Siege Tactics (Spells, Swords, & Stealth Book 4)

by Drew Hayes

  The half-elf’s eyes widened at that revelation. No wonder they were being sticklers about names. With a shallow bow, never letting her eyes leave the blade, Gelthorn introduced herself. “I am called Gelthorn, warrior of the forest.”

  “Chalara,” the sorceress added, keeping her class to herself.

  “I’m known as Wimberly, and if possible, I’d like to take a closer look at this.” Their gnome was practically crawling into the open hole on the automaton’s neck as she strained to see its inner workings. “I bet there are techniques and builds in here that haven’t been seen for centuries.”

  The guard, Hoit, paid her little mind as his eyes turned to Timanuel. “Some knowledge is lost for good reason, but given our circumstances, that may be permissible. First, one of you still needs introduction.”

  When Timanuel bowed, he did so deeply, putting his eyes to the ground and exposing the back of his neck. It was a gesture that showed the utmost trust and respect, and a risky one to perform before a person they didn’t know who held a sword the size of this one. “I am Timanuel, paladin of Longinus, and if you are in need, then I shall give all I can to help.”

  At his words, the expressions on every guards’ faces relaxed. “You should have gone first,” Hoit told him. “No paladin would travel with priests of Kalzidar, and Longinus would never permit you to mingle with that rabble without bringing it to your attention.”

  “How do you know he’s telling the truth?” Chalara asked. That earned her a few dirty looks from the party, which she easily shrugged off. “What? He’s taking us at our word while the city is burning. I’m curious about why.”

  “Normally, I would greatly enjoy detailing for you the various wards and enchantments throughout Lumal, including the ones used by its guards. As things stand, you’ll just have to trust me that we would know if you lied.” Hoit sheathed his blade, tucking the head bag onto his belt. “Travelers, I thank you for your aid, and apologize for my brusqueness. Were it possible, I would send you back through whatever portal you used to enter; however, by now, it will have closed. Our exit portals are under attack, some have already fallen, but last I checked, not all of them were down. I will do my best to guide you toward one, though I can make no promises toward your safety or the ability to leave.”

  “We can help fight,” Timanuel volunteered. That response earned a harsh chuckle and a sad shake of the head from Hoit.

  “Forgive me, paladin, I know your heart is in the right place, yet this fight is not for you. A noble spirit would perhaps buy you one extra second of life before you were torn easily apart.”

  Hoit paused to look them over once more, then nodded to his guards. “Drag the body along while we move. Let the gadgeteer see what she can see. At this point, any potential help is welcomed. While they prepare, I will do my best to fill you in on the situation. Be forewarned, there are many answers I do not yet have. We are reacting as best we can to the threat; not all information has yet been circulated.”

  With a shared looked between everyone except Wimberly, who was still trying to dive into the automaton, Timanuel signaled his understanding. “We know how hectic these things can get.”

  Ignoring the shared look, Hoit began to explain. “The Vault of Sealed Magics was breached moments after sunset. We do not yet know how, but according to the few reports we’ve received, four priests of Kalzidar managed to infiltrate Lumal. Their power is incredible, and it seems they were purposefully selected for the task. I can’t imagine how they knew their way around so many wards and defenses, but the results prove they somehow managed. It is not yet fully known how much they managed to take; all we have confirmed to be missing so far is the Helm of Ignosa and one of the last remaining Chronoglasses. Even that we only know because of the army of automatons wrecking the city and the temporal distortion beyond our borders.”

  “Hang on. The sun just went down a little while ago. You’re telling me someone did all of this in, what, an hour?” Timanuel thought back to the flames and destruction he’d seen, gulping as he wondered what a force like that could do to cities without huge armies of guards in obviously enchanted armor.

  Chalara tapped him on the shoulder. “They mentioned a Chronoglass. Those are legendary artifacts made by an archmage who hated wasting all his time on paperwork. Higher-level magic can do things like slow or stop time for an individual, but that limits interaction with the world, so he decided to see if there was a way to do it on a larger scale. The Chronoglass was that solution; it can shift the flow of time for an entire geographic area, meaning he turned it on in his office and could spend ten hours working, whereas only an hour would pass outside the walls.”

  The look of shock on Timanuel’s face was so apparent, even Hoit took note and decided to step in. “She is correct, but such a distortion is impossible when the entire city is encompassed in its field. While time is moving faster for us than it is in the outside world, to know to what extent would require a skilled caster to determine.”

  “The army, I can see, but why mess with the flow of…” Chalara trailed off, understanding kicking in. “Because it means help will take that much longer to arrive. Even if the displacement is only two-to-one, that means an hour of destruction here is an thirty minutes out there, doubling the time it will take for any reinforcements to arrive.”

  “Again, you are correct, but currently that is not our concern,” Hoit told her. “My last orders were clear: as it stands, we cannot hold against the army of Ignosa. Specialists have been dispatched to deal with Kalzidar’s servants and recover the helm that controls these metal monstrosities. Until they succeed, the Lumal guard will assist in the evacuation of all citizens and travelers alike.”

  Hoit bowed to them, using the same vulnerable style that Timanuel had. “I am sorry for the timing of your trip. If it survives, I hope you will one day return to Lumal. Today, we must focus on trying to get you out of here. My men and I will do all we can to aid in your escape, but be warned, we are not strong enough to deal with these threats. Should one come for us, we will try to hold it back while you flee. Do not hesitate; do not try to lend us aid. Paladin, as the legal authority in this city, consider that a lawful order. Longinus teaches you to obey such missives, and as a combatant, I trust that he understands that there is no point in more dying here than necessary for a distraction. Your task is to escort these three, and any others you find, to the evacuation point. Do not deviate from it.”

  Harsh as the words seemed, Timanuel knew what Hoit was doing. Paladins couldn’t run from those in need without good reason, but by boxing him in with a task and the law, Hoit had effectively made it impossible for him to stay if they were attacked. He’d ensured the adventurers would have one more potential distraction to rely on, even if the guards were already dead.

  “Your orders are heard,” Timanuel replied. He was careful to acknowledge them without agreeing to anything. That decision would be made in the moment, based on what was right. Hoit had given him a choice, and Timanuel intended to make the most of it.

  “Good. Then ready yourselves to move swiftly.” Hoit motioned to the other guards, who hefted the automaton body with Wimberly still on top, digging through every piece she could grab. “And remember, these are not enemies you defeat. They are the ones you pray dearly to escape from, and nothing more.”

  Chalara couldn’t help but ask, though the answer was evident in Lumal’s state. “Isn’t there someone here who can fight these things?”

  “Several, all of whom are doing so, but people do not call these automatons Ignosa’s Unfeeling Army without reason. There are too many to stop, so instead, our most powerful fighters are protecting key points, such as the exit portals.” He stopped, looking down a new hallway, toward the unknown. “Supposedly, there is also an emergency force the Head of the Guard can call upon, but given that the Chronoglass is in play, I doubt that we can depend on them.”

  Hoit drew his greatsword once more, taking it carefully in his grip as they began to
move. “I’m afraid that, tonight, Lumal is on its own.”

  46.

  Between the already closing wound in her torso and the ache in her skull, Gabrielle was reasonably sure that if she weren’t already one of the undead, those attacks would have turned her into the real dead. As the figures overhead closed in, Gabrielle felt a familiar sensation rising in her chest. It wasn’t fear, she realized with a sharp sliver of surprise. At some point, Gabrielle had found peace with the truth that she might die on this journey, and while she was hardly eager to meet that end, it didn’t terrify her the way it had before adventuring. No, what was rising in Gabrielle didn’t want her to run. It wanted to fight, swing, maul, and eviscerate. Fury was burning inside her, begging to be let out.

  It was the same as that night in the goblin camp, watching her green friends being cut down by demons. She wasn’t angry that they’d hit her. No, Gabrielle was fuming because she finally grasped the truth of the fight: they were being played with. Now that the game was done, this priestess was going to pick them off, one at a time, until it was over.

  Well, fuck that.

  Gabrielle’s grip on her axe tightened. She’d been holding back all this time out of fear, uncertain of what her new condition truly meant, of what wielding her axe properly might tear from her. But that minor concern was nothing in comparison to all of her friends being slowly murdered by plants. Perhaps using the axe’s true power would unmake her. Maybe it would kill the plants. It might not even activate anymore. The outcome was irrelevant, at least in regards to her decision. Any chance they had, they would need to take. It was the only hope of survival the party had. Time to quit being afraid and uncertain. Time to start remembering that her role was that of a barbarian.

  It was time to get angry.

  The rush of mana flowed in, Gabrielle could feel it acutely now, swelling her already heightened muscles, narrowing her focus down to the enemies who were reaching to finish her off. Prone, with two enemies right above her, was not the best position to start a fight from. Thankfully, an ice spell slammed into one of the twin plants, momentarily drawing their attention.

  With a glance, Gabrielle could see that Grumph was back on his feet, shaken, but not yet downed. That ring they’d tossed on him had probably helped keep his sternum from being crushed by the attack. Alive or not, the half-orc was visibly weakened, so Gabrielle didn’t wait to see if the twins would switch their targets. This was her godsdamned fight, and she wanted to hack the twins apart herself.

  Using more strength and grace than her living body would have been capable of—at this point in her training, anyway—Gabrielle flipped backwards and leapt to her feet, axe still in hand and at the ready. That got the twins’ attention once more, not that they would have needed to wait long for a more obvious interruption. Gabrielle slammed her axe’s head into the torso of the one on the right, yanking it back to reveal that she’d managed to cut impressively deep into its thick body, though the wound was healing, just as the mundane attacks had.

  That was expected; she just had to check. Last time she’d used her anger, there had been side effects. Now, she knew what her axe could do on its baseline. It was time to see if it could still chop magic. Mentally reaching out, she connected to the weapon and activated it. Before, when she used this power, it would injure her with every strike, trading her own health for the power to conquer the arcane. With what she was now, a single blow might suck the spark of life from her animated corpse. Fully aware that was possible, she’d have to make this strike count for all it was worth.

  Rearing back, the axe already brimming with power, Gabrielle slammed the weapon down right into the left twin’s chest, cleaving into the spot where a heart would be.

  The world slowed, all sound and movement grinding to a halt. Even she was frozen, locked in position, her axe in the midst of burying itself into the left twin’s body. Her mind cleared, the fog of fury momentarily lifting, yet not dissipating. This was new. Normally, when she drew on the axe’s power, all she heard was the voice—dark and foreboding, from somewhere deep within the axe. It had always been unsettling, yet she’d never seen anything quite like this before.

  —You are unfit to wield.—

  Wow. In comparison, this opening made the previous demands for blood and life seem positively civil. Gabrielle formed the words firmly in her mind, just as she would if she were still capable of moving her mouth. “Sorry, asshole, did you want me do more drills or something?”

  —You have no life to offer. You draw from my power to sustain what little remains in your altered body. The price must be paid.—

  Okay, that part made some sense, she had to admit. It was common knowledge that magic always came with a price, be it a simple cost of mana or something more severe, like the wounds she had endured. Trying to circumvent that simple fact was often how true abominations were made. Still, it didn’t mean they were dead in the water quite yet.

  “Why does it have to be my life? I’ve been killing things with this axe just fine to keep myself going. What if I fed you the blood of others?”

  —To wield that power demands a sacrifice. The pain of others is no true sacrifice.—

  “No… but in a way, that is my life, my blood, now.” Gabrielle was realizing the loophole even as she spoke, building the road while the carriage careened down it. “I need that power to live. So using it for this is me making a sacrifice. I’m putting myself at greater risk in order to wield that power, and I’m still spending life to do it. The life of others, and of myself. If anything, I’m paying double.”

  Bargaining with a magical item was not necessarily the smartest, sanest method to undertake, but Gabrielle needed this. Even with her undead strength and anger, she could only dent these monsters. Cutting through the magic that sustained them was possibly her only chance to turn the tide of this battle. This had to work; the others were counting on her.

  It was impossible to know how long she waited for a response; with time frozen from her perspective, there was no way to measure the passing of moments. When the voice did return, Gabrielle could have sworn there was something new—a very small drop of humor, perhaps even fondness, in the tone.

  —You seek to distort the rules to serve your own ends. My master would have approved. The bargain is accepted. Take care that you use the power carefully. Should you exhaust the supply of stolen life, your body will fall as well, and even I do not know whether it will rise again.—

  Before she had a chance to consider what that meant, time was back in motion. Her axe bit deep into the torso of the plant monster, going farther than her attack on the right twin had with comparable ease. As it cut, the axe destroyed everything nearby, turning the leaves and branches to dust. It didn’t burn at them, the way divine magic could; her weapon simply unmade the creature as it moved.

  The attack went completely through the plant monster, which fell limply to the ground as the enchantment giving it motion was sundered. In a single blow, Gabrielle had reduced the enemy force, the first of her party to land a kill. The move was so unexpected that the entire battlefield, save for the ravisher and Eric, paused in shock. It was a good thing, because the wave of exhaustion that hit Gabrielle a second later would have left her deeply vulnerable.

  Powerful though the blow had been, using it had considerably drained the pent-up life energy inside the axe. One more like that, and she would be down, potentially for good. Worse, since the plants had no blood to give, she’d recovered nothing from the kill. Wait: that wasn’t entirely true, she realized. There was a new energy flowing into her, being sucked inside along with the mana that sustained her fury. Not life, but not as far off as she might have expected. It felt like mana, only slightly altered.

  With a start, Gabrielle realized that she had absorbed a small portion of the magic that had been sustaining the spell. What use that had, if any, was a complete mystery. For at the moment, she was happy enough to discover that it wasn’t directly harmful.

  The unho
ly shriek that pierced the battlefield wasn’t magical, but it unnerved all who heard it just the same. Standing in her flora fortress, the priestess looked as though she was about to rip her way out. Tears ran down her face as she stared at the pile of dust that had once been one of her minions. It was a substantially more intense reaction than Gabrielle had expected to see from a follower of Kalzidar, especially when it was one of their disposable minions that had been felled.

  “Coran… you killed Coran.” Fingers shaking, the priestess gripped the outer edge of her fortress with her free hand, streams of blood pouring over the thorns puncturing her flesh. This woman wasn’t just cruel or unstable, she was completely mad. What tragedies had brought her to this point was anyone’s guess, but the pain in her eyes and the shape of these creatures, sized as though they were a family, offered a not so subtle hint. “What’s Luran going to do without her twin? You weren’t supposed to be able to hurt any of them.”

  “Battles are full of surprises,” Gabrielle shot back. Her guard was raised, ready for an attack from the remaining plant twin, apparently named Luran. Deep down, she cursed the wave of exhaustion that had momentarily weakened her. If she hadn’t needed to recover, she could have struck while the priestess was surprised. Not only would putting her down probably end the fight, but currently, Kalzidar’s follower was the only enemy within reach who could fuel her axe. If Gabrielle wanted another magic-cutting strike, she would have to pay for it with the priestess’s blood.

  “That they are.” The priestess’s eyes were locked on Gabrielle’s axe, no doubt trying to figure out if she could replicate the attack, although the mere fact that the barbarian hadn’t already done so with an enemy nearby weakened her ability to bluff. She hoped the one-hit kill would at least make the priestess hesitant. Unfortunately, despite the tears and the blood still freely flowing, a smile cut its way across the priestess’s face. Her bloody hand raised from the thorns, dipping into her robes to produce another magical item: a brooch with dark metal in the center. “The great Kalzidar warned me that you might hide some of your tricks, but in his wisdom, he prepared for such eventual—”