Well, that explained the large cache of gear they were keeping safe underground. Walter didn’t realize that Samael was just taking back what was his. Now that the Gaians were no longer useful to him, he didn’t want them well armed and dangerous, and he undoubtedly had his own uses for the weaponry.
“It all went bad two weeks ago,” Walter continued, almost babbling. “They somehow know how all our weapons work and we can’t outmaneuver them and they keep using masking spells to—”
“Cloaking spells?”
“Yes, yes, cloaking spells to sneak up on us. We can’t even strike back because we can’t find them.”
As he stopped to draw a breath, she eyed him. He was out of his element and he knew it. He had no place or purpose here. A Gaian general wouldn’t have been telling her all this—they probably would have locked her up somewhere until they had the leisure to deal with her—but Walter felt powerless so he was doing the only thing he was good at: talking.
Another blast shook the floor, but she didn’t think they’d taken a hit.
“What’s going on below us?” she asked Walter, interrupting his continued babbling mid-word.
“What? Oh, our small artillery units are set up in the grandstand on Level 2—Where are you going?”
She turned on her heel and strode out into the hall. Soldiers trotted past her into the room, too busy to question who she was. Quinn and Calder followed as she took the stairs back down until she saw 209 stamped on a wall in heavy black type. Guessing this was the second level, she wheeled through the doorway. From there, all she had to do was follow the sound of voices.
The Gaians had ripped out the seating on the second level, opening a large, flat platform in the middle of the grandstand. Six giant guns were set up on the concrete base, pointed across the ballpark toward the skyscrapers beyond. Walter had called them “small” units but they looked freaking huge to her.
Three-dozen soldiers were clustered around the guns while one man stood back, high-tech binoculars hanging around his neck and a radio in hand. She strode toward him, pretending she had every right to be there.
“Who are you?” he demanded. The sergeant, she was guessing.
“They assigned me to assist you,” she said, hoping that if she were vague enough, he wouldn’t realize she had no idea what she was talking about. “Where are they?”
His eyes narrowed, but maybe he was too desperate to question extra help, no matter where it was coming from.
“They’re in the two buildings across from us,” he said gruffly. “We can see them moving in the windows but we don’t know where they’re firing from.”
She squinted at the dark buildings on the other side of the field: skyscrapers with hundreds of mostly dark windows. The buildings weren’t that far, but it was hard to make out details in the darkness. The sergeant pulled off his binoculars and handed them to her. She put them up to her eyes, impressed by the heavily green-tinted but surprisingly clear view. She hurriedly trained them on the skyscraper where smoking holes from the Gaians’ artillery guns suggested the enemy’s presence. With the binoculars, she immediately spotted distinct shadows darting across numerous windows.
She lowered the binoculars and handed them back. “You’ve been shooting from here for several minutes now?”
“Yes.”
“But they haven’t hit you with any return fire?”
He hesitated. “Not yet.”
She looked around, frowning. The spot they’d hollowed out in the stands provided some shelter, but … “But surely they can see you here.”
Every soldier shifted nervously. They knew they were sitting ducks.
The sergeant’s radio crackled and a voice announced that the commanders were evacuating the complex and to continue firing as a diversion.
She squinted at those distant, darting shadows, visible now that she knew where to look. Why would Hades soldiers be running around in front of windows like scared chickens? Why would they shoot holes in the empty north grandstand but not fire on the clearly visible artillery guns? She focused again on those smoking holes in the skyscrapers. Firing at the shadows accomplished nothing except wasting their ammo.
Wasting their ammo.
Her shoulders snapped back. “It’s a trick.”
Everyone looked at her.
“This is all a trick to make you waste shells.” She spun to the sergeant. “They can make more ammo but they want these guns. That’s why they’re firing at the stands over there but not at you directly—to scare you, to make you fire back. Those shadows in the windows are just illusions.”
The strategy was so simple: fire a few shots, scare the Gaians, then provide harmless targets for the Gaians to waste all their ammo on—simple illusions, the same kind she’d seen Kiev make. Once the Gaians ran out of shells, the Hades forces could approach safely. Samael didn’t want to lose any soldiers fighting the Gaians, not when his main focus was on keeping the Ras pinned down in their embassy.
“Do you know where they’re firing from?” she asked.
“No, they’re hiding it somehow. We don’t even know they’ve fired until it hits.”
She whirled back around, her eyes flashing over the nearby buildings. The Hades attackers were firing from somewhere close, but it wouldn’t be anywhere near their decoys. How were they hiding their position? An illusion like in the draconian valley? No, Samael wouldn’t waste that kind of magic on Gaians. Haemons couldn’t see magic. It would only take the most basic spells to fool them.
She took a deep breath in an attempt to relax. The Gaians couldn’t see magic, but she could. Reaching inward, she pulled on a touch of shading, letting the cold, vicious calm spread through her. Blinking quickly, she scanned their surroundings. Behind the south end of the ballpark, a multilevel parking garage attached to a tall office building butted against the field.
There. A red glow of magic emanating from one end of the parking garage, the second level from the top. An additional glow lit another location at the other corner of the garage, same level.
She grabbed the sergeant’s arm and pointed. “Do you see that parking garage? The second level from the top, both corners? Aim your guns for those two spots.”
He started to lift his binoculars. “But there’s nothing—”
“Trust me, they’re there. You’ll need something with lots of firepower for the first shot, to blast through any shields they have set up.”
The sergeant stared at her, then pointed at the two guns on the far left. “Load high explosive shells.”
The soldiers at the guns leaped into action, picking up shells the size of footballs and loading them into the chambers.
“As soon as the first shots hit,” she told the sergeant, “the other four need to fire immediately before the daemons can shield or teleport.”
“T-teleport?”
“These are reaper daemons. They can teleport. We need to catch them off guard and finish them before they can escape. If you have any spelled shells, that would be best.”
The sergeant drew himself up and started barking orders. The soldiers raced to the other four guns, prepping them to fire. Piper quickly backed out of the way, joining her father and uncle. None of them spoke as they watched the swift preparations. When the soldiers were in position, guns aimed for the parking garage, the sergeant turned to look at her.
“Are you sure?”
She nodded.
He faced his men and gave the command. “Fire!”
The other soldiers clapped their hands over their ears and she got hers up just in time. The two soldiers at the far-left guns yanked the cords. A sound like a hundred simultaneous cannon blasts almost shattered her eardrums. The giant guns jumped back from the recoil, smoke bursting from the barrels, the shells gone too fast to see. The air whistled, then they hit, fire and smoke erupting from the parking garage.
“Fire!”
The other four guns went off. Smoke filled the air, burning her nose. She held her hands over he
r ringing ears, squinting through watering eyes.
The shells hit one after another, sending massive chunks of debris flying. Fire burst outward, then the spelled shells triggered. Blades of magic spun in every direction, ripping through the concrete like butter. A massive chunk of one corner of the garage broke away, tumbling into the ballpark outfield. A flaming, twisting jeep hung on the edge of the hole before toppling out. It hit the ground and exploded. Angry flames engulfed the other corner of the parking garage.
“We got them!” one of the soldiers exclaimed. The others let out hoarse cheers.
“How did you know they were there?” the sergeant asked her. “Are there any others?”
“Just those two,” she said quickly. Two small teams to distract the Gaians and force them to waste their shells.
Her brow furrowed. Two squads wouldn’t be enough to steal the heavy artillery guns. Two teams weren’t enough to do anything, which meant they couldn’t be the only ones. Heavy, immobile artillery guns would be hard to steal, but mobile weapons wouldn’t.
She grabbed the sergeant’s arm again. “We need to get down to the jeeps!”
“What?”
“They’re here to take your equipment!”
The sergeant’s eyes went wide. He pointed at six soldiers. “Stay here to guard the guns. Taylor, report to the general. The rest of you, follow me!”
He led the way to the door, Piper on his heels. They ran down the stairs and back into the main level of the concourse. The sergeant charged around the bend toward the door that would take them down to the lower level, but a hundred soldiers jammed the concourse, blocking their path.
“What’s going on?” the sergeant demanded.
“They’ve blocked access to the lower level with some kind of shield!” someone yelled in response. “No one can break it and they’re slaughtering everyone trapped down there!”
Piper looked at the sergeant. “I need to get to that shield.”
“Let her through!” he yelled. He pushed into the crowd. Piper squeezed after him as he and his team shoved and elbowed their way toward the stairs. She barely noticed her father and uncle get stuck in the press of soldiers as she forged ahead, leaving them behind. By the time they reached the stairs, the soldiers had realized they were coming and squeezed together, opening a path. They ran down the stairs and into the wide corridor at the bottom.
At the end, the top of a shimmering, multi-colored shield filled the open, doublewide doorway. Gaians got out of their way as they sprinted to the doors, where a couple higher-ranking soldiers were arguing furiously.
She pushed past them and stopped in front of the shield. Yes, she’d seen something similar before: a dome shield used by reapers, similar to Lyre’s, that was practically indestructible—except for a hybrid haemon. Beyond it, bursts of red magic and the flash of firing guns revealed the Gaians trapped in the pseudo garage, fighting desperately for their lives.
She turned back to the corridor crowded with furious, helpless soldiers. “I can break this shield.”
Everyone was arguing and yelling, not listening. She balled her hands into fists.
“Hey!” she bellowed. “I can break this shield!”
The hall went quiet all at once. The group of officers spun toward her.
“We need a plan,” she said, talking fast and hoping no one would interrupt with questions about who she was. “Does everyone here know how to shield?”
“Everyone,” one of the officers answered.
“Okay. Daemons rely on magic so they’ll primarily attack that way. Keep your shields up. If these are reapers, they can teleport, and they like to teleport behind people, so everyone should pair up to guard each other’s backs. Do you have magical weapons?”
Several soldiers called out that they did.
“Those will do the most damage to groups, so don’t waste them on individuals. The Hades daemons want the equipment, so they won’t use excessive force around the gear. We spread out on either end of the room, using the vehicles for cover, and force the enemy into the center of the space.”
“Then we attack with the magical ammunition,” the same officer finished. He turned to his fellow officers and they exchanged swift instructions. In a blink, they were yelling orders, half of them pushing back down the corridor to take charge of the soldiers at the back and up the stairs. Thirty seconds later, the hall was quiet again, filled with a sense of readiness. Hands gripped weapons and magic made the air sizzle as the haemons put up protective shields.
All eyes were on her.
“Ready?” she asked.
“Stand by!” an officer called. He pointed two fingers at her, her signal to go.
She turned to the shield, calling on her magic. An orb of fire grew between her raised hands, blue and purple flames swirling together as orange light sparked and flashed where the two colors touched. She pulled it back, twisting the magic together even tighter, then smashed it into the shield.
The barrier burst in a flash of orange light, vanishing into nothing.
She dove through the opening and into the garage, bailing to one side of the doorway. Roaring soldiers charged through after her, splitting in opposite directions and ducking behind the vehicles, some firing shots with their guns, others tossing simple magic attacks. Piper tucked behind a jeep and scrambled to pull up her pant legs to get at the daggers sheathed in her boots. Yanking them free, she half-rose, peering around the tail lights.
Absolute chaos. Guns, magic, soldiers, and daemons. Running, darting, screaming, dying. Her head spun and she wished longingly for the clean mountain battle between the draconians and reapers, not this dark, airless concrete tomb.
The reapers hadn’t been prepared for this many Gaian soldiers to come at them. The strategy was working. The daemons didn’t want to damage the jeeps and were limiting their offensive magic. Paired up, the Gaians weren’t vulnerable to the enemy teleporting behind them in surprise attacks.
Without a gun and only short daggers, Piper stayed tucked behind the jeep, wrapped in a shield as debris and random bits of magic flew everywhere. The Hades soldiers were clustering in the center for defense, shielding against the bullets and magical attacks of the Gaians. Their shields were too strong for haemons, but not for the magical ammunition they’d provided the Gaians with. She lifted her head, searching for the specially armed soldiers, knowing they would strike at any moment.
Before they could, light flashed. A dome shield formed over the reapers, swirling in a faint rainbow of colors like oil on water. Shit! The magical ammunition wouldn’t break that shield.
She dropped her daggers and grabbed the jeep’s tailgate, pulling herself on top of it. Lifting her hands, she formed another swirling orb of blue and purple fire. Her magic was like a beacon, lighting the room. All enemy eyes turned to her.
Gasping, she flung her blast at the shield. In the same instant, red magic shot from within the dome, straight for her.
Her attack hit the shield at the same time their attack hit her. Orange light lit the room as the shield went down, and their magic slammed into her, hurling her off the jeep. She expected a bone-breaking impact against concrete, but instead she crashed into several bodies. Hands grabbed her, lowering her to the floor as guns went off and red light blinded her. Shouts and pounding feet, the sound of scuffling and more gunshots, the sizzle of magic. Then the room quieted.
She stared dazedly, trying to catch back up to reality. Several blurry faces hovered above her, including the sergeant from the artillery team.
“Are you hurt? Is she hurt?”
Someone tugged the shredded mess of her leather top aside.
“What—what is this?”
Fingers tapped at her ryujin top. How many times had her clothes saved her life now? That attack from the reapers had probably been meant to slice her in half.
“Did it work?” she gasped.
“You broke their shield,” the sergeant told her. “We got some, the rest disappeared—telepo
rted.”
She struggled to sit up. They helped her, backing up a little.
“I’m okay,” she assured them. She started to stand and they quickly jumped up, helping her rise. Once she had her feet under her, she looked around. More than half the soldiers had gathered nearby and were watching her.
“She’s fine,” the sergeant announced.
The mass of soldiers looked unanimously relieved. They continued to watch her … waiting. She self-consciously shrugged out of her charred, torn shirt and dropped it on the floor. Her shimmering top was the only color in a sea of black fatigues.
“Who are you?” the sergeant asked.
Another voice answered before she could.
“Walter has already informed us of her identity.” The man walked into the garage, the rest of the officers from the pressroom following him. Walter trailed after them, nervously eyeing the smoking results of the battle. The sergeant and the other officers who’d been in the hallway saluted sharply at the new arrivals.
“What I want to know, Miss Griffiths,” the general said, his gaze on Piper, “is why are you here?”
“Uh, well …” She straightened and met his eyes. “You won’t like it much, but we need your help.”
* * *
She stood in front of the lowest row of seats in the grandstand, taking deep breaths of the cool night air.
Convincing the Gaians to join forces with the Ra family hadn’t been as hard as she’d thought. The soldiers hadn’t needed to hear more than the words “defeat Hades” to agree to whatever she was proposing. They were sick of being on the losing end of every fight and they weren’t about to pass up a chance to get revenge for the massacre of their previous command staff.
The commanders had taken a bit more persuading, but not much. They knew they were losing badly against Hades. After the way she alone had turned the tide of the fight, mentioning how advantageous it would be for them to have daemons assisting them had been a winning point. With a little help, they could use their dangerous weapons to their full potential against Hades.
Footsteps crunched over debris, making her look up. Quinn and Calder came down the stairs behind her to join her in front of the ballpark.
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