But how did he know all this? He closed his eyes. It felt as if a tiny light was blinking in his mind—and he was sharing it with something else…
SMACK! Oscar flinched. A bird had crashed into the glass, feet first, not hard enough to hurt itself, but hard enough. It was a crow or something like it, with oil-black feathers and eyes like tiny black beads. It squawked at Oscar and fluttered its wings as if in the grip of a seizure. Then it took off into the night. The light in Oscar’s mind blinked off.
“They’re coming,” he said.
He let go of the windowsill, dove through the air, and flipped twice before landing catlike on the marble tiles. He hadn’t made a sound.
“Mother of God,” his father said, watching him rise gracefully.
“We have to go,” Oscar said. He grabbed his father’s hand and pulled him along. “We have to warn them!”
CHAPTER 68
A scher huddled the orphans together in the center of the dining room.
Everyone was there except Milo, who had been missing since the previous morning. Oscar had interrupted Ascher’s men during a massive search for the boy, claiming that danger was coming, and now all of Ascher’s soldiers were guarding the ranch, hoping that Milo wasn’t out there alone in the dark.
Sevarin stood apart from the other orphans, looking up at the darkened windows with his shoulders squared and his hands balled into fists. Sweat coated his face. He was breathing hard but trying to hide it. He’d spent the past ten hours calling Milo’s name and running around the forest and fields looking for him.
Oscar stood perched on the dining room table, which gave him a higher vantage point. His head was tilted back, and he seemed to be listening to something distant that only he could hear.
Emma crouched near the floor with her arms around a half dozen of the smaller orphans, her wings pressed together behind her shoulders. She ignored the pain caused by their little hands grabbing at her feathers. She was biting her lower lip and looking up at the windows.
Lily stood by Ascher, so small against his hulking frame. Her eyes were closed and she was moving her hands around in some sort of spell. Her lips moved without making a sound. The words were: Where are you, Milo? Send me a message. I hope you’re okay.
Calista had thrown her arms around Barrel’s frail shoulders and was crying into the neck of his robe. Her tail curled around one of her legs. Barrel patted her arm and kept his other hand on something inside the pocket of his robe. He took it out and inspected it—a potion inside of a glass bulb. It shimmered in the low light. Satisfied, he slipped it back into his pocket.
Owen and Gunner stood with a few of the other Humankin boys. They spoke in low whispers.
“It might be Elki,” Owen said. “Oscar said he heard a pounding sound. Unless they’re riding levathons, what else could it be?”
“Don’t say that,” Gunner said. “Gods, I hope it’s not Elki. Did you bring the knife?”
“Got it right here,” Owen said, patting his pocket.
Lano spoke up. “Maybe you’ll finally kill that Elki you keep bragging about.”
Sticks gave a low giggle.
“Shut up,” Owen said. “This isn’t the time.”
“If it’s Elki,” Gunner said, “you’ll be lucky to have arms and legs when you go to sleep tonight.”
Sticks and Lano shut right up.
Ascher kept his eyes on the four soldiers fumbling with a rope-and-lever contraption in the corner of the room. Several different worries ran through his mind: the wall fortification system had never been used—what if it was broken? Was he really going to drop the walls without Milo? And what then? How long could they last in here?
He knew what decision he would make. He also knew that Milo would understand, wherever he was. Ascher’s first priority was to protect his children. If they really were being attacked by the king’s men and who-knew-what-else, then the walls would have to come down.
Coral crouched a few feet away, comforting several of the younger orphans and trying to explain to them that everything was okay, that this was just like the fire drills they had practiced a hundred times. Oscar’s father assisted in keeping the children calm.
“Ashy,” Coral said, “we can’t drop the walls. What about Milo?”
On hearing her brother’s name, Emma perked up. “What walls?”
Lily opened her eyes and spoke in a breathy, calm voice. “Milo is safe.”
“Say that again,” Ascher said.
“Milo. He’s safe. I don’t know where he is, but he’s being protected by magic. Emma, do you feel it?”
Emma searched deep within herself, trying to find that mysterious string that had always connected her to Milo. The string was not vibrating. He was okay. He had to be.
“I feel it, too,” she said. “We should worry about ourselves.”
“Then we drop the walls,” Ascher said.
Owen and Gunner looked at each other.
“It’s bad,” Gunner said.
Owen nodded. “Yeah, it is.”
On Ascher’s command, the four soldiers struggling with the rope wheel began to work in earnest, and soon they were able to get it to move.
Ascher shouted, “Release it!”
The orphans covered their ears as a loud metallic clacking came from above. The ranch seemed to tremble as panels opened in the ceiling and along each wall, and allowed something big and heavy to roll out and crash to the ground. It looked like a black spider’s web made of iron bars.
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
Four of the metal nets hit the floor in succession. The orphans screamed. Each wall was now covered by a black metal net.
“Secure them!” Ascher shouted.
The soldiers began fastening the nets to metal loops in the floor.
“Electrify!”
The soldiers stepped back. One flipped a switch, and a moment later, a low electric hum filled the room. Blue tendrils of electricity danced over the metal bars for a moment, and then disappeared. The orphans could feel the current in the air.
“Wow,” Owen said, staring down at his arms. The hairs were all standing up.
Gunner swallowed. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”
Oscar’s tail swished through the air faster than normal. He turned to address the other orphans. “I hear a sound. Bum bum—bum bum, like a heart beating…”
The orphans were silent. Then Owen spoke.
“Elki. They synchronize their steps in large groups.”
A series of loud concussions made the orphans fall into crouches. Ascher swore under his breath. The creatures were throwing themselves against the outer walls.
Emma, Calista, and Lily stood in a tight huddle, letting out occasional squeals of terror as the room was filled with the deafening thunder of attack.
Gunner and Owen nodded at each other. Owen pulled out his Tiberian dagger and held it down by his waist, blade sticking out.
He spoke in a throaty whisper. “Come and get it.”
CHAPTER 69
A young man walked beside an older one down a shadowy corridor lit by magical flames in wall sconces.
Both wore white suits with many pockets that gave them the look of naval officers. The young man was almost as tall as the older man, and walked with the anxious confidence of someone who had just been promoted. Nervous sweat covered his face. His arms swung from well-proportioned shoulders, the hands balled into fists. Every now and then, the fists tightened with anticipation.
The young man was Milo.
“I can’t believe it’s been two years,” he said.
“Two and half,” came the low, measured voice of the uncle he’d come to love over the years. “You’ve been in this vault for about thirty months now.”
Emmanuel’s hair was now gray at the temples. The past two and a half years of training for twelve to fifteen hours a day had taken their toll on him—especially all the spellcasting necessary to keep the shrouding and time dilation spells going at the same ti
me. He’d never put so much effort into a project before.
The years had been kinder to Milo. He was now a full four inches taller than when he had left the other orphans behind on the frozen pond. His body had been shorn of baby fat and was now covered in a layer of muscle from all the rigorous physical exercises Emmanuel had assigned him. A battlemage had to be physically fit to have the stamina necessary for advanced spellcasting, and he had trained his body to an impressive level.
Milo carried a brown bag over one shoulder. As they walked, he reached into it and pulled out something as long as his forearm, and perfectly straight, with elaborate carvings running up its wooden sides. It was a short staff, and there was a blue luminether crystal, fully charged, built into one end.
“She’s going to love it,” Emmanuel said.
Milo nodded. “She’s going to need it.”
“By the way,” his uncle said as they reached a massive metal door. “Congratulations.”
“For what?”
“It’s your birthday. You’re seventeen years old. Biologically, you are now two and half years older than your twin sister.”
Milo slipped the short staff back into the bag and took a deep breath. He was seventeen now—older than Lily. He wondered how she would react upon seeing him like this, taller and with more weight, and longer hair that fell around his forehead and ears. He was no longer the little boy with the high-pitched voice and nervous habits.
Of course, that wouldn’t matter if they all died in the upcoming battle. He tried not to think about it as he watched his uncle dial a number into a keypad with glowing red buttons. If he could have one small gift for his birthday, what would it be?
An answer popped into his mind as the keypad turned green and the metal door slid open.
Sunlight.
Natural sunlight.
CHAPTER 70
Broken glass crashed into the dining room as the windows burst inward.
A wave of Elki slid down, trapped between the metal net and the wall, bodies shaking and sizzling as electricity cut through them. The orphans coughed as a thin, greasy smoke filled the room. It was the smell of a summer barbecue, which made all of this even more traumatizing.
Something big exploded with a muffled boom behind the ranch, causing the floor to tremble. The buzzing of electricity was cut off. The room went dark. A burst of orange light washed over them as a soldier lit a torch.
“They destroyed the generators,” Ascher said, making a fist and pressing it to his forehead. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Gods help us.”
Elki poured through the windows like hairless gray bats. The orphans shrieked and huddled more tightly together. Coral tried to keep the smaller ones from getting stepped on.
“They can’t get past the bars,” Ascher shouted. “Don’t panic!”
One of his men ran forward to stab an Elki with his sword. The blade was useless. He tried again and again. The Elki caught the man’s hand in its jaws and bit down. With an agonized roar, the man pulled away, leaving a trail of blood from his ruined fingers.
Owen raised the Tiberian-steel dagger. “This can kill them!”
He tried to push his way through the group, toward a section of wall where two Elki were pawing at the metal net.
Ascher grabbed the boy and stopped him.
“Give me that.” He snatched the dagger from Owen’s hand and looked around. “Sevarin.”
“Here.”
He tossed the dagger to Sevarin, who caught it by the blade. Sevarin looked down at his hand. His eyes widened.
“It—it cut me,” he said, showing Ascher his palm. There was a line of blood drawn across it.
“No time for that,” Ascher shouted. “The creatures are getting through!”
Three of the beasts were gnashing at the metal net and had succeeded in pulling a few of the bars apart. Soon there would be a hole big enough for them to pass. Sevarin glanced at Emma before stepping toward the creatures.
He took slow steps, moving like someone with a fear of heights approaching the edge of a cliff. He held the dagger straight out. Its blade shone with a chaotic luster.
Emma spoke. “I believe in you, Sev.”
And through all the yipping, keening, and tearing sounds of the enraged Elki…
SEVARIN HEARD HER VOICE.
He heard it the way one hears a small bell during an earthquake. It strengthened him. He bared his teeth at the Elki and rushed forward.
He took one in the throat. The creature backed into the wall and slid down, twitching and sputtering. The red glow in its eyes dimmed as it settled into a slack-jawed death. He stabbed another Elki but could barely penetrate the muscle over its ribs. Gods, they were strong.
But he was a Sargonaut, and his people were the strongest of all.
“Go for the neck, armpits, or mouth!” Owen shouted.
Sevarin silently thanked the gods for Owen and his weird hobbies. He approached another of the creatures, waited for it to bark—a crazed, whiny yowlp—then stabbed upward, cutting past its jaw into the roof of its mouth. It fell back with a gurgling sound. The third one caught Sevarin’s arm with its teeth and tried to pull him toward it. Sevarin punched at its skull again and again—loud leathery thumps. The creature finally let go. Sevarin stabbed through one of its eyes. With a loud yelp, the creature collapsed to the ground and was still.
He ran around the room, stabbing and slashing at the monsters. They died in succession as the blade sent them thrashing to the ground.
When the last Elki had been killed, Sevarin rejoined the group. He struggled to catch his breath. He handed the dagger back to Owen, who made a No, keep it motion with his hands.
“You’re better with it,” he told Sevarin.
“Thanks, O. I won’t forget this. And no one’s gonna forget you were the one who saved our butts by bringing it in the first place.”
Owen looked away, no hint of satisfaction on his face. Sevarin put a hand on his shoulder.
“I believe you, you know.”
“About what?” Owen looked up at him.
“About those two Elki you killed. I always knew it was true, even when I was making jokes about it. I guess I was just jealous.”
Owen smiled a little at that. He kept smiling as Sevarin stood by his side, twirling the dagger in one of his strong, brown hands.
They heard clashing sounds outside. A noise like swords banging against wood.
“My men,” Ascher said. “They’re being overwhelmed.”
One of his soldiers spoke. “How can you tell?”
“Trust me. We need to get out of here somehow.”
Lily stepped forward. “I could cast a cloaking spell. It would make us invisible in the night as long as we stay in the bubble.”
“Not yet,” Ascher said. “We need to get out of this room first.”
Ascher’s wish was granted, but with a violent explosion that shattered the walls of the dining room. Strangely, the walls—along with the metal nets and Elki corpses—flew outward, as if the explosion had come from within. And yet the orphans were unharmed.
Someone very powerful had demolished the ranch, and as the night sky became visible and the gushing currents of freezing cold wind froze their faces, Ascher shouted with all the air in his lungs.
“Get down! Get down!”
CHAPTER 71
A s soon as Ascher’s words exploded out of his mouth, Emma dropped to the wooden floor, taking Lily and Calista with her.
“What’s happening?” Calista shouted over the wind.
“It’s him,” Emma said, and the image that popped into her mind was of a man with scraggly long hair walking through a wall of flames, his face covered in shadow. “Iolus.”
Barrel pushed himself into their circle. “We’re surrounded. Lily, if you know any shield spells, now would be the time.”
Lily looked ready to cry.
“I can’t,” she said. “I need quiet. I—I don’t even have a casting crystal!”
Barrel pulled out a glass bulb containing a semi-transparent fluid. “Drink this.”
Lily grabbed the bulb with shaky hands, pulled out the stopper, and drank. Emma remembered the name of the potion, Manaris Brew, the same one Lily had drunk before summoning Rocky. As soon as the liquid went down, her eyes began to flutter. When she opened them, Emma saw nothing but black. The change gave her face a batlike appearance.
“Okay,” Lily said.
THE EMPEROR’S SOLDIERS—MEN in leather armor wielding swords and strange-looking crossbows—swarmed up the hill. Ascher’s men emerged from the surrounding forest and went to work fending them off. After a few minutes, it became clear that the emperor’s men had the advantage. Emma estimated it would take only a few minutes until the orphans were left without protection. She didn’t know much about combat and warfare—Milo had always been the one interested in those things—but she knew a hopeless battle when she saw one.
Adding to the misery was the remaining group of Elki. They leaped forward out of the snowy night like demons, tackling Ascher’s soldiers and digging into them with their teeth. Men shrieked in agony as they were ripped apart.
One Elki howled up at the sky. The rest followed suit, tipping back their misshapen heads and exposing pale, fleshy throats.
“Orphans,” Lily shouted. “Come closer!”
Coral and Andres herded the orphans together between two dining room tables. Ascher shouted commands over them. “Get as low to the ground as possible!”
They crouched, and Emma watched as Lily rose from among them like a shepherdess among her lambs. The snowfall appeared to slow. Lily lifted her arms and looked up at the night sky. Her hair and eyelashes were already white with snow, and her chant was lost to the wind.
A strange, metallic warbling dimmed the whines of the Elki and the shouts of men fighting on the hill. It came from Lily’s hands, a sound like an aluminum tray being shaken. Emma watched, wonderstruck, as what appeared to be a semi-transparent dome dropped all around them. It was like being inside a giant soap bubble.
Savant & Feral (Digital Boxed Set): Books 1 and 2 of the Epic Luminether Fantasy Series Page 39