by L. E. Horn
A lot of unknowns, Lianndra thought.
Until they heard Drake’s group was safely away, Lianndra and the others would have to continue the deadly dance in the jungle. So far, things went well. They’d done a good job of keeping the units confused. The only problem was that the enemy surrounded them. Even if Michael’s team wanted to leave, at the moment they couldn’t. A big problem, one Michael worked on solving with explosives. They needed to solve it soon since the Fang became more organized as the units compared notes.
A faint rustle of displaced leaves announced Andrea’s arrival. “Incoming along the north trail, ETA ten minutes.”
“Pack it up,” Michael told the men. “Set these to control module three. I want to bury more where the creek bed forks.”
The men nodded and attached the remaining small explosives to their weapons harnesses. Michael gestured to Lianndra to take point while Andrea disappeared behind them.
As Lianndra swung and ran along the branches, she knew the game was almost up. The Fang units tightened their net, and she was sure they already suspected the larger group of rebels had divided into smaller segments. Their diversion tactics would only keep the reptilian aliens guessing for a little longer.
A subtle disturbance rustled ahead of her—small animals fleeing and all natural noise ceasing. Heart in her mouth, Lianndra accelerated. If they headed into danger, she needed enough lead time to warn Michael.
With a loud squawk, a winged reptile flew from the lower canopy. Lianndra skidded to a halt in a shower of bark and flattened herself against the trunk, pulling the Vloxx cape over her in a smooth motion.
She could see below her through a fold in the cape. A big Fang soldier looked toward her. He wasn’t on a trail but crouched in the foliage. For a split second, she thought he saw her, but he looked away.
He must have heard the bits of bark falling. She crouched high in the tree, but the undergrowth was a little thinner here. Thank goodness for the cape.
An obscure movement revealed another Farr moving through the underbrush. Lianndra’s heart raced. A commando unit hunting off trail—Michael and the men are heading straight for them.
She had to risk it. Holding the cape tight around her, she turned and raced along a thick branch, keeping her head down.
Below her a barked command signaled a Fang had seen something move. But as she dove into thicker greenery, no general alarm sounded. They couldn’t have been sure what they’d seen; animals could have explained the movement.
The commandos are too close to Michael and the men . . .
Michael had already halted and had his sword readied when she landed in front of him. He knew her swift arrival signaled trouble.
The moment she imparted her news, he growled, “Time to go to ground or, rather,” his eyes roamed up, “to tree.”
Lianndra followed Michael as he led the men as deep off the trail as time allowed, taking care not to leave any traces behind them. Andrea appeared just as Lianndra got the first two men into the trees. With only two skrins to help hoist the soldiers, they needed to move fast. As the men settled onto branches, the Healers camouflaged them as much as possible with their Vloxx capes. Michael helped the last soldier up when an animal cried out a few hundred feet away.
He crouched in the bushes.
“Michael!” Lianndra braced herself to jump, but Andrea caught her by the arm just in time.
Looking down, they could see his face among the leaves. A piercing stare laced with gold froze them in place. Then he vanished, with only a soft swaying of the branches to mark his passage.
Lianndra bit her lip so hard it bled, and her claws dug into the palms of her clenched hands. Perched in the trees, the soldiers looked tense and unhappy. If detected by the Fang commandos, they were easy prey. There was nothing she could do. She didn’t even dare move. Michael was on his own in a jungle crawling with Fang.
TARK’TOSK PACED IN HER TINY office, an unsatisfactory occupation for the space only permitted three moderate strides before she wound up at the opposite wall. She could move into the hallway, but she knew her agitation would be visible from there. With the techs busy with progress reports on the search for the rebels, making them nervous would be counterproductive.
How can they be evading my searchers? How can they traipse unseen with so many through the jungle, especially as the Healers are not in the best physical condition? Although Tark’tosk had made her wishes clear that the Healers remain unharmed, she was under no illusions. If they circumvented my orders to get them here fast—I doubt those Healers are in good shape. I will track down whoever made this mess the moment this immediate crisis is over. Heads are going to fly.
A soft beep sounded from her console and she spun on a clawed heel, sliding in behind her desk in a smooth motion. The face on the screen revealed her Chamber of Elders’ contact. Her heart rate increased. Something important has happened.
Moments later, she signed off and leaned back in her chair, rubbing her head crests with both hands. She took the time to gather her thoughts. I am preoccupied with events that matter little when put into the proper context.
She returned her hands to her console and retrieved files ready for just this moment. They consisted of orders to Jrk’sak, the Central Intelligence Processor, her technicians, and the support techs on the Motherships.
With a single push of a button, she transmitted the commands, setting in motion the plans spelling the end for the Gryphon and this pathetic war.
IT WAS LATE IN THE day when the two Healers left the soldiers in the trees and scouted the area for Fang and Michael. The surrounding units were pitching camp for the night. Of Michael, there was no sign. They had no way of knowing where the commando unit prowled, and it made Lianndra nervous knowing they could be out there in the gathering darkness.
Night had fallen by the time the Healers deemed it safe for the men to descend. The soldiers hunkered down with Lianndra in the bushes, relieved they were out of the trees. Sean kept glancing her way, waiting for instructions.
Like I’m any kind of leader. With Michael gone, Sean obviously questioned her ability to provide guidance.
“Can you track Michael?” he asked, his voice subdued.
Lianndra knew she could track Michael by scent and intended to do so as long as she could keep clear of the Fang. Lianndra would have to stay on the ground, rather than in the trees. “I will go after Michael.”
“Nice try,” Andrea said, “but there’s no way you are heading off alone.”
“No offense, ma’am, but Michael would have our hides if we let you do that. We move as a team, or not at all.” Sean flashed her a sympathetic grin.
So much for providing leadership. Lianndra glared. She didn’t have the time to argue the point and perhaps they were right. “Okay,” she said to him. Then to Andrea, “I have to track from the ground, so can you cope with scout duty alone?”
In answer, Andrea swung into the trees. Most fighting units would rest for the night, so the commandos were their main worry. Andrea stayed ahead while two men dropped back as rear guards. They would have to remain within the main group’s sight or risk getting separated in the darkness. Sean whispered instructions to them and positioned himself behind Lianndra, hefting his laser rifle.
From the first inhalation, Lianndra knew she tracked more than just Michael. The sour odor of Fang filled her nostrils as she followed his faint tracks in the mud. She soon noticed Michael’s tracks seemed a little too clear—he deliberately led the Fang.
Leading them, she realized, away from us, trapped in our tree.
Michael’s scent had changed along with his body. There existed an underlying current of musk to it now, not unpleasant but not human either. Every leaf he brushed against held a trace of his unique aroma. The trail remained as clear to her as his footprints in the mud.
The men followed her in the darkness. They traveled for three hours, circumnavigating silent Fang encampments and a herd of huge Razorbacks bedded do
wn in the underbrush. Andrea kept everyone well clear of camp sentries. Curiously, Michael’s trail led them toward the grasslands. Why is he heading this way? Has he heard from Drake? Lianndra’s mind raced. If he has received the all clear, Michael would have come back for us. He wouldn’t have left us stranded. It’s not his style. She tried not to think about the danger he was in. I’m pretty sure the Fang following him are those damned commandos. He wouldn’t want to lead them back to us.
Momentarily lost in her worried thoughts, Lianndra jumped when Andrea appeared in front of her.
“What is it?” she whispered to the tall Healer.
Andrea shook her head. “Just ahead. You have to see this.”
A few steps later, Lianndra smelled death so strong it flooded the entire area, making it difficult to find the source. She almost tripped over the first body. A Fang commando. Dead, lying twisted in the foliage. By the dim light of the moons, she spotted another, split in two.
Lianndra heard murmurs of what sounded like approval as the men spread out for a head count.
“Twenty-seven commandos,” Sean reported back to her. “Looks like one hell of a fight. Most have wounds inflicted by Michael’s big sword. Some look—just—broken.” His voice reflected respect and something else—awe.
Twenty-seven dead commandos—and Michael’s unique odor saturated them.
Lianndra had yet to experience the Berserker in Michael up close and personal. Her memories of him rescuing her remained foggy, but she’d seen his rage from a distance when he dealt with the commandos in the clearing. Soldiers talked about Michael’s abilities when in Berserker mode, but this was the first time she stood among the resulting carnage. No wonder the men see him as something more than human.
At the edge of the trampled battle scene, Lianndra found where Michael had continued, his scent mixed with the coppery smell of blood. The scent dispersed as though he ran and touched the leaves in passing. The trail curved back the way they’d come.
Lianndra hesitated. Going back meant heading into the thick of the Fang. Right now, her little band was only a couple of camped units away from freedom. They might not get another chance to reach the grasslands and rejoin the rebellion.
Drake’s group should be safely out by now. If they weren’t, whatever had gone wrong might keep them from ever getting out. Either way, there’s little point in the team hanging around here. But I’m not leaving Michael behind.
She gathered everyone into the shadows of an enormous tree. Before she could speak, a rumble shook the ground beneath their feet.
Andrea appeared from above. “Fire in the sky,” she said, “back the way we came!”
“The creek bed,” Sean said. “Michael’s got the control module. He must have set it off.”
“He’s heard from Drake,” Lianndra said. Once Drake gave them the all clear via comm, they had intended for the explosions to divert the Fang and let Michael’s team slip away.
She turned to Sean. “Lead the others out of here. The explosion site will preoccupy the Fang.”
“You’re going after Michael.” Andrea placed her hands on her hips, brows drawn into a frown.
“Again, with all due respect, he wouldn’t want you doing that.” Sean didn’t flinch, even when Lianndra glared at him. He cleared his throat. “Trust me. If there is anyone who is just fine on his own, it’s Michael. He’ll head out now too. If you go after him, you’ll end up chasing each other around the jungle.”
“Besides which, we are not leaving without you,” Tomas said.
Lianndra saw by everyone’s expressions the others were right with him.
They’re as good at following orders as I am at giving them. Lianndra turned away and faced the darkness. Far off, she heard shouting as nearby Fang units got their men up and moving toward the light in the night sky. The explosions drew the Fang in that direction, clearing the path for her team to get out. The hell of it is, once again, they’re probably right. Michael’s alive, she thought. He was within range of the module to set the explosives off—must be why he doubled back. He saved us from the commandos by leading them away and taking them out. Now he’s telling us to get the hell out.
It tore at Lianndra’s heart, but there was only one logical path to take. She followed Andrea up into the trees, knowing Sean would follow them as he led the men through the undergrowth.
SURROUNDED BY SCRUBBY BUSHES AND leaning against a rock, Drake sat in the sunlight with his arms crossed and eyes closed.
Can’t remember when I last felt this tired. Even my bones ache, he thought. Nothing like wrestling sixty people through the jungle for an afternoon’s workout. He considered it a miracle they’d lost no one along the way. He knew that his diminishing adrenaline was all that kept him upright. One more bloke to check in, and I can get some well-deserved rest.
The rebel captain sent the others ahead on the backs of Gryphon. By now, both groups of soldiers and Healers would have arrived at the closest of several rebel camps in the area. Many rescued women would need their sister Healers’ help to recover from their ordeal. Others would be able to help in the rebellion. Hannah was already hard at work determining which Healers would be ready for immediate recruitment.
As soon as possible, Drake would be back in the jungle to free more slaves. But not until I get some rest. I’m so tired, I’m almost seeing double.
“He comes.” The deep voice seemed to originate out of nowhere until an enormous form rose from the scrub. Karn shook the dust from his fluffy gold coat and turned to face the jungle. Behind him, another Gryphon snorted and stretched himself upright, tufted ears oriented toward the jungle. His fur shone silver with small leopard spots of deep blue. The two big Gryph glowed in the sunlight.
I wish a simple dust bath would do that for me, Drake thought. I have dirt in places I would rather not think about. He stared at them for a moment before continuing to search the thick foliage. Strewth, I thought Karn was big. This other bloke is even bigger.
A few moments more, and he could make out what the Gryphon’s keen ears perceived: the soft crunch of boots on gravel.
“Ahoy,” came a deep voice.
“A-hoy?” Karn responded, sounding bemused. Drake knew the big Gryph would file the word away for future reference.
A dark shadow resolved itself into Michael, stepping through the scrub. Even soaked in grime, it was evident he was barely clothed. His shirt hung in ribbons, his bare chest coated in gore, and stains covered his shredded pants. Drake saw Karn’s sensitive nostrils flare and was momentarily grateful for his boring old human nose.
Michael had his long black sword slung over his shoulder, a broken branch hung from one edge.
Helluva way to treat such a fine weapon, Drake thought as he greeted Michael with a slap to the back, His joy at seeing the big bloke surprised him. He and Michael had been in comm contact most of the morning, but it was a relief to see him safe and mostly sound.
Michael stepped back from Drake and glanced around. Drake knew who Michael looked for and responded with, “I sent everyone on ahead to the camp. They’re sweet, all accounted for. Just worn out.”
Michael nodded, but Drake thought he looked disappointed. I sure hope he and Lianndra get themselves sorted out soon before they drive each other, and the rest of us, crazy.
Karn shook his mane and rattled his neck spikes in a Gryphon expression of amusement. He looked at Michael. “Stink.”
“Yeah, well, you should have smelled the other guys,” Michael replied as he swung onto his friend’s back.
Karn opened a hand to the other Gryphon in an apparent gesture of introduction. “Roz.”
Even from his perch on Karn’s back, the big man looked at the other Gryph. “Wow. You ate hearty breakfasts as a kid, didn’t you?”
Roz tilted his head at Michael, and Karn said something to him in fluid, musical Gryphonese.
“Hey, what did you just say about me?” Michael demanded as Roz snorted and nodded.
Roz’s da
rk mane fluffed. “Said Roz should sing.” The giant silver Gryph looked confused as he bowed to allow Drake to climb aboard. As he pulled himself up the rebel captain raised an eyebrow at Michael, waiting for an explanation.
“Please, no,” Michael said. He looked at Drake. “They seem to think they can sing. Trust me. If Roz is anything like Karn, they will make your ears bleed.”
Drake grinned and shook his head. The Gryphon headed back to the rebel camp at a jog, picking their way through the scrub. I’m glad Michael has mates among the Gryphon, he thought. He seems more comfortable with them than his own kind nowadays.
Lost in their thoughts, Gryphon and humans became temporarily blinded when the sky exploded with brilliant color. The light splashed across the cloudless atmosphere as though along the curve of an enormous bubble. Normality returned for a few moments and, with a crashing sound, the sky illuminated again. This time, the earth shook under their feet in response. Both Gryphon stopped dead, half-rearing.
Karn bellowed, “Shield!”
Drake understood before Michael. He shouted over the rumble as the sky lit up again. Immediately, the Gryphon stretched into a full gallop.
Drake grabbed at Roz’s torso spines to keep his balance. The Gryphon’s footfalls echoed the beats of his heart as his thoughts spun.
The Fang are attacking the planetary shield.
TARK’TOSK’S EYES SWIRLED RED WITH bloodlust as the plasma cannon fired on the planetary shield.
At last, she thought. The Gryphon’s days are numbered.
She paced back and forth behind her techs, listening to their reports as the massive Motherships adjusted to the new power demands placed on them by the cannon. So far, no hitches. Everything continued according to plan.
It had taken longer than ideal to restructure the power grids and build the cannon. They had paid a heavy price for the delay, particularly in Fang lives on the ground.
