by Keri Arthur
Without comment, he took off his pack and shuffled back until his spine rested against the tree trunk. Then he closed his eyes and sucked in air, his whole body shuddering. He remained on his knees though—trying to keep additional pressure off the fist-sized hole in his butt, no doubt. Given the toll moving two of us took on him, it was a wonder he was even conscious. I certainly wouldn’t have been.
I pressed my hand against the earth and imagined a heavy earth and stone cave rising up and around the tree, with a small open entrance that faced the pathway. If the Skaran did attack, then at least we had a defensible area.
The earth pulsed and warmed under my fingertips, and a tremor ran through the ground as it rose to fulfill my vision. By the time the cave was finished, my head was again aching, but at least this time unconsciousness wasn’t a threat.
I took off my pack, crawled in beside Donal, and then grabbed the pulse rifle and made sure it was ready. Once I checked and reloaded my blasters, I leaned back against the tree trunk, listening to the silence and the soft heartbeat of the earth.
Nothing approached. Not for at least an hour. Then, gradually, came the soft tremor of steps—light steps, which suggested a scouting team rather than a Skaran hunting party, as the latter walked heavier on the earth.
The steps paused about twenty feet away from our cave and then a voice said, “Caracal One? You there?”
“Yes.”
I shifted slightly and peered out. I didn’t recognize the woman who spoke, meaning it was Donal’s team who’d come to our rescue rather than mine. She lowered her gun and grinned. “Welcome back. The higher-ups were getting a bit worried about you both.”
“It’s a worry we shared, let me tell you.” I glanced back at Donal and saw that he was awake. “You able to move out, highlander?”
“If you’ll give me a hand—I think the legs have gone to sleep sitting like this.”
I grabbed his hand and steadied him as he rose and limped out of our cave. His eyes were little more than narrow slits of blue, but he didn’t say anything about the pain I could practically smell.
“Margreet,” he said. “Anything of interest happen while we were away?”
“Nary a thing.” Her gaze swept him critically. “How bad is the injury?”
“I’ll be all right.”
“No doubt, but I’m more interested in the speed with which you can move, as I’d really like to get back to the garrison before midday.”
“You set the pace, I’ll keep up.”
“Determination. I like it—even if it is a lie.” Her gaze met mine. “And you?”
“In full working order.”
“Good. Between us all, then, we should be able to get the boss back to the garrison in quick order.” She clicked her fingers and two men walked around her and approached Donal. “You will need help if I’m any judge, so don’t argue and just accept it.”
I couldn’t help grinning at her no-nonsense attitude. I liked this woman.
Donal didn’t argue—not only was he ultimately a sensible man but he also wanted to get back to the garrison ASAP to report our findings. He placed his arms on the two men’s shoulders as they locked theirs around his waist. With little fuss, they chair-lifted him and we were on our way.
We moved out quickly. While I did my turn of carrying Donal, I certainly didn’t have the strength to last anywhere near as long as even Margreet.
It took us just under an hour to reach the garrison, and we’d barely cleared the tunnel when Captain Marx approached. His gaze scanned us both and then he said, “You up to delivering a full report?”
“I am. The highlander needs medical care.”
“No—”
“Donal, we need you at full strength if the bipeds hit, so shut up and just go to the medical center.”
He raised his eyebrows, a small smile touching his lips. But all he said was, “Yes, ma’am.”
As he was hauled away, I returned my gaze to the captain. “You might want to call in the commander and the Red Queen. They’ll both need to hear what we found.”
“They already await. Follow me.”
He spun around and walked to the nearby set of stairs, bounding up them with far more energy than I could dredge up.
Two guards stood either side of a heavy metal door at the level underneath the rampart; they keyed the door open for the captain to go through, and then held it until I arrived. The hall beyond was gloomy and unlit and ended in a T-intersection. The sign on the external wall said communications was to the left, briefing and command to the right. We went right.
After we were keyed through another metal doorway, we stepped into a long, windowless room that was ten feet wide and at least triple that in length. The commander and Marttia were already seated at the table that dominated the room; the captain moved around to sit beside them, but I was motioned to sit opposite—a position that instantly made it feel a little like I was on trial.
“So.” The commander leaned forward and interlaced his fingers. “What happened? Why were you out of contact for so long?”
I took a deep breath and then detailed everything we’d seen and everything that had happened. By the time I’d finished, their expressions were a mix of disbelief and horror.
“They have the ability to melt rock?” Marttia said. “Just how powerful is this substance?”
“We didn’t hang around long enough to find out,” I said. “But the globules were about fist-sized and turned stone into fluid. How far the melting went, I couldn’t say.”
The commander frowned. “They would need plenty of such a substance to weaken the garrison walls—they’re twenty feet thick.”
“They wouldn’t have to hit the whole wall,” Marx commented. “All they’d need to do is create an access point into the garrison.”
“At which point they would be met by a barrage of metal.”
“Which may eventually stop the bipeds, but it won’t stop the yellow-green tendril orbs that eat into your flesh,” I said. “Donal’s damn lucky to be alive.”
“How did you stop the orb?” Marttia asked curiously. “There was nothing in the medikit that would have been of much use against that sort of magic.”
I drew my knife. Just for a moment, golden light sparked along the runes, sending sun-like beams of brightness spinning through the gloom. “I’m an earth mage, remember, and the King’s Sword isn’t the only magical item remaining in Divona. The magic in this knife was able to counter the other, and undoubtedly saved Donal’s life.”
A smile teased Marttia’s lips, though her eyes were cold. “I admit not noticing the blade when you drew it on me, and I’m rather surprised such a weapon was gifted to you considering the circumstances.”
I swallowed the bitterness that rose at her comment and said, as evenly as I was able, “That’s because the king doesn’t know it exists—in fact, it would have been destroyed if he had, simply because it belonged to my mother. The knife has been handed down to the firstborn female in her family for generations.”
“Which is all very informative,” the commander said, “but I can’t really see how it relates to our situation here. One knife will not make a difference if these bipeds attack us.”
“True,” Marttia said. “But I think you miss the point, Commander. That knife countered a magic we’ve never seen before—there’s nothing in either our written or oral history that even vaguely resembles the magic described. And that means her mother’s people must have encountered these bipeds before—why else would that knife be able to destroy their magic?”
The commander’s gaze snapped back to me. “Where did your mother hail from?”
“Initially from the Isle of Whyte, but they have long since lived in Gigurri.”
The commander frowned. “Wasn’t the Isle of Whyte laid to waste by a volcanic explosion?”
“So Cannamore history claims.”
Marttia raised an eyebrow. “Your mother told you different?”
“She used
to tell me stories about her people when I was much younger, so my recollection might be vague.” I hesitated. “While I believe the volcano was the reason the island was laid to waste, it wasn’t a natural occurrence.”
“So they destroyed their own island?” she asked. “Why?”
I shrugged. “She never said. Maybe she never knew.”
Marttia frowned. “Was your mother an earth mage?”
“The ability ran in her bloodline, and I now believe she could hear the earth’s voice. Whether she could also command it, I can’t say. Certainly I never saw her do it.” I hesitated again. “There might be some mention about either the bipeds or their magic in the old texts held in Gigurri’s history museums. Whether we have the time to request them, let alone go through them, is another matter entirely.”
“I’ll nevertheless contact Lady Helena and request she do an urgent search.”
Lady Helena happened to be my aunt. She’d been a frequent visitor to Divona when my mother had been alive, but totally absent in the years since her death. I couldn’t help but wonder now if that absence had been deliberate, or a result of the king’s rampage in the aftermath my mother’s death.
“I’ll also contact the caretaker of the Antiquities Library in Divona and see what records they hold—”
“I wouldn’t bother,” I cut in. “There’s little in the old archives that mentions either the earth power or the reason why earth mages fled their island home and became refugees in our land.”
She raised an eyebrow. “And how would you know this?”
“Because over the years, I’ve had plenty of time to read and research.” Not just about the earth power and her origins, but also the laws and treaty documents. When I did eventually claim the throne, I wasn’t about to rely on the word of others. “When you speak to Lady Helena, also request the help of their mages.”
Marttia raised an eyebrow. “I was under the impression the Gigurrian mages were little more than pale imitations of their former greatness.”
“I bet the king told you that.” When she nodded, I added bluntly, “Gigurri remains the last true mage stronghold, though their numbers are indeed dwindling. But the earth still hears and obeys them, and they will, at the very least, be able to bolster and repair foundations.”
And with them protecting the city, I could concentrate on destroying the biped mages. Or, at the very least, destroying their staffs and ending their access and abuse of the earth.
“Even if they agree to help, it will take time for them to get here—time these bipeds may not give us,” the commander said. “We need a plan of attack if they do decide to hit.”
“Well, the most obvious way to counteract acid-like globules would be to make use of the old water channels that run across the top of the wall,” Marx said. “Releasing fresh water at the first sign of an attack should render them harmless.”
“These globules are based in magic, Captain,” Marttia said, “so that rule may not apply.”
He glanced at her. “It’s still worth a shot given we’ve little else to run with right now.”
“Agreed—make immediate arrangements, Captain.”
“Is there anything else you can tell us about these bipeds?” the commander said. “Anything that might provide another means of countering their attack?”
“They’re fast and they’re dangerous. Blasters won’t take them out, so you’ll need to issue all on the wall with pulse rifles, at the very least. If you have blast cannons, I’d ready those as well.” I hesitated and glanced at Marttia. “I’d also be making evacuation plans.”
“Living on the cusp of a volcanic zone as we do, our evac plans are well bedded down.” Her voice was cool. “But I honestly cannot believe it will come to that.”
“I hope you’re right.” But I honestly believed that she wasn’t.
The commander grunted. “Thank you for your assistance and advice, Nyx. Go get some sleep. We’ll contact you if we need anything further.”
I rose, nodded at all three, and then turned and left. Once outside, I drew in the cool morning air and looked around. Part of me wanted to go check Donal was okay, but I was walking too close to the edge of exhaustion. If I wanted to be in a fit state to go out on patrol tonight, I needed to rest.
I headed down the stairs until I reached the third level and then walked around to our bunkrooms. Merlyn was, unsurprisingly, the only present, and she was fast asleep. I stripped off, dumped my clothes into the laundry chute, and had a long, hot shower that at least eased the ache in my bones if not the overall tiredness. I slipped my knife under my pillow, feeling a weird need to keep it close, and then climbed into bed and went to sleep.
I was woken by singing—soft and very off-key singing. I lay there listening to the sound, trying to place the voice without much success. After a few moments, I gave up and got up.
The singer immediately stopped. “Sorry, did I wake you?”
“No.” I stretched the kinks out of my back and then walked across to the doorway and peered out. The singer was Celi.
“What time is it?” I glanced out the door; dusk hadn’t yet settled in, so at least I wasn’t late for the dinner briefing.
“Five thirty-five.”
I grunted. If I’d slept any longer, I would have been late—especially given I wanted to go see how Donal was progressing. I quickly dressed. “Did you have any problems out there today, Celi?”
“No, but then, we rarely do given the Skaran generally don’t hunt during the day in summer or autumn. It’s a wonder they don’t rotate the teams around every few weeks and give the night teams a break.”
“Maybe they figure it’ll cause too many problems with everyone’s circadian rhythms.”
“Maybe.” She appeared in the doorway and leaned a shoulder against the screen. “Rumor is that you and Donal hit some problems out in the dead lands.”
“You could say that.” I strapped on the sheath and then grabbed my knife and shoved it home.
“Anything we should be worried about?”
“Maybe.” I glanced at her. “I can’t say anything, Celi. That’s up to the captain.”
She grunted. “There’s been some armament changes up on the wall, so there’s obviously something going on. Hopefully the cap will enlighten us sooner rather than later.”
“He will.” It was said with more confidence than I actually felt. I had a vague feeling that neither the commander nor Marttia would believe the true gravity of the situation until the bipeds actually attacked.
If they attacked, that was. Maybe the only reason we’d been chased was the fact we’d intruded on both their lands and their ceremony.
And maybe tomorrow the king and my brother would drop dead, allowing me to reclaim the throne without any sort of problem.
But at least the weapon upgrades were happening. They may not in the end make much difference, but it was better than nothing.
I strapped on my knife belt, sheathed my knife, and then headed for the door. Ceri stepped to one side and allowed me to pass. “I’m heading to medical to check on Donal. I’ll see you at dinner.”
“You will,” she said and returned to her off-key singing.
I clattered down the stairs and walked across to the other side of the courtyard. The medical unit was—according to the signs—on the second floor. A smiling nurse directed me to the third curtained section down the long room. Donal was lying on his stomach the wrong way around on the bed, his arms crossed and a look of sheer boredom on his face.
But at least he smiled when he saw me.
“Princess,” he said cheerfully, “aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”
I raised my eyebrows as I snagged a nearby chair and sat down at the end of his bed. “And why would you say that when, from what I can see, there’s plenty of pretty nurses about to ease the plight of said sore eyes.”
“But all of them stand in awe of my magnificence and I’ve become rather accustomed to your blasé attitude and quick retort
s.”
“Careful, highlander, or I might begin to think you actually like me.”
He grinned. “You—quite literally—saved my butt. Of course I like you.”
I chuckled softly. “Have they said how long you’ll be stuck in here?”
“They’ve got the healers coming twice a day, and they’re saying the wound should be fully repaired with a day or so,” he said. “How did the commander and Marttia take the news?”
I gave him a rundown on everything they’d said, and then added, “So basically, exactly as you’d expect.”
He frowned. “I might ask my father to check our archives—I know we temporarily took in some of the Isle of Whyte refugees, so there might be a mention as to what—or who—they were fighting when they destroyed their island.”
“It’s worth a shot.” Whether any of the investigations would bear worthwhile fruit before the bipeds attacked was another matter entirely. I glanced at the clock—it was five to six, and time to go. “Do you need anything? I can bring it over in the morning, after I’ve finished tonight’s patrol.”
He shook his head. “Just be careful out there—this is a long way from over.”
“I will.” I touched his shoulder lightly. “Don’t give the nurses too hard a time just because you’re bored.”
“I’ll be too busy listening to the wind’s chatter as she updates me on events.”
“Has she said anything about the biped’s movements? And does she know what these things are?”
“No, but that’s not surprising given it appears it’s only your ancestors who have come across them before. Perhaps you should ask the earth about them.”
“I will.” Once he was mobile enough to be there and keep watch while I did. “And the bipeds?”
“Have gone underground—”
“The three who were chasing us or the main group?”
“The three. They’re in shallow graves on their side of the Kanjoi River. The bulk retreated to the tunnel they were digging.” His expression was grim. “The dead zone moved a mile overnight, which suggests they are pushing their machines and people harder.”
And being underground, they didn’t have to stop for daylight. “How long do you think it’ll be before they reach us?”
