by Ben Hale
The others on their side, all bearing numbers in white on their torsos and backs, spread out into the shielded start area. The humans held back, most huddling together as if afraid their own side would strike. The trio of krey took places at the edge of the starting shield closest to a SAW.
Through the haze of steam, Reklin could just make out the figures on the opposite end of the valley, especially their bright-red numbers. Reklin caught a glimpse of Blackhorn before the curling mist obscured him from view, his bright-red number 1 emblazoned his exoskeleton.
The Steamwell arena was built into a long, narrow canyon, sealed on both ends. At the center of the arena, a great tower extended into the sky. The walls of the tower depicted a countdown until the start of the War Hunt, and floating vid crystals spread out, taking prime viewing positions throughout the arena.
Both sides were complete, with every person in attendance except for Worg. Reklin’s worry mounted until Worg darted through the Gate, arriving just before it shut.
“Cutting it close,” Alina said.
“Sorry.” He joined Reklin and the others before lowering his tone. “I did some digging. Reklin was right. He was once a Shard on track to become a Bloodwall, until there was an incident and he was discharged from the military. The Crucible bought his contract, and he’s finishing his century here. Just a few months left on his term before his contract expires.”
“You think he’ll be cautious?” Alina asked.
“No.” Teridon drew his hammer and checked the runes. He’d convinced another dakorian to trade two days ago, and the upgraded weapon was more akin to his favored long lance. “He’ll come for us, because the more glint he has, the more options he has when his contract expires.”
“Agreed,” Alina said.
Reklin surveyed their army: thirty-nine dakorians, eight humans, and three krey. They were a motley assortment of soldiers, outcasts, and Crucible fighters. Of the group, he was surprised to recognize two. Dagger and Broken Horn, the first two he’d fought.
“Worg,” Reklin said. “Were those two on the list we looked at six hours ago?”
He noticed Reklin’s gaze and frowned. “No. I would have remembered that.” He activated his holoview and brought up the list of combatants. “It looks like they were changed in the last half hour.”
Dagger’s eyes sliding off Reklin as he turned to their three companions. The others all cast furtive looks in their direction as they muttered to each other, their behavior only confirming Reklin’s suspicions.
“I don’t like them being here,” Teridon said. “It feels a lot like a cage is being closed around us.”
“Maybe,” Alina said, her features grim. “but they don’t know our real identity, remember?”
Reklin considered how to work them into his plan. As the final minutes ticked away on the giant tower at the heart of the arena, Reklin lowered his tone and gave a subtle motion toward Dagger and his companions.
“We have a new goal,” he told the group. “Alina, you and I are going to shadow Dagger and his new friends. We’re going to make sure they replace us in the bottom rankings. Worg and Teridon, grab Blinkers and go for the tower. Teridon can use his long lance from there, and Worg can watch Teridon’s back.”
Worg looked to the timer, the giant numbers on the center of the tower. Thirty seconds to go. “Remember,” he said. “The War Hunt ends when the bottom four are killed, or if the tower is controlled by either army for three minutes.”
Reklin caught Teridon’s gaze. “Don’t be accurate. Be lucky.”
Teridon rolled his eyes. “I hate to miss.”
Worg and Teridon darted to the shield keeping the army close to the entrance Gates, while Reklin and Alina hurried to join Dagger and his friends. Dagger’s expression turned confused when Reklin stepped into their midst, and Reklin spared a small smile.
“Mind if we join you?” he asked Dagger.
“Strength in numbers,” Dagger’s friend rumbled.
The dakorian was shorter than normal, so Reklin decided to call him Stumpy. The remaining two, both muscled and hulking, were obviously Stupid and Storgid, so named because their features resembled the behind of a storgid, a common nuisance from Reklin’s clan world.
The vid crystals buzzed through the air like insects, with several hovering around Reklin and Alina, while another set floated above and behind Worg and Teridon. As the current targets of the Hunt, they would be under the most scrutiny.
“You sure about this?” Alina murmured.
“Yes,” Reklin said.
He glanced to Stupid, who had the number 45 on his chest. He was the lowest of the group, with Dagger and Broken Horn in the thirties. Not too far to fall, given the right circumstances. The challenge would be to make it look accidental.
Reklin drew in a breath of the heated air and fixed his gaze on the SAW, which was positioned around a lake and up a hill. Its Drum lance was pointed at the opposite end of the battlefield. The feeling of anticipation, of calm soberness, washed over him, as familiar as the hilt of his blade on his back. Foes stood at his side and across the field, but they would not be triumphant. He desired the rank of Bloodwall—not because he needed the rank, but because he had already attained that caliber.
The timer ticked to zero, and the shield wall extinguished in a curtain of sparks. Dagger snarled and surged into a sprint, his four companions charging around the pond. Reklin didn’t avoid the lake; he raced to it, skidding to a halt at the edge and turning to put his hands together.
Alina closed the gap in a rush and put her foot in his hands. With a heave, Reklin launched her into a flip that carried her over the pond and to the base of the hill. She landed several paces ahead of Dagger and Stupid, who looked on in dismay while Alina raced up the slope to reach the war machine first. She jumped over the circular gravity repulsor and darted into the opening to claim the pilot’s chair.
With several vid crystals watching him, Reklin managed to keep his smile contained as he raced around the pond and up the slope. Unwilling to let Reklin control the entire SAW, Broken Horn jumped into the center of the machine and climbed into the turret, where he grasped the controls to the Drum lance. Dagger, Stupid, Storgid, and Stumpy all jumped onto the outer rim of the disc base.
Alina activated the SAW, and it came off the ground, the wash of gravity groaning as it lifted the war mech. Dust billowed out from under the circular base, spinning plumes across the steaming pond.
Already, beams of light from Drum lances filled the air, swirling the steam in their passage before exploding on rock. A group of reds had gone for the caves on the right, taking cover in the passages and forcing white to divide. Some of the white-controlled Blinkers turned in that direction, and Reklin caught a glimpse of a 48 red through a cave. A human, already with a trio of krey and a dakorian in pursuit.
“Go for the tower,” Reklin ordered.
“You should be hiding,” Dagger hissed from behind Reklin. “You’re too exposed.”
“Are you going to pretend you’re trying to keep me alive?” Reklin murmured.
A Blinker raced up a nearby slope on a collision path for Reklin. Soaring over a jump, the mech and rider disappeared in a burst of purple light. They reappeared on the other side of the SAW and streaked across a boiling pond, kicking up superheated spray before blinking again, appearing beyond the next hill.
“Half the bounty on your head is going to be mine,” Dagger growled, too low for the nearest vid crystal to catch.
Reklin spotted Blackhorn. The towering dakorian had taken a Blinker right up the wall of the valley, using it to teleport and reach a high trail that skirted the top of the cliff. He stepped off the Blinker and landed on a ledge, dropping into a crouch as he aimed onto the battlefield and turned his lance in Reklin’s direction.
“Not this time,” Reklin said.
He turned and drew his broken blade, shifting his weight as if by accident. In the same instant, Blackhorn fired his long lance, the beam of ligh
t crossing the battlefield and passing under the Drum lance of the SAW. The streak of light grazed Reklin’s shoulder and struck Dagger in the upper arm.
Dagger’s snarling retort ended in a shout of pain, and he tumbled off the back of the SAW. He struck the ground and rolled, the number on his body flipping through several numerals, and settling on 44, two short of gaining a bounty. Reklin smiled and took cover behind the SAW, where he subtly tapped his holoview to activate the audio link embedded in his jawline.
“Status.” Reklin’s voice would be a whisper in a quiet room, but behind the drone of the mech, not even the vid crystals would hear him.
“That was a nice miss,” Worg said through the audio implant. “But it looks like the oddsmakers think that was an accident. You’re still on the list.”
Reklin looked to his chest to confirm that the number had not changed. The bright 50 was still staring back at him. He caught the hatch to the machine and ducked inside, shutting it on the vid crystal that tried to follow.
“Out,” he barked to Broken Horn.
The dakorian fired the Drum lance, and the sound reverberated in the confines of the SAW. He sneered down at Reklin. “You think I’m afraid of—”
Reklin caught his ankle and yanked him from the seat. Broken Horn tumbled from the turret and bounced on the floor. He scrambled to his feet as Reklin opened the door. Broken Horn whirled, raising his hammer, but Reklin stepped into his reach and caught his remaining horn, throwing him out the open door. The dakorian’s body collided with a vid crystal as he fell off the disc base and went tumbling down a hill.
“I thought you wanted to keep them with us,” Alina said.
“I changed my mind,” Reklin said. “Take the lance.”
She slipped from the pilot’s seat, and he took her place. His hands wrapped around the controls, a pilot’s sphere and a curved panel of cortex controls, mostly used to direct the flow of power from the small gravity sphere to the repulsors and the Drum.
A wide window allowed him to see the battlefield, which had devolved into chaos. Blinkers appeared and disappeared, and beams of light streaked in every direction. Blackhorn jumped onto his Blinker and accelerated down the slope, swinging his hammer to catch another Blinker just as it appeared.
The hammer crashed into the back of the piloting krey and crushed him on the board. Both went tumbling into a boiling pond, the Blinker skidding away as the body sank. Blackhorn landed on the top of a red-controlled SAW and grabbed a horn of the dakorian inside. With a heave, he bodily tossing him out. Then he claimed the turret chair. Now in control of a Drum lance, Blackhorn swiveled the turret toward Alina and Reklin, its thick rod burning white.
“Hang on!” Reklin called and spun the sphere, causing them to bank away from the beam of light.
Chapter Thirty-One
Reklin’s spin sent them rotating across a small lake, kicking up steam around the SAW. Blackhorn fired, and the lance boomed past Alina and struck the base of a hill. Dirt and rocks rattled off the SAW. Reklin dropped them into a shallow between two hills. It kept them under cover from Blackhorn but put them directly against a small force of reds, all of which aimed their weapons at their SAW.
Ion bolts splashed across the SAW’s armor, scoring black burns in the seracrete plating. Fortunately, the fire forced Stupid and Storgid to jump, but Reklin had lost sight of Stumpy.
Alina fired the main drum lance, but her shot struck the ground rather than an enemy SAW. Rock exploded, knocking a Blinker spinning away and sending the enemy SAW down a slope. Apparently the oddsmakers liked the blow, because Alina’s ranking climbed several digits.
A Blinker appeared above them, and a dakorian dropped from the board, bringing his hammer down on Reklin’s SAW. His roar was cut short when a lance struck him in the leg and threw him off course. He struck the edge of the disc and tumbled under the front edge, where he was crushed by the gravity repulsors.
The strike had come from halfway up the tower. Reklin leaned forward and looked upward to catch a glimpse of Teridon and Worg on a stubby balcony of the tower. Teridon and Worg ducked into the opening, avoiding retaliating fire, but not before Reklin noticed both had their numbers changed, and neither were at risk.
“What’s happening with the rankings?” Reklin called as he swiveled their SAW through a saddle between hills and over a pond.
Blackhorn gave chase, his SAW bursting out of the nearby caves, the Drum lance rotating in their direction. He plowed through pair of trees, scattering leaves and toppling one tree into a steaming pond.
Alina’s voice came from within the SAW and the jawbone crystal. “A human dropped to 48 and was killed. Another dakorian took Worg’s place, and Blackhorn eliminated him. It’s just you now.” She fired again, but misjudged the aim, missing entirely instead of grazing Blackhorn’s war mech. Her numbers dropped back to 47, and she cursed. “Make that both of us.”
They were the last targets in their army, and both were in the same SAW. Drum lances and hammer lances pummeled their mech, coming from all directions. The armor plating burned hot before buckling. One ion bolt burned through a hole and screeched over Reklin’s shoulder, scoring the floor.
Reklin scowled and turned them away from the tower, toward the side of the valley, where empty caves beckoned an opening. It required him to pass over a shallow ravine with boiling water flowing through a slim gap.
Abruptly a snap came from their mech, the subsequent explosion damaging their gravity drive and causing them to lurch. The ship slowed and began to sink. Reklin heard a muffled laugh as Stumpy jumped from the SAW, and he noticed sparks coming from a conduit near the back.
Reklin gripped the guiding sphere with all his strength, keeping them going straight. “Alina, get out and get off the list.”
She dropped from the Drum lance and darted to the door. The SAW shuddered as it was hit by another Drum lance, the beam of light blasting through the seracrete plating and destroying the nest where Alina had just been sitting.
Reklin spun the SAW, turning it so Alina could leap out the door without being spotted by the bulk of their pursuers. She dropped out the door and into a rocky crevasse, reaching out to catch herself on both sides before she fell into the deadly water. Reklin passed over and swerved, spinning the SAW up a hill and into the open.
The move kept Alina out of sight, but it put him between Blackhorn’s SAW, other war machines, and a dozen blinkers. All fired, the lances blasting into his SAW and ripping through plating. The Drum lance took a direct hit. The moorings destroyed, it snapped apart and tumbled away, lodging in a spot of muck next to a pond. Sparks and power spit from the shattered conduits, and Reklin guided his ruined mech down a slope, to where a small cliff dropped into a cave entrance.
With its repulsors damaged, the SAW hit the edge and tipped onto its side. Reklin leapt from the controls and to the open doorway, where he caught the edge and jumped. The SAW teetered on its edge, but its momentum and the gravity repulsors sent it skidding sideways, its curving disc scraping across the ground. As more lances struck its underside, Reklin dropped into the cave mouth and sprinted up the dim corridor. He noted a vid crystal following in his wake. Above, a small boulder finally caught the side of the disc base and flipped, the repulsors slamming the war mech into the ground with bone-crushing force. The impact sent a shudder through the walls of Reklin’s corridor.
Reklin passed an opening and caught a glimpse of the battlefield. Another SAW rushed across the ground and used the upside-down SAW’s still-firing repulsor to boost their own, soaring high in the air to land inside the mouth of a large cave. Blackhorn jumped from the SAW and dropped into the caves, using a sloped tunnel to intersect with Reklin’s passage.
“I killed a red.” Alina’s voice came through cortex in his jawbone. “It’s just you, Reklin.”
“Time’s almost up.” Worg’s voice was distorted as he fired. “You don’t have to survive long.”
Embedded crystals in the walls made it clear Reklin wa
s being watched, and he drew his blade, a weapon made advantageous in the confines of the tunnel. The number on his chest reflected on the walls, a constant reminder that he was still the sole remaining bounty in the War Hunt.
The tunnels dropped and twisted, a labyrinthine network of intersections, boiling waterfalls, and deadly streams. More footfalls came from behind, the sound echoing in the tunnel, and Reklin realized he was being cornered.
Blackhorn appeared inside the tunnel and fired his hammer lance, the ion bolt slicing across Reklin’s shoulder as he dived into a side tunnel. Reklin hit the ground and rolled to his feet, mentally tracking Blackhorn’s movements.
Standard Shard tactics. Flank an enemy and drive them into a corner. Reklin could have been fighting himself, only Blackhorn was younger, faster, and more familiar with the terrain.
Reklin veered away from the obvious tunnel and raced up a slope that took him into the open. He skirted a ledge before a barrage of ion bolts drove him back into the tunnels.
Stone exploded across the ledge, but not before Reklin spotted the armies. Most of white was at the tower, the timer at the summit indicating only a minute remained until the contest would end. Abandoning their effort to break through the number of dakorians at the tower entrance, the remainder of the red army had joined the hunt for Reklin. Then Reklin spotted Alina onboard a stolen Blinker. She flew behind the battlefield, circling toward the end of the caves, where Reklin would be forced to appear.
Abruptly Dagger appeared from a dark recess and slammed into Reklin’s side, knocking them both into a tiny side cave. In the dark hole, they hit the back wall—and passed through it. Their bodies disrupted the holo as they fell, and both tumbled down a slope into a lower cavern. Reklin rolled to his feet, using the momentum to toss Dagger to the side, but the dakorian managed a clean landing as well.
