Capture (The Machinists Book 4)

by Craig Andrews

  They’re nervous, Jaxon realized. They don’t know if the watchtower fell on its own, or if it was the first move in a larger attack.

  The time for them to learn the truth was quickly approaching. Roughly twenty or thirty Knights had piled out of the barrack by now, many of them armed. If he waited too much longer, they wouldn’t be able to win the opening salvo so decisively. He was walking a knife’s edge. He needed to wait long enough that a large number of Knights would be eliminated in the first few moments, but not so long that the Knights would be able to put up an effective counterattack.

  Within only the span of a few breaths, Jaxon had the eyes of every squad leader on him. They waited for his mark. He couldn’t shout the order without alerting the Knights to their presence, but he could do the next best thing.

  Jaxon stepped from his hiding place and hurled a lance of ice at one of the armed guards, propelling it forward with a blast of air. Then in a blink, he shot a second lance toward a different guard. The ice zipped through the darkness, nearly invisible, and as the lances struck their targets, the magi assault began in full force.

  The first volley of attacks cut through the Knights with terrifying efficiency. In a single devastating wave, roughly half of the Knights were down. It was tough to say how many of them were wounded or dead since those who remained unhurt dove to the ground, frantically searching the darkness, finding themselves surrounded.

  Ice already re-forming in his hands, Jaxon pressed the advantage. He launched another volley, wielded again, spun, and shot a third. The other magi around him did the same. Screams rose from the battlefield, frantic and terrified, but as the battle continued, the cries of the fallen dwindled until there was only the sound of the magi attacks.

  In one final act of desperation, the remaining Knights jumped to their feet and ran for the doors of the barrack. Jaxon was already wielding again, though, and hurled a fireball at their backs. It connected with the unfortunate guard bringing up the rear, exploding with a brilliant flash of orange death. The Knights were thrown forward. Two crashed through the doors and were tossed into the barrack headfirst. The others crashed into the brick exterior with a sickening sound.

  The battlefield went quiet. The magi objective had been to draw out as many Knights as possible and squash them. In that, they had succeeded, but Jaxon stamped down the feeling of triumph, knowing it was only the opening frame of the battle. In mere moments the battle would begin in earnest.

  Chapter 27

  Allyn slipped through a narrow alley, leaving the sounds of battle behind. He and the rest of his squad—which included, Ren, Leira, and Canary—were headed north toward the building Mason had identified as the Knight Commander’s residence. Since the magi prisoners seemed to be held elsewhere, the battle plan had two priorities: destroy the Knights’ force and reclaim the Blood Wand.

  The building they moved toward was a mustard-colored two-story Victorian-style house with a large porch that wrapped around three sides of the home. Built within the cold precision of the military base, the white pillars that framed the elevated front entrance felt like they were from another world.

  The damp ground muffled their footsteps, and even here the magi had to take care to avoid the broken bricks, glass, and rotten timber that littered the ground. Making for the house, they moved down a stone path edged with a waist-high stone wall, benches, and decorative trees.

  Avoiding the front entrance, Allyn made for a nondescript door that had likely been used as a separate servants’ entrance. The door was a natural dark brown in color and adorned with several small square windows. The entire structure seemed to be in surprisingly good shape—even the windows in the door were intact.

  He took hold of the tarnished brass door handle and turned it. To his surprise, the handle moved without resistance. Keeping the door closed, Allyn looked to Leira.

  “Is anyone inside?” he asked.

  She closed her eyes and held a hand in front of her as if reaching for something. The first time Allyn had seen the gesture, he hadn’t understood it, but he had since grown to rely on the magi ability. In addition to being able to heal more quickly than other magi and use their own bodies to treat the wounded, a cleric could also sense life forces around them. Like many things, it was a skill that could be honed and improved, and Leira, by her own admission, wasn’t as good at the ability as Nyla had been.

  Nyla… I wish you were here with us.

  Leira opened her eyes and dropped her hand, shaking her head.

  “Nobody?” Allyn asked, his voice a deep whisper.

  “I can’t be sure,” Leira said quietly. “But I don’t think so.”

  Allyn turned to Canary. The girl’s yellow-and-black streaked hair was hidden under a hood. “Any transmissions coming in or out?”

  Canary shook her head. “Quiet.”

  “That’s good enough for me,” Allyn said. “But be on guard. Sedric has a history of cutting bait and fleeing when it looks like they’re going to lose. If he does, he might come back to retrieve something he left behind. Stay vigilant.”

  Taking hold of the handle again, Allyn gave it another turn then carefully pulled open the door. Ren was the first one inside. She held translucent shards of ice that were nearly invisible in the darkness. Leira was next, followed closely by Canary, with Allyn bringing up the rear.

  They entered a room that might have once been used as a communal area. A hearth was set into one wall, its inside black with soot but otherwise clean. In fact, Allyn was again taken aback by the condition of the house. The tiled floors showed their age and were covered in dust, and the paint on the interior walls was peeling, but there was no garbage or vandalism like in the other buildings.

  Closing the door behind him, Allyn listened for signs of the Knight Commander or anyone else within the home.

  Nothing.

  Confident they were alone, Allyn led his squad out of the room, moving toward the front entrance where the stairwell led to the second story. If the Blood Wand was in the house, Allyn expected it to be in Sedric’s room, and that, he assumed, was upstairs.

  The stairwell connected to a wide hallway that extended in either direction.

  “Ren,” Allyn said, still keeping his voice quiet. “Take Leira and search that wing of the house. I’ll take Canary and see what we can find on this side.”

  Ren nodded, and she and Leira moved deeper into the house. Allyn and Canary moved in the opposite direction, quickly searching a pair of rooms on the left side of the hall and finding nothing. Allyn had eyes on a separate door, though.

  The door at the end of the hall was cracked, giving him a partial view into what looked like a much larger space. He made for it, ignoring another door to his right.

  The door at the end of the hall opened with a gentle squeal. Light from the moon and stars poured in through a pair of large windows, illuminating the space with a cold white light. Even though the furnishings were meager—a cot for a bed, an overturned milk crate for a table, and a single lamp with a naked bulb—Allyn instantly knew it was the Knight Commander’s quarters.

  At the other end of the room was a dresser with an ornate mirror, and hanging from a doorless closet was a set of neatly pressed uniforms. Allyn stepped up to the dresser, pulling open drawers and searching through the underclothes for the Blood Wand. Not finding it, he dropped to his hands and knees, peering under the piece of furniture. It wasn’t there, either.

  “Anything?” he asked as Canary stepped from the closet.

  She shook her head.

  A cold sweat washed over his body. Something didn’t feel right. He couldn’t put a finger on it, but an uneasy feeling nagged at the back of his brain.

  “Any communications?” he asked again.

  Canary’s face went blank as she turned her attention to the incoming and outgoing transmiss
ions. “No.”

  “Nothing here in this house, or nothing at all?”

  “There’s always something.”

  “I meant anything from the Knights?”

  Her eyes went distant again, her previous blank expression returning. Not knowing how long it would take Canary to sift through the various radio waves, Allyn looked out the window, searching the night for movement. He thought he saw something, but when he didn’t see it again, he chalked it up to either a trick of the darkness or his imagination playing games with him.

  “Nothing,” Canary said behind him, breaking the silence.

  “Nothing at all?”

  She shook her head.

  Allyn made a disapproving face. The Knights were under attack by a powerful, if relatively unknown, force. They didn’t know the size of the magi number, what equipment they had at their disposal, or how they were placed strategically. Allyn wasn’t a military man and hadn’t been trained in the art of tactics, but even he saw the flaw in that. Good communication was as important as anything in battle, so what in the hell were the Knights doing?

  “Come on,” Allyn said.

  He stepped hastily toward the door… and came face to face with Knight Commander Sedric Lang.

  “Allyn, Allyn, Allyn,” Sedric said, his face splitting into a smile. “I just knew I would find you here.”

  Chapter 28

  Gunfire rained down from the barrack windows. The magi force, thirty-two magi in all—or what was left of them—returned fire. Picking targets at random, they focused on the muzzle flashes in the broken windows.

  Jaxon had lost track of how long they’d been fighting, but already, the battle was taking a toll on him. He felt it in the fatigue of his limbs. His legs felt heavy, his arms hung like lead weights at his sides, and his voice was hoarse from shouting orders. But more than anything, he felt it in the way his body was responding to his repeated magi attacks.

  Magic had a cost, and Jaxon knew he was paying the price by the dull headache, dizziness, and dry skin that was brought on by using too much of his body’s water. He knew it by his low energy levels and sudden lack of coordination, all signs of hypothermia caused by drawing out too much of his body heat.

  He ducked behind a stack of broken concrete slabs, dropping to a crouch and resting against the rough white blocks. Reaching into the neckline of his compression armor, he pulled out a thin blue tube and removed the cork from its end. He took a long drink. The water was warm and tasted like the polyethylene bag that it was stored in—the same bag that was strapped to his back under his compression armor.

  Knowing they were likely entering into a prolonged assault, each of the magi had been equipped with one. Hypothermia brought on by relying too heavily on fireballs couldn’t be avoided, but dehydration could.

  Jaxon took another long pull, taking the moment to survey his squad and the ones that surrounded them. His magi were weary and showing signs of the same symptoms Jaxon was suffering from. Michael’s face was in a perpetual grimace now, the kind he made when he was pushing himself too hard.

  They can’t last much longer. Not under these conditions. We have to sway the momentum of the battle, now, before it’s too late.

  He pulled his phone from his pocket and called the arch mage. Westarra was still leading the battle from the safety of the forest. Once he answered, Jaxon quickly gave him his update.

  “Well done, Jaxon,” Arch Mage Westarra said. “I’m sending in the bulls now. You’ll have your extra firepower in two minutes.”

  “Thank you, Your Grace.” Jaxon hung up and took another deep drink. He stood up, stumbled, and had to lean into the pile to keep from falling over. Andrew and Topher saw him, their bloodied faces contorting with concern.

  Jaxon stood up straighter, masking the dizziness with a smile, and slapped each of them on the back. “Reinforcements are coming.” Then louder so the rest of his squad and the other magi nearby could hear, he said, “The arch mage has ordered in the bulls. Stay vigilant. It’s time to use the Knights’ own firepower against them!”

  In the distance, Jaxon could already hear the rumble of the BearCats approaching. Codenamed “the bulls,” Jaxon and Arch Mage Westarra had devised a strategy built on the brute force of the Knights’ vehicles, and it was one of many they’d come up with that could be leveraged within a moment’s time.

  A cheer went up from inside the barrack as the BearCats thundered into view.

  They think the BearCats are their own reinforcements, Jaxon realized. They’re in for a rude awakening.

  “They’re gathering at the windows,” Michael said.

  Michael was right. Jaxon could make out several shadows behind many of the windows.

  “Good,” Jaxon said. “Our magi are tired and drained. We can’t let this extend much longer.”

  “It’s going to get bloodier.”

  The cheer grew louder as the BearCats approached, only to falter as they didn’t make for the assembled magi and, instead, parked parallel to the front of the barracks between the two forces.

  Several of the dark shadows near the barracks windows disappeared, no doubt taking a nervous step away from their exposed positions. It was too late, though. The magi inside the BearCats opened fire, launching grenades toward the broken barracks windows. Being the only one who had ever shot the weapons before, Nolan had run the magi through a crash course on how to fire the gun-mounted grenade launchers earlier in the night. Like most guns, they weren’t overly complicated to use. Point. Shoot. Repeat. But also, like most guns, there was a learning curve.

  Only half of the 40mm grenades launched from the open hatches of the BearCats hit their mark. The others bounced off the front of the compound, detonating on the ground dangerously close to the vehicles themselves. Inside the barracks, the Knights moved back into action, their temporary reprieve disappearing.

  Gunfire hammered the BearCats, sending sparks shooting into the darkness as the magi reloaded and sent a second volley toward the enemy. Much like the first attack, half of the grenades found their targets, exploding inside the barracks, while more bounced against the ground outside. Only this time the misses were more catastrophic.

  Jaxon watched as a grenade canister bounced off the barracks, rebounding with more force than he’d expected, and rolled under one of the BearCats. The muffled explosion threw the vehicle onto its side, wiping out a third of their heavy force in a single instant.

  Despite the mistake, the magi attack was having an effect. Smoke from exploded grenades billowed out of several windows, and while there was no way to tell how many of the enemy they had taken out, Jaxon was willing to bet the number was substantial.

  Movement to his right caught his attention. One of the other squads was advancing.

  No, not advancing. They were making for the damaged BearCat.

  The Knights saw them too and opened fire, and before Jaxon could do anything, two of the magi fell.

  “Give them cover!” Jaxon sent a fireball flying toward the Knights firing on the advancing squad. Half a second later, the rest of his squad was doing the same.

  From their distance, the attacks largely missed their mark but were enough to force the Knights to take cover and give the rescue force a few more precious seconds to reach their destination.

  When the Knights reopened fire, they focused on Jaxon’s squad, halting the onslaught, forcing the magi to take cover.

  When Jaxon mustered up the courage to peek at the rescue, he saw that the magi had opened one of the larger BearCat hatches and were inside the vehicle. A couple short breaths later, the magi exited the vehicle carrying the fallen on their shoulders, the rest providing cover for their retreat.

  “Again!” Jaxon shouted before launching a new series of fireballs toward the enemy. He took cover the moment the attacks were on their
way, narrowly avoiding the Knights’ next counterattack. Rocky shrapnel sliced the exposed skin of his arms and coated his dark skin with white dust.

  “If we’re going to do this,” Michael shouted from his nearby cover, “we need to do it now.”

  He was right. At some point during the battle, the magi within the BearCats had shifted to firing their guns instead of their grenade launchers, a sign that they were out of grenades.

  “Form up!” Jaxon said. “We’re going in!”

  Without a word, the two sub squads fell into position behind their squad leaders. Jaxon took three sharp breaths and darted toward the barracks, his men right on his heels. The magi within the BearCats continued their attack, using the Knights’ own weapons against them and keeping them preoccupied. Their work allowed Jaxon’s and Michael’s sub squads to make it to the exterior wall of the barracks without incident.

  They waited there for a moment, allowing the other squads to get into position. Roughly thirty magi in all, they formed up with their backs to the wall, crouching so that their heads were below the first-story windows.

  Jaxon readied himself, preparing to give the order to advance, when something caught his attention.

  Gunfire—coming from the forest, where Arch Mage Westarra commanded the battle with the magi reserve force.

  Jaxon focused on the distant sounds of battle, his blood turning to ice. He knew what his orders were—they were more important than anything else—but the sounds of battle were unmistakable. Had the enemy somehow slipped behind the magi lines? The consequences of such a development would be catastrophic. He hesitated, running through possible scenarios in his head.

  “Something’s wrong,” Jaxon said, his eyes still on the forest. “Michael, take the squads and carry on. Nolan, you’re with me.”