by J C Maynard
Out of breath, Kyan pleaded, “I- I have an urgent message f- for the government!”
“We can relay that message,” said a guard firmly.
“No, please, I must speak to them myself!”
“We cannot permit you to pass.”
Remembering to whom the Guard was really loyal, Kyan clenched his fists. If I say anything, they’ll lock me up. Kyan’s eyes narrowed and he spun away from the spears raised at him.
Leaping down the Palace steps, he stopped when he reached a square in the first district in the middle of which sat a fountain; he grabbed its edges and plunged his face in, gulping up frigid water. Throwing his long, wet hair back, a group of aristocrats stared at him with disgust. Little ice crystals formed in his hair as the early winter breeze gusted, sweeping leaves along the stone street. Kyan closed his eyes, leaning against the fountain and cursing. Treacherous inbreds. Kyan eyed two little boys around the fountain with toy swords dueling beside their jabbering mothers, mindless to the raging imaginary battle. Kyan jumped up, That’s it!
He tore down the street, shoving aside a man, and into the second district. Left. Kyan turned hard, knocking over a bread stand. Right. The thief jumped over a line of children. Third to the right. Kyan skidded to a stop long enough to burst through the door of a smithy.
A dirt covered, sweaty man yelled from far back in the shop. “Wha’you t’ink you’re doin’ boy!” He plunged a glowing sword in a barrel of water and removed his ragged gloves.
Kyan danced around the anvils and racks of weapons. “Sir!” he panted. “Please listen.”
The man raised a finger. “You betta ha’ some’in damn good to come bargin’ in like this young man. Is Mourn causin’ trouble again?”
Kyan stumbled forward, reaching a pocket of scorching air from a furnace. “Sir . . .” he swallowed, “the Cerebrians are attacking.”
The smith raised an eyebrow. “Uh . . . yeah; dey sure as hell is in Endlebarr; dey’ve been makin’ me rich.”
“NO!” yelled Kyan. “I’m sorry, no, I mean they are attacking Aunestauna!”
The smith looked out the glassless window in the brick wall and back to Kyan. “No dey isn’t.”
“TONIGHT! Tonight, sorry . . .” Kyan spun up an explanation. “A whole lot of fishermen, including my father, they saw the Cerebrians’ naval fleet in the inlet. They’re going to attack tonight.”
The man crossed his arms and sat on a stool, seeming to be focused on a bug on the dirt floor. “How many?”
“Probably twenty fishermen saw, but that’s not wha-”
“No, how many ships dem Cerebrians got?” asked the smith.
“Forty! But, listen; this city is in danger and because of reasons I can’t explain, I thin-”
“Dat’s a lot of ships.”
“Yes! I know! And we don’t have any army here, and the Guard isn’t able to defend us fro-”
“Why not?”
“Arg! It’s complicated! But if Aunestauna falls, we lose the war!”
“Wait,” said the smith, “if d’ere were twenty fishermen, why is you de only one telling me dis?”
“They are all off in the third district warning citizens! So I need all the help I can get from you. Do you know any other blacksmiths in town?” asked Kyan.
“Why, I know e’ry smith in dis district and probably a dozen in the t’ird!”
Kyan stamped his foot in relief. “Alright. I need you to warn every blacksmith, have them distribute their weapons and armor for free to civilians willing to fight. Warn everyone you can that the Cerebrians will attack toni-”
“Give our weapons away for no charge?”
“You yourself said you were already rich!”
Kyan continued. “You don’t have a choice, sir. There is no other way you will survive until tomorrow; do you understand?”
The smith thought hard. “I gotta feed my rabbit first and den I’ll be on my way. Dis betta damn pay off somehow, kid.”
Kyan shook his hand, “Thank you sir.”
“Wait, before you go.” The smith walked in a back room where he shouted, “You’re a skinny guy, but dis’ll fit ya.” He came back carrying a belt with a sheath and sword and passed it to Kyan, who took it like it was a glass vase. “Well if dey really are comin you need to go, kid!”
“Right, sorry, thank you sir. Tell everyone!” Kyan flew out the door as quickly as he came in but with a large sword sheathed to his side.
The baker in Kyan’s theatre square burst through the doors of The Little Raven, where Kyan was busy handing out knives to the bartenders and customers at the counter. “Mr. Kyan, sir!” he shouted. “I did like you told me to and went out to the city limits with my family to try an’ warn Camp Auness about t’e attack, Kyan. But t’e Guard was there and they tolds us to ‘go back into Aunestauna, t’ey isn’t lettin’ anybody use t’e roads,’ and nobody’s horse can go through the miles of corn and cotton fields to get there, ‘least not in a day’s time.”
Kyan swore; they were all fish in a net, but still beneath the surface of the water. Nine out of ten people had ignored him when Kyan had told them the Cerebrians were on their way, convinced he was crazed or somehow trying to get at their money. But a group of Ferrs who took heed to Kyan’s warnings had begun to gather, split, and grow again with more volunteers, filling several neighborhoods of Aunestauna with a ruckus of bells ringing, swords sheathing, and the crack of furniture jettisoned from windows to form barricades. The blacksmith had convinced only eight others to donate their weapons and armor to citizens to defend against a threat that could not yet be seen, but the supplies circled through the resistance force of Ferrs.
Kyan dumped the rest of the weapons on the counter and exited the tavern with the baker. Looking west at the setting sun between the buildings, Kyan nodded in approval at the size of the barricade gathered in the street, where buildings had been emptied and their contents piled on the cobblestone, forming a wall of tables, chairs, frames, and mattresses. A woman shouted at the people in the square that there were no Cerebrians and that they were all safe; no one listened.
Kyan shouted at the baker, “Grab that group of people by Arnday’s Apple and take them around telling people to fill as many barrels of water they can from the city wells; the Cerebrians are bound to try and burn this city to the ground.”
“Aye, Mr. Kyan, we’ll draw water ‘till the wells are dry.”
Kyan wished him luck and climbed to the roof of The Little Raven. Kyan crossed into the third district and near the shoreline, all the while examining the city below where thousands of people barricaded streets and boarded up houses. To help Kyan’s cause, real fishermen and seafarers who saw the four-masted ships of Cerebria in the inlet had returned in the last few hours, running to their families and neighbors to prepare them and spread the word. A seagull swooped over Kyan’s head as he watched the last glimmer of sunlight vanish over the horizon.
Descending down to the streets to help a group of fishermen string their nets between buildings as a trap, he noticed a throng unloading from a vessel. All were in a panic, leading Kyan to assume they had seen and escaped the Cerebrian fleet. “Say, young man,” said an extremely old fisherman, “will you grab us another net from our boat just on that there dock?” A little boat near the large vessel that had just arrived rocked in the waves and gently tugged on its ropes. This area was commonly known among civilians as the Poor Docks, a joke comparing them to those to the north, which were aristocrat-controlled and nicely-kept.
Kyan nodded, and stepped on the wooden dock where the throng of anxious travellers pushed and shoved to get ashore and see if their families were safe. Kyan weaved his way through, trying to get to the little boat, but he stumbled back as he bumped into a blonde-haired girl exiting the newly-arrived vessel.
“I’m sorry sir.” she said in a cold accent.
Kyan stared wide eyed. “Raelynn?”
The Fuse
Chapter Twenty Six
~Nig
ht, November 4th
Tayben fell through the air and landed hard on a beam of the Great Cerebrian Gate after being knocked off the staircase by Calleneck’s spell. He looked up at his other self as his future body ran up the stairs and out of sight. Tayben pressed himself up from the support beam and looked down many stories to the flashes of colored light and clamor of swords below. A bead of sweat dripped down his face and the world below him seemed to slow almost to a standstill as he watched the bead fall from his chin down a hundred feet to the clouds of swirling light cast by the Evertauri. What am I doing?
Tayben launched himself off the column support to another below, and continued until he reached the bottom floor, which was a battlefield. The Evertauri had pinned the Cerebrian guards against a wall and were shattering their bones and bursting their hearts with jets of Taurimous. Tayben jumped behind a sorcerer who held a spear and drove his sword through his back. As the sorcerer fell, Tayben tore the spear from his hands and tightened his grip on it, feeling the natural balance of his usual weapon.
At that moment, Harkil and his platoon emerged from the other side of the great atrium around the support column and whistled at Tayben, pointing to the Cerebrian guards. Tayben nodded, and in what only seemed like a flash of black smoke to the sorcerers, the Phantoms charged toward the front lines and slammed into the front sorcerers. The Evertauri seemed to move through molasses as the Phantoms attacked, unimaginably faster than the humans. Tayben hurled his spear at another line of sorcerers, trying to avoid the jets of Taurimous. The spear went through the necks of three men, and Tayben weaved through the sorcerers to retrieve it. Only then did the first reactions of fear appear on the faces of the Evertauri. “Get back!” one of them shouted to another.
Harkil’s platoon rushed forward with swords and arrows, killing a group of sorceresses whom Tayben knew well from the Evertauri. The Cerebrian guards charged forward at the Evertauri and a sheet of teal light coursed through the air, surrounding Harkil as he swung; he began to scream, and Tayben hurled his spear into the attacking Evertauri. The teal light vanished and Harkil lay on the ground as the rest of his platoon and the Cerebrians guards fought in a circle around them. Harkil breathed heavily as Tayben picked him up, and he stared at Tayben with eyes wide open in fear. “Tayben, the monster from Endlbarr . . . it gives off the same force as them — the monster came from their sorcery.”
Tayben tried to duck, but a jet of gold light blasted him into a far wall, making his joints crack and back seer with pain.
Harkil turned again to face the sorcerers, saying under his breath, “. . . dark magic . . .”
Tayben shot out again delivering blow after blow with sword and spear, hitting the shields of light cast by the Evertauri. Minute after minute he pushed against the Evertauri, with a few other Phantoms who aided him in his defense of the Great Gate. But as they fought, the Evertauri continued to pile up more and more explosives. From the corner of his eye, he watched Tallius and a group of Evertauri ascending the staircase, hanging some sort of rope as they went. They’re connecting the fuse.
Tayben sprinted up the staircase to the group of Evertauri and rammed into one, sending him falling to the ground below. Tallius shot a sapphire fireball at Tayben, knocking him down and burning his chest. Tayben grabbed another Evertauri and threw him off and hurled his spear through the second to last. Tayben turned to Tallius who stumbled back in fear of the black blur he saw. A memory of talking to Tallius in the Network as Calleneck flashed across his eyes. Tayben swallowed a pain in his throat and bounded up the staircase, leaving Tallius alone.
Tayben rounded a corner, trying to find the rest of the Evertauri who were connecting the explosives. His ears picked up voices from another support column of the Gate and he quickly followed the sound.
A group of Evertauri stood on a bridge-like beam of the column, which faced the blizzarding mountain air. Although the whistle of the biting cold air rang loudly, Tayben could hear them speaking. “We have three out of four ready. All we need is . . . wait, watch out, a shadow!” An Evertauri pointed at Tayben at the other end of the bridge; Tayben threw his spear without hesitation at the group; his stomach dropped when an enormous stream of silver light met the spear in the air and vaporized it. Tayben froze. Madrick.
Madrick charged forward with a cloud of silver swirling around him. Tayben tried to turn back, but a wall of silver appeared behind him, trapping him on the bridge. Tayben froze as Madrick reached forward with a glowing silver hand and grabbed his face with a grip stronger than Riccolo’s. The hand felt like it coursed with electricity, and with a snarl, Madrick sent a wave of silver Taurimous into his body. Tayben felt cold and weak. He felt as if the light given to him by the nymphs was draining as the pain of Madrick’s Taurimous filled every bone in his body. He felt as if the monster was tearing at him again, and he went limp. With a burst of silver, Madrick blasted Tayben’s body off the bridge and into the blizzard. His cloak flapped around his limp body as he fell two hundred feet through the falling snow. Tayben watched the Gate grow taller and taller. He only felt a brief crack of pain as his body hit a snowdrift.
◆◆◆
~Late That Night, After the Battle
Gallien walked slowly through banks of snow with Thephern and his double swords. The mountainside was desolate and silent, and dead Evertauri lay scattered all over the pass. “Tayben!” they called. Smoke rose all around them as they stepped over the corpses of sorcerers in the snow. No sign of life could be seen anywhere. Gallien nudged Thephern, “Over there!”
The two Phantoms ran over the ruins of wagon carts and the blood-covered drifts to a depression in the snow. Thephern, who bled from a gash on his shoulder, set down his two swords and began to dig up snow as Gallien came up the snowbank. “Gallien! Help me!”
Gallien rushed up and knelt next to Thephern. Looking down at Tayben’s body, he put his hand over his mouth, ready to vomit. Bones from Tayben’s legs, arms, and ribcage stuck out of his skin, and his face and chest were crimson with blood. Thephern dug more snow. “Don’t just sit there! Help me!” They quickly dug down to Tayben’s body. Thephern put his fingers on Tayben’s neck.
“Is he dead?” said Gallien with a green-tinted face.
Thephern removed his hand. “Not yet, but we need the Lekshane and Harkil now. Once we get their help, we’ll leave this place; our job is done.” Gallien nodded and bounded down the snowdrift, across the desolate mountainside and past countless corpses.
◆◆◆
~Earlier, During the Battle
As Tayben hit the ground, he felt a crack of pain and a burst of light, and he opened his eyes in Calleneck’s body on the staircase. His fist hurt from punching his other self, and he glanced quickly at Tayben, who pushed himself up from the column support, and ran up the staircase out of sight. Calleneck stopped on the staircase. Did I just die? He shivered, remembering falling off the gate. He shook his head and continued to ascend to where he had agreed to meet Madrick and the others, battling his way through the remaining Cerebrian guards.
Calleneck ran across the bridge that he, as Tayben, would soon approach. Borius and a group of the Evertauri’s engineers were already there, working like ants on rigging the Gate to explode. The blizzard blew hard and slowed Calleneck as Borius greeted him. “Calleneck, are Tallius and your team close behind you?”
“I’m not sure, sir.” said Calleneck.
“Well he better be here soon. As long as everyone down at ground level has done their job, we will soon be ready to blow this Gate, but we need his fuse for the fourth column.”
Another Evertauri interjected “Otherwise, the chain reaction won’t work properly.”
A glow of silver from the other side of the bridge alerted them to Madrick’s arrival. The man quickly looked around. “How many columns are ready?”
A technician stepped forward. “We have three out of four ready. All we need is . . . wait, watch out!” The group spun to see a blur of black hurl a spear toward th
em. Before anyone could react, Madrick released a column of silver Taurimous that engulfed the spear. Madrick ran forward and surrounded the black blur with silver light. Calleneck froze as the two figures disappeared in a cloud of swirling silver light. A loud bang sounded when Madrick blasted Tayben out into the blizzard. Calleneck stepped forward, as if trying to save himself, but Tayben’s body quickly vanished from view.
Madrick kept a large shield of silver hovering around the bridge as he walked back. Borius asked if he was alright.
“Fine . . . continue with our operation.
◆◆◆
“Grab the boxes!” Aunika cast a pale green shield around her covered wagon as fireballs of green and blue soared over her head. Dalah emerged from the wagon with boxes and ran through the crowd of fighting Cerebrian guards and sorcerers.
“Aunika,” Lillia appeared to her side, “is this hallway ready?”
“Two more wagons.” A group of guards spotted them and charged, carrying their pikes low. Aunika knelt to the ground and sent a green lighting bolt cracking through the stone floor until reaching their bodies and crushing their bones. As she turned back to Lillia, a black shadow flew past her.
“Aunika, duck!” Lillia sent a pure white fireball straight over her head. The white met something black, and it flew back with it, swirling.
“What was that!”
“Don’t know, but it’s coming back.” The girls turned around and a shower of green and white embers collided and bounced off a blur of black. More power, and the flakes of Taurimous flew faster. Slowly, the shadow took on a human form in a cloak and no armor, one who carried two swords. In pain, the man jumped back out of the current of sparks and disappeared as quickly as he came.