Storm Of War

by Ugo, Kachi

“Let me guess,” Peter said. “I’m one of the Two? You’ve come to tell me about how great my destiny is, and how I’m destined to do great things, blah, blah, blah…”

  Rose shook her head. “I’m here because, before High Lady fell to a mortal sickness, she told me to come to Maine—that one of Crawford’s sons was the other of the Two. She told me that together we’ll be able to find the One.”

  Peter became a little confused. “Wait, you’re not telling me that you’re…”

  “I’m one of the Two. You’re one of the Two. Together we’re the Two.”

  Silence.

  A sudden sense of graveness wrapped around Peter. Somehow, in the back of his mind, he had taken the prophecy and his part in it with a pinch of salt. After all, to many it was a myth.

  But weren’t the Scarlet Sisters a myth as well? And wasn’t he able to now do things no other Woodfolk could do?

  It left Peter wondering what other myths were true. There were some really terrifying myths out there.

  “I haven’t always been able to do some of the things I am now capable of,” Peter said. “At first, I thought it was because I’ve grown. But then I watch my friends and I see that they don’t even understand some of the things I’m able to do.”

  “Our destiny is tied to the One,” Rose said. “He recently came into his powers as evidenced by the star in the northern sky. It only makes sense that we should come into our powers as well. Although I believe that we will only get stronger and discover more abilities as time progresses.”

  Could there really be more? Peter thought. Could there really be more to his life than running away from a fight?

  A moment ago the thought of fighting off the Metallics would have terrified him. Now he wasn’t so sure. A few days back, Grey had sounded like a madman to Peter when he told him of the prophecy. Now the notion no longer sounded insane.

  What had he turned into? Why was he changing so fast?

  Then there was Delphina. He hated that he loved her and that he couldn’t be with her. It was so frustrating and painful.

  Why? Peter asked. Why me?

  “Peter,” said Rose. “I’m not going to lie to you. I need your help. I can’t find him alone. The prophecy says it takes the Two of us. And for the past two days, the star of the One has shined bright in the northern sky.

  “It means people with nefarious purposes will be looking for him. Whoever gets to him first will rule our world. If Marcus Stane finds him first, he’ll destroy you and your family and the entire Woodfolks tribe and then some just for kicks.”

  Rose paused. Her eyes gleamed with tears.

  Had she been touched by the cruel hands of Marcus’s violence?

  “It’s imperative that we find him,” Rose said.

  “Why? So you can use him to oppress the Woodfolks?” Peter retorted, anger flaming in his heart.

  “No, Peter,” Grey said. “As I understand it, the Scarlet Sisters exist for the One. They exist to help him fulfill his destiny to unite the three tribes and finally bring peace to our troubled race.”

  “I don’t believe that for a second, Dad,” Peter snapped.

  To Rose, he said, “You say you need my help. Why should I help you? You and your bloody Sisters have been holed up in the Arctic when our villages have been pillaged and our cities burned down by Metallics.

  “You say it is your purpose to unite us, yet all this while our race has been bruised, battered, and torn apart by war and strife. Where were you when we were attacked?”

  Peter shot a glare at his father, his voice thickening with deep-seated hurt and no small amount of rage. “Where was Justina when Marcus attacked us and killed Cynthia? Where was she?”

  “Peter,” Grey began to reply, but Rose cut him off.

  “He’s right, Chief Elder,” Rose said. “We have failed in that regard. And you’re right. My real aim is not uniting the three tribes. My real motivation is to save High Lady Regal. We’ve tried everything, but nothing works. Only the One can heal her.

  “But that’s not to mean that when she’s healed or resurrected—should she die before we locate the One—we will not unite the three tribes. This is why we exist.”

  The calmness in Rose’s words did nothing but stoke Peter’s anger. It was easy for her to sit back there and speak to him in this manner. She knew nothing of his grief. She knew nothing of the Woodfolks’ strife. She knew nothing of pain and loss.

  Peter glared at Grey. “If I stay one more minute, I might strike her down.”

  Rose scowled. “You can try.”

  “Is that an invitation?” he asked, his tone measured.

  Rose remained silent, but the cold look in her eyes spoke volumes.

  Peter shook his head, shot to his feet, and stormed out of the room.

  Two distinct Wood powers lanced around to the elevator to keep it down. But Peter flared his power and cut through their hold on the elevator. Their powers snapped like an old shriveled twig, unexpectedly sending a rebound shockwave blast through the small room.

  Peter’s CIA trained reflexes helped him deflect the raw wave of power. Rose and Grey, on the other hand, weren’t prepared. The wave hit Grey and Rose point-blank, snagging them up into the air and throwing them against the wall.

  The last Peter saw of them as he rode the elevator up were their unconscious forms on the ground.

  Peter went straight to his room to pack his bag. He’d gotten a bigger bag earlier where he packed in all of his clothes, all of the items he’d accumulated here in the Tree House, like the armor jacket, and all the money his father had given him.

  His Baobab staff lay in the corner, and he wondered whether he should take it. He grabbed the staff on a whim and placed it beside his bag on the bed.

  When everything was ready for his travel he went back outside.

  The crowd was mostly gone by then. Most of the chairs and tables had been Levitated back into trees, though they stood leafless. The canopy was still in place.

  The only people remaining were Leaguers, Elders, and about a hundred or so stragglers. No child was in sight as the sun dipped in the western horizon.

  There was a makeshift dance floor where the podium had once stood. The DJ had switched from slow, Celtic music to party jams and hip-hop. Among the dancers, Peter caught sight of Dylan and Delphina dancing together, and it made him all the more sick in his belly.

  Peter sat at one of the few remaining tables and seethed, furious with his father.

  Yeah, sure, being at home reminded him of once being a fearless young warrior.

  Maybe, just maybe, he was beginning to get comfortable with using his power to help out—only when there was a great chance of success, though.

  But it was one thing to want to defend against trouble, like he had done these past three days, and another thing to go looking for trouble. Even if the prophecy of the One were true, why the hell would he want to have anything to do with it?

  Peter already had a target on his back as it were! Not only from the people to whom he owed money, but also from the Metallics who’d probably heard of him from the training facility incident.

  To go after the One was extremely dangerous and would most likely end in Peter’s death, and he just wouldn’t stand for that.

  Maybe Julian or one of the other Leaguers would do it without blinking. Maybe five years ago he wouldn’t have thought twice about it. But he was different now. And he thought the whole idea was absurd.

  “Peter.”

  Peter flinched, startled by Julian’s voice. He hadn’t seen his brother approach.

  Julian sat by his side. “What’s up? What did dad want with you?”

  “I don’t really want to talk about it.”

  There was a silence.

  “Look, I know you’ve said you’d leave today,” Julian said after a while. “But I was hoping I could convince you to stay. I need your help constituting the military. You’re well respected am
ong the young and fighting Woodfolks. You’re feared among the Metallics. Your name strikes fear in the hearts of our enemies.

  “The army would have more zest in war if they know you’re charging out to battle with them.”

  The phrase “charging out to battle” discomforted Peter. He wasn’t sure he wanted to ride out to battle with anyone, even if it was an army of Woodfolks.

  “Julian, I have to go,” replied Peter. “I’m not cut out for this sort of thing.”

  Julian said, “I don’t believe that. I think this is exactly the kind of thing you’re cut out for.”

  Peter sighed. He was done trying to convince anyone to let him go. At the appropriate time, he’d just grab his bag and walk away.

  “I’ve chosen principal officers of the military,” Julian said. He gestured at the dance floor. “They don’t know it yet. They’ll probably find out tomorrow when they’re not too wasted to read.”

  “Great,” Peter muttered, not at all excited.

  “And look,” Julian said, “I know you’re going away and all, but I made you my XO. You’re the second in command, Peter.”

  “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” asked Peter.

  Julian clasped his brother’s shoulder. “I believe in you, Peter, even if you don’t believe in yourself,” he said. “I believe you’ll do the right thing.” He got up and left.

  Will I? Will I do the right thing? Peter wondered.

  Was the right thing—running away from destiny? Was the right thing refusing to help a scared little teenager save her aunt from death? Because that was what he was doing.

  Sometime later, Peter returned to his room to collect his bag. His original thought was to sneak out of the Tree House and leave. But then Delphina was waiting for him just outside the staircase.

  “Leaving without saying anything, again?” said Delphina. Without waiting for a reply, she took his hand and led him to the porch where Dad, Julian, some Leaguers, and Rose waited.

  “Rose, I didn’t mean to…,” he began to apologize.

  “It’s fine,” she said.

  “Dad, I’m sorry…,” Peter said.

  “It’s okay, Son,” Grey said. “We called a taxi for you. He’s waiting for you at the outpost. Safe trip, Peter.”

  Peter hugged Delphina and Stephanie and waved the rest goodbye. Julian escorted him to the taxi where they hugged and parted ways.

  The ride to the airport took less time than he expected. The highways were mostly deserted as dusk had come.

  The airport was deserted as well. His flight wouldn’t leave for another hour so he bade farewell to the taxi driver, who he knew was a Woodfolk, and waited with his duffel bag in Departure.

  The driver had hardly walked out of the airport when Peter caught sight of a curious aircraft in the sky. Something about the design caught his attention. He’d seen it before.

  The plane flew very low, which only meant two things: Either it was landing or it was about to attack a target. It was flying away from the airport, so it couldn’t have been the first one. But…its current flight path would put it over the Tree House in less than two minutes.

  In a moment of shocking clarity, Peter remembered where he’d first seen that airplane. He remembered the destruction it had left in its wake. He remembered the pain. He remembered Cynthia.

  Peter grabbed his duffel bag and ran toward the driver.

  “Get the car!” he yelled at him, dialing Julian’s number.

  The driver was a well-trained Woodfolk. He was neither startled by Peter’s outburst, nor did he ask questions. He simply dashed down the driveway to his parked car.

  “Peter?” Julian’s voice came over the phone.

  “Julian, listen carefully,” said Peter. “Code red. You are under attack. There’s a plane headed toward you! It’s carrying bombs!”

  Just as the words came out of his mouth, the ground shook with the explosion of several pounds of explosives.

  “Shit!” Peter screamed, watching the plane drop five more bombs in the distance.

  “Julian!” he yelled into the phone, but the line was dead.

  The driver screeched to a halt in front of Peter.

  Peter jumped into the back of the car. “To the Tree House. Fast!”

  The car jumped into gear and sped out of the airport.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  E

  ven before Julian got the call from Peter, Rose knew something was wrong. It wasn’t really because of the low-flying bomber and the earthquakes that tore through the ground as it approached. No, it was the Levitating power that coursed through it. It wasn’t Wood. And it wasn’t Earth.

  “Metallics!” she yelled even as Julian froze, his phone faltering from his ear. Whatever Peter had told him, it was already too late.

  The bombs rained down.

  Five bombs, spaced five seconds apart. However, the sequence of events seemed to stretch longer than five seconds.

  Rose’s first instinct was to dash off of the porch for she knew the Tree House would be the first target. She was not disappointed. The first bomb hit the Tree House, decimating most of its upper floors in a glorious flash of red and orange and heat and fire.

  The next bomb hit the canopy, incinerating it and sending flying shrapnel like a haze into the air. By now everyone was panicking and screaming. Everyone except Rose.

  The next two bombs hit the open field and the fence. The fifth bomb struck the ground some few feet away from her, and the blast from the explosion snatched her off her feet and sent her flying like a rag doll until she slammed into the ground again.

  There she lay dazed, watching in slow motion as Woodfolks were cut to pieces by the nails and shrapnel shooting out of the bombs.

  Ash and smoke billowed into the air. In seconds, this once colorful and delightful gathering had turned into a bloody war field. Everywhere, people lay dazed, dying, or dead.

  Rose groaned amid the screams, pain throbbing through her midsection. She slowly checked to see if she was bleeding from anywhere. She had a deep cut in her side, but it looked like a superficial flesh wound and the bleeding had already stopped.

  She looked around for Grey Crawford. He’d been standing right next to her when the bombs hit.

  Rose caught sight of Grey about ten feet to her right. He lay unmoving on the ground.

  “Grey…” she muttered, struggling to her knees. Her body was still in a state of shock.

  Around her, Julian and some of the members of his elite group were now recovering from the attack. In the haze of blood and death, she saw no one running to secure the gaping hole in the fence or rally the guards.

  They think it’s over, Rose thought with horror.

  Rose had studied the Metallics’ attack pattern for years. She’d studied enough to know that though the bombing was devastating, it was what followed after that was far worse.

  Rose dragged herself to Grey. She felt for a pulse and found one. “Julian!” she screamed.

  Julian soon appeared at her side. He took one look at his father’s unconscious body and almost choked on grief.

  “He’s alive but unconscious,” Rose said.

  Julian glanced at her as though he was just noticing her. “Let’s get him to the hospital then.”

  Rose grabbed his arm. “No. We’re not out of the woods yet.” She struggled to her feet, using Julian’s arm as leverage.

  “What do you mean?” Julian asked, terror filling his eyes.

  “The plane,” Rose said, “that was phase one of the attack. The foot army is coming.”

  “Metallics!” someone screamed the very next moment, and the blood in Rose’s veins ran cold.

  Then the real fight began.

  The people who could still fight rose up against the advancing Metallic army. Rose couldn’t see the Metallics yet, but from the battle cries coming from afar, she knew they were already here. And like the inevitable, they would reach the Tree Ho
use in a matter of time.

  “We’ve got to help them!” said Julian. He started to leave. Rose grabbed his arm and jerked him back.

  “We can’t,” Rose said. “They’ll eventually make it through and kill all of us.”

  Julian seemed infuriated by her suggestion, though he saw it was true. “I can’t leave my friends to die out there!”

  “Stay here with your father,” Rose said. “I’ll go help them. But when I give the word I want an impenetrable wooden shell around him, okay?”

  Julian nodded, knelt by his dad, and got ready.

  Rose flared up her Wood and Earth power and then dashed toward the sound of the battle cry. She didn’t have to run far before she stumbled right into a four-man Metallic squad. Holding them down were Delphina, Brad, and Emily.

  Shrapnel flew through the air like buzzing bees, pinning Delphina, Brad, and Emily behind reinforced wooden shields made from the long tables.

  Rose slid behind the shield in between the trio. “Get ready to attack,” she whispered to them.

  They nodded.

  Rose closed her eyes and reached out into the Earth. The last thing the Metallics would expect was Earth Levitating. Therein lay their advantage.

  Rose pinpointed their location and jerked the ground under them. They shrieked in surprise.

  “Now!” she roared and jumped over the shield, running toward the two on the right who were now falling to the ground. Two hands shot outward, pulling to her grip two knives—one made of Earth, the other Wood.

  Like a dart, only with the speed of a bullet, she sent the Earth knife toward the Metallic on the farthest right. The knife found home with practiced precision, burying itself into the man’s heart.

  Rose caught the other Metallic as he crashed into the ground. With a snarl, she drove the wooden knife into his throat. Before the blood could pump out, she shoved him to the side where he would no doubt bleed out and die.

  Delphina and Brad had killed the other two.

  Rose said to them, “Spread out. Kill them all.” They glanced back at her, terrified. “Now!” Rose screamed and they vanished into the darkening woods.

  The battle intensified.