Edda

by Conor Kostick

  “Hello there. Are any of you capable of negotiating?” She raced up the ladder with barely a pause.

  The two modern-looking figures equipped with pistols drew them with identical motions and fired upon Cindella. But it was the unit with a sword and banded metal armor that Erik was watching most carefully. It leaped upon her and hammered down hard with its bright blade. There was not enough room to skip back, nor could Cindella fully deflect the blow. It hit her, causing a distinct drop in her health points: she was now below 50 percent. At least the lunge had brought the soldier within range of the Dagger of Frozen Hate, which she thrust at him. Unerringly, it pierced the head of the officer through the roof of his open mouth and he fell to the side, dead. The other two officers seemed to have no other tactic than to attempt to shoot Cindella with their pistols and she had no difficulty dispatching them with the rapier.

  What next? This time she really ought to drink a healing potion. The two red flasks were in the first menu of the Bag of Dimensions so that he could access them quickly. As Cindella’s health bar rose swiftly, she turned around slowly so that Erik could appraise the situation.

  It seemed that they had nearly won the battle. Two great rocs were still in action, sweeping from the skies to grab at the remaining enemy vehicles and cast them to their destruction from on high. And while the battlefield was covered with the bodies of dead raptors, thousands of gray soldier units also lay strewn about, seemingly resting under a blanket of feathers. The balance of the remaining forces clearly favored the birds, even before he factored in the steady and effective blasts of energy coming from Ghost, Milan, Athena, and Gunnar, now firing from behind the ruined gates into the compound. There was no sign of Jodocus, but if he was summoning another elemental now that his rock one was destroyed, that would add to their advantage.

  Just as Erik was beginning to feel a sense of triumph—that they were going to defeat this army and gain control of the portal—the pattern of the fighting changed. All at once, as though the bindings on a collection of balloons had been released, the birds stopped fighting and flew away in different directions. A golden object fell from the sky and crashed into the ground close to Cindella with a stunning clap of sound. It was Anadia’s chariot, and her body was among the wreckage, as shattered and lifeless as a broken doll.

  Shocked, Erik looked up, but it was hard to see past the departing birds; their plumage was floating everywhere, scattered by the bullets that the soldiers continued to fire into the sky. There was no sign of another airplane, but all the same, Cindella drew her bow again and Erik sought in her bag for one of his remaining magical arrows.

  There were still several hundred enemy soldiers in action and as the birds dispersed, increasing numbers of rifles turned to attack Ghost’s group outside the gate. Even worse, a phalanx of armored soldiers was also running their way. Ghost could control the energy of missiles, but could she avoid harm when fighting hand to hand? Having dispatched a number of shots from her bow, reducing the phalanx by ten or so, Cindella then dropped the weapon and vaulted from the command tower. The legionnaires were bunched together at the gates of the compound and Cindella hit the back of their formation, rapier and dagger lashing out swiftly. They were slow to respond, as they were all pushing forward clumsily and making hacking motions with their swords, but when they did turn toward her, Cindella’s health points began to drop—not too rapidly, but enough that she would not be able to clear them all without dying. But would breaking away to save Cindella put Ghost and the others in mortal danger? Cindella jumped up and kicked against the shield of one of the soldiers to push herself even higher into the air. For a moment, while in mid-somersault, Erik could see what was happening at the gate. A glistening, transparent wall, like ice, stood between the legionnaires and Ghost, who was pale and sweating, her arms outstretched. Dozens of soldiers were hacking at the wall with their swords. There was no sign of the others. Erik’s guess was that they had run, while Ghost was holding up the chase for as long as she could. Cindella landed and Erik was fighting again. It looked like Ghost was straining to hold back these units, so Erik resolved to stay as long as he could, maybe even until Cindella’s death.

  No matter how she weaved a course through the soldiers—ducking, rolling, leaping—his avatar was still taking hits. Fifty percent. As a soldier swung and missed her, Cindella stabbed his outstretched arm with the dagger and pulled him stumbling across the path of some of her other assailants, giving her a moment to turn and face some of those attacking her from behind. Forty percent, and there seemed to be as many enemies as ever. Perhaps more had joined the fight? Erik dropped the Dagger of Frozen Hate and reached for his last healing potion.

  A message flashed in the corner of his vision.

  ACTION FAILED: INTERRUPTION.

  He tried again.

  ACTION FAILED: INTERRUPTION.

  And again.

  ACTION FAILED: INTERRUPTION.

  It was no good; the blows were coming too fast. He would have to get clear of the fighting for Cindella to be able to drink the potion. Thirty percent and falling. Cindella pushed on toward Ghost; at least she could clear away some of those hacking at Ghost’s protective wall. Twenty percent. Was he really wise to risk losing Cindella? They had no idea what was on the other side of the gate. There still might be major undertakings ahead. And could he really leave Gunnar as the only representative of New Earth in whatever negotiations took place when they found the EI behind these armies? Ten percent. If he was going to flee, it had to be now. Ghost could deal with the situation, couldn’t she? But he would never forgive himself if his friend died here while he was protecting what, after all, was only an avatar.

  Cindella’s health bar was a bare sliver of color when suddenly there was light and space. The legionnaires around her were flying in all directions as the powerful fists of an air elemental swept them aside. The giant creature towered over Cindella, the swirling winds around the monster causing her long red hair to fly across Erik’s vision. For a moment the elemental seemed poised to strike her down and that certainly would have been the end of Cindella. But it evidently recognized that she was not the enemy, as it spun about on its whirling torso and rushed across to where there was a line of riflemen to destroy. Cindella was saved!

  Cindella turned to Ghost with a smile. But Ghost was already running away from the compound, down the grassy slope to where Athena and Gunnar were kneeling by a prone figure. The warm feeling of delight that had just spread through Erik fell away in an instant, to be replaced with a horrible sense of foreboding. Pausing only to pick up the Dagger of Frozen Hate, Cindella, too, ran toward the group.

  “The stupid fool. I told him not to get too far from Ghost.” Athena looked up from the body of Milan. Her dark eye shadow had run down her face. “Oh Milan. Say something. Open your eyes!”

  With a plaintive note in his voice, Gunnar gestured to Milan. “I’ve done what I can, but he’s dying.”

  All of Milan’s right side was a black ruin. His arm looked like a stick of charcoal. His head was unrecognizable; the right eye socket was hollow, and gray teeth showed where his lips were missing.

  “Blood and thunder! What happened?” asked Erik, appalled.

  “He came up near the gate, when it seemed like the battle was going our way,” replied Ghost glumly. “But then after the birds went everything changed, and a tank shell exploded beside him, just too far from me to protect him.” Her tears were falling on Milan’s chest, where she had placed her hand over his heart. “I’m keeping him going for now. Is there anything you can do?”

  “I . . . I’ve got a potion of healing left.” Hurriedly, Cindella drew out the glass bottle. “Thank the stars. I nearly drank it just now.”

  Athena looked up with desperate hope in her eyes. “Will that work?”

  “I don’t know.” He wanted to reassure Athena that Cindella’s magic would help poor Milan, but deep down it seemed unlikely to Erik that a healing potion from Epic would have any ef
fect on a person from Saga.

  Tipping Milan’s head up a fraction, Cindella poured the red liquid into the broken mouth. Even though Erik was careful, the potion began to leak down the exposed side of Milan’s face. He peered in between the blackened teeth. “It’s just draining away.”

  “Try again!” Athena turned Milan’s head, so that the less damaged side was facing the ground. Inside his headset, Erik’s eyes filled with tears at the horrific damage now evident on Milan’s head. It took a moment for him to blink them away, so that he could see well enough to have Cindella pour what remained of the potion into Milan. But Milan’s mouth just filled up until the potion began to spill out over his chin. He was too far gone to swallow for himself.

  “Ghost, can you make him swallow?”

  “Move, Athena.” Ghost shifted up, still keeping one hand over Milan’s chest. The other she placed carefully on his scorched throat. “There. Perhaps a little got through.”

  The four of them watched intensely. Erik noticed that Gunnar was resting a hand sympathetically on Athena’s shoulder. But if anything, Milan’s body just looked even more gray and lifeless.

  “All’s well?”

  Everyone turned to see Jodocus walking toward them, a rather battered and deflated air elemental a short distance behind him.

  “No,” said Erik. “Milan’s dying. Can you help?”

  Jodocus gave a shake of his head.

  “All I can do is summon elementals. And there is no elemental that can help a person recover from injury, let alone wounds as severe as these.” Jodocus squatted down beside the body, and his stocky fingers gently touched the tattoo he had given Milan. It was no longer in motion. “Poor kid. I liked him.”

  “Ghost?” Athena’s voice was that of a shattered violin.

  “I’m keeping his heart going. But as soon as I let go . . .”

  “The idiot. The reckless idiot. He loved to show off. But he really never needed to. I don’t know anyone braver than Milan; he was the real thing, genuinely brave. All that talk in someone else would have been a cover for their fears, but not for him.”

  No one wanted to give up on Milan. So they stayed with the body as plumes of dark smoke rising from damaged vehicles gradually spread across the sky. While looking up at the clouds, Erik recalled the shock of seeing Anadia smash into the ground beside him.

  “Anadia’s dead, too.” Cindella’s head turned so that Erik could see Jodocus. “Just when I thought we were going to come through this—all of us—she crashed and the birds stopped fighting.” He paused. “Did you see what happened to her?”

  “Me?” Jodocus shook his head. “I’ve no idea. A missile hit her chariot, perhaps.”

  “Missile? I don’t think any of their equipment fired missiles.”

  The others sensed from the tone of Erik’s voice that something was amiss, but although he caught Ghost and Athena exchanging a glance, no one said anything. Nor did Jodocus make any attempt to reply; he turned his bald head away, looking over at the damaged compound.

  “I’m sorry for your friend. But we should go through the portal while we can. All that smoke is going to attract attention, even if they didn’t manage to send an alarm.”

  Athena looked up at the elementalist, shocked and furious. “What, just leave him here?”

  Ghost stood up. For a moment her fingers pointed down at Milan with a tremble, but her voice was steady. “Milan’s gone, Athena. And Jodocus is right. If we miss this chance to go through the portal, it will all have been a terrible waste.”

  “But it doesn’t seem right to just leave him here. Not to mourn him properly.”

  “Oh, we’ll mourn him all right. In the only way worthy of him: through acts of bloody vengeance.” Ghost shot Erik a look that was so ferocious it caused a shudder to run through him and he understood that whoever was controlling the troops that had killed Milan was doomed.

  “Very well.” Wiping her face, Athena got up and gave a salute to the body of her friend. Then she set out for the compound with a resolute stride, not looking back.

  Erik let Jodocus and the air elemental go on ahead of him, then he reached out Cindella’s hand and touched Ghost’s elbow.

  With astonishing speed and dark looks, Ghost turned to face him. “Don’t you dare lecture me on non-violence. Now is not the time.”

  “I know. It’s something else.” He dropped his voice to a whisper. “What do you think of Jodocus?”

  “I don’t trust him,” Ghost replied at once. “There’s something about him that grates on my nerves. I don’t mean his manners; I mean that when I’m concentrating on the environment around me, there’s something not quite right about him.”

  “I think he killed Anadia. And that might have cost Milan his life.”

  “Really?” Ghost looked surprised. “Why?”

  “I don’t know why. Probably it had something to do with the old feud they had going.”

  “No, I mean, what makes you think he killed her?”

  “Well, I have no proof; it’s just that I had a pretty good view of the battlefield when Anadia plunged from the sky and when I looked around for him, he was missing from the fight, nor was there any sign of his elemental. But when one did appear later on, it was an air elemental. He said he was going to summon stone elementals for the battle.”

  Ghost shrugged. “But that fight was crazy. He could have been right in the middle of things and you wouldn’t necessarily have seen him.”

  “Right. That’s what I thought until just now, when I asked him about it. But I didn’t like his answer. I think we should have a look at the crash site.”

  “Come on then.” With one last glance at the charred and lifeless body that had once been Milan, Ghost set off ahead of Cindella. It did not take them long to reach the remains of the chariot. Up ahead of them, Jodocus had followed Athena through the gates of the compound.

  “Did Anadia strike you as the kind of woman who takes unnecessary risks?” Erik spotted a fallen rifle and Cindella picked it up.

  “Definitely not.”

  Lining up the sights of the rifle on a broken section of the chariot, Cindella fired. The bullet ricocheted away with a high-pitched whine.

  “Hardly a scratch. Like I thought.”

  They looked at the unpleasant sight of the broken-boned sorceress, lying among the debris of her crash.

  “She stayed well away from the fighting,” mused Erik. “And in any case, no bullet from down here was going to kill her. Not through that armor. Maybe an airplane could have obtained the angle to shoot her, but I took down the only plane in the battle.” He paused. “There could have been an air elemental up there, though.”

  Ghost looked up into the blue sky, then back down to the wreckage. All of a sudden she sat down on the ground and held on to her legs. They were trembling.

  “Sorry, it’s hard to concentrate. I keep thinking about Milan, lying there . . .”

  “I know.” Cindella sat beside Ghost. “I have shudders, too, back in my real body.”

  “Anyway”—Ghost sniffed and wiped her hand across her cheek—“I think you are onto something important. It was when Jodocus said a missile shot down Anadia that you got suspicious? You thought he was trying to keep us from thinking more carefully about her death?”

  “Actually, now that I think about it, a part of me was suspicious from the time she fell, but I was too busy fighting and then . . . Milan. When Jodocus said that, though, all my doubts came back. I really felt he was trying to throw us off track; he would have known there were no missiles.”

  “You know what else?” mused Ghost.

  “Yeah?”

  “We’ve assumed all along that he’s working against whoever controls these armies. But what if he’s working with them? What if the scout we tracked to the volcano was supposed to deliver his reports there?”

  “Yeah, a traitor among the domini. Except”—Cindella shook her head—“then it doesn’t really make sense why he would help destroy this
army.”

  “No,” Ghost agreed, then fell silent again.

  “Could you take him on, if you had to?”

  “I’m not sure. Probably not if he had more than two elementals going at me.”

  “And he claims he can release lots of them from his tattoos,” observed Erik.

  “Right. So what shall we do?”

  “Let’s see if he’s willing to fight whatever is on the other side of the portal. And keep alert to the fact that he might be a danger.”

  “Perhaps we can jump him when he’s asleep and tie him up, or wake him up with a gun to his head, ready to shoot if he releases the elementals?”

  “I’m not sure what that would achieve.”

  Ghost sighed. “Well, change the subject, because here he comes.”

  Stepping around the bodies of fallen soldiers, Jodocus was making his way back down from the compound toward them. While it would have been hard for Erik to disguise his mistrust of the elementalist, Cindella gave a perfectly sincere smile.

  “We should probably hurry.” Stone-faced as ever, Jodocus pointed toward the portal.

  “If there’s another large army on the other side, can you defeat it?” asked Ghost, with a hint of hostility that Erik hoped was lost on Jodocus.

  “Yes, although it will cost me.” The elementalist glanced at his tattooed arms and involuntarily rubbed them.

  “But you are prepared for that?” said Ghost.

  “Of course. Otherwise, like you said, this battle and the death of your friend has been a waste of time.”

  “Right then.” Erik looked toward the compound entrance. “Cindella is back up to twenty-eight percent health. How about you and I go through and see what’s there?”

  “Well, I was going to send the air elemental first, as a shield.”