by Jaxon Reed
OLDSTONE AND MITA spent a long time in discussion with Greystone, Redstone, and Trant at the command compound set up near the gateway to the village. They planned out the structure of their makeshift defenses.
At long last everyone called it a night, and most retreated to their tents set up nearby.
Oldstone shot up into the night sky. Mita watched him ascend and decided to follow. Soon, she neared him high above the forest clearing where he stopped, staring off in the distance.
In the dim night, several miles away, she could make out a patch of lighter ground marking the clearing of trees by Darkstone’s metal men along the old road. As they watched, the patch grew longer, steadily approaching in their direction.
“He’ll work them through the night,” Oldstone said. “The colossi will be here by morning. The soldiers will break camp and march in soon after.”
Mita shivered involuntarily in the cool night air, and pulled up the armor all around her. It warmed her body, protecting her from the elements.
“Will we be able to stop them?”
“With you, yes. Also, several on the council have agreed to help out. I think with our wizards and a battlemaiden the odds will be more than even. Besides, I have a few tricks up my sleeve that will help quite a bit, when the time comes.”
She nodded and watched as the line continued to move perceptibly toward them. Oldstone seemed to be in a particularly good mood, circumstances notwithstanding. Perhaps it was the opportunity to leave the flying castle and engage in meaningful action. She decided to try and talk, to see if she could learn anything more from him.
“I noticed your facsimiles are different. Cutie has a different dress, and Cookie is skinny now.”
“Yes. I altered them before you came to the castle. I feared their normal appearance might detract from your early training.”
Mentally she chewed on his response, wondering how their current appearance could have hindered her in those early days. They were certainly more attractive, now. She thought back to the first time she put on the plain cotton servant’s dress and wondered if she would have been intimidated by the servants as they looked now.
Yes perhaps she would have, she thought. To be surrounded by attractive servants who did not actually serve her very much, while she was dressed in such plain attire, would have been irritating during those early days.
She went back in her mind to her first day in the castle, thinking of the dress, the lack of servants, the scrubbing of floors. Then she had another thought.
“Master? Why did you spank me that first day?”
He snorted.
“Because you needed it. Silly question.”
“No, really. There must be a hundred different ways you could have convinced me to clean the floor. Why spanking?”
“Spanking is the quickest and most efficient means of correction for children. The sooner you realize the world doesn’t revolve around you, the better you will be as a person. A good spanking is the fastest way to transmit this knowledge to you. You can’t control it, and it’s rather uncomfortable. It forces you to submit to a higher authority, adjusting your attitude to comport with reality.
“It physically makes you see things from the perspective of a higher authority, and so long as it’s only painful and doesn’t break the skin or otherwise injure you, it’s beneficial for your mental and emotional development.”
She nodded, wondering whether to agree with him or not.
“It’s just . . . I’ve never been spanked before.”
“Few noble children are, royal ones even less so. It works best on children under six, but I had to make do in your current condition. You learned your lesson, and we moved on.”
He waved his hand, dismissing the matter.
Then another thought struck her. She didn’t pause to consider the audacity of her next question.
“Do you sleep with them?”
He looked over at her, startled.
“Who?”
“Your facsimiles, Cutie and Cookie.”
His brows furrowed.
“Would you like to discuss your love life?”
She blushed deeply, though he couldn’t see it.
“Of course not. I’m a virgin, I have no love life.”
“Then we shan’t discuss mine.”
He waved his hand again, dismissing the conversation. She hesitated, then decided to try one more line of inquiry before giving up for the night.
“Master, are you the most powerful wizard? I know there are twelve on the council, and I know you are the oldest. But are you the most powerful? Is Darkstone stronger than you?”
This time he was not as quick to brush aside the questions. He tugged thoughtfully on his beard as they floated in the dark sky.
Finally, he shrugged.
“Each of us wields the Creator’s magic in different ways. Talented artists create works of beauty with their magic, while mages and wizards dabble in practical applications. Who is to say whether one person is more ‘powerful’ than another?”
She frowned. That did not sound like a direct answer, she thought.
“Yes, but, you are the most talented aren’t you? I mean, you’re Oldstone. You’ve been around longer than any of us. You’ve learned the most, you’ve seen the most . . .”
He turned toward her, and she could see annoyance flashing across his face, even in the dim light.
“Must opening one line of conversation inevitably lead to another? Teenage girls! Lord Creator be with me!”
With that, he flew away and back down toward the camps below.
DARKSTONE WAVED and the scrying window winked out, taking with it a nighttime vision of the road clearing as seen by a circling hawk.
Endrick raised his eyebrows.
“I must say, your creations are making impressive progress.”
“Yes. My metal men should be at the gate to Greystone’s village by morning. The army will follow soon after. Although, there may not be much left to fight after the metal men take care of whatever pitiful defenses Greystone has to offer.”
“And then what? You think Greystone will just hand over the dagger you seek?”
Darkstone laughed.
“No, of course not. I’ll have to find the dagger on my own.”
“You think it’s still nearby?”
“Almost certainly. They can’t transport the dagger by magic, its power prevents that. He could not have taken it through the gateway into his village. No, the only question is how far he had it manually transported before hiding it. If I had to guess, I would say not very far. We should find it nearby.”
“And how do you propose to find it? Won’t your magical efforts at doing so be thwarted?”
“Ah, Endrick, you have much to learn. Of course my efforts at using magic will be thwarted in finding the dagger. And that’s how we’ll find it.”
Endrick blinked in confusion. The comment made no sense.
He shrugged. Ultimately, he did not care whether Darkstone found the blade or not.
“So long as Princess Margwen remains unharmed in your attack, nothing else really matters.”
“Yes, yes. Don’t worry, Endrick. You will get your pet, and I will get my weapon. Together, we will be unstoppable.”
CHAPTER 15
With dawn’s first light, the villagers woke to the sound of trees being violently uprooted along with the metal clanking of giant footsteps. Campfires were started, food quickly prepared and eaten. The inn’s serving wench ran out of the gate carrying a large bag of coneys toward a central cooking fire.
Oldstone emerged from a simple hut he had created for himself. It disappeared in a puff of smoke as soon as he shut the door.
Mita had slept in the open along with several other girls and women from the town. She stretched, and her magical armor spread out across her arms and legs. She wandered over to a campfire looking for food.
Greystone, Trant, and Margwen stepped through the gate together and headed toward O
ldstone. They spoke for a moment then Oldstone created a portal, a large hazy globe. Mita noted, looking at it from a distance, its substance seemed similar to the village’s gate. Over the next several minutes half a dozen wizards stepped through, apparating into the open field.
A SQUIRE WALKED up with Trant’s horse. He put a foot in the stirrup and swung up in the saddle.
“Are you sure you’ll be alright?”
“Don’t worry, Margwen. Say a prayer for me while you’re at the church.”
“I’ll say a prayer for you anywhere and everywhere. For all of us.”
He nodded.
Margwen had volunteered to work at the makeshift hospital in the church. The village had no healers, but Isabeth and Anabella both insisted that royal nannies were trained in basic medicine. They promptly took over supervising volunteers at the church.
Margwen said goodbye, desperately wishing for one last kiss but settling for a wave. She disappeared through the portal to Greystone Village.
THE SOUNDS of uprooted trees and the clanking of metal grew louder.
Mita approached the wizards as they talked quietly. She caught Oldstone’s eye, and he realized she had a question. He bent down so she could whisper in his ear.
“Where are the other wizards? There should be eleven here.”
He stood erect, and acknowledged her statement with a serious look in his eyes and a small frown expressing disappointment.
“Three have decided to have no part in today’s activities. Sandstone, Quartzstone, and Silverstone will not be joining us.”
Mita furrowed her brows at the news, and committed the names to memory.
“Why not? This is important! We could use all the help we can get.”
Oldstone shrugged.
“There is an attitude among some wizards calling for a separation from the affairs of others less knowledgeable in magic. However, most of us feel we are all connected and the affairs of others eventually affect us as well. But these three are more committed to the traditional wizardly ethos than the rest of us.”
Mita frowned, but decided pressing the issue further would be counterproductive. About that time, Barley and Fret walked up to the group.
“Ah, Master Barley,” Greystone said. “I am delighted to see you here. We are in great need of the superior dwarven military knowledge you bring to our group.”
Barley made a short bow. Fret imitated him.
“I am Barley, son o’ Wort, Clan Nugget. I am a brewer’s son, an’ I am a brewer meself. I fear I ha’ little war knowledge of any use.
“My son, on th’ other hand . . .”
He paused and glanced toward Fret, who smiled back and stepped forward a pace.
“My son has chosen not t’ follow in th’ family business. Instead, he ha’ spent several years in th’ Military Academy.”
Eyebrows shot up all around, and several of the wizards nodded and smiled at their good fortune.
Mita frowned in mild surprise.
“The dwarves have a military academy?”
“Aye, lassie. We’d one before Lok came around, but after tha’ scoundrel an’ his deeds, King Nudge became right serious about it, iffen ye know what I means. He poured considerable gold into th’ academy in order t’ gather greater knowledge o’ war an’ how dwarves might best use it t’ our advantage.
“I admit t’ ye, I had reservations about m’ boy goin’ t’ study there instead of apprenticin’ under me at th’ brewery. But th’ Creator works His way through our lives, many times e’en when we kinna see it right away.
“Aye, th’ lad be fully trained fer leadin’ battles such as this. He’ll be yer leader, or provide advice to yer leader, whichever suits ye. I’ll be takin’ me axe and fightin’ with th’ others.”
Barley clasped his son on the shoulder, then gave a standing half bow to the humans and tromped off to find a group where his services might be useful.
Fret turned, and suddenly realized several powerful and important humans were all looking down at him.
He gulped.
“I’m at yer service. Mind, I’m a recent graduate of th’ Academy. And I’ve ne’er seen battle before. Iffen yer comfortable wi’ those facts, then like I said, I’m at yer service.”
Oldstone smiled at the young dwarf.
“We appreciate your assistance, Master Fret. Here is the first thing we are going to have to deal with. We’d love to hear your thoughts on how to handle it.”
He waved his hand and a scrying window appeared, showing what a distant hawk could see. The line of metal men neared the edge of the clearing, a few scant trees blocking their way. As the group watched, the giants pushed and pulled and uprooted them, marching them back to piles behind them.
Fret fingered the ribbons in his beard as he watched the monstrosities’ destruction. He looked up and noticed everybody looking at him, waiting for him to say something.
He gulped again.
“They appear t’ be based on rock ogres. Rock ogres’ biggest weakness be traps. Pits and such. Tha’s usually how we try an’ prevent ’em from climbin’ out o’ deeper mines. We set pit traps in th’ shafts leadin’ up. Once a rock ogre is trapped, we can bury him.”
The wizards looked at one another, several of them nodding. Oldstone cleared his throat.
“Ground magic is your specialty, Redstone. Why don’t you see to it?”
Redstone nodded. The chunk of ground he stood on broke away, and he flew off toward the ramparts.
Oldstone watched him recede in the distance, then turned to address the dwarf again.
“Master Fret, if you would follow me, I would like to get your thoughts on our other defensive preparations. But first, I have a short speech that everyone needs to hear.”
WHEN THE VILLAGERS had assembled near the gate, Oldstone levitated a few paces into the air so they all could see him. He amplified his voice so they could hear him, too.
“We want to thank you all for your service today. Your loyalty to Wizard Greystone and Lord Trant, and your desire to defend your home is admirable. You are all to be commended.
“I have a spell that is very difficult and requires a great deal of strength to conjure. I have waited until this morning because, for one reason, it works best when cast in the morning light. It is called the Second Skin of Sunlight.
“Once this spell is cast, as long as the sun shines today you will be invulnerable. Swords and arrows, knives and arbalest bolts, all these and more will fail to penetrate your skin.
“Now, if you all would be so good as to remain standing still for a moment, I’ll cast the spell.”
Oldstone floated back down to the ground, then turned toward the rising sun and started waving his hands in a complicated pattern. A golden halo appeared around his head, then his entire body seemed to glow in sunlight. Arcs of light sprouted off, landing on the people all around him. Those nearest to him were touched by the light first, then the arcs spread rapidly outward.
Each person touched by an arc glowed briefly, then they were covered in a layer of translucent golden light.
Out in the crowd, Stin received an arc of light from the wizard. His body was instantly covered by golden illumination. He pushed against the palm of his hand with a finger, and found he couldn’t touch his flesh.
To his right, Beet looked in wonder at his own hands.
“By the Hightower, I ain’t never seen nothin’ like this before!”
Beet looked over at Stin, and Stin could see an idea forming in the other man’s head. He guessed what Beet was thinking.
“Don’t do it!”
But before Stin could react, Beet swung his halberd at him. It stopped suddenly, stuck in the golden light at Stin’s midsection.
“Thanks a lot. You could have really hurt me with that.”
Beet’s face lit up in a smile.
“It works! Try it on me!”
Stin took his halberd and swung a little harder than he intended at Beet’s neck. But it stopped too, b
ecoming immobile in the layer of light. Beet laughed, triumphantly.
“They can’t touch us! Ay, halberds! Follow me to the ramparts!
WHEN THE LAST person received their second skin, Oldstone slumped suddenly in exhaustion. Mita ran over and propped him up on her shoulder.
“Master? Are you alright?”
“Hm? I’m fine. That one takes a lot out of me. Let me just conjure a chair and sit for a moment.”
He moved his hand to try and create a chair, but failed. Mita saw the movement and grasped the spell at once. She repeated it, successfully, and a simple wooden chair popped into existence. She set him gently down on it.
AS REDSTONE HOVERED over the field near the ramparts, he watched the last of the trees get ripped up by metal men. He waved his arms, and the ground shifted along the tree line. Underground pockets formed, giant cavities of empty space, as dirt receded and moved to other locations. The surface stayed mostly the same, despite a few dips that suddenly formed. Once finished, he nodded to himself in satisfaction.
The final few trees were uprooted and carried off. Ten giant metal men advanced toward the open field and the ramparts. They stomped forward, their feet make the ground tremble. Several heads popped up over the dirt works as villagers took up defensive positions and craned their necks for a view.
Redstone flew back to the others. He carved out an even larger chunk of ground where all the wizards stood, then he lifted it up into the air and moved everyone closer to the front lines, hovering several paces up.
He smiled at Mita and the exhausted Oldstone.
“This will be our command post. Best seat in the house!”
Oldstone smiled tiredly, and murmured soft thanks.
They floated above the trenches and ramparts, watching as the first ten metal men marched into the clearing, shaking the ground beneath their feet.
Almost in unison, as they took another step, the ground gave way suddenly. Nine of the giants fell into a pit as they broke through its light cover. The tenth had uprooted the last tree, and marched slightly behind the others. It teetered over the edge of the pit, one foot hanging out over empty air. The wizards and the villagers watched as it comically swung its arms in circles, trying to regain balance. Then it slowly tumped over and fell face-first into the large hole.
