiot of an older brother. Our mother dropped him on his head when he was a baby—several times."
Paco shrugged. "Eh, I was a squirmer."
The family resemblance, now that Alex looked for it, was clear. "Alex Benoit," he said, squeezing her hand. "You're … you're a mag-sens? How is that possible?"
"Long story," said Paco.
"Just be glad she was here," said Elizabeth as she pointed to the shattered shafts of dozens of crossbow bolts lying before them. "Leela can do things neither Cassie nor I can."
Alex stared at the shattered missiles. Each looked as though it had been fired point-blank into a concrete wall. "I'm not sure I—"
"Heard you were in the slammer," said Paco, exhaling a cloud of smoke. "You out early for good behavior, or is this an alien-invasion-end-of-the-world sort of thing?"
Before he could answer, a heavyset, middle-aged woman in glasses nearly bowled him over in her rush to embrace him. Dr. Helena Simmons, looking as though she had been wearing the same pantsuit for days, her face smeared with dirt, crushed Alex against her. "Alex. I'm so happy to see you. I thought we were dead for sure."
They had never been close friends, but Alex had been the senior Canadian officer working for McKnight, and the two of them had history as colleagues. Helena Simmons was probably the most intelligent person he had ever met, an undisputed subject-matter expert in quantum physics and string theory, but a little aloof and odd at the best of times. Taken aback by her uncharacteristic display of affection, he hesitated before softly patting her back. "I … it's good to see you, too, Helena. You're safe now."
When she released him, Alex leaned back against a tree, letting his rifle hang from its sling as he took in the surviving Task Force Devil soldiers, the three mag-sens—and that alone blew his mind—Helena, Paco, and Clyde. "So who wants to tell me what's going on?"
They all began to speak at once, talking over one another. Alex shook his head in bewilderment, amazed that so many of his friends still lived. On the highway behind him, other armored vehicles, Coyotes and LAVs, were now arriving. Some pulled into the woods, traversing their turrets to the north, while others remained on the highway, their engines belching diesel fumes. The infantry moved forward, excitedly examining the wounded and dead aliens. They began to tend the wounded dark elves, while others maintained an all-around watch. Among the arriving vehicles, Alex saw Gus's command Coyote. The Recce Squadron commander would be expecting a report from Alex. He raised his hands, palms out, silencing the others. "Everybody wait. I need to see someone, but we'll talk when I get back."
AFTER ALEX REPORTED the quick details of the firefight to Gus, he introduced his friend to the men and women they had just saved. Despite the now-heavy rainfall, causing everyone to shiver uncontrollably, the survivors took turns going over the events of the last two days. While they spoke, some of the soldiers handed out raingear and ponchos, while others distributed warm MREs and water bottles. It was Elizabeth's turn now, and when she described the dragon attack and Clara's death, it was like a knife-thrust to Alex's gut. Clara had not only been a close friend, but she was also a damned fine soldier, one he had served with in Afghanistan. He wasn't surprised she had died fighting or that she had sacrificed her life so that Elizabeth could escape. Elizabeth, though, was a wreck, her voice filled with raw anguish. She broke into tears, and Cassie hugged her. Clearly, I've missed a lot in the last year, Alex thought. He placed his hand atop Elizabeth's shoulder. "Nobody could ever make Clara Anderson do something she didn't want to, Elizabeth. We'll honor her sacrifice later."
"I'll make them pay," Elizabeth said with startling anger.
Cassie took over while Elizabeth found her composure once again. She described how she and the others had escaped the fire but had been captured by the dark elves before being near-miraculously rescued by Elizabeth, Paco, Leela, an RCMP officer, and—unbelievably—a dark-elf mage and her warrior dwarf.
"Wait," Gus said, interrupting Cassie. "You have aliens with you?"
"Only one," said Cassie sadly. "The other, the dark elf, died helping us escape an attack."
"And
you can … talk to them?" Alex asked.
"Tlathia and Kargin learned English from me, sort of," said Elizabeth. "It's a long story, but it involves magic and dwarven crowns."
Gus looked skeptically at her then Alex. "Dwarves?"
"Kargin is a dwarf," said Elizabeth simply.
"This dwarf, is he dead as well?" asked Gus.
Cassie shook her head. "Wounded. I tried to heal him, but ... well, there was only so much I could do. Your people took him away. Maybe he'll wake up."
Gus looked from Cassie to Alex. "You … healed him? With magic?"
Alex met Gus's eyes and nodded. "Cassie is a mag-sens, Gus. As crazy as all this sounds, this is what they do. They're part of Task Force Devil and Operation Rubicon."
"Okay," said Gus. "We'll work this shit out later." He turned to face Sergeant Major Ouellet, who stood nearby. "Sergeant Major, where's this dwarf? What's going on with the wounded?"
"Gone, sir. The ambulance Bison already took them back to the A Echelon, about ten klicks to the south. We provided emergency aid to the enemy wounded but left them in place."
"Do you have a doctor at this A Echelon?" Cassie asked.
Gus shook his head. "Just a medic, but she's real good at her job."
"Can't you fly them to a hospital?" Elizabeth asked. "Like you did for Paco?"
"Can't," Gus answered. "We're in a no-fly zone right now. After what happened to 408 Squadron, there's just no way." He wiped rain from his face. " This is crazy. Elves, dwarves, and dragons—and now I've shot up a bunch of aliens and their weird-ass horses. Okay, I've heard all I need for now. We need to get gone before more aliens show up." He turned to face Sergeant Major Ouellet again. "Find everyone a ride, Sergeant Major. I want to roll in ten."
"Ack, sir," said the sergeant major.
MINUTES LATER, Alex and Gus stood alone near the rear of a running Coyote. "You've seen this magic shit for yourself?" Gus asked him, leaning in so Alex could hear him over the engine.
"I have. Take it seriously. It's the ultimate force multiplier, especially Elizabeth. She's like a weapons system, your very own artillery battery. But the dark-elf mages are much more powerful."
Gunz Page 27
