The Silver Sphere

by Michael Dadich

  "Hah. Doesn't matter to me," rasped the soldier. "Biskara promised us a rich afterlife. Meridia is doomed already, and the United Forces are crippled thanks to our lord. No hope for you now."

  A crossbow flew between them, sticking the Nightlander in the chest and knocking him backward so far, it pinned him to a tree.

  "He can chew on that in his afterlife," mocked Brodeur as he strode forward. The thief gazed at Zach. "And you told him to stay behind?" he blurted, switching his eyes to Throg.

  Zach scanned the pile of men around him. How did I do this?

  Throg stepped closer and patted him on the back.

  "The girl," Zach said.

  They looked up in the direction the girl had been running. Zach could see nothing but trees. A flock of birds fluttered across the sky followed by smoke.

  "Damsel, we wish you no harm. Are you well?" Brodeur called out to the woods as he motioned to a large fir tree on the right of the path.

  The girl sidled out from behind the trunk, her light brown hair tussled, her face with the look of a tense cat. She was damp with sweat despite the cool breeze, and her oversized tunic was shredded. In her right hand, she gripped a small but sharp dagger.

  "Thank you, dear sirs," she said. "I assure you they would not have taken me alive."

  "My name is Throg. These here are Zach and Brodeur. We were happy to help."

  The young woman gaped at Zach, and then sauntered over to them.

  "I am Morgana, from the village Chapton. They hit us this morning, burning and pillaging our homes. My father ordered me to run. These soldiers spotted me, and chased me as if possessed. My father was not so fortunate." Her eyes welled with tears.

  "Well, my dear, we may not be the safest crew to journey with, but it would be better if you came with us. We're headed to Meracuse, and can provide you with shelter when we arrive. I am sorry for the loss of your village. If your father survived, he would travel this way looking for you, and then probably on to Meracuse."

  "I do not think he persevered." She winced, holding back whatever image she had glimpsed.

  "I insist you come with us. Brodeur, are some warmer garments for her possibly stuffed in that bag of yours?"

  "Yes, of course," said Brodeur. He placed his sack down, rummaged through the contents, and pulled out a piece of cord and a hooded cape. "This rope can be used for a belt to wrap the tunic around you a bit more snugly, and this cloak will keep you warm."

  "I'll repay you when I can," said Morgana, coming forward and accepting them. She wiped her eyes. Tears had made them puffy and red, and her lips trembled.

  Despite the redness of her cheeks, Zach thought she was a lovely young woman.

  "No need," said Brodeur. "A girl your age isn't legal to barter. Consider them gifts."

  Throg interrupted. "Well, we should walk to a safer spot and allow Morgana to rest before we move on. I am sorry we cannot camp long, considering what you have been through, but we are stressed for time. However, we will boil some water for tea before heading out."

  Morgana nodded, her expression strained.

  In silence, they covered ground to a more secure location. Brodeur deftly set up a fire while Morgana hunched with her arms wrapped around her bent knees. Her brow recoiled with anger as tears rippled down her pearly cheeks. The mood ripened with dismal emotion, and Zach could sense Throg was deep in thought.

  "That Nightlander said they crippled the United Forces," Throg said. "And they're scouring and pilfering villages in Meridia with abandon. We may need to consider other options." He took a long swig of hot tea.

  With Sculptor on his left flank, Barrick approached the Kin. "We've decided the best way to journey is to separate into two contingents. The main Meridian Army will continue on the Dorado Path as a decoy, and you'll travel with the Stonecoats and your personal guard on a less visible route. We will travel west and around the Invunche Lake. It's a bit off course, but east is the Evern Mountains, which is too rough a go."

  "Is it wise to split up?" Mr. Dempsey asked.

  "We would not even contemplate it if Milo were not here. We have ultimate confidence you will be safer traveling on a less direct course with a more nimble platoon than on a main path with the battalion. We cannot journey with such a large force on the smaller roads or through the dense forest. We've sent a squad of reconnoiters ahead to scout, and we will be traveling by foot."

  As the group prepared to leave, Shelby noticed a distinct shift in the moods of Barrick and Sculptor. No longer the bickering duo poking fun at each other, they were now clutched and uneasy. Casselton's betrayal and the death of their companions had left them raw and angry. Shelby couldn't blame them.

  "This... seems so hopeless," she whispered next to Mr. Dempsey. "My life is so... hopeless."

  Mr. Dempsey arched his brow. "Put your fears aside, young Shelby. Forget the past. You need to learn that your life is worth fighting for. You are needed. The fate of this world and ours depends on it."

  She stared at the ground and folded her arms across her chest.

  Milo walked up with Cetus and several of the Stonecoats. They had switched to lighter chainmail with earthier tones. Shelby was impressed. It reassured her knowing they had the ability to diversify when needed.

  "We move out immediately," said Milo.

  They trekked through the thicket for almost a mile before coming to a clearing with a large, rocky slope leading down to the bottom. Trees and brush surrounded the gap, and from her post, Shelby could see for miles in all directions. Meridia was enormous. At first, she'd thought the world was smaller than Earth, but as she gazed across the countryside, she felt overwhelmed by its size. A flock of howls launched from the treetops. In the distance, a roar echoed. Mist settled amongst the hills, fading as the day warmed.

  Milo sent a handful of Stonecoats ahead to scout. After inspecting the area, they marched down and beyond the glade. At that point, strained yelling rang from over a hilltop.

  Shelby whipped toward the noise.

  Milo stared up the mound, his expression tight. At the top of the hill was a man racing downward. He fell and spiraled down the slope, but regained his footing and continued his descent.

  "He's Marty, one of the reconnoiters we sent ahead," said Sculptor.

  Marty rolled down a few more feet as Sculptor and Milo rushed up to meet him. Blood seeped from his several small wounds amidst mud and sweat. His hair was matted and his eyes wide. A rough, heavy black beard covered most of his jaw.

  "Nightlanders. Close b-behind me," he gasped. "They h-had us surrounded, almost as if they were expecting us. I'm the l-last one. They wiped out the rest."

  "Right behind you? How many?" Shara shifted from one hoof to the other under Milo's weight.

  "At least a thousand. They have a c-cavalry leading and s-some Disembowelers."

  Pounding hooves echoed in the near distance. Shelby raised her crossbow and loaded it. The mist must have sheltered them, she thought. She exchanged glances with Max, and they both nodded. If it came to a battle, they'd fight to the death.

  "Barrick, your guard and Cetus take the Kin straight north to the outskirts of Bevenia Creek," ordered Milo. "We'll divert their attention, but you must leave now, before they glimpse you and give chase."

  "Milo, should you not come with us to protect the Kin?" said Barrick.

  "Nay, dear friend. With these odds, the Stonecoats will need their leadership. Cetus is my best. We will lead them away. Go now!"

  The Kin followed their guard into the woods, accelerating like runaway wagons. Shelby turned to glance up the embankment as she drove into the foliage. At the top of the hill emerged a score of dark horsemen. Milo bellowed out orders from behind her. Mr. Dempsey grabbed her arm and pulled her forward.

  Cumber raced up behind and whispered, "Hurry. Don' look back."

  They sprinted through the shrubs and branches with fervor, their leather garments shielding them from most of the sharper thorns and brush. The woods thickened and tr
unks blocked her way. Shelby could view little ahead of Mr. Dempsey, except for a glimpse of Stuart. Fog crawled along the forest floor, splitting in their wake.

  Then she caught the sound of war cries, followed by shouting and the clanging of metal. Mr. Dempsey stopped in front of her.

  Stuart turned to them and pointed behind. "They're everywhere—Nightlanders. Cetus and Barrick are fighting a score of them. What do we do?"

  Sculptor circled back with Riley and Emily and shouted, "We can't risk you getting captured. You are ordered to head east for now and hide until someone fetches you. If no one comes, go straight for Meracuse. You have maps in your backpacks."

  Max burst out of the tangled brush, his sword drawn and bloody. "We need to move." Blood spatter dotted his chest.

  Shelby's heart skipped a beat. She hoped it was not his.

  Sculptor nodded. "Go now. I'll find the rest and bring them as soon as I can."

  "Don't wait for me," said Mr. Dempsey. "You are all too important, and faster. I will catch up."

  As they ran, intense pain shot through Shelby's skull. She fell on one knee and held her head. Around her, she sensed mayhem and confusion. The world spun. Smells vanished. Sunlight faded.

  And then there was nothing.

  Shelby lay tranquilly. After a brief hush, a face materialized through the shadows. The woman bore a striking resemblance to her, and Shelby perceived this to be her link, Bianca. No sounds were uttered when Shelby tried calling to her. Bianca's features became clearer, and she wore the crunched expression of pain.

  Bianca attempted to speak, but the words came out slurred. Then a clear sentence emerged: "Go to the Canaveral Caves. You will find...." Her voice trailed off and she drifted away.

  Shelby slipped back into consciousness, and found herself staring down at the moving ground. Someone had slung her over his shoulder.

  She stirred. "Hold on now. What's going on?"

  They stopped abruptly. Max was carrying her.

  "You blacked out and a horde of Nightlanders attacked us. We fought a few moments, and then Sculptor had us run east. We... lost Mr. Dempsey. Sculptor may be behind us, but I haven't seen or heard him. The rest of the Kin are right ahead of us."

  "We lost Mr. Dempsey? Oh, no, we have to go back. We cannot leave him." She jerked back.

  He shifted. "Shelby...." He looked as though he had something to say, but couldn't quite spit out the words. "We have to keep going."

  "But... Mr. Dempsey. Sculptor. We can't just leave them behind."

  "Sculptor might be nearby for all we know. It's too dangerous to search for him right now."

  Shelby looked at the ground as tears welled in her eyes. Max wasn't telling her everything, she knew, but she drew in a deep breath and collected herself. Mr. Dempsey would be behind them, right? After all, they had made it this far, hadn't they?

  She peered behind and hoped Mr. Dempsey and Sculptor were nearby. Sculptor would protect Mr. Dempsey. She decided they couldn't afford to backtrack.

  She looked up at Max. "You're making a habit of saving me. I hope I can return the favor." She smiled weakly. "I received a contact from my link. I have some information."

  "Tell us later. We need to keep moving. The woods aren't safe yet. Run ahead, and I'll bring up the rear."

  She sped forward and within a few moments, outlines of her fellow Kin appeared. Stuart ran next in line and stopped several times to glance back. The resolute concern of a professional soldier adorned his features. She wondered how much her own countenance had changed.

  Shelby tried to keep an eye out for Nightlanders as she ran, but the thick, foggy air kept her from detecting anything beyond the lush, green trees around her. A few birds squawked, but other than that, the forest grew hushed. Her booted feet crunched against a blanket of pine needles and pinecones. After several minutes of running, they stopped at a small clearing and knelt down for a short respite, wheezing and catching their breath as quietly as possible.

  She stared back in the direction from which they'd come. The only sound was their controlled panting. "When was the last time anyone saw Mr. Dempsey?"

  Everyone remained silent for a long minute.

  Finally, Stuart shook his head. "We started to run and you fell to your knees. A second later, a score of Nightlanders came through the bushes. We fought a few seconds. Max picked you up and Sculptor sent us packing. He had his hand-cannon to bring up our rear, with Mr. Dempsey ahead of him." He paused, refusing to meet her eyes. "I... checked and Max was doing okay with you, but... Mr. Dempsey...."

  Shelby's heart stopped. Her knees trembled and grew weak. She scanned each of the Kin's faces. None of them would look at her.

  Voice shaking, she whispered, "What happened?"

  Max emerged from the shrubbery. Dark bags hung under his eyes. He was exhausted, same as the rest of them.

  He finally spoke, breaking the stretch of quiet. "Shelby, I'm sorry. There was nothing w-we...." He shifted uneasily from one foot to the other. "Mr. Dempsey... a Nightlander cut him down. I saw him jump out in front of one on horseback to slow him down after you fell unconscious. I grabbed you and didn't have time to help him."

  At first, Shelby thought she'd heard him wrong. I... I must have. There's no way. Absolutely no way.... She couldn't bring herself to ask Max to repeat what he'd said. Without warning, her knees buckled and she collapsed. Emily and Riley ran to her side. Wet tears dripped down her chin.

  "Mr. Dempsey... he's dead?" The words rang thick and hollow in her mouth.

  "I'm so sorry, Shelby," whispered Riley as she wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders. Even then, Shelby didn't sense her touch.

  Emily crouched beside her, silent as ever. The other girl's long, auburn hair hid her eyes from sight.

  Shelby tried to reason with what Max had said, what they were all saying. She held her skull and trembled.

  She raised her glare and scowled at Max, her voice guttural and angry. "You.... You let him die! You could've saved him—you all should've done something! But you just let him die!"

  "Shelby, please," Max tried to reason, looking hurt. "Please don't say that. You were unconscious—it was either save you or him. He told me to take you and run... his dying words, Shel—"

  "No!" She jumped to her feet and curled her hands into fists. Nearby, a rock skidded across the ground, smashing into a boulder. "No! It's not true!" Anger vanished, replaced by an empty fear. A nagging pain wrenched at her heart. "Please, Max, tell me it's not true."

  He shook his head slowly.

  She'd hurt him; she grasped it in the way he turned from her.

  "We should rest," he said. "All of us."

  Before Shelby mustered an apology, Max stalked away. The other Kin were mute for a time.

  Riley stood at last and said, "He was a brave man, Shelby. I... I don't know what we could have done. He...."

  Shelby pushed Riley's arms from her. "Leave me alone." Without another word, she stormed over to the boulder, crouched, and closed her eyes, letting the tears fall.

  He's dead. That was the only thing repeating in her mind. He's gone, dead, dead, dead. All because he followed me through the portal. Why?

  No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't think of a reason. Max had left him. They all had. I... did.... And for what? So I could live? It should've been me, not him. He never did anything wrong. He never hurt anyone.

  It sank in, slow but sure. Yes, Mr. Dempsey was gone, the hole he left behind, bottomless. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to make the pain go away. He'd died saving her; he was gone, but she was here.

  Malefic killed him. Malefic and his Nightlanders murdered Mr. Dempsey.

  Emily sat next to her, placing a hand on her back.

  "I'm going to miss him too, Shelby. I'm so lucky I got to know him a little while we traveled."

  Shelby glanced at the other girl.

  "He cared. He really cared about all of us."

  "He did, and look what it got him. It's my fault
he was even here."

  "No. He liked it here. He kept saying it was the sort of adventure you could only read about in books."

  Shelby nodded and wiped at her tears. "I know, but all he did was look after me. And help me. Comfort me. What did I do for him, or myself?"

  "He helped me too—all of us. He listened to me." Tears welled in Emily's eyes.

  "Listened to what?"

  Emily shook her head.

  "Please, I can be your friend, too," Shelby said.

  "This is so hard—all of this."

  "I know. I'm here."

  Emily embraced her, and Shelby held her a few seconds.

  "I just realized I haven't hugged anyone in so long," said Shelby.

  "I know. Since home."

  She reached across and brushed the tears from Emily's eyes.

  "Shelby, I was kidnapped."

  "Well, we all kinda followed the messages and—"

  "I mean back home. A few days before the... portal."

  "Oh my God. Emily—"

  "The worst part is the guy who rescued me... he... died saving me. Right in my arms."

  "Oh, Emily." She wrapped her arms around Emily again.

  "It's okay. I'm working on it. Mr. Dempsey didn't treat me like I was weird. Like he sensed something—a lot of things."

  "Yeah, I think he did."

  "What do you think he would say right now?"

  Shelby sighed. "Probably to trust each other. Pick each other up and focus on the problem."

  "Malefic."

  Resolved, they stood. Shelby's leather gauntlets squeaked as she clutched her hands into fists. Returning to the Kin, with Emily behind her, she said, "Where do we go from here?"

  The others seemed depressed. They'd been munching and drinking, but quietly, as though they didn't have the heart to nourish themselves.

  Shelby's guts roiled. The mere smell of food made her nauseous. Mr. Dempsey will never eat again.

  Thrusting the thought aside, she turned to Max. He and the others looked to her.

  "You said you had contact with your link?" inquired Max, his voice hollow.