Firestorm

by William Stacey

  "If she fails," Muluc continued, "she will die in this armor."

  "I will not fail."

  Now the final battle couldn't come soon enough.

  Chapter 46

  Just after three p.m., the enemy attacked.

  Angie stood on the walls with Tec as the Aztalan army advanced from all directions. Bullets cracked overhead, but she was in no danger; the Shade King would protect her. Rowan knelt nearby, using binoculars to scan the terrain surrounding the city. This time, Wyn Renna remained in the headquarters in City Hall, the egg with her for safekeeping. The defenders waited until the enemy had closed to within two hundred meters and then opened fire, bringing the attack to a crawl. They had been resupplied, but the ammunition would only last so long, especially when fighting on all sides.

  Rowan keyed his microphone—the Seagraves had taken the liberty of "borrowing" more tactical radios from Tec's stash—and Angie, listening in on her own earpiece, heard Rowan's instructions. "Casey, Erin, you two in position?"

  "Roger," Jay replied, all business. Jay was with Erin somewhere on the wall, acting as her spotter.

  "Roger dodger," Casey replied.

  "Okay, little brother, pop up and draw some attention."

  "Commencing first gun run," Casey replied in a bored tone.

  She spun about as the Blackhawk rose into the air and shot forward, passing twenty feet overhead before banking and lining up on his target, one of the assault groups. Casey opened fire with the Gatling gun, cutting apart scores of Aztalan soldiers and sending others scurrying for cover.

  Almost immediately, two of the heavy machine gun positions opened fire, sending streams of red tracers at the helicopter. Casey spun in place, turning the aircraft's nose and releasing one of his hellfire missiles before banking once more and flying back into the city, dropping out of sight behind the walls. His missile detonated in the far woods, at least three hundred meters away, near where Angie had seen some of the tracers originating. If Casey had hit a machine gun position in the split second he had had to aim before ducking back again behind the wall, then he really was as good as he bragged.

  "Target identified," Jay said. "Engaging."

  "Come on," Tec said, peering over the wall.

  A moment later, Angie heard the loud detonation of a heavy-caliber weapon, the 50-caliber anti-materiel rifle Erin had brought along. Seconds later, they heard another gunshot, followed moments later by a third.

  "Got it. She's got the gun," Jay said over the radio, this time with a trace of excitement in his voice. "I think maybe Casey hit the other with his missile. Pretty good shooting for a first time."

  Erin, Angie knew, was aiming for the heavy machine guns themselves, trying to destroy them—and even a glancing hit with a 50-caliber bullet would do the job.

  "Don't get cocky," Rowan admonished. "And don't take unnecessary chances, Casey. You're a much bigger target than they are."

  "You're not wrong," Casey said in his bored tone. "Took some light damage to the air frame on that go, but she's still airworthy... I hope."

  "Okay," Rowan said. "Jay, you and Erin move to the eastern wall, find a shooting angle, and we'll go again in ten."

  "On it," Jay answered.

  Angie rested her hand on Tec's shoulder. "This is going surprisingly well."

  "That's what bothers me. No plan ever works out once the shooting starts."

  She snorted, smiling despite the death around them. "I'd hardly call this idea a 'plan.' More like an act of desperation."

  They only needed to take out a few more of the gun positions, and then Casey could concentrate his attack runs on the enemy's main thrust, the assault on the breached gates along the southern wall. Tec, Rowan, and Wyn Renna had already concluded that this was where the enemy would focus their efforts. Angie was certain they were right. There had to be at least two Aztalan brigades moving forward, with another two in support to the rear to exploit a breakthrough.

  They couldn't allow a breakthrough.

  All too soon, Jay radioed in that he and Erin were in position along the eastern wall. Rowan keyed his handset. "Casey, show them your big ass again."

  The radio beeped. "That's just mean." Then the Blackhawk's engine whined as the aircraft took off again from Veteran's Square. Casey shot out over the city, flying straight for the eastern wall. The moment he cleared the wall, he opened fire with his Gatling gun. From their position along the southern wall, Angie and Tec could see very little, but they heard the whine of the Gatling gun.

  When Jay's voice came over the radio again, there was a hint of excitement in it. "Okay, bro, we've located the gun. Get out of there. I think you're trailing smoke."

  "Trailing more than smoke," Casey answered calmly. "Got a warning alarm. I think I'm good though. Just need to put her down for a look-see."

  Angie stood on tiptoes, her pulse racing as the helicopter banked to come around and return to the city. Jay had been correct. The aircraft was trailing a thin line of smoke. She had no idea how serious it was, but any smoke couldn't be a good thing. And then she heard screams of alarm coming from others along the wall. She spun about.

  "Dragon!" someone yelled, the word sending a dart of fear through her heart.

  Dropping out of the sun was a large dark shape—the black dragon Itzpapalotl, the same monster that had razed Coronado and killed Quetzalcoatl.

  Defenders opened fire, but there was no way a bullet could hurt such an armored beast. It breathed fire on the city, burning an entire block of buildings before altering course and flying right at Casey's helicopter.

  "Evade, evade!" Rowan yelled into his radio.

  But there was no chance. The clawed talons of the dragon's forelegs ripped through the Blackhawk's tail rotor assembly, the blades snapping off. The Blackhawk spun, trailing a thick plume of black smoke. It was going to crash just outside the city walls.

  "Well, shit," was Casey’s only transmission.

  She never saw the helicopter hit, but she heard it, saw the smoke rising behind the eastern wall.

  "No!" Angie screamed in anguish, her heart shrinking. She took three running steps along the wall before Tec caught her, wrapping his arms around her and bringing her down, covering her with his body. She was furious with him—until she saw the dragon flying along the wall toward them, fire blossoming from its throat.

  Flames washed over them.

  Rayan Zar Davi wasn't expecting her mistress's arrival, but she recognized the opportunity the dragon's surprise appearance had given her. As the dragon's fire swept over the southern wall, the gunfire directed at her lead brigades ceased. Burning humans fell from the walls, screaming before striking the ground. The beautiful black dragon beat her wings, gaining altitude and turning for another strike.

  "Advance!" Rayan yelled, drawing her pulwar and pointing it toward the broken gates. "Kill everyone save the elf bitch."

  None of them would recognize Wyn Renna, she knew, but it didn't matter. This time, protected by her new jacket, she’d be among the first in the city, allowing only a single company to go ahead of her and soak up any attacks. Rayan charged forward, safe in the knowledge that her shade would protect her from any mundane threat while the armored jacket would protect her from mages with hexed weapons.

  She was invincible.

  Chapter 47

  Angie didn't burn. Neither did Tec, Rowan, and a handful of others who had been lucky enough to be near Angie. The Shade King shielded Angie and everyone in her proximity. Sadly, scores of defenders weren't so lucky and had died in fire. The flames continued to burn along a long swath of the southern wall. Charred bodies lay everywhere, the stench horrific.

  Tec rolled off Angie and pulled her to her feet, his eyes wild with concern.

  "It's okay. I'm okay," she said.

  "We need to get away from the wall," he said as he maintained his grip on her upper arm. "It might come back."

  The black dragon was turning, beating its wings as it readied to move against the easter
n wall, where Jay and Erin had taken up a firing position. The damned dragon had killed Casey, and now it was going to kill Erin and Jay. She heard an enthusiastic roar coming from the Aztalan soldiers as they rushed for the now undefended gates in the southern wall. The city would fall. There was nothing anyone could do to stop it now.

  Her helplessness and desperation battled with her building rage. She yanked her arm free of Tec's grasp.

  Everyone would die.

  The dragon leveled out and began to descend for its fiery attack along the eastern wall.

  "We need to pull back to city hall," Tec said, seeing the first of the enemy reach the gates.

  "No," she said quietly, glaring at the dragon, at the oncoming horde of Aztalan soldiers. "No more running."

  YOU ARE READY, the Shade King spoke, a hint of pride in its voice.

  Angie extended her arms to the sides, her palms up. She closed her eyes, casting out her life-sense ability, focusing on the first of the Aztalan soldiers now rushing inside the gate. There must have been a hundred of them, an entire company, with hundreds more waiting to get inside and begin the slaughter. A part of her felt pity for them. Maybe some didn't want to be here; some must have been forced here by the Tzitzime. But forced or not, they were here. They had made their choice, and she wasn't going to let them bloody their hands on the hearts of her friends.

  This was her city.

  DRINK, SOURCE MAGE. FILL YOURSELF.

  From a distance, she took their lives. First those closest, and then the next dozen and then the next dozen. They fell where they ran, and their life force flowed into her, swelling her with mana. It should have been like drinking from a fire hose, but she easily took it all in. She was a vessel that couldn’t be filled. When her eyes flashed open, at least a hundred Aztalan soldiers lay dead, piled up at the gates below. Tec and Rowan stared at her in wonder ... and fear, their mouths open.

  Do they see a monster?

  She was what she was.

  Flames erupted over her body, a sheet of fire that should have consumed her but didn't. They were her flames, the Shade King's flames. As atop Lodin’s tower, her clothing flash incinerated. Her side-sword, the leather burned away this time, clattered to the battlements. Rowan and Tec staggered back, their hands in front of their faces.

  THE DRAGON ONLY THINKS IT IS A CREATURE OF FIRE. TEACH THE WYRM ITS MISTAKE. RISE NOW ON WINGS OF FIRE—RISE, SOURCE MAGE.

  And she did. Her arms extended, fire swirling about her, Angie rose into the air and flew toward the dragon.

  Dark storm clouds appeared, rolling in from a previously cloudless sky. Her winds buffeted the dragon, knocking it away from the eastern wall before it could breathe fire. The dragon's wings beat madly as it fought the winds, turning to face the burning Angie. She drew lightning bolts from the sky, sending them arcing into the dragon.

  It screamed in rage.

  And pain.

  And then came at Angie.

  Rayan was close enough behind the lead company to see them fall but far enough away to avoid whatever foul magic had killed them. The soldiers with her, hundreds still, slowed their advance, staring in confusion at the corpses. Fear twisted Rayan's gut as she moved among the dead men. There wasn't a mark on any of them… Angela Ritter, she thought in horror. She did this. I don't know how but—

  When she saw a small human form encased in flames, arms outstretched, rise into the air and fly toward the black dragon, Rayan's blood ran cold. Impossibly, dark storm clouds roiled in the sky, with lightning flashing down. The dragon roared as lightning struck it, outlining its massive bulk in arcane fury. The dragon and burning figure—Angela Ritter, she somehow knew—joined in battle, a battle the likes of which no one had ever seen.

  But Rayan had her own battle to wage. She inhaled deeply, faced the gates, and prepared herself, her pulwar in hand. "Forward," she yelled. "Take the city."

  Her soldiers remained fixed in place, staring up at the supernatural battle in the sky. It was like watching gods fight.

  Rage surged in Rayan's heart. She had to capture Wyn Renna, or she'd die for sure. Her mistress was on her own. Rayan screamed in fury, lashing out at the closest soldiers with both pulwar and blood-whip spell. Her pulwar cut the head from one of the soldiers, and her red whip of arcane energy sliced through a man's arm just above the elbow. Blood sprayed in Rayan's face, all over her beautiful dragon-scale jacket.

  But she had their attention. They stared at her in fear.

  "I said, take the city!"

  They hesitated only a moment. When Rayan raised her bloody pulwar again, they ran past her, screaming as they charged into the city. No matter what happened in the sky, this centuries-long secret war ended today.

  Atop the wall, Tec watched in stunned silence as Angie, wreathed in flames, unleashed a firestorm against the dragon, battling it with fire, wind, and lightning. And the dragon lashed out at her with wing, claw, and flames, but each time the dragon struck, a brilliant golden sphere of energy flared around Angie, protecting her. It was the single most amazing thing he had ever seen in all his long life—and he had served a great dragon for much of it.

  Rowan, standing beside him, turned and looked wide-eyed at Tec. "How ... did you...?"

  "No," Tec whispered, transfixed by the battle. Chain lightning flashed down from the dark clouds, striking the dragon and sending tendrils of electrical energy coursing around one of its wings. "I didn't, and I don't know how. I knew she was special. That's why Lodin wanted her, but..."

  Rowan gripped Tec's arm and pulled it hard. Tec turned and followed the other man's gaze as hundreds of Aztalan soldiers surged into the city. They fanned out and began shooting indiscriminately. Others broke through doors and charged inside homes. Screams of panic rose from the buildings they burst into.

  And among the soldiers, leading a small group of them, was Rayan Zar Davi. She wore a blue-green leather jacket of some kind and carried her hexed pulwar. She ignored the carnage and led her soldiers in the direction of Veteran's Square and the City Hall.

  Where Wyn Renna guarded the egg.

  "We have to stop her," Tec said.

  "Let's go."

  Both men took off at a run, heading for the stairs down from the wall.

  Chapter 48

  The pain in Casey's skull woke him.

  His eyes flashed open. He was sitting in his cockpit, still strapped to his pilot's seat, but the windshield was shattered, a web of cracks running through it. The air was acrid, filled with smoke and toxic fumes. Something dripped down the side of his face. He raised a hand to touch his face, and the fingertips came away bloody.

  He had crashed.

  The sudden realization surged through him, filled him with purpose. The Blackhawk was burning. If he didn't get out—right this god damned moment—he’d burn with it, werewolf or not. Now through the webbed windshield, he saw figures advancing—Aztalan soldiers! Of course Aztalan soldiers were coming to finish him off. It made perfect sense. Bullets ricocheted from the armored side panels that protected the cockpit.

  "Fuck my life," he said as he hit the harness release and freed himself from his armored seat.

  He scrambled over to the copilot's seat, the side of the aircraft facing the city wall, and used both feet to kick out the emergency pop-out window in the cockpit door. He hesitated only long enough to snatch the bug-out bag behind the copilot's seat and then scrambled out of his downed aircraft through the window, pulling the small backpack with him.

  He had loaded the bug-out bag himself from Tec's supplies: a 9mm sub-gun and a half dozen magazines of ammunition, two hand grenades—because fuck it, when weren’t grenades fun?—as well as a handheld tac-radio. Bullets continued to crack overhead as the Aztalan soldiers shot at the downed aircraft. The aircraft smoldered but wasn't yet on fire as he had first feared, but there was no other cover anywhere nearby, so he put the wrecked tail assembly between himself and the approaching enemy and pulled out the sub-gun.

  It had gotten da
rk somehow, with storm clouds roiling above. He looked up. "What the fuck?"

  When lightning flared, illuminating the dragon battling some fiery … thing, he almost forgot where he was and what he was doing—until a hail of gunfire from the Aztalans struck around him, reminding him to focus on his own problems.

  There should have been a hundred or more defenders on the eastern wall firing into the attackers, but he guessed they had fled before the dragon could come back ... which, while unfortunate for him, was entirely understandable. He inserted a magazine into the sub-gun just as an Aztalan soldier, a heavyset bearded man, ran through the smoke, coming right at him with an assault rifle raised to fire. Casey drew back the bolt on his sub-gun, but before the Aztalan could fire, his entire upper body exploded into red mist. Casey heard the boom of a heavy-caliber weapon—Erin. It had to be Erin. She and Jay had been on the eastern wall behind him. His brother and sister were still there, still covering him. "Thank you, sis," he said.

  As the next two soldiers ran forward, Casey put them both down with bursts of 9 mm fire. But a lot more were coming. Another soldier exploded into mist, and the man beside him fell back, his head shattered by a smaller but no less lethal assault rifle bullet—Jay, he imagined.

  Casey snatched at the tac radio and turned it on. It came to life with a beep and a hiss. "Erin, that you?" he asked, using the preset channel they had chosen for their communications. He held the walkie-talkie-type radio against his face with one hand while he fired his sub-gun with the other, dropping two more enemy soldiers.

  The radio beeped in his ear. "Get the hell out of there. We'll cover," Erin ordered, her voice tinged with fear.

  He didn't like hearing the fear in her voice. She deserved better than worrying about old soldiers like him. He fired again, dropping another soldier and sending others scurrying for cover. His weapon was empty, so he calmly inserted another mag and then keyed his radio. "No can do, kiddo. Nowhere to go."