The Mage War

by Ben S. Dobson

  “Ah,” said Bastian. “About that. He lowered his voice, fluttered closer. “We brought more talismans, of course, all we could make. A few hundred.” He indicated a handful of men and women following just behind him, all of them carrying laden satchels. “I had thought to distribute them where the need was greatest, but when people learn there aren’t enough for everyone, I fear things may become… tense.”

  “No,” said Tinga. “No, they came together for each other. They’ll understand. Let me handle it.” She looked to Lefty. “Make me loud enough for everyone to hear again.”

  He did, with a few chanted words in the lingua.

  Tinga turned to face the crowd once more. “I need everyone to listen to me carefully,” she announced, her voice booming across the waterfront. She wasn’t projected into the sky this time, but still it took her a moment to adjust to hearing herself so loud. Thousands of faces turned toward her. Astra, I’ll never get used to this. “We have artifacts like the one I showed you before. Talismans to protect against this spell.”

  A ragged cheer rose from the weary crowd—those who had the strength left to cheer, at least.

  “Wait,” Tinga said, raising her hands to quell the noise. “It’s… not what you’re hoping for. There aren’t enough to go around. Only a few hundred.”

  The scattered cheers choked off, became cries of distress. “That’s not fair!” and “Please, my son first!” and “I need one, here!” People began to jostle to get nearer, shove against one another.

  “Stop!” Tinga shouted, and the effort of it made the world spin. She swayed on her feet, put a hand to her head. It felt like she was balanced on the edge of a chasm; one wrong step, and she’d topple in, and take everyone else with her. I have to get this right.

  “Tinga?” Cestra’s voice. Her hands grasped Tinga’s shoulders, steadying her. “I’ve got you.”

  “I’m alright,” Tinga said, and winced as Lefty’s spell sent the words roaring too loud across the waterfront. She raised her eyes to the crowd once more. “Please, listen to me. Nothing’s changed. We still need to work together to get through this. If we turn on one another, we’re done. We have to keep our numbers up to slow the siphon, which means helping the people who are most vulnerable first. Children and the elderly, but there are others, too—there’s no way to predict who this thing will hit the hardest. I need you to look around you and find the people who are suffering most. Help them. Bring them to us. It’s the only way this is going to work.”

  More raised voices answered, more angry shouts, more desperate begging and fighting to get closer. Astra, they’re not listening. She didn’t know what else to say.

  And then one deep, sonorous voice rose above the rest. “Here.”

  Tinga was too short to see much beyond the nearest row of people, but even so there was no mistaking who had spoken. A towering ogren woman was wading toward her, statuesque head and shoulders rising far above the rest. The jostling and shoving for position wasn’t enough to stop her; she pushed easily past men and women who didn’t even stand as tall as her chest. And as she drew near, Tinga could see that she was carrying a child in her arms. Not hers; far too small for that. It was a young gnomish girl, barely moving.

  She reached Tinga and the others, knelt with the little girl clutched to her chest. “She needs help.”

  The gnomish girl’s eyes were closed; her chest barely rose and fell with the shallowness of her breath. Please, don’t let us be too late.

  Tinga didn’t wait for Bastian’s people to provide a talisman. Instead, she pulled out the one she’d stowed in her own pocket and jabbed it into the girl’s arm.

  The pin had barely broken the skin before the girl gasped a deep breath. Her eyes fluttered open, focused on the huge ogren woman carrying her. “Who… who are you? Where’s my mommy?”

  The ogren’s face broke into a relieved smile. “We’ll find her for you, little one.”

  And that was all it took. Anyone with eyes and ears could see that this woman didn’t know the little girl she’d saved, had done it only because she could. Because the only way forward was for all of them to save each other. More shouts came, then, but the tenor of them had changed. “Over here, here’s one!” and “Help me get him through!” People shifted and moved, but no longer just to force their own way through. Now, they parted to let others pass, supporting or carrying the weakest of them toward Tinga.

  And even against the sucking cold in her chest, it suddenly didn’t feel too hard to smile anymore. Beaming, Tinga addressed the crowd. “Show us where we’re needed! We’ll help everyone we can!”

  Bastian signalled several of his friends, and they began to move through the crowd, handing out talismans from their satchels as they went. They could have been mobbed, overpowered, robbed of their artifacts, but they weren’t. Instead, escorts gathered around them, helping them pick their way toward the most afflicted.

  “Well look at that,” Lefty said softly. His scowl had lessened, if only just. “Ain’t somethin’ I expected I’d see today.”

  Cestra leaned her head on Tinga’s shoulder. “I did. I know the girl who did the asking.”

  Tinga said nothing—she didn’t have the words left in her. She just put her arm around Cestra and watched. For a moment, she could almost believe they were going to make this work.

  It didn’t last.

  Tinga felt the shield shatter as much as she saw it—a great magical surge tore through one of the silver barriers that had been holding back the knights in the street to the east.

  At first, she couldn’t tell what had happened, assumed the knights and golems had just broken through at last. But then she caught a glimpse of something else pouring through the opening, starting to work on the shield pylons. A flash of color she hadn’t expected.

  Not black cowls, but blue caps.

  A man’s voice bellowed across the waterfront, magically enhanced as hers had been. “This is Chief Constable Andus Durren! This is an unlawful gathering. Disperse immediately!”

  Indree swore under her breath. “The constabulary. The knights already had our mages outnumbered, but at least they’re untrained. Now we’re going to have to contend with experienced combat mages.”

  Durren’s voice rang out again. “Everyone present, return to your homes, or we will be forced—”

  A growing mass of screams swallowed the rest, even with the spell carrying his voice. The cries filled Tinga’s ears, drowned out everything else. She turned toward the sound, to the crowd along the waterfront. People were staring up at the sky, pointing and yelling. Some dove for cover—even some of Durren’s bluecaps. Those who didn’t at least halted their advance, startled and confused.

  Tinga looked up.

  Scales glinting in the sunlight, two silver dragons soared across the sky overhead, making for the harbor.

  _____

  Tane clung to Syllesk’s neck with all his might, fighting every instinct in him that cried out to squeeze his eyes shut. Wind whipped at his hair and clothes, felt like it would tear him from his perch if he relaxed for even an instant. At first, the mild Astral warmth of Syllesk’s presence had soothed him slightly; now, he hardly noticed it was there at all.

  Below, the rooftops of Porthaven flashed by in a blur. Ahead, Iskar led them toward the blue expanse of the harbor, and the airships and dragon waiting on the other side. Fewer than a dozen Estian ships remained, but they were still trying their luck at escape, only to be driven back time and time again by the superior power of Endo’s blockade. Most of the Audish and Belgrian ships had reached the shore now. And gathered along the edge of the water beside those ships, a crowd of several thousand had gathered. Towards the edges, a black mass of figures that had to be Endo’s Knights of the Emperor closed in from all sides, and silver shields and flashes of magical force caught his eyes here and there. They pulled it off. That’s got to be enough to slow it down, if anything can.

  Beside him, flying atop Nevka, Kadka had her head thrown b
ack, her shaggy white hair ruffling in the wind, a look of wild exultation on her face. Despite everything, she was enjoying herself. I keep forgetting she’s a crazy person.

  Kadka looked over, caught his eyes, and laughed at his obvious fear—he couldn’t hear it from this distance, but it wasn’t hard to interpret the open mouth and the mirth in her eyes.

  They were over the water now, further out every moment. If I fall here, I won’t make it back to shore. He clutched Syllesk tighter.

  Syllesk craned her head back toward him as she flew. “It’s alright, Uncle Tane. I won’t drop you.”

  Now that was all he could think about, but even so, he managed to choke out, “I trust you.”

  Kadka gestured to get his attention, pointed ahead. Endo had seen them coming. His dragon was flying out to meet them. It was larger than either Syllesk or Nevka, maybe half their size again, its growth accelerated by Endo’s Astral tampering.

  Iskar fell back beside Kadka for a moment, and then crossed the distance to Tane, close enough to shout. “We’ll try to distract it while Syllesk gets you aboard! Once it’s dealt with, we’ll follow!”

  Tane just nodded, every muscle in his body tensed with the effort of hanging on.

  Endo’s dragon was nearly on them. From a distance, Tane could almost have fooled himself into thinking it looked like its siblings, but now the mechanical alterations were clearly visible, the parts Endo had attached to repair the damage his magic had done. Limbs of brass were fastened to short twisted stumps where legs should have been, and a metallic joint connected stretched, torn wing tissue to the creature’s shoulder. As terrifying as it was, Tane couldn’t help but pity the poor thing. It hadn’t asked to be stolen from its family and turned into this.

  And then there was no more time for pity, because it was diving right at them.

  Iskar and Nevka moved to intercept. Endo’s dragon breathed silver fire at them as they came, but they dodged to either side, converged on the creature. Iskar harried it along the flanks, darting in with quick bursts of his own fire, small enough to maintain without having to spend long recharging. He focused on weak points—the joints where metal and artifice met flesh. The dragon tried to wheel on Iskar, grab him in its massive jaws, but the distraction had allowed Nevka and Kadka to get in close. Nevka grabbed his stolen sibling’s left wing in his big foreclaws, holding the bigger dragon in place.

  “Now, Syllesk!” Tane shouted.

  Syllesk lowered her head and rushed for the Hesliar, silver wings slashing through the air.

  A roar came from behind, and Tane looked back. Endo’s dragon had torn itself free, overpowered Nevka with its greater size. It turned to pursue Syllesk. But the Hesliar was within reach, now, no more than a few hundred yards away. We’re going to make it. And if Syllesk could reach the deck, a dragon on board would be leverage that Endo would be hard pressed to ignore.

  They approached the Hesliar at an angle, coming up along the port side. As they neared, a sudden pain filled Tane’s ears, a sharp increase in the high altitude pressure that was already there.

  “Tane.” Endo’s voice. “If you wanted to be at my side for my victory, you only had to ask. Of course you should witness this.”

  A chill that was far more than just the wind went down Tane’s back. “Then you won’t complain if I bring my friend here with me.”

  “Oh, I don’t think that will be necessary. Allow me.”

  Whips of magical force burst from the Hesliar to grab Tane’s arms. His grip around Syllesk’s neck was no match for their strength. In an instant, he was flying free through the open air, hurtling toward the airship. The tendrils wrenched him beneath the big silver envelope at terrifying speed, and slowed only when he was within yards of the deck. The exterior door to the bridge swung open as he came near.

  Then, with surprising gentleness, the silver cords set him down on his feet, just inside the bridge.

  At the ship’s instrument panel, Endo Stooke wheeled his chair around, and smiled coldly. “I’m so glad you could make it.”

  Behind Tane, the door slammed shut.

  Chapter Eighteen

  _____

  INDREE DIDN’T DUCK for cover as the dragons flew by above. She knew why they were there and where they were going.

  Instead, she gestured for Tinga and the others to follow her. “Come on.” She strode down the street, toward Chief Durren and his constables, while all around her people screamed and dove to the ground. If this bought her time to get into position, she wasn’t going to waste it.

  As they moved, Tinga’s voice—carried by Lefty’s spell—rang across the waterfront, trying to calm the crowd. “They’re not here to hurt us! They’re on our side!” Even amplified, it was hard to make out over the sounds of panic. It was only when the two silver dragons started to clash with Endo’s larger one in the sky over the harbor that the message began to sink in. The screaming lessened, and then turned into to an uncertain cheer.

  Indree glanced up at that, saw that one of the smaller dragons had grabbed the larger one, and now the two were wrestling in the sky. Another of Iskar’s siblings used the opportunity to dart for the Hesliar.

  Hurry, Tane. But she couldn’t do anything to help him now, and she had to focus on the situation here on the ground.

  Durren had brought more than a hundred constables with him, and they were already recovering from their momentary confusion at the appearance of more dragons. They’d resumed work on breaking through the shield pylons. Some threw force spells at the shields, while others with far-away diviner’s eyes were clearly working to pick them apart Astrally. That combination would get the quickest result—all the diviners had to do was weaken the shields enough for direct spells to break through. They used pylons like these themselves, and knew their weaknesses. University mages threw spells to distract them, but the constables were trained to hold their own defenses while they worked, and nothing got through.

  Indree moved to the front, beside the fighters and mages waiting at the ready. Through the shimmering barriers, she could see Andus Durren—he was no more than a hundred feet away, his thinning red hair wild around his temples, his cheeks red from bellowing as he directed the efforts to take down the pylons. Their eyes met.

  Durren’s voice was already magically amplified. “Ah. I should have known. Notorious fugitives and traitors Indree Lovial and Tinga Vreeg.” He said their names pointedly, let his spell carry them across the waterfront. “Proof that this is an unlawful assembly, if you’re behind it.” He raised an eyebrow as he noticed Chancellor Greymond. “And the University Chancellor? You should know better than to keep the company of traitors and criminals and disgraced ex-constables.” He gestured from Indree and Tinga to Bastian and Lefty, and his lips curled into a smug smile under his mustache. “I’m afraid we’ll have to take you all in, and send the rest of these people home.”

  With a few muttered words, Indree enhanced her own voice to match. He was picking his words to try to manipulate the people listening, and she wasn’t going to let him get away with it. “You’re not even trying to hide your loyalties, are you, Andus? Break these people up and you’re taking away the only chance they have. Doing the knights’ job for them. Why am I not surprised?”

  Durren’s smile fell into a scowl, and his cheeks darkened. “I am breaking up a riot, Lovial. Well within my legal jurisdiction. I’m sure the other side would be happy to leave, if your lot agrees to.”

  “Because they know that’s all it will take to kill us!” Tinga threw back, still under the effects of Lefty’s amplification spell. “They know what happens if we don’t stay together!”

  “So you are resisting a lawful order to disperse?” Durren didn’t bother to conceal the obvious threat in the question.

  “I am doing the job I swore to do,” Indree answered. And then she turned her eyes to the rest of the constabulary, diligently working to take down the pylons. If she could get through to even one of them, she had to try. “The job all of
you swore to do. You know this isn’t right. There’s a coup happening, and you’re trying to arrest innocent people. Chief Durren is working with Endo Stooke, the so-called Emperor. The men trying to take our streets by force? He’s one of them. This shouldn’t come as a revelation to any of you, if you’d just look at the people you’re standing beside.” She jabbed a finger toward the black-clad Knights of the Emperor, who had parted to let the constables through. “Men in robes and masks, golems like the one that terrorized Thaless not long ago!”

  Most of the constables held their positions, focused on their work, a rigid unit of blue-uniformed precision. But Indree saw some of them glance uncomfortably at the knights. Her words weren’t falling entirely on deaf ears.

  The shields cast by the pylons began to flicker. They wouldn’t last much longer. Which meant she didn’t have much time left for talking, either.

  Indree’s hands went to her baton and pistol, but she didn’t stop. “Maybe some of you don’t have a problem with that. I imagine some who did have already been dealt with, killed and put under Endo’s control. But it can’t be all of you. There’s going to be a massacre of non-magical citizens if we don’t stop it. So anyone who still can, you have a choice to make. You can follow orders, or you can follow the oath you swore, to protect the people of this city. If that still means anything to you, then do your job.”

  The shields flickered one last time, and failed.

  For a moment, no one moved. Both sides stood, staring at each other.

  And then Durren grabbed one of his men, and shoved him forward. “What are you waiting for? Get her!”

  They advanced. Or at least, most of them did. The ones loyal to Durren. But some hesitated, held back. Not even half, but a few dozen, and that meant fewer of them to fight. Some even did more than hesitate, actually moved to grab those beside them.