Some horses panicked and reared; others sidled and backed. Souda and Parahan were able to hold their mounts steady. Rosethorn’s horse did not even move. Jimut gripped the reins on Briar’s horse while another soldier held Evvy’s.
“They don’t smell them!” Briar called to Parahan. “The horses behind us, they’re calm — they can’t see them, hear them, can’t smell them! Cover your horses’ eyes!”
Evvy ignored everything after that. Using the quartzite stones, she flowed under the two monsters. They pressed on her power, making her feel dirty and small. She wriggled deeper in the earth and sped up. She wanted to see what was on the far side of the hill. Was it the imperial army, or just some mages trying to keep the Gyongxin forces here?
The ground over her head shook as the tiger and the horned lion jumped onto the road. They roared again, setting more grass ablaze. Some of her stones blackened and cracked. She passed under the hill’s crest and on to the flatlands past it. Weight pressed down on her, rock-crushing weight, as far ahead and to either side as she could sense with her power. It shifted slightly, back and forth. Some moved over Evvy as if it traveled toward the hill.
Swiftly she fled to her body, pulling her magic from the quartzite. Up she popped to resume her normal place within her skin. All around her the air boomed in her human ears with the gongs, the bells, and the deep, buzzing voices of Gyongxin mages. She opened her eyes. General Sayrugo’s eastern shamans now faced the horned lion and the giant tiger. Forming a line, they shuffled to and fro, striking gongs or bells and chanting. The noise made Evvy’s teeth hurt. It reminded her of the day other shamans had called two stone skeletons out of the cliff behind Garmashing. She wished those skeletons were here now.
The lion and tiger opened their mouths. They seemed to roar, but Evvy heard nothing. They were fading. Then they were gone.
Evvy’s head spun. She closed her eyes and breathed slowly through her nose. The weight on the far side of the hill — she had to tell someone about it. Only her stomach was angry, because of all the weight stamping on the stones as she had run her power through them. She opened her eyes and slid from the saddle, almost falling as Luvo’s weight dragged her down.
Rosethorn dismounted from her horse and ran to her. “Are you all right?” she asked. Swiftly she cut the silks that held Luvo’s sling to Evvy’s chest with her belt knife.
Evvy shook her head and turned aside so she wouldn’t splatter anyone. Then she vomited the little food and liquid she had swallowed that morning.
Rosethorn passed her a flask.
Evvy tipped her head back and poured a little bit of water into her mouth, rinsed, then spat. She wiped her mouth on her sleeve, then drank. “Sorry,” she told Rosethorn when she was sure she was done vomiting. “Sorry, Luvo. Rosethorn, we’ve reached the imperial army. They weigh tons. They’re crushing my stones over on the other side of the hill.”
Rosethorn reached over and patted her arm. “It could have been so much worse,” she said in an overly sympathetic way. “We could have made the wrong turn and fetched up in Namorn. Yes, we knew. The scouts brought the happy word to us.”
“I hate it when everything’s about to go to pieces and you’re all calm,” Evvy told her.
Rosethorn raised an eyebrow. “Would you like it better if things were about to go all to pieces and I turned into a ball of panic?”
Evvy wanted to tell Rosethorn she loved her, but she couldn’t, not among so many people. She stuck her tongue out at her instead.
The general beckoned for Rosethorn to come forward. Shamans from the western tribes joined the easterners ahead of even the flag bearers to form a line in front of the Gyongxin army. As Evvy watched, the shamans removed their shoes. Their helpers passed them flasks of tea. The shamans kept the flasks, tucking them into the front of their coats as the helpers sat cross-legged on the ground. From their packs they pulled out small drums or flutes.
Rosethorn came back at a trot. “The shamans say they will make it easier for us to survive going over the crest of that hill,” she explained as a helper began to strike a drum in a slow, rhythmic pattern. Other drummers and two flute players joined in, weaving their music with his. Rosethorn continued, “It’s something we can’t do, I assume, or they’d have asked us to assist. The general says we may be a little startled, but try not to make any sound.”
Evvy drew her amethyst from her alphabet. It was a good stone for calm. She turned the rough-cut crystal around in her fingers, drawing on the spells she had placed in the stone. Even with that magic, her hands shook.
The shamans bent to place sticks of incense in the ground in front of them. Thin trails of smoke rose through the air. Now the shamans danced, their feet shuffling in the dirt of the road. They dipped and turned, their movements snake-like and alien.
“Watch, Evvy,” Rosethorn whispered. “We may never see anything like this again. Lark is always telling me shamans can do things that mages can’t.”
Evvy clutched her amethyst so hard her fingers cramped. Shapes were forming in front of the mages. At first they were thin and almost see-through, like fine gray silk. Bit by bit they filled in. She saw a curved section of orange skin that slid around. There was a dark fang. When she saw hair like black flames, she covered her face. Rosethorn jabbed her with a sharp elbow, and Evvy dared to look again.
She wished she had not. Creatures not quite as gigantic as the tiger and the horned lion stood before them, but there were more of these. She recognized the four orange beings, with their flaming hair and ivory teeth and claws, from temple paintings. They each had six arms and hands in which they clutched weapons. With them stood six blue-skinned creatures with long, flowing, scarlet locks. They had long yellow claws on their hands and feet and full green lips. Each of them had four arms.
“I don’t see what good these things will do if the emperor’s mages can make bigger ones,” Evvy said as the creatures turned and glided up the hill. She glanced at Briar. He had turned the color of cheese as he stared at the shamans’ creations.
“The emperor’s spell monsters are built of wind, smoke, fear, and illusion,” Luvo told her as the many-limbed newcomers topped the crest. “Our friends are lesser gods, guardians from temple fortresses in western and southern Gyongxe. They carry the power of those places with them.”
Suddenly the great brutes let out shrieks that sent many of the soldiers behind them to their knees as they covered their ears. Evvy was proud that Briar hardly flinched. Perhaps she was too used to strange things by now, because she only took another gulp from her flask. The temple gods plunged down over the hill. The shamans and their helpers moved forward, up to the hilltop, still dancing and playing their music.
General Sayrugo gave the command to advance. Rosethorn and Briar helped Evvy wrap Luvo in scarves from her pack and tie him to her chest, then boosted the girl and her friend into the saddle before they mounted their own horses. Together with the army they rode on, keeping a watchful eye on the clouds as black and crimson lightnings flickered overhead.
As they crested the hill, round balls struck the ground and exploded with a roar: The enemy was using catapults to throw zayao bombs at the Gyongxin army. Evvy’s mare reared. Jimut rode between Evvy and Briar to grab the mare’s bridle and draw her back down to all four feet.
“I know it’s hard,” he told Evvy and Briar, “but these horses are used to zayao explosions. That’s why they were given to you. Now, ease your grip on the reins, Evvy. That makes her more nervous than anything else right now. Loosen your knees, too, before she bolts.”
“Sorry,” Evvy whispered. “I wish someone would loosen my knees.” She forced herself to relax.
She felt a vibration and realized that Luvo had begun a soft, inaudible hum. She was about to tell him she wasn’t a baby who needed to be sung to if she was going to relax, and changed her mind. It did help her manage the horse after all, and her mind was still alert.
“Thanks,” she told him instead.
They crested the hill.
Spread across the plain for as far north as she could see and for a painful distance east was the imperial army: a huge number of soldiers centered on a massive, stepped platform that had to be Weishu’s lookout tower and the place where he kept his best mages. Brigades of cavalry were lined up on the east and west flanks, prepared to force their attackers in to the soldiers at their center. Not only did brigades of infantry wait for the Gyongxin army there, but Evvy could see great crossbows and the kind of catapult that threw giant rocks and zayao bombs. Next to them, at the heart of the army, were archers, their crossbows raised.
Evvy fumbled through her alphabet and pulled out her clear quartz crystal. Holding it against her forehead, she used the spells she had placed on it to help her see flares of red where mages stood in the ranks. Each of the catapults had one, while the emperor’s platform blazed with them.
She continued to inspect the battlefield, trying to find some good news, some weakness. Where the army’s lines ended to the east, its horse camp began. She had never seen so many horses in her life. Her courage was shrinking by the moment.
She looked west. There at last was the great fortress city of Garmashing, safe for the moment behind its thick stone walls. Its temples, palaces, markets, homes, and plazas rose in level after level on its steep hillside, as if it boasted to would-be conquerors that here were treasures they could not touch. Its jagged walls climbed the rising landscape, concealing roads and gardens as they protected the buildings inside. With her crystal against her forehead, she could see the tops of those walls burning red with the presence of mages and the walls themselves red-streaked with magic. After spending her winter there, she had come to love it. The best part was the myriad tunnels that people used when the snows piled to the second story aboveground: It reminded Evvy of her old cave home in Chammur. She hoped the people who couldn’t fight were tucked safely away in those tunnels, out of reach of the zayao bombs and catapult stones.
Crowning the city’s hill was the God-King’s palace, its many gold turrets glinting in the sun. Behind it all soared the white-capped peaks of the Drimbakang Zugu. She knew the apparent closeness of the mountains was an illusion: The Tom Sho gorge with its limestone walls provided steep walls at the city’s rear.
The mountains themselves were cruel guardians with their trackless cliffs and canyons. Wolves, bears, and snow cats roamed freely on the slopes, together with antelope, sheep, and yaks. There were rumors of worse things. After what she had seen under Luvo’s care, Evvy knew they were not rumors. She was wishing for some of those creatures now, not just as magics conjured by mages who would get tired eventually. She wished all of the stone statues born in the gorge would come home to defend their birthplace.
Messengers galloped back down the line of the Gyongxin army, relaying orders to the soldiers behind the mages. Everyone advanced at a trot down the slope, spreading out as they went. They formed on either side of the still-dancing shamans, General Sayrugo, the twins, and their guards, arranging themselves in battle formation. Companies of archers placed themselves on either side of the general and her companions as zayao bombs struck the hillside. Mages among the Realms and Gyongxin soldiers began to work their own magic, shielding their soldiers against the deadly explosives.
Evvy was fixed on the sight of the lesser gods as they collided with the emperor’s soldiers. Bursts of red flared as imperial mages attacked the lesser gods; foot soldiers flew through the air as the Gyongxin creatures picked them up and flung them among their allies.
Suddenly Evvy heard the whicker of arrows in flight. She looked up, almost dropping her crystal. The imperial archers had loosed a deadly rain straight at the Gyongxin leaders.
Rosethorn and Briar also looked up. They did not so much as stretch out their hands. Suddenly crossbow bolts, sprouting twigs and leaves that slowed their flight, tumbled to the open ground between the armies.
The snap of ropes pulled Evvy’s eyes to boulders that arched into the air. She grabbed Luvo. “Can we do something? Please?” There was nothing she could do about the zayao balls, but the boulders were different.
Come with me. His voice boomed inside her skull.
She twined with him inside his magic. They rose above their bodies into the unpleasant, thin air. Evvy glanced down. Everyone seemed to be frozen. Even the green-leafed crossbow bolts had stopped where they fell. Five stone balls were above the Yanjingyi army; three were unmoving. Evvy and Luvo spread themselves wide to cover those, sinking deep into the limestone that made them.
Evvy knew a thing or two about limestone. While Luvo did something that made the stones tremble, she sorted through the bits of lesser material that formed them. She couldn’t touch the bits of coral. Coral wasn’t a true stone, but the remains of an animal, and immune to her magic. There were other minuscule sea animals that had gone hard like the coral. She ignored all of them. With each non-stone thing she thrust aside, the limestone cracked. Luvo’s trembling magic made the cracks grow and spread. Evvy made piles of bits of flint, jasper, and chalcedony, leaving gaps behind as she shifted each piece. Abruptly her body down below sneezed. She lost her concentration and separated from Luvo. She was back in her physical shell.
Small pebbles rattled as they bounced off the soldiers’ helms. Luvo was covered with gritty dust. So was she. Nearby she heard screams — human and horse. “What did we do?” she asked him.
“We broke three boulders in midair,” Luvo said. He sounded very satisfied with himself. “I wish we could have caught the other two. They damaged our army, but two stones did less harm than five would have done.”
“Luvo, can we take rocks apart before they throw them?” Evvy whispered.
“Put your hands on me,” he said quietly. “It works better with both of us.”
Evvy obeyed and left her body again.
The stones of the plain raced under them as Luvo drew her along, bound for the biggest rocks in one Yanjingyi catapult. It went quicker this time. They did not have to work inside moving boulders. Evvy simply ignored the fossil coral and bone, plucking the stones she recognized out of the limestone.
Luvo pulled water from someplace and turned it to ice in the cracks Evvy made. Evvy didn’t know where he got it until they rose above the heap of gravel that was the remains of the boulders ready for the catapult. Only then did she see shriveled bodies on the ground through Luvo’s vision. They wore the colors of Yanjingyi soldiers and, in the case of two of them, the black tunics and bead strings of mages. Luvo had taken the water from their flesh.
Serves them right, she thought savagely. They’re the enemy. I bet they would have tortured us if they could. I’m glad they’re dead.
There are other catapults here, Luvo said. Shall we deal with them? If we reduce the stones to nothing, these humans will have to go far to get others.
Yes, Evvy told him. Let’s do that. She was careful not to think about the people ready to load the massive stones into the catapult slings at their officers’ commands. She simply followed Luvo into the stones, removing the grains that held the boulder together so he could freeze water in the cracks she left behind. Everywhere around them soldiers and mages gasped for water and died without any idea of what killed them. Evvy did her best to ignore them. Each time she felt her hate weaken, she remembered the heap of cold dead outside Fort Sambachu. Now their ghosts had company. Wasn’t that a good thing?
BEFORE THE GATES OF GARMASHING, CAPITAL OF GYONGXE
In the front of the Gyongxin and Yanjingyi battle lines sergeants bellowed for archers to shoot. Just ahead, boulders smashed the Gyongxin army in two places, killing the horses and men that hadn’t been able to flee. Briar watched for imperial arrows; he knew Rosethorn did, too. He took a quick glance at Evvy. Seated on horseback, she clung to Luvo, her eyes closed. The youth trotted over and pinched her gently, with no response. He cursed softly, but there was nothing he could do, or dared to do.
“Luvo?” he whispered. “Luvo!”
The rock didn’t answer, nor did it look at him, if “look” it could be called when the creature had no eyes that could be seen. Briar thought Luvo turned his head knob just to make people feel better, not because he really needed to do so. Now Briar prodded Luvo, without effect.
Blasted bleat-brain, he scolded himself. You should have told them to do nothing without checking with you or Rosethorn! He took a breath, wondering if he should talk with Rosethorn or keep quiet, and coughed. His mouth tasted as if he’d walked through a dust cloud. Dust lay on his armor, too. He spat and drank from his flask.
Rosethorn was coughing. He ran to her and thrust his flask into her hand, watching anxiously as she drank.
“What targets should we go after when the enemy isn’t shooting?” he asked when she returned the flask to him.
“The catapults,” Rosethorn said firmly. “Plant them deep and grow them as high as you can.”
A soldier nearby heard. “They’ll be magicked,” he warned. “Written over with spells to prevent other mages from interfering.”
Rosethorn smiled at him. “But they won’t be spelled against us. We become part of the wood; we don’t try to work spells on it.”
“As you say,” the soldier answered, clearly not believing her. “I’m just here to run errands for you.”
“We could use more water,” Briar said. The man nodded and left. To Rosethorn, Briar said, “Will you handle catapults and I’ll take care of arrows?”
He did not have to ask her twice. She sat and placed her palms flat on the earth on either side of her. Briar sat cross-legged next to her and kept his eyes on the imperial forces. He could not hear their officers’ cries, but he saw the next volley of crossbow bolts arch into the air. He reached for them, tapping the memory of their lives as trees deep in the wood. He called those lives out, encouraging the bolts to sprout and leaf. They fought the metal arrow tip and thrust roots past the fletching, slowing the bolts’ flight and draining their deadly power as they dropped to the ground. He couldn’t reach all of them, but he reached a great many.
Battle Magic Page 32
