by CM Raymond
“I’d rather die by your side,” he replied. “And anyway, they don’t listen to me. I need you.”
Parker ran with Krystal hobbling along next to him as Glenda backed away firing into the woods. She was slowing the Arcadian approach, but also painting a clear path to where they were hiding. After a hundred yards, they caught up with the rest of the crew at a clearing.
“This is it,” Parker groaned as he handed Krystal off to two other women. “We live or die right there!” he yelled, pointing to a small stand of trees surrounding a pile of rocks in the middle of the enormous clearing.
Parker and his ladies ran for the one bit of cover around, dodging old, dry, dead wood on their way. As they all cowered behind the boulders, Parker took inventory. Eight of them remained, which wasn’t so bad since they had taken out dozens of the enemy. He nodded at six of the women. “Just keep firing. We need to let them know we mean business.”
Nodding, the ladies set up stations around the rocks and blasted the Arcadian troops as they emerged on the strip where the clearing met the woods.
Parker turned to Krystal. “You better be OK because I can’t haul your ass out of here.”
The woman smiled through a wince. “Shut the hell up; I’m working on my weight.”
Parker laughed and hugged her as his eyes grew glassy. “You’ve done great.”
“Don’t be such a little bitch,” Krystal said. “I’m not giving up this easily.”
Glenda was by their side. “Parker, go. I’ve got this.”
He nodded and turned toward his gunners who were firing across the open field at the troops that gathered in the distance.
“Cease fire,” he groaned.
They all looked at him in disbelief.
“Why the hell would we?” one of them asked. “We can’t make it beyond this field,” she nodded behind them, “You’ve led us into a dead end. We might as well take as many down as we can.”
Parker smiled. “Do you trust me?”
“More than I should,” she responded.
“Good, then let them advance.”
They held their fire, and as they did, the enemy emerged, slowly walking across the field. Parker could see them stepping over the dry, dead wood along the way.
“Come on,” he muttered under his breath while keeping his eyes trained on the enemy.
When the soldiers were halfway between them and the woods, Parker aimed the spear Gregory made him toward the sky, squeezed the trigger three times, and held his breath.
What felt like an eternity passed before he got the response he was hoping for.
Volley after volley of fireballs flew through the air over their heads, landing in the field all around the enemy. The fireballs hit the ground, and bursts of flames danced in every direction. The dry, fallen wood exploded into fire, spreading quickly around the troops.
“Thank the Matriarch,” one of the women said.
“Well,” Parker responded, “you can really start by thanking Amelia and her magicians.”
The fireballs continued to rain down on the troops. Parker looked over the rocks to see them dancing in pain, half of them trying to extinguish their flaming cloaks. “But let’s not let the magicians have all the fun. Have at it!”
The women spun out from their hiding place and began plowing down the troops who were now close enough to drop.
****
Amelia watched from on top of a hill as Parker and his team struggled across the field. Krystal, limping along between him and another woman, looked like she had taken a beating. Knowing Parker was still alive gave Amelia a burst of energy, but then she saw the contingent of Arcadian soldiers following after them.
When the guards reached the middle of the field, Parker sent up the signal.
“Now!” Amelia yelled. Her small band of magicians, noble and unlawful alike, sprang into action. They threw fireball after fireball into the field—everything they had—and watched as the dry brush exploded.
Screams of anguish from the Arcadian soldiers reached her ears.
“Not half bad,” Roland said, leaning on his crutch by her side.
While the magical attack was taking its toll on the other young magicians, he was still fresh. The man had more power than she had imagined.
Looking back down the hill, behind Parker and the others, she cursed. “Half bad isn’t good enough,” she grunted.
Roland spun on his good leg and watched as dozens of men emerged from their fire, many of them dropping to the ground, rolling out their flames. Still, more had skirted the inferno and were rounding the edges ready for attack. A handful of Arcadian magic users were in the group, and they were putting out the fire around them.
“Scheisse, so damn many of them,” he said.
“You sound like the rearick.” Amelia’s eyes were on the enemy, who were pulling themselves together.
“Yeah, thought I’d try that one on.”
Amelia grinned and shook her head. “Doesn’t work for you.”
“Double scheisse.”
“No, really it—”
Before she could finish, she felt Roland grab her arm. She looked up at him and then followed his eyes off to the left. Another troop, this one larger than the last, were breaking out of the woods on the east side of the tower. She grabbed Ida, the mystic who was assigned to her troop.
“Make sure Hannah knows about the attack. Let her know that I’m going to stay here and help clean up this mess before coming to join them.”
“You got it,” the woman said before her eyes turned white.
Amelia turned back toward Parker and his pinned down troops. Roland looked at her, then yelled, “Let’s see how good of a teacher you really are.”
Roland’s eyes turned black as he extended his hands in front of him, forming a ball of fire bigger than the others. Dropping his crutches, he balanced on his one leg, pivoted to his left, and launched the massive ball of fire into the air. But it didn’t go toward the troops. Instead, it flew straight up, over their heads.
Sweat dripping from his brow, Roland reached out his hand as if gripping an invisible object and held the ball in place. It spun thirty feet over the Arcadians’ heads.
“Now,” he screamed.
Amelia took the cue. With a twist of her wrist, a small glow of magical power formed in her right hand. She snapped her arm and launched the globe toward his flaming ball. It hit dead center, and Roland’s fireball burst into a million pieces, raining fire down onto Adrien’s men.
Screams filled the air, and they ran, hopelessly looking for cover in the open field. She could hear Parker’s women cheering as they continued to pick them off.
“Scheisse,” Amelia sighed, glancing over at Roland, still balancing on his one leg.
“Damn straight.”
Amelia nodded at the troops approaching from the east. “What about them?”
“Looks like they’ll have their hands full.” Roland grinned as he watched the three rearick, axes held high, raced toward the enemy. A crowd of warriors, proudly wearing their shackles from the factory, sprinted just behind them. The two forces collided, sending the sounds of clashing steel and the screams of death into the air.
****
Chaos surrounded Hannah, as her forces engaged with Adrien’s, but all of her focus was on the mustache in front of her. His eyes were wild with fear and rage, and he fired wildly in her direction.
She ran fast, dodging his attacks. As she got closer, she threw another fireball in his direction—this one smaller and more focused. It hit his rifle, and he dropped it as the metal began to melt on his skin.
Holding his sword in two hands, he glared down at her. “That was a mistake, girl. A blast from my rifle would have been quicker.”
She smiled and put her hands together, then slowly pulled them apart, forming a blade of ice as long as his broadsword.
“Well, then it’s a shame for you that I don’t use magitech. I only play with the real thing. Now, let’s see if I
can’t keep my promise to you.”
Captain Dickerson charged, swinging his sword two-handed in a vicious arc. But Hannah was ready for him. She remembered her training with Karl, and let the man’s size and anger work to her advantage. She ducked the swing and brought her magic up in front of her. The thin blade of ice sliced through the gap in his armor right under his armpit.
He screamed once in pain, then stumbled backward. She walked forward, raising her ice blade to finish him off. As she was about to impale the captain, hooves thundered in her direction. She turned as a noble on horseback crashed into her.
She spun and hit the ground hard—her magic blade shattering. She closed her eyes for a second, pushing every thought away. She was exhausted; the work she had done with Laurel had taken a toll. But there was still plenty of fight left, and she would need every bit of it.
Drawing the knife given to her by Karl months ago—not a hundred yards from this spot—she rose to her feet. But the Captain was gone. She cursed out loud then ran into the fray.
Bodies were everywhere. She leaped over several familiar faces, now dead and gone to the Beyond, if such a place actually existed. The first living creature she encountered was a man dressed in Guard’s armor, standing over one of Karl’s men. As she got closer, she saw that her man on the ground was just a kid from the Boulevard. He had been friends with her brother, Will.
“Time to die, scumbag,” the guard said, as he drew back a spear.
The kid raised his arms, a futile attempt to defend himself. Before the man could strike, Hannah’s knife ripped across his neck, tearing through flesh and the man’s jugular. Gripping his throat, the man dropped to his knees.
Hannah stared him down. “Yes, scumbag, it is time to die.” She kicked him in the chest and knocked him off her brother’s friend.
“Th… th… thanks,” the kid muttered.
“No time for that. Get up.” She shot her hand down in his direction and pulled him to his feet.
Cutting her eyes to where the trees and grass met, she considered telling him to run and hide. But the forces were too great, and they would need him.
“Stay close.” She picked up the Arcadian’s spear and handed it to him. “Use this instead of that dagger. It will keep them at a distance.”
He eyed the rod as if he’d never seen one.
“And look for men that are already engaged in battle. Strike hard, fast, and dirty.”
“Got it,” he croaked as they turned for the fight.
Two men, the size of ogres, broke off from the fight and advanced on them. They had the swagger of Hunters, and their eyes turned black as she readied herself for a real fight.
“It’s her,” one shouted as both of his fists burst into blue flames.
The other raised both of his hands, and a purple light began to form.
“Down,” she screamed, pushing the kid into the dirt. She raised her hands and created a shield. The blast of magic careened off her outstretched palms and into the distance. She separated her hands, flipped them palm upwards and pulled them in toward herself. A fallen log rolled toward her, taking out the two Hunters at the feet. They both fell over backward.
As they stumbled to their feet, Hannah looked down at the body of a fallen archer. She grabbed two arrows out of his quiver and with a twist of her wrist and a flick of her fingers, the shafts launched at the men. One arrow caught the fire caster in the eye. The other Hunter dodged it, and with a wave Hannah pulled it back toward her again, impaling the man in the back.
“OK, that was badass,” the kid at her side said. “Wish I’d gone to the Academy!”
Hannah nodded, and then looked past him toward the melee. “Been there, kid. They never teach anything so useful.” She pulled him to his feet again. “Let’s go. Follow my lead and keep that spear moving.”
He nodded, and they sped into the crowd.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Karl stood shoulder to shoulder with Garrett, a pile of corpses surrounding them.
Blood was plastered across the rearicks’ faces, and none of it was from the Heights. Their eyes narrowed as a group of Arcadian fighters edged in on them.
“Wanted to have a little contest, old man? Count yer kills?”
Karl scoffed. “Only an insecure twat needs to tell his friends the size of his cock.”
Taking his eyes off the enemy for an instant, Garrett cocked his head in confusion. Laughing, Karl said, “Don’t count em, just kill em.” They both raised their axes. “Now!”
They rushed, swinging their battle axes as they went, leaving two of the fighters headless. Following through, Karl spun, landing the ax on the leg of another. The man screamed in agony as he stared down at his half-severed limb. Pulling a six-inch blade from his boot, Karl ended his misery, driving the knife into his skull from under his wooly chin. Without pausing to consider the kill, he dropped two more before he heard footsteps approaching from behind.
A crude hammer swung toward his head, but Karl grabbed the shaft in mid-flight. He recognized the weapon instantly—it was one of his men’s. Amelia and some of the other nobles were able to turn wood and stone into metal, so Mortimer showed them how to piece together simple weapons for his men. Sharpened sticks were turned into steel spears, and stones tied to branches were turned into iron hammers. They weren’t pretty, but they were better than nothing.
Karl pulled the weapon out of his attacker’s hands and raised his ax to strike. The fool that attacked him raised his hands in defense, and Karl noticed the metal shackles adorning the man’s wrists.
“The hell, Alex,” he shouted at his soldier, whose eyes were wide.
“Sorry, thought you were one of them… only a short one.”
“Yeah, screw you, too. Watch where you swing that thing,” Karl snorted as he shoved the hammer back into the boy’s hands.
“She told me to swing at anyone who—”
“She?”
The figure next to Alex spun left and right, using a combination of magic and weapons to mow down the enemy. Turning, Hannah saw her friend and smiled. “Good work down here, shorty.”
“Aye, lass,” he grinned, “Yer lucky I’m saving all my kickass for these pricks.”
Flipping the butt end of his ax toward the sky, he caught a man under the chin, before finishing him off with the business end of his weapon. He looked over at her as she threw the knife he had given her—it tore through a guard’s soft belly.
“Hey, careful with that thing,” Karl shouted, pounding an attacker with his left fist. “Paid fifty coin for it, and was my favorite before I gave it to some defenseless little girl.”
Hannah held her empty palm out and smiled as her eyes flashed red. The knife pulled out of the Arcadian’s gut and flew back to her in time for her to take another. “Eh, this old thing? I can’t seem to get rid of it.” Winking at him, she turned back to fight.
The battle continued, and although they were outnumbered and clearly the less trained hands—they had passion and home field advantage on their side. The rebels started to push Adrien’s army down the hill and toward the stand of trees. Soon, the enemy began to peel off and run for safety. As they did, Amelia’s magicians lobbed balls of fire after them, hoping to finish a few off and ensure that they weren’t planning on re-engaging.
With their makeshift weapons raised high, the men from the factory and a group of rebel nobles shouted in victory.
Karl slammed his hand on Hannah’s back, nearly knocking her over. “I’ll be damned, lass. I wouldn’t have bet on this group of asshats, but I think we beat ‘em.”
Hannah nodded. “We won the first fight.”
“And crippled ‘em,” Garrett added, “worse than old Mortimer over there.”
They followed his line of sight and found Mortimer, leaning on his ax, its blade chipped and covered with blood.
The cheering continued, shouts of victory echoed off the tower walls and back down the hill—until all at once they stopped.
W
hen Hannah heard the hum, she knew exactly what it was. She had heard that sound in her dreams every night since the Battle of the Boulevard.
“Adrien!” she screamed as her eyes searched the skies.
****
Ezekiel’s face was resigned as he watched the airship come in quickly. Adrien’s attack with his magical death machine wasn’t out of the realm of possibility, in fact, he expected it sooner than now. Perhaps it was only to show that he cared little for the lives of the Arcadian soldiers, or, more likely, that the power stored up in the tons of amphoralds fueling the ship was more precious than Arcadian lives.
But Hannah and the others had beat back Adrien’s troops, which forced him to play the trump card. Ezekiel prayed that his own ace up the sleeve would work.
Planting his staff firmly on the roof of the tower, he concentrated. His eyes burned red, and he reached out to Julianne. He’s here. Send the order, and tell everyone to spread out in the woods. We need to save as many of them as we can.
Done. She responded. Get out of there, Ezekiel.
He grinned to himself and replied, On my way now. I will see you soon.
The mystic was a beautiful woman, one that he could have fallen for as a younger man. Ezekiel cared about her and respected her, which was why he felt a little badly for lying to her.
He watched the ship move into place, and he could see the power pulsing through its magitech cannon. In seconds, it would unleash hell upon his people. Ezekiel took a deep breath. Although he had saved his power for this moment, he knew the spell wouldn’t last long.
Stretching his arms up toward the battlefield, his eyes turned red, and his arms trembled. A giant shield formed, stretching out in front of him just as the airship opened fire on his friends.
The cannon blast crashed into the magician’s defenses. He gritted his teeth as blue streams of power exploded against the translucent, purple dome.
It’s up to you now, Gregory, he thought for a moment before returning his focus to the magical power pouring out of him. He aimed to give them as much time as he could.
****
Gregory leaned over his machine and ran through its parts over and over again. He kept telling himself that if the ship came in, it would work. It would have to work.
