Harmonic Magic Series Boxed Set

by P. E. Padilla

  “Thank you, Sam,” Rindu said. “I felt that it was fitting in the circumstance.”

  As they teleported away, those they left at the temple site waved and smiled and looked anxious to start their work. Sam smiled. Fitting indeed.

  Chapter 37

  When the three returned to Whitehall, the others were waiting for them. Ix, Nalia, Emerius, Palusa Filk, and Ru Wilkes were sitting around the traveling point with various degrees of patience.

  “You didn’t have to wait for us here,” Sam said. “We could have gone and found you.”

  “Everyone is too impatient for that,” Ix said. “I, for one, want to get this over with, and any delays are unwelcome.”

  Sam felt his cheeks warm. “Sorry. Have you been waiting long?”

  “No,” Nalia said. “We have been here but a few minutes. Do not let it concern you, Sam. We are anxious to proceed, true, but starting the reconstruction of the temple is important as well.”

  Ix dipped her head. “That’s true. I didn’t mean for it to sound so harsh. I’m eager to get rid of this Chetra Dal. I am tired of war.”

  The others all nodded.

  “Okay, then,” Sam said. “Everyone gather around so I can take us to the place Ix showed me yesterday.” Sam seated himself and prepared to teleport them.

  “Wait,” a woman’s voice said. “Wait for me. I don’t want to be left out again.” It was Regi, running toward them from around the keep, a long pole with blades at both ends held in her hand.

  Sam looked to Nalia, raising his eyebrows.

  “I found it in one of the armories,” Nalia told him. “It is almost identical to the weapon she used to use. She was very skilled with it. Even without practice for the last several years, she is capable and will not be a hindrance.”

  “Thank you,” the golden-haired Sapsyr said, sliding in between Nalia and Rindu. Her smile lit up the courtyard. Sam thought maybe she wasn’t the ugliest woman he’d seen. Not with that smile.

  Nalia looked at her friend. “You are wearing Sapsyra garb. You swore you would never do so, that you liked your own style of clothing. Clothing that showed off your body, if I recall correctly.”

  Regi’s face colored. “I now wear the traditional clothing of a Sapsyr as a sign of respect and allegiance to the Order. I have told Tika of my secret and watched her eyes light up when I removed from the storage box a set of clothing I have kept all these years. I look pretty fantastic in them, right?”

  Nalia shook her head, but she smiled nonetheless.

  With everyone ready, Sam matched their vibrations to their destination and the party was instantly in another location.

  The night before, it had been dark by the time Ix had showed Sam the spot where she and Ru Wilkes stopped. In daylight, he saw the land was generally level plains, with a few flat-topped hills that looked as if their sides had been bunched up around them, compressed and folded like cloth. They were near one of them, and he could see how the patterns were most likely from heavy rains that washed the soil off in runnels year by year.

  Other than the little hills, all Sam could see for miles was featureless grasslands. Tiny clumps of misshapen trees dotted the landscape in a few locations, but otherwise this was as desolate a land as Sam had ever seen. It would be good for farming, he thought, but it didn’t seem as if anyone farmed the area.

  The wind whistled past, causing a chill to run up Sam’s spine. At least, he thought it was the wind that caused it. The thought of engaging Chetra Dal in combat could have been responsible. He remembered the fight with Ayim Rasaad. He, along with Rindu and Nalia, had barely been able to best her, and Chetra Dal was her master. How much more powerful was he?

  “Sam,” Nalia said. “Are you well?”

  “Yes. I’m ready. Let’s do this.” Funny how he didn’t feel foolish saying that this time, like he had during his last trip to Gythe. Maybe not just circumstances had changed. Maybe he had, too.

  Sam looked around at his friends as they prepared to infiltrate the fortress. Nalia, her dark hair gathered in a ponytail, her eyes blue like a summer sky and then pale green as grass in the fall as she turned her head slightly, her look serious and business-like.

  Rindu, his salt and pepper hair gathered likewise behind his head and cinched with a leather cord, his expression as emotionless as ever, as if he was just lounging around waiting for a bus.

  Ix, her short black hair moving slightly in the breeze, her hand unconsciously caressing the ring daggers strapped to her legs, looked at him and grinned like a child ready to engage in sporting contest. He nodded to her as her eyes locked on his.

  Torim Jet, the old master who Sam believed was insane the first time they met. His white hair was neatly held down with a cloth headband, a stark contrast to the wild, flyaway hair that flew behind him as he attacked Rindu at that first meeting. His eyes, intense as a hawk’s, seemed unfocused, his face reflecting deep thought. No doubt he was contemplating their coming encounter with Chetra Dal, a legend and idol for all the Zouyim, if it was the same man.

  Palusa Filk’s short silver hair danced as she shifted her gaze from Rindu to Torim Jet and over to Sam. When his eyes met hers, she smiled that pixie smile of hers, making him return the smile automatically. The diminutive Zouy always made Sam smile, but despite her bubbly nature, she was a skilled fighter, as the bruises she had given him could attest.

  Ru Wilkes, ever the professional, had at least three swords, two long knives, and several shorter knives strapped to his body. He gave Sam a firm nod, his hand moving slowly up like he wanted to salute, but didn’t complete the motion. Sam nodded back to the man.

  Regi was almost dancing from nervous energy. If there was one person Sam was worried about, it was her. Nalia had said she was an excellent warrior, but that was years ago. Had the woman practiced at all? He would try to keep an eye on her in case she got into trouble. She held her weapon easily, moved it as if it was part of her. That was a good sign, at least. She tossed her long blonde hair, loose but seeming to behave as if trained in its movement, and shifted her eyes to Sam as if she had felt his on her. The intensity of those blue eyes almost made him take a step back, but then they twinkled as she flashed that amazing smile at him, blew him a kiss, and giggled about it. Nalia’s elbow made him look to her just as she rolled her eyes.

  “Regi is nervous,” she whispered to him. “But she will be fine. Do not worry.”

  Finally, Sam looked to Emerius Dinn. The hunter had a new quiver on his back, designed to cover the entire expanse of his wide torso. It must have held more than fifty arrows. He also had a hip quiver bristling with more arrows. His long knives were hanging from his belt, too, just in case he used up his supply of projectiles. For added measure, he carried another great quiver. Sam raised an eyebrow at the man and he nodded so the mop of dark red locks bounced. He smiled, his green eyes flashing.

  “I’m prepared,” he said matter-of-factly.

  Sam guessed he was.

  The eight moved around the hill, and Sam caught his first look of the fortress itself. He took a breath to steady his nerves.

  Chetra Dal’s fortress was not like Whitehall. It wasn’t massive or nearly as formidable as the place Sam had infiltrated and now called home. Still, it was a fortress, another set of walls to breach, another group of enemies to get through. How he tired of this. How he wished for his simple life in Telani, not having to worry about killing or being killed.

  “I wish for that, too,” Nalia whispered to him. He hadn’t even realized he had spoken aloud. “We will complete this mission, and then perhaps we can have peace like that again here in Gythe.”

  He reached over and took her hand, bringing it up to his mouth to kiss it. “I hope so, Nal.”

  “…and I’ll teleport in so I can open the gates for the rest of you,” Ix was saying to the others.

  Sam only caught the end of it.

  “Wait,” he said, “What? If you’re going to teleport in to bypass the walls, why don’t we ju
st all go together?”

  “Teleporting the entire party is strenuous,” Ix answered. “I need to conserve my energy for the fight. Teleporting us all to the other side of the wall takes the same effort as going across Gythe. I can pop onto the other side of the wall, take out whatever sentries I find, and then open the gates for the rest of you.”

  “It’s too dangerous,” Sam said. “If you run into more guards than you can handle, they could overwhelm you.”

  The assassin glared at Sam. “Sam,” she said with a forced calm, as if she was explaining something to a particularly difficult child, “I am an assassin. Moving around unseen is what I do. Don’t treat me like I don’t know what I’m getting into. I have been doing exactly this for years.”

  “I know, but there is no reason for you to go alone. We’re a team. Let at least one of us go with you.”

  “No.”

  “Stop being unreasonable. Just let—”

  “Sam,” Nalia said, “let her go. She will not be seen unless she wants to be seen. She is very good.”

  Ix smiled at Nalia and then looked to Sam, nodding as if that settled it.

  “I don’t want you to face unreasonable danger,” he said, his voice pleading.

  “I know, and I appreciate it, but if someone goes with me, they may cause us to be seen. Alone, I will be invisible. Trust me, Sam. I know what I’m doing.”

  Sam ran his fingers through his hair. Looking at the others, he blew out a breath. “Fine. Be careful, though. I don’t want to lose anyone today.”

  “Aww,” she teased, “I didn’t know you cared so much. Be ready. I’ll open the gate to let you in.” She blew a kiss to him and disappeared. Sam felt his face redden.

  It wasn’t more than a few minutes later that they heard the crossbar being removed, and then the door on the right swung open a few feet. A black-sleeved arm extended out of the opening and waved them in.

  The party hurried through the gates. Sam watched the walls for any sentries, but didn’t see so much as a bird. As he came through the door, he saw five bodies in a pile along the inside the fortress. A flutter of movement caught his eye, and he turned just in time to see Ix appear behind a human soldier. She used one hand to pull his head back with a handful of hair as she drew one of the blades of her ring dagger across his throat. His eyes went wide and he struggled for a moment before his lids drifted closed and his movement slowed and then stopped. Ix and the body both disappeared, only to appear almost instantly next to the pile of bodies. She dropped the new one on top of the others.

  Six now.

  The assassin cleaned her weapon on the clothing of the man she killed last.

  “Let’s get to one of the buildings so we’re not in the open like this,” she said. You would never know from her demeanor that she had killed and stacked a half dozen people.

  Sam nodded mutely and followed her and the others, scanning the courtyard and the walls. He saw nothing.

  The building Ix led them to seemed to be an auxiliary building attached to the main keep building. They opened the nondescript wooden door and dashed inside. Ix was last in, making a final sweep of the surrounding area to ensure they hadn’t been spotted. She closed the door and faced the others. Sam had already created a ball of light on the tip of his staff, and Rindu waved at a torch in the wall sconce. It flared to life.

  It was a simple room, more of a hallway, with crude wooden furniture. Sam couldn’t guess what it was used for. It didn’t really matter.

  “Okay,” Ix said, “that was easy enough. There should have been many more sentries out there. I think they’re on a skeleton crew. I haven’t seen any of the mutant creatures, but that’s probably because they’re too unpredictable to use as guards. I’m sure they have some here.” She looked down the short hallway that ended in another door. “I guess there’s only one way to go right now.”

  Sam started toward the portal, staff held aloft. “What I wouldn’t do for Skitter and his ability to let me see through his eyes right now. He’s been busy with finalizing the new government, though. I suppose we’ll have to do it the old fashioned way, open the door and try not to be too surprised by what we find.” He chuckled, but no one else seemed to find it funny.

  Sam swallowed and put his hand on the door latch. Looking back at his friends, he pulled the door slowly open and peered into the hallway beyond. Four feet in front of him, a stone wall stared back at him. He angled his view slightly to look left and saw the corridor stretch out for as far as he could see, curving until he could only view the wall on his side of the hall. There were other doors in the hallway, but no people.

  Sam poked his head out of the doorway enough to look to the right and saw that the hall was identical to his view of the left. He pulled his head back in and closed the door again.

  “It seems like the main hallway surrounding the keep. I think it goes in a circle. There are doorways on this side, spaced far apart, giving me the impression that these little entry rooms are arrayed like spokes on a wheel. On the other side of the corridor, there are doors also. I guess we have to go through one of those. I didn’t see anyone, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t patrols.”

  “Are there markings or anything to distinguish the doors, one from another?” Rindu asked.

  “No. They all look the same. At least, the ones I could see did.”

  “If the corridor truly goes all the way around the keep,” Torim Jet said, “then it will not matter greatly which of the doors we take. They will all lead to the center. The choice will become more important as we near the middle, unless the area we are looking for, the area in which the one who calls himself Chetra Dal resides, is in the center itself.”

  “Yes,” Rindu agreed. “That is reasonable.”

  “Okay then,” Sam said. “Let’s take the first door we come to and we’ll see what we find. The keep isn’t nearly as big as Whitehall, but it’s not small, either. If the rooms and corridors are the same size as the one we’re in, we have probably ten layers to get through to reach the center. Maybe more.”

  The rest agreed and Sam eased the door open again, repeating his cautious looks down both sides of the hallway. Nodding, he stepped out into the corridor while letting the light on his staff go out. The flickering torchlight from the wall torches made the clash of shadows dance and dart around him. Walking briskly to the closest door on the other side of the hall, he put his hand on the latch and waited for the others to join him.

  Chapter 38

  Danaba Kemp rubbed at his eyes and then blinked them rapidly, trying to focus on the papers in front of him. He sat very still for a moment, then he slammed his fist onto the table, making the inkwell jump and almost spilling the mug of cider resting there. The three other people in the room started and looked at him.

  “Damn it!” he said to the report in front of him. “We lost another twelve in that last attack? How is that possible? We’re behind fifty foot walls made out of magic stone, for pantor’s sake.”

  Chisin Ling was to his right, the closest to him of the others in the room. She hesitated as if she wasn’t sure if the question was rhetorical, then answered. “They have thousands out there. They don’t mind having them swarm the walls. If half of them die, it doesn’t seem to matter.”

  “And half of them usually do die,” Dr. Walt added. “It’s dreadfully nasty business. Our forces are doing a smashing job, but there are just too many attackers.”

  “Don’t forget the flying creatures,” Nicole said. “I think that’s the biggest problem. Without them, they wouldn’t be nearly as successful.”

  “True,” Chisin said. “Those damn bird things fly in and try to open the gates. Or they carry others and drop them off to fight us on our side of the walls.”

  Danaba glared at the captain, but didn’t say anything.

  “Perhaps if you got some sleep,” Dr. Walt said, “things wouldn’t seem so grim. You have to sleep, Danaba. You’ve been up for, what, forty hours or so? You can’t go on like t
his.”

  The general put his head in his hands and let out a long breath. “I know, I know. The men aren’t getting much more sleep than that, either. We have so few. Even rotating them out so that some can sleep a few hours here and there isn’t working. Those damn mutants attack constantly. It’s all we can do to keep them from getting into the keep. If they get past the walls, we’re done for. We can’t stand up to their numbers in conventional combat. Even using rocks, oil, and arrows, we just can’t kill all of them that attack.”

  “Sir,” Chisin Ling said, “if you would let my special troops have a chance. We could disrupt their plans, take the control from them. If they are too busy trying to protect themselves from us, they’re less likely to organize waves of attacks on the wall.”

  “It’s sound reasoning, Danaba,” Dr. Walt said. “They can attack at their leisure because they are safe in their camp. If something they didn’t expect, didn’t understand, happened, it could give us the time we need to come up with a better strategy. It could give us time to sleep so we’re not walking around befuddled from fatigue.”

  “In our world, special forces play a big part in warfare,” Nicole said. “Many times, their work is what turns the tide of battles, even the wars themselves.”

  Danaba looked at Chisin Ling. She was impressive, he had to admit. Tall, muscular, and one of the most skilled combatants he’d ever seen. She had been working with her soldiers on all types of clandestine operations. The assassin Ix had been coaching her, and Sam, Rindu, the hunter Emerius, and Nalia had been helping too when they could. He wasn’t sure exactly what she had been doing, but maybe it was time to let her see if she could do anything useful.

  “Fine,” he said. “I want a full briefing of what you are going to do, with a complete schedule. When do you plan on doing whatever it is you want to do?”

  “Tonight,” the woman said, a wide smile breaking her face almost in two. “I have everything planned. You won’t be disappointed, sir. I guarantee.”