by Amy Hopkins
Tamara shook her head, needles clacking angrily. Even Angelica, who doted on the boys and was responsible for their entitled attitudes, had been embarrassed at their loud tantrums and refusal to help.
Remembering the scene, she smothered her grin. Bitch’s oath! If Angelica ever finds out I was the one who switched their asses she’ll string me up by the toenails.
Tamara was pretty sure the entire town knew—after all, no one else in Tahn knew more than rudimentary physical magic. None of the townspeople had ratted her out though, and the boys were now mostly behaved.
“Oh, Charles,” Tamara murmured, fingering the locket she wore around her neck.
It wasn’t that she missed her husband. Far from it; in fact, she’d hated the bastard. His memory had spurred her to take control of her life after he’d died. After a lifetime of being told she was useless and pathetic, she wore his picture as a reminder to always prove him wrong.
She slipped the locket back under her dress. “If only you could see me now.”
CHAPTER SIX
Marcus carefully stepped out onto the fat branch. It swayed a little under his weight, but was thick enough to hide him if one of the twenty or so remnant below happened to glance upward.
Hold back, Julianne sent. Garrett isn’t in position yet.
What? Marcus scowled. What the hell has he been doing?
He needed something to eat. Julianne’s thoughts came across dryly. His damned stomach was growling so loud it was about to give us away.
Tell him to hurry up, Marcus shot back. I can’t wait up here forever.
Nearly ready. Julianne quickly touched Polly’s mind as she watched Garrett sidle past two remnant basking in the dappled sunlight. He must be almost on the other side, now, Julianne thought. Just a little more and we can…
Garrett froze, and she jumped to his mind, knowing that despite his discomfort at mental visitors he would understand.
They had found the remnant band entirely by chance. They had been camped on a road near the path Julianne had elected to take. The group could have slipped by without being seen, but that would leave the remnant free to ravage the countryside.
The team had planned to surround the small horde and pick off the few on the edges, then deal with the rest.
Their plan depended on silently removing as many remnant as possible before they were discovered. They all knew they would need to work fast, so Garrett’s sudden halt must mean something was wrong.
Julianne sank into his mind with a muttered phrase, taking in his view and feelings. His heart rate was elevated and his ears were straining for something. Sweat trickled down his back, running between—ok, pulling back now, Julianne thought with a grimace. She concentrated on his mind.
It was over there, Garrett thought, unaware he had a mental passenger. Fuck me, maybe t’was me eyes playin’ tricks…
Then he saw it again—a flicker of red between the thick tree trunks.
Skrim, Julianne sent urgently to the others. She felt Garrett flinch as he too got the warning.
Before Julianne could sense what triggered it, he whirled to one side and hugged a tree. At the same time, the remnant camp exploded into action.
The Skrim launched into the swarm of remnant, darting to and fro with frightening speed. It stabbed one remnant in the throat with a long claw and it flung itself into the air to land on the back of another.
The Skrim was unfamiliar—standing knee-high, its front legs sported long needle-like claws that clacked as it ran but formed a strong dagger when clenched tightly. Back legs of insectoid appearance dwarfed the tiny body. They were strong and pliant, giving the animal frightening speed.
It’s too fast, Julianne sent as it sprang again, stabbing a remnant eyeball three times before moving on.
The remnant ran to and fro as they tried to catch their wickedly fast attacker. It dodged and wove, dealing sharp slices as it avoided their clumsy weapons.
Still connected to Garrett’s mind, Julianne felt his muscles bunch in anticipation.
Stop. This is not our fight. The Skrim doesn’t know we are here. We watch and learn. Julianne felt a rush of disappointment flood Garrett’s mind, followed by resignation. Once she was sure he would obey she slipped out.
The Skrim was fast and wielded a sharp enough weapon, but it was smaller than its foes. It left two remnant standing from misplaced stabs and faced enemy numbers that were probably greater than it could surmount on its own.
A club thrust upward as the Skrim jumped again. It clipped a leg and the beast tumbled to the ground.
The remnant screeched and howled, jostling each other as they tried to pile onto the fallen Skrim. It jumped again, this time clumsily, and almost missed its target. It buried one claw in a remnant’s shoulder and quickly swung behind it as the remnant tried to grab the little beast.
The Skrim plunged a claw into the base of the remnant’s skull and the thing collapsed, convulsing as the rest of the horde snarled and snapped, but kept their distance.
Julianne waited for the inevitable death…but it didn’t come. The remnant fell still a moment, then its eyes snapped open.
Instead of the deep-red glow the damaged nanocytes bestowed, this remnant’s eyes were a brighter and somehow more violent shade.
The remnant lurched to its feet awkwardly and twisted its head toward the horde.
As one, the horde screamed and descended on their fellow remnant. They ripped its limbs off as it struggled—not to escape or fend off the attacks, but to claw faces and sink chipped teeth into remnant flesh.
Julianne held her breath, waiting to see the outcome of the vicious battle. She blew it out slowly when the fighting ceased and the five remaining remnant pulled themselves away from the carnage.
“Find the bug,” the tallest grunted. “Squash it. Make sure it is dead.”
He stomped over to the still-smoldering fire and grabbed a black haunch of meat, tearing a chunk off with his teeth.
Three remnant rummaged amongst the bodies but one hung back, watching. It twisted its head to look at the chief and Julianne pressed her hand to her mouth to stifle a gasp.
The Skrim clung to the back of its neck, one claw firmly embedded in the base of the remnant’s skull.
With a smirk the remnant bent and searched its fallen comrades, pulling back to reveal a knife. The blade was rusted and a little bent, but it was long and sturdy.
Biting her lip hard, Julianne closed her eyes for just a moment. You can’t warn them, she reminded herself. They’ll kill you as soon as you speak. It felt strange to feel the urge to save a beast from death mere minutes after she’d intended to kill it herself.
The Skrim-controlled remnant pounced, stabbing one remnant through the guts and whacking another in the ankle, taking off a chunk of skin and sending the beast to the ground screaming.
The chief turned around too late to save the last of his band, but strode over with his weapon raised high.
His opponent crouched low, then with impossible power it leapt furiously forward. The two remnant connected, grappling and clawing at each other, too closely engaged for weapons to be effective.
Julianne readied her staff. No matter how this turned out the survivor would not last long—not if she had anything to say about it.
The Skrim flashed into view as the remnant rolled, claw still firmly inserted into a now-bloodied skull.
Try to leave the remnant alive, Julianne sent.
Alive? Marcus thought back. Are you sure about that?
Julianne sent him the image of a human, eyes red, Skrim on its neck. We need to know how they work, she told him. Just in case.
She felt the punch to Marcus’s gut at the idea of Skrima controlling humans but was reassured by the flood of conviction that followed it. She had no doubt she would get her remnant alive and kicking, the Skrim ready to be torn away and examined.
The chief grunted and rolled away, his bleeding chest wound giving some clues as to what had happened. The S
krim-controlled remnant clambered to its feet with a small bloodied blade in one hand.
Julianne readied herself to attack. Before she could move, though, a figure burst from the trees across the camp, screaming a war cry, axe blade glittering in the morning light.
“COME HERE, YE SCARY WEE SHITE!” Garrett screamed.
The remnant shot across the space between them. Its legs moved in an odd gait as it ran, since it was being controlled by something not used to human proportions. It scooped up a spear along the way, not breaking its stride.
Julianne snorted and stepped into the open. Marcus joined her a moment later.
“You think he can take it?” Marcus asked over the clamor of Garrett’s continued yelling.
Julianne eyed the rearick, who had already taken off the remnant’s hand. “No. If we don’t help, that remnant doesn’t stand a chance.”
Marcus aimed his rifle and edged closer and Julianne ran forward with her staff raised. Polly and Danil dropped from the trees above to land behind Garrett.
The rearick twisted away from a clumsy stab and the Skrim screeched, the first sound they’d heard it make.
Julianne slowed as she approached, waiting for the perfect moment. Danil saw her and nodded.
“Garrett! Tower plunge!” Danil called tersely.
“Why the fuck would—oh!” Garrett caught sight of Julianne lining up a swing and turned his back on the beast.
Danil dropped to one knee and thrust out both arms, hands locked together. Polly aimed a listless stab at the remnant, more to distract it than to try to actually hurt it.
Garrett jumped, one foot landing on Danil’s interlocked hands. The other foot touched Danil’s shoulder as the mystic stood and thrust the rearick upward.
The joint forces of Danil’s push and his own strong jump shot Garrett higher than would otherwise have been possible.
The remnant ogled the flying rearick. The Skrim, unable to anticipate the effect of the movement on the foreign life form, squirmed as the movement squashed it between the remnant’s head and back.
When the remnant’s head snapped forward, so did Julianne’s staff. The Skrim caught the full force of the sharp blow and flew into the trees. Danil and Polly shot after it.
The remnant staggered and fell to one knee. It turned its head and snarled at her, eyes the dull deep-red of a regular remnant again.
“You’re free?" she asked it.
The remnant spat. “Free to die.”
Shrugging, Julianne nodded. “Sorry.”
The remnant didn't move when she pulled a dagger from her belt, nor did it flinch when she stepped forward and placed the blade against its throat.
Despite the strange color of the remnant's eyes, it looked almost human. A grotty unwashed disease-ridden human, but human nonetheless. When she flicked the blade across the beast's throat, it crumpled to the ground and she spared it a moment of silence.
A crashing amongst the trees nearby alerted her to Garrett's return.
"Ye fucking wee roach, try ta run from me, will ye?" Garrett held the Skrim aloft, far enough away that the outstretched claws couldn't scratch him.
"I think it's been injured," Danil said. "But it still made us run after it."
"Give me a look," Julianne said. She stepped up to the creature, narrowly avoiding a swipe. The tiny beast hissed, whined, and screeched when she narrowed her eyes and called her magic.
Julianne muttered a spell and reached toward the tiny alien beast. A shield of static protected its mind, but she thought she might be able to press through if she tried hard enough. Even without breaking the shield stray thoughts and sensations slipped through, letting her see brief flashes of the Skrim's trip through the rift and its bewildering arrival on Irth.
Julianne couldn't see enough to guess where the rift might be—just a crumbled wall covered in plant growth, and damp with mold. It didn't look familiar, but Julianne wasn't surprised. If the portal had been anywhere people were likely to be, she was sure that rumors would have spread by now.
"Kill it," she said flatly.
Garrett grinned. "My pleasure." He grabbed the Skrim's head and gave it a quick twist, nodding in a satisfied manner at the crunch and dropping the lifeless body to the ground.
Danil kicked it. "What did it do to the remnant? It was like mind control, but he was doing it through these." Danil used the tip of his dagger to point at the long needle-like claws.
Julianne nodded. "We know they're connected to the nanocytes that give us magic; that's the same technology that created the remnant. And we know they have some form of mental magic. Well, I guess we can’t really call it magic anymore."
CHAPTER SEVEN
Marcus was kicking through some of the debris on the ground and Garrett went over to see what he was doing.
"Lookin’ ta see if they left ye a snack?" the rearick asked.
Marcus snorted and opened his mouth to make a comment about Garrett's cooking. Guessing what the soldier was about to discuss, Garrett waved his hands.
"Don't even say what yer thinkin’. I don't want ta get me arse handed ta me by Julianne. Again." Garrett knelt to pick something out of the rubbish at their feet. "Och, would ye look at that!"
"Is that a tiny screwdriver?" Marcus asked.
Garrett squealed in delight. "Aye, it is. Bette lost hers a few months ago and hasn't been able ta find one since."
"You'll be popular when you get home then," Marcus said. "If you're lucky, you might even get lucky."
Garrett let out a peal of laughter. "Lad, I don't need ta get lucky ta get lucky. I just have ta drop me pants."
Marcus winced. "Can we leave out the visuals?"
"Are you two finished picking through the remnant’s trash?" Danil called as he wandered over to the two men. "Once Julianne has finished dissecting our dinner she wants to move on."
Garrett's eyes bulged. "Yer jokin’, right? She's not really goin’ ta feed us a Skrim fer dinner?"
Danil laughed. "Only if you keep causing trouble."
Garrett stuck his tongue out at the mystic. He was interrupted before he could come up with a witty response that wouldn't restart the age-old arguments about their unrefined pallets.
"Incoming!" Polly yelled. "Remnant horde headed this way!"
Garrett sighed and yanked his axe free from his belt. He hadn't even had a chance to clean it properly from the last fight. "Here we go again."
What Polly had neglected to mention was that the horde was already upon them, since the tiny campsite was swamped by screaming, howling beasts seconds later. They poured into the clearing and came to a halt, stumbling over each other when they saw the dead Skrim lying on a flat stone, separated at the joints and entirely dead.
One of the remnant at the front moaned. "They are cursed! The beasts have got the humans!"
The remnant horde snapped and snarled but didn't come any closer.
"What are they saying?" Garrett asked Marcus out of the corner of his mouth.
"I think they think we're being controlled by the Skrima." Marcus rubbed his mouth, trying to hide a smile of delight at the idea that remnant might be afraid of him. "They don't seem very eager to attack us, do they?"
Garrett shook his head sadly. "What a bunch o’ pussies. Takes all the fun outta killin’ them when you find out they're as scared as wee mice in a barn full o’ cats."
Marcus looked at him skeptically. "I hope that doesn't mean you'll refuse to fight them."
Garrett snorted. "Not on yer life. As if I'd let ye take all the fun."
Marcus cocked his rifle. "Shall we go?"
In one fluid movement, the two men threw themselves into the confused and somewhat frightened rabble of remnant. It only took the enemy a few moments to realize that neither man had an alien passenger.
Garrett slammed his axe into the face of one remnant before he had the chance to raise the alarm, but even as he swung around and clobbered another over the head cries went out to rally their brothers to the fig
ht.
"They just human scum!" the remnant screamed. "Wipe them out! Wipe them out and offer their bodies to the beasts."
Marcus withdrew his sword from a soft belly and spared a minute to turn to Garrett.
"Offer us to the beasts?" he asked. "Have they forgotten they are the beasts?"
He ducked and spun, slicing a nearby foot from the leg it had been attached to.
"Sell-out bastards," Garrett muttered as he sank his axe into a nearby skull. He squinted but didn't try to dodge the spray of blood that shot toward his face. "I can't believe the wee babies are so afraid of a few wee beasts that they would consider offerin’ us up as tribute."
Marcus stopped for a moment to wipe the smear of blood from his face. "It's not like they've ever shown any loyalty. Even when they have a chief, they're just as likely to tear his head off as they are to follow him."
"That's different," Garrett said, taking a minute to catch his breath. He rested the head of his axe on the ground and used the handle to prop himself up. He heaved three deep breaths, then picked the weapon up again just in time to take off the arm of a remnant who slashed at him with a dagger. "Takin’ someone's head off is not the same as layin’ gifts at their feet and beggin’ them not ta kill ye. I know which one I respect."
A quick look around showed that more than half the remnant now lay dead and Garrett and Marcus exchanged a glance.
"I'll take the left half," Marcus said. "You take the right."
Garrett gave a quick nod and grinned. He lunged away from Marcus into a group squabbling over who would kill the short bearded man.
When Marcus and Garrett split up Polly rolled her eyes. Oh, sure, either man would probably do fine on his own, but there was safety in numbers. She didn't understand this macho need to prove oneself by how many kills they could make in the shortest amount of time.
