Death's Angel

by Colin Lindsay

  Fayre couldn’t believe that so many people existed. “Where did such a force come from?”

  “Soren has been growing his army with every conquered village as he moves south and expands east and west.”

  “Who is this Soren?”

  “Their leader.”

  “What does he want?”

  “He wants to destroy the airships to stop communities from being dependent on others.”

  “How can destruction be an improvement?” Fayre asked uncomprehendingly.

  “I don’t think he’s thought it through. He believes he needs to wipe the table clear to set it again.”

  “How do you know what he believes?”

  “He told me.”

  The silence that followed was palpable.

  Lily asked the question everyone had on their minds, “How?”

  “I spent time in his camp. I hunted airships with him.”

  Lily couldn’t wrap her mind around Forest’s response and sat dumbly.

  Fayre pressed on with her questions. “Why would anyone follow such a madman?”

  “He’s very persuasive, and the freedom to decide one’s own fate is a powerful message to rally people around. Besides, many of the northern clans were pretty violent to begin with.”

  “But, why is he doing it?”

  “It’s personal for him. Soren calls himself ‘a child of the winds,’ having been sent away from his family in an airship. That’s why he hates them so much.”

  Fayre thought that over but still couldn’t believe that one man’s anger could galvanize such a force. “How do we avoid his army?”

  “We just stay ahead of it.”

  “So, where are we headed?”

  “I have no idea – just away at this point. We need to keep moving until we find somewhere safe, if such a place even exists.”

  Fayre had no more questions, so Forest signaled everyone to prepare to resume their walk. Everyone rose wearily, and they continued south until the light filtering through the trees began to dim, and Forest declared that they needed to make camp soon.

  A rustling in a nearby tree startled Allie, and she shrieked. Forest spun around, bow at the ready, only to see a squirrel perched on the branch beside Allie’s head.

  “It’s just a squirrel,” Oriel pointed out, just before the arrow struck it. Allie’s eyes went wide.

  “Waste want, want not,” Forest pointed out, reslinging her bow. Allie looked shocked as Forest walked over to recover the squirrel, secured it to her belt, and resumed walking.

  Forest stopped them at the next clearing. She directed Calix, Oriel, and Will to haul their food stores high into the trees, which was time-consuming and back-breaking. She rounded up Fayre, Lily, and Cera and led them in collecting firewood. She let Abdi and Kala’s grandfather rest, and Allie was still too petrified to leave Oriel’s side.

  They sat around the fire that night, making small talk. Forest skinned the squirrel and cooked it. She passed it around, and everyone cut off a morsel, except Allie, who shunned it like it was poison.

  Lily massaged Cera’s sore feet, her footwear not being ideal for hiking. Lily asked Forest about Soren’s camp, and she obliged her, with Abdi adding details where he could. Forest told Lily about meeting a kindly fighter named Jarom and his family but stopped short of revealing that he was technically her and Lily’s step-uncle. Too much, too soon, Forest thought. I’ll tell her when she’s not already overwhelmed.

  Despite the protection their fire offered, Forest strung a perimeter wire with bells, the way Kala had shown her. She also set up a watch rotation among her, Oriel and Calix. Kala’s grandfather insisted that he join in the watch, so Forest assigned him the early morning shift. No one slept much that night, despite their exhaustion. When Calix woke Forest for her turn on watch, she could tell by the others’ breathing who was asleep and who was not, and how soundly. She couldn’t blame them for struggling to sleep. They had so much to process, and it was the first time that most of them had slept on hard ground and not a soft bed, never mind in a place replete with things that could kill them. Still, they didn’t complain, and Forest respected them more for it. She watched Cera hold Lily as she slept and wished wistfully that she had someone to look out for her.

  In the morning, as they prepared to decamp, Oriel shouted, and everyone stopped what they were doing to see why. He pointed to the sky through the trees in the direction they’d come. Smoke was rising into the air from where their village lay. The implication sunk in, to everyone’s growing horror – they’d all left loved ones behind.

  Calix drew his sword. “We have to go back,” he said, looking about desperately for support.

  Fayre walked over and bade him lower his sword. “There’s nothing to be done.”

  “My father,” he pleaded.

  “Pray he made it out safely.”

  “We should wait here in case he did – in case anyone did.”

  “We can’t,” Forest said resignedly. “We have to keep moving and hope that they follow us.”

  “They can’t,” Calix despaired, knowing that it was only because of Forest’s guidance that they had a chance of survival.

  “Honor him by living, and we’ll pray for his safety,” Fayre said, placing a consoling hand on his shoulder.

  They finished packing in silence, each of them consumed with grief. Forest hoped that sacking the village might slow Soren’s advance and buy them a little time, and hated herself for thinking it.

  They continued south, and it clouded over by afternoon, with a light drizzle adding to their misery. Near evening, they came across a rock outcropping that overhung the mouth of a shallow cave. Fayre suggested they shelter from the rain beneath it.

  “I don’t like it,” Forest replied. She hated caves – things lived in caves – unpleasant things. Taking in the sorry state of her companions, however, she concluded that the risk might be necessary and reluctantly agreed. She and Oriel drew their knives and investigated the opening. It narrowed into a tunnel at the back, but the tunnel was too dark to explore very deeply. There was no sign that the ground inside the cave or the tunnel had been disturbed recently, but it still gave her a terrible feeling of uneasiness. Despite, Forest’s reservations, they decided that it was safe enough to chance overnighting in the mouth of the cave.

  They pulled the cart in out of the rain. A fire would be difficult to light after an afternoon of rain, but they needed it to ward off predators. Forest explained to everyone how to find wood that was either hopefully still dry, or at least not totally soaked, and sent them out to explore the near forest. They finally succeeded at getting a fire going and set about drying their clothes and preparing for sleep. Those not on watch slept more soundly that night from sheer exhaustion.

  Forest was deep asleep when Oriel roused her. “There’s something out there,” he told her.

  She rose and pulled out her knife, concluding that her bow would be useless in the dark. She stood still and listened, concluding that there was definitely something prowling around in the dark in the rain. She caught sight of a pair of red eyes reflecting the firelight. “Wake the others,” she instructed Oriel and kept watch while he did. The creature moved closer.

  “Torches!” Forest shouted as a gigantic bear reared into view. It stood twice her height, shook its wet fur, and roared at her. Forest felt pitifully small before it but stood her ground. The beast dropped to all fours and closed on her, tearing the ground with its clawed paws and gnashing its teeth. Oriel rushed to her side with two torches and the bear halted and reared. Oriel handed Forest one of the torches, and together they waved them at the beast and shouted at it. The bear swung at them, and they alternated between pressing the torches forward at the bear and dodging backward from its swipes. It was a stalemate that Forest feared they’d eventually lose.

  Realizing the uselessness of the knife she still held in her right hand against such a creature, Forest sheathed it and grabbed Oriel’s torch. “Get more,” she com
manded him and turned back to face the bear alone. The bear, emboldened, advanced, and Forest did her best to hold it back, waving the torches in front of it and yelling a string of obscenities. Everyone joined her in yelling at the beast, or screaming, at least. It disoriented the beast, and it bellowed at her and clawed the ground.

  Oriel reappeared at her side, with Calix, and the three of them moved closer to the bear, fanning out to push it back. It glared from one of them to another, waving its claw-tipped paws. Oriel got close enough to shake a torch in its face, and the bear swatted him off his feet. He lay groaning as Forest and Calix continued to push forward. The bear finally turned and crashed away into the woods, leaving Forest shaking and Calix rushing to Oriel’s side.

  Forest stood watch with her torches in case the bear returned while the others pulled Oriel near the fire and tended to his injuries. He likely had broken ribs, but there was nothing they could do for him except keep him still and comfortable.

  The morning came with no return of the bear. Forest collapsed in a heap beside Lily.

  Fayre approached. “We can’t press on with Oriel in his condition. We need to wait at least a day.”

  It’s too risky to stay, Forest thought, but one look at Oriel confirmed the truth of what Fayre said, and there was no way they could abandon him. She sighed and nodded her agreement. Fayre went off to let everyone know they would be staying put for the day.

  “I need a moment,” Forest told Lily, and wandered a little way into the woods. When she was far enough away from their camp, she collapsed to a mossy patch of ground and sobbed from the stress.

  She looked up to see that Lily had followed her. Lily bent down beside her and placed a soothing hand on her back. “You don’t have to be so strong all the time,” Lily said.

  “Someone has to,” Forest replied between sobs.

  “No, you don’t. We’re scared. You can be scared too. We can be scared together. We have each other.”

  Forest leaned into her and surrendered to her fear.

  Emrys

  Wilm sat hidden high in the branches as Janus had instructed him to do. It was the first night he’d spent outside the village, and he hadn’t slept at all – but that was the point he supposed. He was assigned to look out for anything unusual, just in case the Forest girl was telling the truth about marauders heading toward the village. He thought about how fearful his girlfriend had been at his assignment, but relished the bragging he’d be able to do among his buddies when it was over – and the rising light indicated to him that it would indeed be over soon. Dawn can’t come fast enough, he thought. This gods-damned branch is killing my behind.

  A hint of motion distracted him from his self-pity, then another, and another. He peered down into the dim forest to see a wave of warriors moving silently forward through the trees. I must be dreaming, he thought and shifted his weight to see if he could feel his body. The sharp stab of pain as his legs protested being woken from their slumber confirmed that he was indeed awake. He slowly lifted the horn to his lips, as he’d been told to, and blew a deep, sustained note.

  The warriors disregarded him and didn’t even speed up their advance. After three more blasts of the horn, one man turned and fired an arrow through Wilm’s throat.

  As he choked his last breaths, he thought, Please let that have been enough warning, and then darkness took him.

  The sound of the horn jolted Emrys awake. Gods, no! he thought. Forest spoke the truth. He jumped out of bed, fully clothed, grabbed his pack, and raced out the door for the south gate. The streets were filled with panicked villagers streaming out of their homes, bleary-eyed and in various states of wakefulness and readiness. He smelled the smoke from the grass fires lit at the northern gate to obscure the village and hopefully make their attackers warier.

  Janus and his men were already at the south gate by the time Emrys and most of the other villagers arrived. Janus spotted him, nodded and signaled to his men. They advanced out the gate into the fields as a phalanx. They’d fashioned makeshift shields from tables and anything else they could find. Emrys stayed close behind Janus and noticed that the man had no pack – nor did any of his men. They didn’t expect to leave this place, he realized. Emrys felt a pang of guilt.

  Arrows pelted their makeshift shields, and the villagers huddled in the center of the formation, advancing slowly. Several men were struck by arrows, but they grimaced and did their best to continue shielding the women and children. They’d made it halfway across the field toward the safety of the trees when they met a line of advancing warriors blocking their escape. Janus and Torin were at the tip of the phalanx, and they dropped their shields to engage them.

  “Run for the trees!” Emrys yelled at the frightened villagers behind him. Janus and Torin swung hand axes in wide arcs and pushed left and right to create an opening for the villagers, who surged forward toward the treeline, heading for the ribbon that Emrys had tied to the tree nearest to where he’d watched Forest lead her party into the woods.

  A woman in front of Emrys, who was carrying a small girl, was struck by an arrow and fell. She didn’t get up, and the girl she’d been carrying pressed herself against the woman’s body as people ran past. Emrys ran to her and scooped her into his arms. She protested leaving the woman. “We’ve got to go,” he told her. “We’ll come back for your mommy later,” he lied and raced toward the trees with her, dodging the fighting.

  Arriving at the trees, he paused to look back. Janus struggled against two men, and Torin kept a circle of others at bay. Most of their comrades had fallen. Torin looked back to see his nephew hesitating near Emrys, unsure of whether to desert his uncle.

  “Flee, boy!” Torin yelled, and his nephew turned for the woods. Only Emrys saw Torin mouth the words, “I love you,” and turn his attention back to his foes.

  “Surrender, and we’ll spare the boy,” one of the warriors offered Torin. “You two can join us.”

  “I’m sparing the boy from having to join you,” he spat and swung his axes.

  Emrys looked at the frightened girl in his arms and ran into the woods, leaving Torin to his fate and the village in flames. He crashed through the trees away from the din. He caught up with the rest of the survivors, who had stopped, and Emrys blundered through them to the front. Arrayed in front of them was a row of warriors standing with swords drawn. Emrys felt the jaws of the trap close. Their leader took a step forward.

  Emrys held the little girl tightly to his chest and demanded as bravely as he could, “At least let the children go.”

  “I will do no such thing,” the man replied, and pulled off his helmet to reveal shockingly red hair. “Allow me to introduce myself – I’m Jarom.”

  Kala

  Celeste led Kala and Skye through the opening in the wall to a large, dimly-lit room on the other side. Inside were a few beds and several wide-eyed children. “This is home,” Celeste announced.

  “This is the Resistance?” Skye asked. “It looks more like an orphanage.”

  “Close enough,” Celeste replied. “We are these kids’ only hope.”

  “Hope of what?”

  “Hope of not being sent away in an airship to an unknown and altogether unpleasant fate. We provide refuge to the street kids that the guards like to round up to fill the ships. The guards think they’re expendable because they have no home, so we provide them with one.”

  “You’ve said ‘we’ a few times. Who is ‘we’?” Kala asked.

  “My friends Petr and Twill, and myself. They’re out making coin so we can feed all these mouths.” Celeste looked around lovingly at her charges and sat down on a bed beside a young boy. She pulled a bread roll from her bag, handed it to him, and rubbed his head. “This little guy here is Frey. His parents had him as insurance against their older son’s getting sent away in an airship. When his brother aged out, his parents stopped paying attention to him, and it wasn’t long before he was on the street, and we found him.”

  “Should you be saying
these things in front of him?” Kala asked.

  “Shielding them from the truth of the world is no kindness,” Celeste replied, placing a hand on Frey’s shoulder.

  A little girl strolled by. “I’m a bastard,” she announced.

  “Own it,” Frey encouraged.

  “Go to hell,” she replied.

  Celeste gestured to the girl, “Her parents couldn’t bring themselves to love her for fear that she’d be taken from them and it would break their hearts. She grew up not knowing love. Can you imagine?”

  Kala couldn’t, and a vision of her grandfather swam into her memory. She sat down beside Celeste and placed a hand on her leg. “It is a good thing you do here.”

  Celeste smiled wistfully. “We do what we can, but it never seems to be enough, and we still lose kids.” She clenched the blanket in her fist but otherwise looked unruffled. “You’re welcome to stay here,” she said, brightening.

  Kala and Skye looked at each other.

  “Come on. I can tell by the look of you that you don’t have a roof over your heads. I have an eye for these things,” Celeste accused them bluntly.

  “Guilty as charged,” Kala admitted. “It’s kind of you to offer.”

  “Are you kidding? We’d have our very own assassin. How cool is that?”

  “Pretty cool, I’d say,” Skye replied, smiling. Celeste’s enthusiasm was infectious.

  The children stared at Skye in wide-eyed wonder.

  “Not me,” he set them straight. “Her,” he added, gesturing to Kala.

  The children turned their attention to Kala and looked her over appreciatively.

  “You two can have the bed in the back,” Celeste continued. “It’s not too big, but it’ll give you a measure of privacy.”

  Kala blushed at the implication, and Skye looked at his feet.

  “Thank you,” he finally replied. He looked about the fairly run-down room and asked, “How can we help?”