The Restorer

by Sharon Hinck

  I nodded. Time had been rushing, then stalling, then hurtling forward again like a bizarre carnival ride. Now we were poised on a tall pinnacle about to plummet. There was no way back. “So we go forward,” I said softly, thinking of Mark.

  I had wondered how I would feel when this day before the battle came. I didn’t have the fear and wavering I had expected. But I didn’t feel excitement or confidence either. I was relieved that the waiting was almost over. I felt resolve. This was the path I had to follow, and with the help of the One, I would walk it tomorrow. And I felt tired.

  “Did you hear what Linette is planning?” Kieran asked.

  I straightened and looked at him, pulling myself out of my thoughts with an effort. “How is she?”

  “She’s . . . focused. She’s working with Lukyan. They’ve called for everyone in the village to gather at first light to sing the Verses.”

  “That’s terrific!”

  Kieran shrugged. “I suppose it will keep folks from panicking . . . keep them out of trouble.”

  I knew he was needling me on purpose, waiting for my reaction, but I couldn’t stop myself. I stood up and glared down at him. “One of these days you’re going to admit how powerful the One is, and how important His Verses are, Kieran of Braide Wood.”

  The smile he gave me had genuine affection in it. “Please tell me that’s just your opinion and not some Restorer prophecy.”

  I couldn’t hold on to my frown. I laughed and shook my head.

  He pushed himself off the boulder and stood in front of me, offering his hand. We clasped forearms. “Fight well tomorrow. Watch your back.” Then he released me and disappeared among the trees.

  I realized that I should have sent a message back with him. There were things I wanted to tell Tara, and Kendra, and Linette. But he was gone.

  Tomorrow I’d have my chance to let them know how much the One loved them. How much I loved them. I looked down on Braide Wood one last time.

  The Restorer would be the message.

  Chapter

  32

  The murmur of voices woke me well before first light. I had dozed restlessly throughout the night and kept dreaming about the attic.

  Mark was hammering the flooring into place, with a supply of nails pressed between his lips and a frown of concentration on his face. He drove the last nail home and turned to me and smiled. I ran to hug him and smelled the sawdust on his clothes.

  Then I’d roll over and a rock would jab my ribs, and I’d wake up to the reality of the dank cave.

  My fingers fumbled in the darkness for a heat trivet. I thumbed the lever and a soft glow lit up a bubble of space around me. My clothes and weapons were lined up along the wall of the cave. I moved slowly, as if enacting a ceremony as I dressed and armed myself. The tunic went on first, and I smoothed down the emblem of Rendor that was sewn in place over my chest. Mark would be riding with me today, if only in his symbol near my heart. I slipped on the trousers that Tara had loaned me, and pulled on the boots that were a constant reminder of Bekkah. Kieran’s baldric slipped over my shoulder, and I cinched the belt. I slipped the sword I had carried with me from home into the loop and clipped Kendra’s signaler to my belt. I drew on the cloak Tristan gave me the day we left Shamgar. There were still holes in it from the attack on Morsal Plains, and I fingered them, remembering that day. I pulled on the gauntlets from Wade and tugged the ties into a knot with my teeth. Before leaving the cave, I dropped to my knees.

  “Any road, Lord,” I said aloud. “Any road You choose. But I won’t go without You.” His presence filled the cave like a wave of heat from an open oven door. Warmth and strength enfolded me, and I rested in that awareness for a precious minute. Then I pushed myself to my feet and walked out of the cave.

  Tristan stood in the clearing, talking with one of the guardians. I could barely make out his features in the dark grey of pre-morning, but felt his energy and strength. He watched me stride forward and the corners of his mouth pulled upward.

  “What?”

  “I was just thinking about the first time I saw you in that alley in Shamgar.” He shook his head. “I didn’t know what to make of you.”

  “But you helped me. You didn’t know if you could trust me, but you gave me protection.”

  “I never told you, but I had begun to wonder if the One even heard us anymore. So much was going wrong . . . the Council, Hazor, Kendra . . .” Tristan cleared his throat. “I’m glad He sent you to us.”

  I nodded. “What are you doing up here?”

  “I came to walk you to the field.” He looked at the emblem on my tunic. “I know you’re officially of Rendor clan now, but you’ll be riding with me. Whatever happens today, stay close.”

  “Mm hmm.” I was watching the bodyguards break camp and gear up, ready to walk to the plateau with us.

  “Susan.” Tristan’s voice changed from big brother to commander. “I mean it. Promise me you’ll stay right behind me.”

  I acknowledged the focused intensity in his eyes. “I will. Besides, I promised Kendra I’d watch out for you.” I grinned.

  “Oh, great. Well, at least you listen to her.”

  I walked over to the boulder and looked down over the village. It was still dark, and fog floated over the space where the homes should have been visible. In a little while, young and old from the Braide Wood clan would gather with the songkeepers and begin to recite the Verses. I drew strength from that knowledge and followed Tristan out of the clearing and along the path.

  The plateau was high enough to be barely touched by morning mist. The dawning sky was grey and overcast. No surprise there. Other than slight fluctuations in temperature, weather was a non-issue on this world. I had missed the surprise of waking up to a wet March wind rattling the windows, or a sullen August heat wave, or a crackling, booming thunderstorm. Today I was glad for that one predictable element: a cool morning, moderate day, heavy grey skies, placid afternoon rain.

  The guardians prepared in muffled silence. Hundreds of men and women spread out across the field, but there was no chatting, laughter, or arguing, as there would be on a morning of training exercises. Tack rattled as it was adjusted. Saddle girths tightened with a creak of leather. Lehkan pawed and stamped and took nervous side steps. Stone scraped metal as a few of the younger guardians sharpened their blades nervously one last time. Occasional quiet orders directed the troops into their formations.

  Tristan had agreed to let me ride Mara, my lehkan doe, into battle. She didn’t have fierce antlers to use as a weapon, but I knew how she moved. I was comfortable with her. After checking her saddle, I paused to rest my face against her soft-haired neck. Then I hoisted myself onto her back and adjusted my sword against my hip. I looked out at the army. Braide Wood’s lehkan cavalry had grown from two dozen to nearly a hundred. About three hundred other guardians would fight on foot. We knew Hazor would rely primarily on foot soldiers and their syncbeams, although if they managed to maneuver some of their own lehkan over the mountains, we would also face a formidable cavalry.

  Tristan made his rounds talking with each captain. He was grim, but took time to stop and exchange a few words with individual guardians as they finished their preparations. He thumped one young guardian on the back and watched another hone the edge of a sword. He nodded his approval and moved on. Every place he walked, faces lightened with something more than the dawning morning glow. He fed them strength and courage.

  In a few minutes, he returned and mounted, nudging his lehkan into position beside mine. We faced the guardians and Tristan nodded to me.

  My heart filled with resolve and gratitude as I studied the army before me. Slowly hands stopped tugging at saddles, weapons were stowed, all movement stilled, and four hundred faces turned toward us, ready.

  “Guardians of all our clans,” I shouted, “you have heard the voice of the One in your Records. You
have felt His presence in the Lyric tower on Feast days. You have seen His promises fulfilled in your history. But He does not only live in the Records, or in the tower, or in the Songs of history. He is here, as well. He is with every one of you.” My voice broke, as I had a flash of seeing with other eyes. For just a moment I saw them the way the One saw them and felt love that was so deep it made me tremble. I took a steadying breath. “We do not fight alone today.”

  Tristan edged his lehkan next to me. Confidence and nobility held his shoulders square. His face was devoid of any levity. His men, his clan, his own family faced the threat of death today. But even with the grim set of his face, he exuded hope and determination. “Awesome in majesty, perfect in power,” he shouted.

  “One to Deliver us, He is our tower!” roared four hundred strong voices. And we moved out.

  One contingent on foot took the shortest route through the forest, down the steep trail toward Morsal Plains. It was the path we had scrambled down the day the farmland was attacked, but it wasn’t a safe or efficient way to move large numbers of people. The bulk of the army, including cavalry, circled to the far side of the plateau and down a longer, more gradual slope toward Morsal Plains.

  The light continued to grow. By the time we arrived in the valley, I could see each broken stubble of grain and the sickly yellow tinge to the fields. Wisps of thin fog drifted in the lowest lying areas, stirred aside by the men who spread out into position. They faced the mountainous cliffs that stood between Hazor and us.

  A runner approached Tristan from the forest. “Hazor is on the move,” he said, gasping. “Two thousand strong.”

  “Good.” Tristan nodded. “Not as many as we feared. Cavalry?”

  “Yes. Not many. A few hundred. They already lost some on the steep trails,” the runner said.

  Tristan rested his hand on his sword hilt. “They’ll lose more soon. And Skyler?”

  “He’s in place with Kieran and Kendra. They’re ready.”

  Tristan’s jaw tightened and he looked over to the forest line, close to the mountain ridges. He would have liked to tell Kendra to stay somewhere safe. But if this defense didn’t hold, there would be no safe place. He pulled his gaze away and straightened in the saddle. His eyes scanned the rough peaks of the mountains above us.

  Hazor would have the high ground, but we didn’t have a choice. We couldn’t wait on the hills of the forest and let them advance that close to Braide Wood. The rough terrain would work against them as they moved down from the mountain toward us. But the approach also gave them cover if their syncbeams worked. They could position themselves behind the high boulders, and pick off our men without ever coming into range of the guardians’ swords. Skyler’s invention had to succeed.

  I stretched my hearing and strained my eyes, watching the gaps for movement. Still nothing. I focused my vision toward the woods. It took a few minutes, but I spotted Skyler and Kieran and Kendra. They were partially hidden by the trees, but right along the edge of the attack line. Kendra watched the mountains, and the two men fidgeted with levers and switches that jutted out of a waist-high cube. I squinted harder to see their machine. Every bit of technology I’d seen so far on this world was seamless, sleek, and designed to meld into its setting unobtrusively. Their creation was a monstrosity. Odd pieces poked out at random angles. Skyler’s head was bent over the machine in concentration, and Kieran was scowling.

  Lord, let it work.

  Then I heard a sound. I edged Mara a few steps without realizing it and leaned forward in the saddle. There it was again. A heavy sound . . . feet on a hard-packed trail. Thousands of feet. I glanced back at the guardians. My heightened Restorer senses weren’t necessary today. Everyone was hyperalert. They heard it too. Hands gripped sword hilts, at the ready. Eyes wavered between the line of the mountain ridge and the captains. We waited.

  Muscles tensed throughout my body, and I had to consciously relax, so Mara wouldn’t mistake the tightening as a signal to move.

  Then I saw them. Picking their way around the rocks, pouring over the top of the mountain ridge. Hazorite soldiers. They had cropped black hair and grey tunics with the jagged emblem of Hazor cutting like a lightning strike across their chests. It was hard to judge size from this distance, but these men bore little resemblance to Nolan’s wiry frame. They were huge, well-muscled, and heavily armed. I hoped that the others couldn’t see as much detail as I could, because the fierce determination on their faces was terrifying.

  My heart pounded, and I forced myself to take a deep breath. Tristan remained completely still. He watched the men pouring down over the mountain like lava, and narrowed his eyes.

  Another deep breath shivered through me.

  Tristan glanced in my direction. His lehkan shifted. “Steady,” he said softly. He wasn’t only quieting his mount.

  I nodded and pulled myself up tall.

  The guardian at my side watched the approaching army. As their first wave came down toward the plains, he drew his sword out slowly and raised it high. I heard the whisper of hundreds of other swords. Still he sat, poised, staring forward. Like the moment of suspended time before a high-diver leaps, he waited.

  “Forward!” Tristan shouted, bringing his sword down.

  Instinct wanted me to kick Mara and spring ahead, but the plan was for the cavalry to hold back to engage its Hazorite counterpart, so I held her in check. The first line of guardians on foot began to run. Tristan held his position, eyes scanning the flanks.

  As expected, the Hazorites didn’t engage directly. The soldiers stopped on the lower slopes of the mountains and pulled out their glistening black half-spheres. They were awkward to hold, and although they began to fire immediately, the glaring beams scorched dirt and grain stubble. The weapons were long-range, but seemed to be difficult to direct and control. They soon refined their aim, and the first row of our men ran forward into the blasts.

  Someone fell, and I stiffened, causing Mara to lurch a few steps forward.

  Then a shrill buzzing sounded over the valley, like crazed bees rattling around inside a tin silo or the manic tapping of an MRI machine. The strange humming shot across the air for miles. I winced against the sound, but the syncbeams stopped firing. The Hazorites glared at their weapons, shook them, adjusted them. Our first wave of guardians used the distraction to advance and engage. They took out several Hazorites before the enemy could set aside their syncbeams to draw their swords.

  As more and more Hazorites flooded down the mountain, our first line pulled back to fight them sword-to-sword on the plain. The valley filled with the sounds of shouting and clashing, along with the humming noise of the suppression field. Our guardians held their own at first, but they were hopelessly outnumbered. Tristan prepared to move the next regiment in from the flank, when the buzzing noise sputtered and stopped.

  Even the soldiers engaged in one-on-one combat glanced into the air, confused. I stared hard into the tree line and stretched my vision. Skyler was shaking the machine, and Kieran was twisting one of the jutting antennae. Kendra watched them, her mouth open in horror. It wasn’t working. The field wasn’t holding. The horrible noise burst out briefly, but stopped again.

  The latest wave of Hazorites coming over the hill quickly engaged their syncbeams. Because of the unpredictable aim, they charred some of their own men as they began firing into the valley. But as the second regiment of our army moved in from the side, Hazor’s weapons had a clear target.

  The air filled with the strange rattling blasts of the syncbeams, and the unearthly sound of men screaming as they were hit.

  God help us.

  Panic rose in my throat.

  Tristan studied the valley before us, resolute. His eyes moved the way they did when shuffling white and black stones around on the table. But there were so few white stones. And ever more black ones pouring in.

  Then I heard a new sound. Familiar
but unexpected. I had been away from home for so many weeks that it took me a moment to recognize it. Thunder. I glanced up at the sky, puzzled. The low rumble stopped, but was followed by a huge crack and a flare of lightning. Tristan’s face turned sheet white. Our lehkan shuddered.

  “It’s all right. It’s just a thunderstorm,” I shouted over another rumble. It was clear by the faces of the cavalry that no one had experienced this before. “It’s the armies of the One.” I raised a triumphant fist. They stared at me wide-eyed, then looked to Tristan.

  Another fork of lightning struck the ground, and a strange metallic smell sifted through the air. I looked ahead to the Hazorite army. Those in the valley continued to fight, but the reinforcements moving down the side of the mountain froze and stared at the sky in terror. Hazorites positioned behind the rocks continued to fire their syncbeams. The next crash of thunder rolled through, and the sky broke open with wave after wave of flickering lightning, unrivaled by any I had seen in my world. All at once, the syncbeams stopped working, some crucial mechanism fried by the electrical storm.

  “Tristan, look!” I shouted.

  Our flanking troops were moving now, and, in the confusion, beating back Hazor to the edge of the prairie.

  But over the top of the ridge, new shapes were appearing. Lehkan. It was the Hazor cavalry. Our foot soldiers couldn’t move forward to attack them while they were still on the precarious slope. Too many Hazorites stood between them and the mountain.

  We watched, helpless, as hundreds of huge lehkans and their riders picked their way down the steep trails, unopposed, and gathered into a line at the bottom of the mountain. Lightning continued to cut across the sky. Random crashes of thunder spooked the Hazor lehkan. Several animals bolted, throwing their riders and scrambling back up the mountain, but the overall wave continued to move forward. Our mounts shied nervously with each new crackle from the sky, and I feared I wouldn’t be able to hold Mara back much longer.

  Tristan raised his sword again. It was our turn.