Firestorm

by William Stacey

  "You can detonate the ammunition," Tec finished. "Even if the guns aren't destroyed, they won't be of any further use."

  "If me and mine can get close enough to their cannons," said Tunwak, a gleam in her red eyes, "we can make sure they never fire again. But we'll need help if there are Tzitzime mages."

  "There will be," Tec said. "Count on it."

  Prince Kilyn's gaze went from Tec to Angie. "You don't have to come. You've already done more than you needed to."

  "No," said Angie, meeting Tec's eyes and reading his mood. "We're coming."

  "Can't pass up a party," Tec said.

  Tunwak smiled, her tusks gleaming in the torchlight.

  Tunwak and her people led Angie and the raiding party through the underground passage, the only sound the rustling of boots. Tunwak held a single hooded lantern, its subdued glow barely strong enough to chase away the darkness, but the passage was clear, the dirt floor smooth, and Angie had no difficulty keeping up. Elves and hobgoblins possessed natural night vision and had no need of a light source at all, but Angie wasn't a Fey, and she had lost her NVGs the night they had escaped Baja California. She had no idea if Tec, a were-jaguar, could see in the dark or not. After all, Erin and her brothers saw perfectly well at night but not in complete darkness.

  As far as confined underground spaces went, this one was, surprisingly, better than most. The passage had been carved from the earth and reinforced by wooden beams at regular intervals along its length. It was sturdily built and clearly well maintained, but every now and then, when the artillery detonated in the ruins above, the walls would shake, and dirt would shower down on their heads. The air was cooler than above, with the distinct smell of dirt. Tree roots grew out of the ceiling and walls, but the hobgoblins had trimmed and pruned them, keeping the passage open. Angie had to admit the hobgoblins knew how to build tunnels. This was infinitely more pleasant than the sewers of Sanwa City or the underground cavern of Zolin.

  The elves traveled lightly, leaving behind their heavy Starsheen cuirasses and replacing them with vests of hardened dark leather. They carried assault rifles but also wore short sword and dagger. At least a dozen carried bows as well. The hobgoblins carried shotguns and thick axes with gleaming black blades that were clearly meant for hewing necks not trees. Angie and Tec each bore an assault rifle, but Angie also had Nightfall on her hip. If they came across a mage—and she was certain they would—she’d deal with him or her.

  Several times, they came to an intersecting tunnel built in an identical fashion, the ends dark. Each time, Tunwak kept them moving south. Tunwak had said these tunnels crisscrossed Imperial Beach, but Angie was beginning to wonder if they extended into the other ruins of San Diego as well. Twice, they passed wooden ladders that led to a closed trap door.

  "Close now," Tunwak whispered. "No more talking."

  The tunnel slanted upward, coming to a dead end just ahead, where another sturdy wooden ladder stood. Tunwak handed the lantern to Prince Kilyn before mounting the ladder. She sniffed the closed trap door, her eyes closed, then nodded to the prince. He extinguished the lantern, plunging Angie and the others into darkness. Her pulse raced, her breathing quickening. Then a sliver of gray appeared in the ceiling as Tunwak raised the trap door several inches. Immediately, fresh air blew into the passage. Tunwak opened the trap door the entire way and then slipped out. Angie felt Tec's body tense beside her. Someone else climbed up the ladder—Prince Kilyn, she thought—and disappeared outside. The moments stretched long, the tension growing. As Angie's eyes adjusted to the dim, she could make out the opening in the ceiling a bit better. It wasn't dark yet, but a thick fog obscured the dusk, settling down and drifting into the opening.

  Elenaril could make fog.

  The other hobgoblins climbed up the ladder, followed by a handful of elves. Tec gripped her sleeve and pulled her along to the ladder, and she scurried up it quickly, letting her rifle dangle by the strap. The fog was cold and wet against her skin, and she slipped from the opening, moving several feet away and crouching on one knee, taking up her rifle once more as Tec followed. She saw nothing but gray mist and shadows; even the night sky was obscured. The full moon glowed through the haze but couldn't penetrate it. At best, she could see only ten or so feet around her.

  Beyond that, she saw only the dark shadows of the others as the elves and hobgoblins spread out. They were in the hills to the south of Imperial Beach, she knew, surrounded by brush and desert vegetation. She heard a generator, but its sound was muted and distant.

  Then the guns fired again, causing her to jerk in surprise. The flash of the cannon fire cut through the fog surprisingly close, much closer than she had realized they would be. She heard a whistling diminishing in intensity as the shells traveled through the air, followed by the booming of detonation and the flash of the explosions in the ruins of Imperial Beach. Elves probably just died, she thought morosely. She glanced at Tec beside her. In the fog, she could just make out the shine of his eyes.

  Soon, all the elves and hobgoblins had climbed from the tunnel and spread out around them. The warriors scanned their surroundings, no one making a sound, each elf ready for action. It was hard to make out individuals in the gloom, but she saw one tall elf motioning for the others to follow, and she guessed it was Prince Kilyn. Tec tugged on her sleeve, and she rose, staying at his side as they slipped across the hills. She had no way to judge direction but knew they were moving east toward the lower ground and the old airfield that had been marked on the map. According to Prince Kilyn's scouts, the Aztalans were using a still-standing hangar as a command center, but the artillery battery, six guns, had been placed separate of the camp to the west of the hangar.

  There should be no one between them and the guns.

  The ground sloped down as the elven prince led his force closer to their target. The elves spread out, with those carrying bows in the front. Tec reached out, gripped her shoulder tightly, and pulled her to a stop before pushing down on her shoulder. She took a knee, holding her breath and seeing that the other elves had also stopped and lowered themselves. The cannons fired again, and this time she saw they were closer, maybe only a couple hundred meters away, but in the flash of the cannon fire, she had seen forms moving through the fog, an Aztalan patrol, at least four or five men. If they raised the alarm now...

  The elves with the bows attacked first, releasing a volley of shafts at almost the exact same moment. The only sound was the release of bowstrings and the soft impact as the arrows tore through flesh, followed by a single weak whimper. The elves released another volley of arrows, and then there wasn’t even a whimper. Tec rose, pulling Angie to her feet. They moved forward once more, and after a dozen paces, Angie saw the corpses of the Aztalan soldiers lying in the fog, each with several arrow shafts jutting from throat or chest.

  Now Angie saw the abandoned remains of airport infrastructure through the fog. A vast colossus, the burned-out remains of a passenger jet, sat to their left. The guns fired again, much closer now, so close the sound of their firing made her bones shake. In the flash of the cannon fire, she saw the silhouette of the guns just ahead, and the shadows of the artillerymen operating them. There was even a large tent complex close to the guns, the ammunition depot.

  This was about to happen. She took a deep breath, readying herself for battle as the elves and hobgoblins spread out.

  Rayan Zar Davi stepped out of the old warehouse hangar that the battle group’s staff were using as a headquarters and stared in confusion at the fog that surrounded the old airfield. She had been within the hangar, overseeing the battle plans, for several hours and her back was stiff from standing, studying the maps or reading battle reports. She stalked toward the pair of sentries standing just outside the open hangar door. At her approach, both men snapped to attention, their gazes leveled straight ahead.

  "How long?" she demanded.

  "Mother," one of the men said, his voice filled with fear. "I ... what..."

  "How long
has this fog been here?" she snapped in irritation. "Calm down. It isn't your fault."

  "It began to settle about ten minutes ago, Mother. It came fast, from the north."

  "Not the sea?"

  "No, Mother. From the north."

  From Coronado Island. From Elenaril. What is the elven witch up to? She ran her palm over the hilt of her hexed pulwar, her thoughts racing. "Sound the general alarm," she told the man. "Rouse the quick reaction force. The enemy is attacking."

  The man's eyes widened. "But Mother—"

  Quick bursts of nearby gunfire cut the man off, followed by the screams of dying men. She drew her pulwar, the blade flashing. "Hurry, fool! Before they get away."

  Rayan stared at the muzzle flashes cutting through the fog just to the west. Where the artillery guns sat.

  "Damn," she whispered.

  Angie opened fire on the Aztalan soldiers operating the howitzers only moments after Tec and the others did. The thick fog cover had masked their approach, and they now formed a line facing the six cannons. The man Angie shot had been carrying a 105 mm howitzer shell, and he dropped it when her bullets ripped into him. For a heart-wrenching moment, she feared the shell would detonate, but of course it didn't. The timed fuses wouldn't activate until after the shell had been fired. The shell thudded onto the grassy terrain and rolled away.

  "Forward!" yelled Prince Kilyn, and Angie and the others advanced, shooting as they walked forward in line, moving from one gun to another and clearing it of Aztalan soldiers. It felt like an eternity but was likely only a couple of minutes before they had reached the last 105 mm howitzer and the remaining Aztalan soldiers fled into the fog. Not a single elf or hobgoblin was hurt.

  "Be wary of a counterattack!" Tec warned, but the Phoenix Guard elves were already securing their surroundings, aiming their rifles outward.

  Prince Kilyn sent two sections of men to accompany six of the hobgoblins to the large tent complex a hundred meters behind the guns. The six hobgoblins carried explosive charges, homemade incendiary bombs. At the same time, Tunwak and her other hobgoblins carried identical explosive charges to each of the artillery pieces, placing them in the open breeches at the rear of the weapons.

  "Fire in the hole!" Tunwak yelled as she set the fuse. Sparks flew from the long cord as the fuse burned. Tunwak moved quickly away from the gun. Seconds later, the incendiary charge in the breech flared with a brilliant red glow that was so intense Angie had to cover her eyes and look away. When she could glance back, she saw the metal around the breech was red-hot and dripping.

  "Not using these again anytime soon," Tec said from beside her.

  "We should move," she said. "This is going too well."

  "Don't jinx—"

  Tec's words were cut off by screams of pain from the ammunition tent.

  Angie's head whipped about as the elves and hobgoblins sent to burn the ammunition depot fled, pursued by a dark cloud that seemed alive. "What the hell?" A moment later she understood: it wasn't a cloud but a swarm of insects. "Magic!" she called out.

  Gunfire cut down a handful of the elves running from the swarm as well as several of the hobgoblins. Muzzle flashes flared from the fog opposite the fleeing men, and Angie saw shapes emerge from the darkness, Aztalan soldiers advancing in a line—the enemy counterattack Tec had warned of. Angie, Tec, and the others opened fire, shooting at the muzzle flashes, but it was clear they were badly outnumbered. The air cracked with the passage of bullets, and dirt erupted around them as the rounds hit. The Shade King created another shield in front of Angie, protecting her from a bullet, but the others had no shades to save them, and more of the assault force dropped, cut down by a storm of bullets. The shadows formed into men as scores of Aztalan soldiers rushed forward.

  "Everyone back to the tunnel!" Prince Kilyn yelled. "Move!"

  The assault force pulled back, half firing at the advancing enemy while the other half moved under cover. Even in retreat, the Phoenix Guard discipline was superb, but the enemy pushed forward. Maybe they were angry at the attack on their guns. Maybe they were driven by fear of their commanders. Either way, the orderly retreat fell apart under the intense contact. Angie saw a hobgoblin stumble and fall, his arm torn open by a bullet. Several Aztalan soldiers rushed forward to finish him. Angie took aim at them, but they were too close to the wounded hobgoblin for her to risk a shot. Then, as if rising from the fog, Tunwak appeared among them, cutting at them with her twin fighting knives in a remarkable display of savagery. In moments, two Aztalan soldiers were dead and the others were on the defensive. Two more hobgoblins joined Tunwak and picked up their wounded comrade. All the while, Tunwak kept the enemy back, screaming insults at them. They are dangerous, Angie realized. She and Tec rushed forward to help, emptying their magazines in the direction of the enemy so Tunwak could disengage.

  "We need to move," Tec yelled to Tunwak.

  She turned, her eyes wild, and opened her mouth to answer, but before she could say anything, a red cord of magical energy flashed out of the darkness and wrapped around her throat. A mage! Before Angie could take a step to help, the mage yanked back on the ribbon of red light, severing Tunwak's head. Her body remained upright for a moment, spewing blood, before it toppled over. A figure stepped out of the fog, the whip of magical energy snapping back. It was a woman, and in her hand, she held a curved sword. Angie froze in fear, remembering feeling that sword being driven through her own chest. It was Rayan Zar Davi.

  When the woman saw Angie, her eyes widened in recognition. She drew back her magical whip and sent it cracking at Angie's neck. Angie cast Shutter and transported herself ten feet to the right. Davi's magical whip cracked over empty air. Angie dropped her assault rifle and drew Nightfall. There was only one way to fight a shaded mage: with a hexed blade. The occult symbols along Nightfall's blue blade glowed with arcane energy.

  Then one of the hobgoblins rushed at Davi, firing a shotgun. The other woman's shade created a shield, protecting her, and before the hobgoblin could fire again, she lashed out with her curved sword, cutting his throat open. More bullets struck at Davi, ricocheting from another shield in a shower of sparks, and Angie saw Tec advancing on her, his rifle in his shoulder. But scores more Aztalan soldiers were coming than she could count, and several of them held bared swords. More mages.

  We can't stay, not even to kill that bitch. Angie cast Shutter again, flashing to appear just to the side of Tec. She gripped his arm with her free hand. "We need to go. Now!"

  His gaze went from her face to Davi’s and then to the approaching soldiers. The other elves and hobgoblins were gone. He glared in hatred at his longtime foe.

  "Stay, Jaguar Knight," Davi called out in a mocking voice. Then she raised her hand, and another swarm of insects raced toward Angie and Tec.

  Tec spun, grabbing Angie's wrist and pulling her with him as they ran.

  The first of the insects swept over them, biting and stinging, but a moment later, an explosion tore through the ammunition tents, and Davi's insects turned into drops of blood, falling about Angie and Tec as they ran. In the darkness, she had no idea where she was going, but Tec kept his grip on her wrist, pulling her along with him. Before she even realized where they were, they were back at the open trapdoor, surrounded by the surviving elves and hobgoblins, barely half of the original assault force. Angie's lungs felt as if they would climb out her throat.

  "Hurry," the prince urged.

  Another explosion shook the night, followed by two more as the depot burned, chasing away the fog and the dusk. They dropped into the tunnel and hurried back the way they had come. They had succeeded but at a terrible cost.

  And now Rayan Zar Davi was here.

  Chapter 17

  Tec shook Angie awake.

  She stared at his face in confusion for several moments, still half-asleep. Looking about, she saw they were still in the ruins of an Imperial Beach office complex that the elves had turned into a command bunker. It was dark outside, and a single lantern bur
ned weakly atop the large wooden table upon which the elves had piled maps of Imperial Beach. Prince Kilyn stood at the table, softly conversing with a half dozen of his advisers. Other elves moved about the boardroom, waking the others who, like her, had lain down in exhaustion for an hour or so of sleep.

  "What ... what's wrong?" she asked Tec, her words slurred.

  She had been exhausted when she had curled up on this old couch just after midnight. Angie bolted upright, her fingers brushing against the glass rose talisman she wore around her neck. She must have slept, but she remembered nothing, not a single dream, which must mean that the talisman did protect her from Aernyx. Thank you, Elenaril.

  "It's okay," Tec said softly. His green eyes shone in the dim lighting. "We're not in danger, at least not in immediate danger."

  She stood, finding herself swaying for a moment, but she rested her hand on the small of his back, pulling him against her. "Are we going out again, another ambush?" She hoped not. What she really wanted was another three or four hours of sleep. God, she was tired. Had he slept at all? She glanced at her father’s battered old watch. It was just after four twenty a.m.

  He shook his head. "No, but something weird is going on, and I thought maybe you could help."

  More warriors were coming into the boardroom and taking up positions around the large table. Many of the elves wore bloodied bandages over fresh wounds. With the artillery guns destroyed, the elves had begun defending Imperial Beach far more aggressively, making the Aztalans pay a steep price in blood for every foot north they tried to move. They had even used the network of hobgoblin tunnels to strike the enemy’s rear in several key locations, causing confusion among the enemy and stalling the Aztalan advance. She hadn't fought since the raid on the guns but felt as though she had gone days without real sleep.