Firestorm

by William Stacey

  "Sure. Give me a second." She plopped back on the couch and bent over, tying the laces on her boots. "I don't suppose there's coffee."

  He sighed. "There's bread and water, maybe some cold porridge."

  She groaned as she stood up, his hand taking her elbow and guiding her to the others around the table. The elves made room for them, even nodding in greeting. Elves were notoriously xenophobic, distrusting even some of the Fey races. Humans they detested—most of the time. But she and Tec had fought beside them all day and had earned their respect. And they had rescued Wyn Renna, the daughter of the queen. That meant much to the elves.

  Prince Kilyn glanced at one of the elves wearing the dark clothing of a scout. "Report."

  "My prince, the same activity has been observed all along the forward edge of the battle area in Imperial Beach. The Aztalans are pulling back, ceding the battlefield to us."

  A palpable thrill went through those standing around the table, including Angie. "We've won?" she asked in disbelief.

  "We don't know," the prince answered. "We have inflicted severe losses on the Aztalans but barely a fraction of what we estimated they had available to send against us."

  "The cowardly humans have no stomach for a real fight," one of the elves said then blanched. "Sorry, daughter of Chararah Succubus, Jaguar Knight. I meant no—"

  Tec cut him off with a wave of his hand. "No apology needed." He turned to the prince. "This makes no sense. The dragon won't care about losses among her human servants. As far as Itzpapalotl is concerned, those Aztalan soldiers are nothing more than tools to be discarded. She wants your sister, and she won't stop until she gets her."

  "I agree," the prince said. "So why are they pulling back? It makes no sense. Even with their losses, even without their cannons, they still have more than enough soldiers. Eventually, we’d have to withdraw. They must know this."

  Angie leaned forward, staring at the map of San Diego. Her finger trailed over the Bay Bridge to the north. "Could they be moving around us, perhaps trying to take the bridge and cut off the civilian retreat?"

  "No, Mistress Ritter," the scout replied. "We'd know. They'd have to move more than fifteen kilometers through the ruins of Chula Vista and National City, and we’d have seen them."

  Prince Kilyn sighed wearily. He reached out and pointed to the land between Chula Vista and National City, resting on the Sweetwater Channel, a wide waterway that separated the two ruins. "I wish they would try to go around us. We've placed explosive charges on the banks of the channel. The Azzies would need to swim home."

  "Maybe they weren't expecting such a vigorous defense," an elf said.

  "A tactical pullback," another added. "Just long enough to reorganize and try again."

  "If so, then it's a welcome development," the prince said thoughtfully.

  "I don't think so," said Tec. "This is something new." He glanced at Angie. "Any thoughts?"

  She pursed her lips, staring at the map. The Aztalan forces had been held south of Imperial Beach Boulevard running east to west, a kilometer or more south of the Silver Strand and the main elvish defensive positions. "And we’re certain they're ceding the city?" she asked. "Pulling back south?"

  The scout nodded. "Yes, mistress. Throughout all of Imperial Beach."

  A heavy weight settled in Angie’s gut. This didn't feel like victory. "They're up to something."

  "Magic of some type?" Tec asked.

  She sighed. "I know two spells, neither of which would be of any use here. The Tzitzime all know more spells than I do." She looked at the prince. "So do your mages. If you don't have any idea, neither do I."

  Tec leaned forward as he examined the map. "Something is going to happen, something we aren't going to like."

  Angie met the prince's eyes. "You wanted my advice, so here it is. Pull your forces out of Imperial Beach. Draw back to your defensive positions along the Silver Strand."

  The faces of the elves reflected their unease. A chorus of angry mutters swept around the table. The prince raised his hand, cutting them off. "Pull back? Cede the ruins? We've fought so hard to keep the Aztalans out. Why give up our advantage now?"

  "Because it isn't an advantage," Angie said. "They don't care about Imperial Beach and never have. Nor do they care about Coronado Island."

  "What then?" Prince Kilyn asked.

  "Your sister." She stared into his too-large and oddly shaped purple eyes. "They're not going to stop until they get her back. They're not going away. They haven't been beaten. And if you're certain they're not trying to go around us, then assume they have other plans. Whatever those plans are, they want us here—in these ruins. Why?"

  "I ... I don't know," the prince answered unhappily. "My people have fought so hard to hold them back."

  "Angie's right," Tec said. "Whatever they're doing, if they want us here, then this is the last place we should be."

  "Pull back," Angie said. "Do it now while you still can."

  She felt their angry eyes on her and knew the mood among the elves was turning ugly, but she was certain they couldn't stay here anymore. But Prince Kilyn was never going to cede the ruins his people had fought so hard for.

  What are they planning?

  Cloaked in night, Itzpapalotl flew low over the white-tipped waves of the Pacific Ocean. She had left her lair in Baja California hours earlier, flying west over the ocean before turning north so that she could come at her enemies from the sea, where they wouldn’t be expecting a threat. If any of the other great dragons still lived, leaving her lair would have been dangerous, even for her, but Quetzalcoatl had been the last, and she certainly didn't fear elves. What did worry her was that some might escape her wrath.

  Itzpapalotl was in a mood for slaughter.

  She turned east, seeing the high cape of land that had once been called Point Loma. She flashed past the cape and the lighthouse that still stood on its summit. Coronado Island sat just ahead, and she began to beat her powerful wings, gaining speed as she headed for her target. When she saw Elenaril's palace, she dove, the air whistling past. At a hundred meters out, she breathed fire, flash incinerating the gardens and setting the palace aflame. The heat was majestic as she soared past, smoke and fire trailing behind her. She beat her wings to gain altitude and come around again. As she dove on the burning palace, she heard the screams of elves like music in the night. She breathed fire on those trying to flee, setting the woods near the palace on fire.

  What joy! She had missed battle.

  The fires glowed against her black scales as she soared over the burning palace. Was Elenaril burning? She hoped so. She saw movement to her right as an entire flock of rocs took to the air.

  Finally, some sport.

  She went after the birds. The rocs—stupid creatures—flew in formation, traveling no faster than the slowest bird. They’re making this too easy. She breathed fire on them from behind, setting at least half of them on fire before they even realized their mistake. Now the survivors broke apart, attempting to flee in different directions, but it was far too late for such a tactic. She used her clawed talons to catch and rip the individual birds to pieces, enjoying their shrieks of pain. Several she caught in her jaws, ripping into them with her swordlike teeth, tasting blood and feathers.

  After devouring the final bird, she turned north, heading for the Bay Bridge. She made a pass over the length of the bridge. When the humans had fled the island, they had left their vehicles jammed bumper to bumper across the entire length of the bridge. Itzpapalotl saw only a handful of elves present. So, most of the cowardly elves, their women and children, have already fled … pity. She banked and came back, this time breathing fire along the entire length of the bridge, setting all the old vehicles on fire and killing any elf that remained. Those vehicles would burn for hours, maybe days. No one else would use that bridge to escape.

  She turned south, heading for Imperial Beach.

  The elven army had thought itself safe in the ruins, but they were very much mi
staken. Black death was coming for them.

  Chapter 18

  The queen's palace burned.

  Angie watched as the revelation spread through the elven army, and wails of anguish rose into the night. Prince Kilyn had reluctantly agreed to pull back from Imperial Beach after all, and the elves marched out of the ruins and toward the line of trenches built across the Silver Strand. Hundreds of elven warriors were clustered at the northern edge of the ruins, staring in wide-eyed disbelief at the fire to the north … their home.

  Angie stood beside Tec, watching the night sky glowing red. "It's the dragon, isn't it? Itzpapalotl?"

  Tec's face tightened with worry, and he grabbed Angie's arm, pulling her along with him as he broke into a trot. "We have to hurry. If she catches us in the open..."

  The elven army had fortified the southern end of the Silver Strand, a kilometer of open scrubland that had once been a naval training base and was now interlocking rows of sandbag-protected trenches. The tightly packed ruins of Imperial Beach came to the edge of the cleared land, separated only by roads running east to west. The remains of the old Silver Strand Boulevard, a four-lane highway, ran along the eastern edge of the defensive positions north toward Coronado Island.

  "Get down!" Tec yelled, pulling Angie to the ground with him.

  The air shrieked with the passage of something huge overhead, followed by the roaring of fire. Heat beat upon her as a gout of bright-orange fire swept past, burning a score of elven warriors who had been following them. Angie held her breath, her heart pounding with terror, as a huge black dragon swept past, still breathing fire.

  Tec hauled her to her feet and pushed her forward once more toward the trenches and what little safety they might provide. The inferno behind them pushed at them, with even the air hurting her lungs. But then they were at the nearest trench, and Tec hauled her into it with him. There were other elves here. The trench was packed with them, each staring with horror as the dragon burned Imperial Beach. Angie peered over the lip of the trench, watching the dragon breathe fire in a seemingly never-ending torrent. Thick black smoke darkened the night sky.

  "My God," she whispered in wonder. "If the army was still there…"

  The elves shot at the dragon, but the gunfire accomplished nothing. The dragon banked, swept over the ruins of Imperial Beach once more, and breathed more fire. The heat was staggering, like staring into the depths of hell. No more of the elves made it out of the ruins, and soon the only living creature was the dragon as it swept through the smoke over the city.

  "How do you fight something like that?" Angie asked.

  Prince Kilyn and a handful of his officers joined them, having made their way along the interlocking trench line. Soot darkened the elven prince's features. He knelt beside Tec and Angie, his face somber. "If not for you, we’d all have been caught in that inferno."

  Tec squeezed the prince's shoulder. "Nothing you could have done. No one can fight a monster like that."

  "I had no idea," the elf said, horror in his voice as the dragon soared over the burning ruins of Imperial Beach, breathing more fire. "No idea."

  "How many warriors do you have?" Tec asked.

  "Less than five hundred," the prince said, his voice filled with guilt and pain. "Enough to hold ... for now. But if that beast comes against us here in the trenches..."

  "We're not safe here," an adviser, a grizzled warrior with a scar on her chin, said.

  "I think it's leaving," Angie said. She pointed at the dragon, now rising into the sky, its wings beating as it gained altitude and flew south. In moments, it was gone from sight, leaving only the burning ruins of Imperial Beach in its wake.

  "Damn that horror," the prince said.

  "That’s why men called them the Twin Deaths," Tec said morosely. He rubbed his eyes and sighed wearily. "What do we know?"

  "It hit the palace first," the prince said. "And then the bridge."

  "The bridge?" Angie asked in surprise. "Why the bridge?"

  "To cut off our retreat," Tec answered. "Is your mother..."

  The prince shook his head. "The palace had been mostly abandoned. Neither Mother nor my sister was there. I don't know if they were on the bridge, but I pray not."

  "I'm sure they're safe," Angie said, trying to will confidence she didn’t feel into her voice.

  Prince Kilyn nodded, his expression grim. He put his back to the trench and the inferno that had been Imperial Beach. "Because of you, we still hold the strand, our main defensive position. And with the ruins burning, there's no way the Aztalan army will be able to come at us, not for hours yet, not until the fires burn out."

  One of the elven officers pointed to the north, where the island burned. "My prince, with the bridge burning, how will we pull the army back?"

  "When the fire subsides and the bridge cools, we'll be able to cross. As much of a disaster as this appears, the dragon’s fire stops the enemy as well."

  "I wouldn't be so sure of that," Tec said. "Itzpapalotl is crafty."

  "We're safe for now," the prince insisted.

  Angie turned and looked north, where the fires glowed red in the night sky. She prayed the prince was right.

  The prince was wrong.

  When the attack began, Angie was asleep, curled up against the wooden boards of the trench. Her first warning that something was wrong was the screams of the dying. She bolted upright, her mind racing, to see Tec standing beside her, peering out of the trench. All along the trench line, elves were crying out in alarm as the defenders struggled to understand what was happening. She peered over the sandbags atop the trench to see dozens of dark forms burst out of the smoke from the still-smoldering, still-too-hot Imperial Beach. Each of the shapes, pale and thin, sped impossibly fast at the trench, leaping the last distance to throw themselves among the defenders. Gunshots rang out, followed by the screams of dying elves.

  "Vampires!" Tec yelled, holding a machete he had found among the supplies in the trench. "We're under attack!"

  She staggered back, drawing Nightfall. These Fey had to be Aernyx's Night Kin, an entire clan of enemy vampires. Her fingers brushed the rose talisman around her neck. Where was Aernyx?

  Vicious hand-to-hand fighting broke out along the trench as the vampires attacked, having used the smoke to mask their approach. Pale forms sprinted across the open ground, some coming straight for her and Tec. She cast Shockwave, and her spell hammered into them, battering several back, but others leaped through the air and landed in the trench on either side of her and Tec. Tec roared in fury and swung at the closest vampire with his machete. He hit the vampire with so much force that his wide blade cut right through its neck, severing the head. As the vampire fell back, its body turned to ash.

  Angie put her back to Tec's as more vampires came at them. The vampire attacking her, a young woman with long blond hair, clawed at her face with long, sharp nails. The Shade King protected her with a shield, and a shower of red sparks fell. Angie, unable to hack with Nightfall, did the best she could, using the thin, quick weapon to cut at the vampire. The vampire screamed in fury, her eyes wild, and Angie rammed the point of Nightfall through her mouth, hoping to sever her spinal column. Her attack didn't kill the vampire, but it did force her back, away from Angie's blade.

  Elves fought and died all around them, but the elves—like all Fey—understood how to fight vampires and discarded their firearms to use sword and knife. Another vampire, a thin man, joined the one fighting Angie, both preparing to come at her together. Only the tight confines of the trench stopped them from swarming her and Tec. She knew Tec fought for his own life but couldn’t risk taking her attention away to look. Her shoulders ached, and sweat stung her eyes, but she focused on breathing, on fighting. She considered casting Shockwave again but feared she might deplete her mana, and then the Shade King wouldn’t be able to shield her.

  A horn blew, a long series of notes. She heard movement behind the trench line and heard Prince Kilyn’s voice yelling orders. The two va
mpires she fought hesitated, their eyes darting away from Angie. A moment later, the air cracked with the release of bowstrings, and arrows hammered into the hearts of both vampires. They fell into ash. Prince Kilyn and a dozen elves, all armed with longbows, stood behind the trench. The elves kept releasing arrows down into the trench, hitting vampires in the chest with unerring accuracy.

  Tec drew back, breathing heavily and nodding in thanks to the elven prince. "Sometimes the old ways are the best."

  "Hurry!" Prince Kilyn motioned for them to climb out of the trench. "I've ordered the retreat." Blood trailed down the side of his face and neck as he fit another arrow to his longbow.

  Tec linked his fingers together, forming a cup for Angie’s foot and then hoisting her up and over the lip of the trench. He paused only long enough to sling a pair of assault rifles and a bandolier of ammunition over his back.

  The elves with the longbows kept up a steady stream of arrows, killing as many vampires as they could. Angie eyed their quivers, doubting they had enough arrows. In Fresno, Ephix had hundreds of vampires, her children. Aernyx likely had as many.

  The vampires must have realized the elves were pulling back, because at least a score of them burst out of the trenches and rushed the elves. The elves released arrows into them, killing most, but at this close range, some shafts missed, and three vampires kept coming. Angie took a chance and cast Shockwave, knocking all three vampires to the ground, where the elves shot them. Her spell had been weaker this time. She was running low on mana again, but to feed the Shade King, she’d need to touch a vampire—and she didn’t want to take a chance like that.

  "Let's go," Tec yelled, pulling her along with him.

  Prince Kilyn and his escort covered their retreat north. All along the trench line, those elves who could fled the vampire assault, running north along the Silver Strand for safety. But there was no true safety now. With the bridge burning, they were trapped.

  Angie ran alongside Tec, who handed her one of the assault rifles. "What do we do?" she asked, her chest heaving. Behind her, she could only make out shapes in the darkness. Some of those shadows must be escaping elves, but others were vampires.