by Ben Hale
The shadow ropes went taught, the ropes catching on leg and pincer, arm and horn, hand and neck. Quare flopped awkwardly as krakas landed upon them, crushing them under their bulk. Sipers tripped and went down, while skorpians were tossed onto their sides, pincers and spear tails stabbing and impaling. Shadow burst into a laugh at the thrashing horde of fiends, and to his surprise, Rynda joined.
“It appears your mischief has a purpose,” she chuckled. “When it’s pointed in the right direction.”
A distant roar rumbled across the writhing mass of bound bodies, and Shadow spotted Bartoth standing atop a nearby log. His roar signaled another charge, this time by the second rank. Heedless of the damage, the second rank charged, carving their way through the first line as if their lives meant nothing.
Quare were torn apart as krakas used their heavy obsidian blades on their bodies, the shadow ropes snapping under the assault. Thousands were slain in minutes, and the second wave trod them underfoot.
“I get credit for those kills,” Shadow said.
“Are you counting?” Elenyr asked.
“Of course,” Shadow said. “How else will we know that I killed more than Queen Rynda?”
She smirked. “Let the best troll win.”
She reached to her back and unstrapped a giant bow. The weapon was as tall as Shadow’s entire body, the string as thick as his thumb. The arrows were odd, a mixture of wood, metal tips, and wind magic, the air swirling around the shafts. She notched the arrow and aimed at the charging horde.
The bow released, the arrow soaring farther than even an elven longbow. Then it splintered, the arrows separating in all directions, turning into a lethal volley that pummeled a pack of sipers. One embedded into a neck, bringing it down, others sank into flesh, but most soared right down their throats.
“A thousand to fifty,” Shadow said. “You’ve got some ground to make up.”
The horde plunged into the sea of pitfalls, falling into holes and tripping over hidden wires. Many were impaled by buried spikes. Treewalkers rose up and bashed the ranks of fiends before kraka swords cleaved their trunks apart. The charge slowed, but again the fiends continued to advance over their fallen brethren.
The fiends approached the outer wall, seemingly oblivious to their fallen dead. Quare screamed in pain, sipers fell into pits, and a pair of skorpians died in an explosion of stonesap, the fireball sending a plume of smoke across the charge. Then the skorpians formed a line and their tails snapped forward, sending black spears soaring through the air.
“Get to cover!” Queen Nelia’s voice filled the city, and everyone ducked beneath the shelters they had built.
The black spears thudded into the aquaglass walls, the smooth blue momentarily cracking, the spears sinking deep. Others clattered across the battlements while many fell into the forces behind the wall. One man made the mistake of poking his head out to watch the barrage, and a spear took his life.
In his elemental form, Shadow leaned out over the battlements and watched the city wall push the spears out, the enchantments forcing the weapons back. They clattered to the ground and the crystalline blue became smooth once again.
“Archers ready!”
Again Queen Nelia’s voice filled the city, and archers raised their weapons. Crossbowmen and ballistae behind the wall also took aim, the bolts pointed directly at the wall, and the charging fiends beyond.
The fiend charge flowed across the dead, shrieking and screaming, the sounds punctuated by the dull roar of krakas and the clacking of skorpian pincers. On all sides of the city the fiends closed the noose, sipers taking the lead, their scaly skin shimmering from black to red. A hundred feet closed to fifty, and Rynda raised her bow, bellowing an order.
The archers released their arrows, filling the first wave with a lethal volley. Sipers died by the thousands, falling to their knees and tumbling to a halt. Those that came behind snarled and charged the city walls, just as those behind the barrier fired. But they didn’t fire over the wall. They fired into the wall.
Crossbow bolts and ballistae exploded from weapons. Where they touched the aquaglass wall, the enchantment opened small holes, allowing the bolts to pass through. From just feet away, the crossbowmen unleashed a devastating volley, the barbed shafts thudding into siper and quare flesh, sinking deep and bringing the charge to its knees.
A handful of krakas made it through and the armored soldiers swung their obsidian swords, bashing the aquaglass barrier. Cracks spread across the surface, but the magic healed quickly, the cracks turning smooth. The ballistae operators turned their weapons on the krakas, the large bolts bursting through the wall and striking them in their sides.
From above the wall, dwarves ignited fuses and dropped small barrels on the remainder. The barrels exploded, covering the remaining captains in fire. Rynda raised her splinter bow and fired, the arrows bursting apart and thudding into the next wave, which was already drawing close.
“I love this wall,” Shadow breathed.
“It’s enchantments are powerful,” Rynda said, aiming with her bow and sending another splinter arrow into the leading ranks. Then she pointed to a section farther north. “But it has a cost.”
Shadow followed her direction and saw where three krakas had survived the initial charge. All three pummeled the wall, spreading cracks across its surface. A skorpian bolt had further damaged the section before the captains were slain. The cracks had begun to repair, but the wall could not finish repairing before the next assault slammed into the barrier.
“If the wall shatters, we won’t last long,” Elenyr said, turning and heading to the stairs.
“Where are you going?” Shadow called.
“To make sure I win my bet,” Elenyr said.
Shadow grinned and followed her down the stairs. Despite her banter, Shadow noticed the tension to her shoulders, and the crease to her forehead. Elenyr feared the worst, and although the battle had just been joined, both knew their chances were slim. Especially when the generals joined the fray.
They reached the north gates just as Light poked his head from above his war machine. “Done!”
“It’s beautiful,” Willow said.
“But will it work?” Shadow asked.
Shadow eyed the three circular blades placed on the outside of the machine. All three contained spikes that arced away, resembling the circular saws the dwarven iron mages favored. All three were attached to the top of the wagon by glowing chains, each link fashioned by Light.
King Dothlore and two engineers appeared from the other side of the wagon, checking the mechanisms made out of solid light. Dothlore grunted in approval and then stepped to Elenyr’s side.
“Get to cover!”
The entire group retreated to the back of the wagon, where they remained underneath the shield Light had crafted to protect his machine. Shadow couldn’t help but grin as the spears bounced off the shield.
“Are you really going to ride this out there?” he asked.
“Elenyr said we have to protect the wall,” Light said. “And I’m going to join the cavalry charge.”
He had to shout over the sound of thousands of crossbows and arrows being released, and the shrieks and cries of the dying fiends. More cracks appeared on the wall, most healing, but some remaining, the white lines a stark reminder that the city was not impervious.
Skorpian bolts thudded into the sphere protecting the castle, driving deep. The enchantments pushed them out and they fell to splash into the lake. Others thudded into the great mother tree, and the wood shuddered in pain.
“Time to go!” Light called.
Shadow grinned and turned to Elenyr. “Can I come?”
Elenyr reached for the mechanism and leapt to the top. “Could I stop you?”
Willow sighed, the sound implying she was regretting her life choices. “One day you are going to be the death of me.”
Light grinned. “Not today.”
Shadow climbed to the top and found a place where Light
could sit and operate the three saws. “Don’t worry, Willow. It’s going to be fun.”
“We’re going to ride out into a giant horde of fiends bent on destroying our very existence, and you think it’s going to be fun?”
Shadow’s smile matched his brother’s. “This is the very definition of fun.”
Chapter 37: Light’s War Machine
Light checked his machine and called out his gratitude to Dothlore. Normally he would never have used such a contraption, but Elenyr had convinced him that since his magic was weaker, perhaps he would enjoy crafting a war machine.
“This is actually rather clever,” Shadow said.
“It was Elenyr’s idea,” Light replied.
Shadow looked daggers at Elenyr, who suddenly seemed very interested in the controls. Light was too busy to notice the exchange and hurried to explain the machine, but Shadow cut him off and stabbed a finger at the doors.
“I’ll figure it out as we go, the cavalry is ready.”
“Ready when you are, captain,” Elenyr called.
“Are you sure about this?” Captain Horn asked, mounting a steed.
“We’ll find out soon enough,” Elenyr said.
The next wave slammed into the aquaglass wall. Thicker than the previous attacks, many made it through the withering volley of arrows and crossbow bolts. The fiends struck the glass and climbed on the bodies of the fallen, clawing at the material. The krakas slashed at the glass and spearmen stabbed through the wall, the weapons striking the fiend captains. One yanked the spear through and tried to stab the owner, but the enchantment only went one way, and the spear bounced off. The kraka growled in dismay and caught a ballistae bolt in the gut, knocking him backwards.
“Now!” Willow called, and the gates swung open.
Light’s excitement mounted as the gates opened. The sudden breach in the wall was seen as an invitation, and the fiends rushed to the opening. Talinorian and elven cavalry charged the four entrances to the city, bursting into the open. With spears pointed down, the armored riders slammed into the fiends and turned right, all four groups sweeping around the exterior of the city.
Skorpian spears flew thick in the air but the riders on the outside of the charge raised their hands, calling on the wind to knock the spears from the air. Instead of falling among the riders, the lethal volley dropped in the next wave of fiends, killing their own and slowing the advance. Jumping the bodies of the dead, the cavalry arced around the city, their combined shout sending a cheer through the defenders.
Willow snapped the reins and the wagon lurched forward, falling into line behind the last of the cavalry from the north exit. Its wheels were spiked and made of light, allowing it to ride over the dead fiends on the outside of the city. The moment they were in the open, Light reached for the three levers, and yanked the center one.
His carver began to spin, the entire machine vibrating. The central carver leapt from the wagon and streaked away, spinning so fast the spikes became a blur of sharpened steel. It struck the leading edge of sipers and cut through, plunging into the dark horde. Fiends screamed and cried out, falling in both directions as the carver cut a lethal line deep through the rank.
The chain connecting the carver to the machine went taught, jolting the wagon. Then Light used the two other levers, one to move sideways, one to move up. The spinning carver reacted to the command and turned sideways.
Shadow crowed with delight as he sent his own carver spinning away and used his own levers to turn it one way or another, directing its angle of attack. The spinning blade cut through two krakas and then a skorpian before catching a knot of quare.
“This is worth twenty gold,” Shadow called.
“What?” Light glanced to his brother, but he shook his head.
“Nothing.”
“I knew you liked puzzles,” Elenyr said, activating the third carver. “But this is brilliant.”
Light grinned, pleased by her praise. “Like you said, I created my own puzzle.”
When Mind, Fire, and Water had departed the previous night, Light had been worried, so Elenyr had suggested he create a puzzle to occupy him until morning. She’d even suggested he create a new type of war machine, a prospect he found appealing. And once he remembered the carver used by the Order of Ancients, the idea had fallen into place.
“Can you three focus!” Willow shouted. “We’re drawing a lot of attention.”
The fiends were turning away from the cavalry ahead of them and flooding in their direction. Light pulled his two levers, shifting the carver in one direction and then the other, and raising it to cut through the tails of several skorpians behind a rise of earth.
A large mass collected to their left and Willow turned them right, the wheels bouncing over the rough earth as they rotated to follow the curve of the city wall. Light leaned to the right, cringing as the wagon tilted. Shadow laughed and kept turning his carver, clearing the path ahead.
“Just keep going!” Light shouted.
“I plan to,” Willow said grimly.
Light noticed her features were tight, her grey skin a shade darker. “Willow?” he called. “Are you well?”
“No!” she shot over her shoulder. She grimaced as the wolfsteeds carried them over a group of wounded quare, who were trampled beneath the hooves and wheels. “Do you have a plan when they catch us?”
“I hadn’t thought of that.” Light tapped his chin in thought.
“They’re getting closer,” Elenyr warned.
The fiends were jumping and charging past the spinning carvers, which leapt back and forth. Some were getting through. A siper fell into their wake, its powerful legs allowing it to leap a stump and a dead kraka. He closed the gap in a burst of speed and lunged, its jaws reaching for a wheel.
Elenyr turned ethereal and leaned out of the wagon. She drew her blade and sliced the beast across its face. It gave a wounded cry and fell to the ground, but Elenyr’s carver had not moved for a few precious seconds, and the enemy took full advantage of the lapse. They charged around it and sprinted into the dust cloud kicked up by their wagon.
“Faster!” Shadow warned.
“I’m going as fast as I can,” Willow snapped. “You want to drive?”
“Of course,” he said. “I didn’t know that was an option.”
“It wasn’t,” Light said apologetically. “We both know what happens when you drive anything with wheels.”
“I crash,” Shadow said. “But it’s so worth it.”
“Can you keep them off us?” Willow called, her voice tense.
They bounced over dead fiends and ruts in the earth. Trees had been torn up, their giant logs forming a labyrinthine network of large holes, fallen trees, and giant roots. Willow yanked on the reins, turning them away from the city because the wagon wouldn’t fit through a gap. The cavalry continued on, leaving Light’s wagon more exposed.
“We need to get out of here!” Elenyr called.
Sipers turned on them as they circled the city, and Light swung his carver, slicing through the next rank of fiends. But thousands were filling their wake, with more coming. Several quare got past Light and leapt for the wolfsteeds, but such an assault was a mistake, as the wolf part of the horses snapped at the quare, their jaws clamping shut.
“I told you they were useful,” Light called.
Shadow rolled his eyes but did not respond as the sipers converged on his side. They darted in, struggling to avoid the shrieking carver. Several got past and charged, leaping for Shadow’s chair.
A splinter arrow exploded from several feet away, the smaller arrows pummeling the sipers, killing them so closely that one fell beneath the wheels. Light raised a hand and waved his gratitude to Rynda as they bounced over the siper body. Rynda made the symbol for Light in the air, making it clear the assist was for Light.
“I don’t think she likes me,” Shadow lamented.
“She doesn’t,” Elenyr said.
Elenyr relinquished control of the carver to
Light, who turned in his seat to work both. Elenyr jumped to the back of the wagon and swung her sword, cutting a quare that had caught a grip on a section of the upper shield.
“Look out!” Willow cried.
Hundreds of skorpian spears streaked for their position, the black weapons bouncing off the upper shield, some narrowly missing the wolfsteeds. Light ducked as one came for his head. The sheer volume of spears caused the wagon to tip, and Shadow cast a thread into the haze. The shadow caught a stump of a tree, dropping them back to the ground.
“We’re running out of time,” Willow called.
“Especially now,” Shadow said.
He pointed to the figure that had appeared in their path. The giant form swung his sword in lazy arcs, his armor seeming to absorb the light. Bartoth stepped into the only route the war machine could pass. Then he picked up a stray obsidian blade and hefted the weapon like it was a toy. Leaning forward, he hurled the heavy sword.
Willow yanked on the reins, attempting to swing them up a slope and into the open ground closer to the city walls. The kraka sword caught them on the corner of the war machine, slicing through the mechanism before coming to a stop next to Light’s leg. It lodged in the controls of Elenyr’s carver, severing the magical link. The spinning wheel at the end of the chain went wild, hurtling west before slamming through two kraka and thudding into a tree.
“Hang on!” Willow called.
“Time to get back in the city,” Elenyr said, stabbing a finger at the eastern gates, which had just appeared around the turn. Tens of thousands of fiends had just crashed into the wall, and they died by bolt, arrow, and spear.
“Don’t stop,” Light said.
His own carver responded sluggishly, but he directed it into their path, the chain extending above the heads of the wolfsteeds and darting about. The war machine slammed into the flank of the fiend wave. Elenyr slashed at their unprotected side while Shadow spun his carver about, keeping them from climbing aboard. Despite their efforts, more and more caught the wagon and its wheels. They began to slow.