Clear enough. When the barge was close enough, its occupants trying and failing to hit them both, Kelena coiled up to spring. Isavel let the dragon’s gift spread her jagged wings, jumping through the air with a shield and crashing into two Azurites standing too close to the edge of their barge. She knocked one off into the forest below and hacked into the other with the edge of her shield.
Kelena was on the other end of the vehicle, dancing through the enemy with eerie, languid efficiency that bordered on afterthought. In the second Isavel saw her work, she seemed like water made human form, everywhere and nowhere at once, immovable yet light as clouds.
Then a shot exploded against Isavel’s shield. She rammed forward, slamming the attacker off his feet, and somebody came at her with a sword. She grabbed it with shimmering dragon claws, and for a brief second the martian made the mistake of trying to overpower her with force. She lunged forward, forcing all her weight through her arms, and with a shudder the man’s pose suddenly gave and she had forced the other edge of the sword into his face.
Then she spotted what must be the controls - a single dias with another martian cowering behind it, hands fixed on the machinery like one would with a hauler. She flung a shield at both of them and it burst into fire and splinters of light, and the deck shuddered.
The small barge turned violently, as though stuck in a single arc of motion, corkscrewing down through branches on its way down. Isavel and Kelena leapt back into the pine crowns, as did the rest of Azure’s followers, all scrabbling madly for purchase. Hail’s shots caught them off guard, and a few gunshots from lower in the forest told her their friends were firing up as well. With a sudden whoosh, branches the barge shoved aside in its fall suddenly flung back up, and a spray of deep purple needles prickling against her skin. She elbowed one martian off the tree and made to jump -
A blue glow and a whine was all the warning she got; Kelena suddenly knocked into her, sending them both flying as the main war barge’s gun cut a vicious swath of death through the treetops. The light was blinding and turned the pale tree trunks black, blowing layers of newborn charcoal with sheer force. Isavel felt the heat against her skin, then her wings were up, and they crashed into another tree.
She untangled herself from the swordswoman and vaulted up the branches, ignoring the scrapes and stabs the needles were giving her, until she had a better vantage point. The other barges were keeping their distance as they fired. Most shots plinked harmlessly against her shield or missed entirely, but she didn’t like the idea of crossing dozens of trees to get near them, and that cannon could fire again at any second.
“Kelena! We need to -”
The sudden wail was as familiar as it was unexpected. The black wraith burst from two days of hiding straight below the smaller barge, and to Isavel’s near horror it almost completely enveloped the vehicle, black tentacles tearing martians apart and shredding the metal hull to pieces. Then a cluster of bright bursts suddenly disgorged orange smoke all throughout the barge, enveloping the entire scene in a haze that sloshed across the treetops, beaten about by the branches as they wavered in the winds. The sounds of screaming and shearing metal still made it out.
Her eyes found Hail a few trees away, and she seemed just as surprised, but they didn’t have time. Whatever the wraith was doing, the large war barge was still there and had yet to fire again. Now that it was alone, Isavel felt it must be at a disadvantage. She leapt from one needly treetop to the next, warding off trained but imperfect shots from its crew, and before long she was just within reach - it was still trying to close in on her, or catch her in its beam, but couldn’t turn fast enough. She jumped, her fingers draconic claws of hard white light, and lashed into the metal hull, climbing up to the exposed deck of the barge.
Heavy weapons were built into the deck on swivels, but she was close enough to one to crack it open with a lunge and stab the gunner in the same frantic swing. A shot graze her arm, but they were wary on the crowded deck, not willing to fire so readily when they might hit their comrades by accident. So they drew swords instead.
She smiled. She shouldn’t, but she did.
The first bounced harmlessly off her shield, and she battered aside it and the man wielding it with a single swipe, rounding on the others. They all rushed her at once, shouting, and for the first time in many days something stirred awake, something that knew this was its moment. It had teeth and muscle and weight and power, and as she slammed through them one at a time, each testing and failing against shields they could not cut and arms they could not stop and skin they could not track and fire they could not quench, she forgot she was anything less than an army of fire and light.
“Isavel!”
Kelena had found her, a smooth smoke of a woman snuffing out Azure’s soldiers with the negligent afterthought of a blade. Her expression was calm, but she nodded at Isavel briefly.
“Focus.”
She nodded. Of course; the cannon. She turned and only peripherally noticed the blue stains on her clothes, the slick across the deck, the comparative quiet of the remaining fighting, as surviving martians jumped or holed up at the edge of the barge. Destroying things was easier than fixing them. That was usually a curse - but right now, here, she was good at this.
She darted across the deck and jumped down to the cannon at the core joint between the two hulls of the war barge. To its rear were the controls, manned by a panicked martian who took one look at her glowing white claws and tried to reach for a gun. She body-slammed into him, sending him careening into a thicket of needles, then jumped to the controls.
She had stuck her hand into energy cores before and survived, but who knew how long that would hold? Instead she raked her claws through the ancient handholds, those unnaturally intuitive controls anyone could turn on her. The cannon swiveled down around the axis between the two hulls, almost flinging her off, and something inside it sparked and burst.
It was going to explode anyway, wasn’t it? Who was she kidding.
She kicked off with dragon wings, high into the air, and flung a shield down into it. The crack of blue light and fire was immediate and split the war barge in two, and with bursts of dragonfire from her palms she flung herself towards Kelena on one of the rapidly-tilting decks, hitting it at an odd angle but quickly rolling to her feet. She grabbed the swordswoman and hauled her off as the hulls careened apart and crashed into the ancient forest below them.
Not far off, the dusty orange smoke had seeped into the trees as well, what remained of it above the canopy was dispersing, whisked along by needles waving in the wind.
Kelena gripped her bicep as they clung to one of the trees. “Thank you. I do not want to bring more death to the First Tree. The better gods will look more kindly on you for this.”
“The better gods?”
Kelena nodded. “There are no good gods. But some are better.”
She smiled wryly, but the gunfire below drew her attention. The fighting wasn’t over yet. She caught a quick glimpse of Hail sailing through the air before the hunter landed on an adjacent tree. “Isavel! Are you alright?” She peered closer. “Gods, I’m glad the blood is blue.”
“I’m fine, but we’re not done.” She gestured down. “Kelena, are they trying to hurt the tree? What for? I thought he was hunting you.”
Kelena narrowed her eyes. “I believe that is all he is doing. But for him to move into the old forest is unusual.” She looked down. “We should capture someone. I want to know his intent.”
Isavel felt certain his intent was that sword, and that he had decided Isavel was not to be relied upon - rightfully enough. She did not want to tangle with the Red Sword again. As the other two scampered down the towering pines, she simply jumped and floated down on her wings, quickly finding her feet. Another hot blast of fire from Tanos’ gun drew her attention, and she ran for them. “Tanos! Sam! Try to catch one!”
She wasn’t sure they heard, but when she rejoined them on the ground she found them taking cover behind a log, firing bl
indly over the top. She glanced over and ducked out of the way of incoming fire.
“We need one alive! Try to -”
Tanos gaped at her brace and pants and their spattering of blue. “Isavel, are you - oh gods, it’s blue, what -”
Sam barked a dry laugh. “Isavel, of all the people on this planet, the two of us are the last people you want wrestling soldiers to the ground.”
Isavel blinked. “Sam, weren’t just complaining about how many centuries you’ve gone through? You never even tried wrestling as a pass-time?”
Hail and Kelena were just catching up with them, and Sam forced out a scowl-shaped smile. “Try to remember what it’s like to be scrawny and ungifted. Or were you just always built like a fucking tiger?”
“Just stop shooting at them then!” She shook her head. “Hail, shoot the bits they don’t need.”
“How long are they going to need their bits once we’ve caught them?” The hunter flexed her fingers, and gave a halting smile. “Some bits are more essential than others.”
She widened her eyes and turned away, not able to think of a coherent answer before Kelena was darting through the trees. She followed; scattered in the woods were a few of the druitha, backed up against trunks with guns or, mostly, bows. There were only so many ancient weapons to go around, and Azure was a collector.
Somebody was firing on them from a hillock, so she shielded herself and charged through the woods, but the firing stopped before she reached them, and she heard a call in her father’s tongue. “Isavel!”
Her heart clenched a little. Zoa? The coder sounded angry. She slowed and kept walking, wary for other shots, when Zoa suddenly crested the hill, hauling a bruised martian by his silvery hair, her bronze blade shimmering with code at the man’s throat.
“You were shouting about wanting a prisoner?”
Isavel tried to nod appreciatively while keeping eyes and ears on their surroundings, but she couldn’t help but stare. The feathers Zoa had taken from the rokh were now jammed into the bun of her blue hair at the back of her head, and even beyond death they continued to meld to their surroundings in an eerie shimmering. And somewhere along the line she had donned a hard leather jacket she had inscribed with glowing code. “Zoa, did you swordfight this one?”
“I tried, but he was too quick and almost stabbed me.” Zoa patted her coded armour. “Yarger distracted him and I just grabbed him and beat the crap out of him. Turns out growing up on a world where everything weighs twice as much means we can hit pretty fucking hard by their standards.”
The mute martian emerged from behind the hill as well, nodding quietly at Isavel. She thought Yarger even smiled. Zoa tossed the prisoner towards the ground, seeming to relish the thunk he made against the pine-coated ground, then lightly backhanded Isavel’s bicep.
“I’d ask if this is how you feel all the time on Earth, but it looks like you’ve already painted the answer all over yourself.”
She scowled - or was she grinning? Her own blood was no cooler than the bloodstains were dry; she couldn’t help but think a hint of a smile had crept into the scowl as well. Gods, why did this feel like relief?
The woods had fallen quiet. Kelena jogged over, and in the distance she found Tharson slinging away his gun and coming towards them. The Red Sword was soon the second weapon at the Azurite’s throat, and yet for all that and his bruises he didn’t look afraid.
Kelena stared down at the prisoner. “Will you talk?”
He stared at her wildly, his eyes drifting to the Red Sword. “You don’t know the destruction, the irresponsibility -”
Zoa kicked him in the knee, her martian just as harsh. “Answer.”
“You will be found -”
Isavel grimaced at Kelena, and the swordswoman grunted, as though she had expected as much. Hail emerged from the pines with her palms aglow, aimed at the man’s chest. “Isavel - why should we even trust a prisoner?”
“I don’t know.” She asked the question of Kelena in her own tongue, and the swordswoman shook her head.
“I would not trust him now, but there is a way.”
“What way?”
Kelena sighed, but Tharson suddenly barked out at her. “That is unwise, Kelena.”
Isavel turned to see him slowing in his jog. Like her, he had been somewhat bloodied by thick blue of martian veins, yet she was glad to see it didn’t seem to be his. Kelena wasted no time responding. “It’s the only way to be sure. I am the Red Sword now, Tharson. I decide. We need to know why Azure breached this place.”
Azure’s man was staring at them all frantically, but Kelena approached Isavel and gently gripped her wrist, lowering her voice. “Isavel. The Red Sword unfolds futures before us, some more likely than others. If he attacks kill him at once, with the least likely future you can use. We could all die otherwise.”
“Futures?” She shook her head, wondering if she had misunderstood. “What are you talking about?”
Kelena didn’t answer. Maybe it was beyond Isavel’s words, but that didn’t make her any happier to see Kelena suddenly hold out the Red Sword, its hilt pinched onto her open palm by her thumb but otherwise exposed. She was offering it to him, offering to hold it with him together, and for a brief moment his eyes lit up and he grinned wildly. Isavel tensed, somehow knowing he was about to go on a rampage.
He reached out to grip the hilt alongside her, and his face froze. He jolted as though struck, and his face slackened. After a few moments Kelena pulled the sword away from him, and he remained dazed.
It eats people. Was this what Tharson meant?
Then the martian started to sob.
“Kelena, what did you do?”
“I showed him things.” She frowned. “He’s harmless without the sword. Wait.”
Eventually, he got some words out. “I’m sorry. I -”
Tharson stepped forward, his arms angrily crossed. He gave Kelena a brief glance before turning on the prisoner. “Azure has never violated the old forest before. Why now? Have you been following us? Why not wait to murder more villagers and blame it on us, like you always do?”
The man seemed to tremble, then he looked up and pointed at Isavel. “Not the sword. Her.”
Kelena raised her eyebrows. “You’ve been hunting the Red Sword for years.”
“Yes, but she -” The man stammered, confused and puzzled. “Amber has shielded her from Azure.”
Isavel felt a strange cavern echo inside of her. One god had protected her from another? She looked at Tharson and Kelena. “Kelena - you said Amber might be working with Crimson.”
“Yes.” The prisoner was confirming it for her. “Amber is hiding you from Azure’s eyes. From all the old ways of seeing.”
Tharson’s eyes widened. “Amber? You met Amber?”
Kelena kicked the dirt. “How did you track us if he’s hiding her?”
“We didn’t! We knew your direction, your histories - but this was one of many places. Ships went to all of them. Azure can’t - the gods must be in agreement, and this - please, I never knew -”
“What does it matter if Amber is shielding some earthling?” Isavel felt a brief sting at the dismissive tone Kelena was taking, but she knew it was fair in this. “What does she matter?”
“We do not know.” He sobbed again. “ Azure doesn’t know. He said Amber pretended she did not exist. That is why he was so - so angry . The gods do not fight. Not over anything. So why her? We - he wanted us to find out why. He sent us looking for answers. He must know. If the other gods upset the balance -”
“That’s it?” Kelena took a step closer, and he was silent. “Is that all you know?”
“Yes, I swear! I -”
With a single swift motion, she cut the man’s head off. The suddenness of it startled Isavel almost more than the immediate gush of blue, and everybody else except Tharson jolted back in surprise. He looked at her gravely. “Only the Sword’s keepers should know its secrets. The rest cannot be allowed to live.”
&nb
sp; There was silence in the forest for a moment. That sudden act, if not the fighting before, did unsettle her, and she looked away as Kelena spoke pointedly to Tharson. “Amber spoke to her in Deep Tharsis, yes. She didn’t tell me until today. But you know what this means - you remember, don’t you?” The pause was heavy, and Isavel turned to watch them. “We must bring her to Red Rise. Crimson will speak to her, Tharson.”
His face darkened, but Kelena didn’t let him get a word in.
“And your brother will speak to you.”
Tharson’s face screwed up into something painful, and he turned and stormed off. Yarger darted after him and Zoa quickly followed, but Kelena stayed behind, shaking her head, and after a moment gripped Isavel’s shoulder.
“Red Rise is several days north. We should return to the galhak.”
As Kelena walked away from her, Isavel had to ask again. “What did the Red Sword do to him? Why did he talk? Why did you -”
The swordswoman paused, keeping her hand on the weapon. “I showed him why nobody must wield the Red Sword for power. The truth, the way he needed to see it.”
“So why did you kill him? What about -”
“The more people live to tell of the Sword’s power, the more dangerous it becomes. The more suffering it brings.” Kelena beckoned her. “We must go.”
Hail looked at her curiously, but Isavel could only sigh. “I have no idea. Hail, go follow her. I’ll be with you in a bit.”
“Where are you going?”
She turned around and glanced to the billowing orange smoke that was slowly dissipating through the trees. “The wraith came back. I want to… I won’t be long.”
Clearly not satisfied, Hail nevertheless gave her shoulder a firm rub and nodded, briefly touching her forehead to Isavel’s, then followed the others. That was enough to completely banish the sense of energy she had from the fight, and now Isavel jogged through the woods to with a touch of dread, unhelped by the sudden silence and calm as she approached the crash site. Where she quickly discovered an even more disconcerting sight.
The wraith had torn the barge to shreds, but strangely intact shreds - components, she realized. Here and there she saw ancient code embedded into the materials that once made up the barge, and the wraith seemed to be… eating them. It rested in the centre of the chaos, amidst martian bodies and piles of scrap metal, pulling old machinery into its roiling core and then spitting it out as though expelling waste.
Fourth Under Sol (Digitesque Book 5) Page 15