The Ethereal Squadron: A Wartime Fantasy (The Sorcerers of Verdun)

by Shami Stovall

  Vergess held out a hand. “It’s a deer.”

  A deer? Here?

  The sounds of the wood were dead. Animals didn’t dwell long near battlefields.

  Geist approached the beast, curiosity fueling her steps. Is it injured? Maybe a stray bullet brought it down?

  “Wait,” Vergess muttered as he glanced around. “What’s going on?”

  Battery shivered. “I can’t see a thing.”

  The closer she got, the more confused Geist became. The “deer” was much larger than any she had seen before. It twitched and writhed and took in raspy breaths at odd times, like it had two pairs of mismatched lungs. When she drew near, the beast jerked and kicked, tossing up leaves and dirt, but it settled down soon after with a long groan.

  Geist caught her breath.

  It wasn’t a deer. It was two—a doe and an antlered buck—melted together to form a horrendous amalgam. Both heads twisted about, all eight legs twitched and spasmed, their bodies jammed into one deformed lump. And the waxy sheen of the hide… Geist grabbed at her wrist, feeling the fabric that had fused to her flesh.

  The Grab-Hersteller Gas.

  With her eyes fully adjusted to the night, Geist panned her gaze to her surroundings. The road ahead was crimson with pools of gore. Everything stood still but the wind. Magic lingered on the air, as did the aroma of death.

  It was all around her.

  Battery walked up to get a look at the creature. He recoiled. “What a horrible monster. How is it still alive?”

  Geist grabbed his arm and jerked him back. “We have to run.”

  “What? Why?”

  “It’ll come for us. It might already be too late.”

  “What will?”

  “Run.”

  Ice sluiced through Geist’s veins, washing away all feeling. She dragged Battery away from the monstrosity and sprinted in the opposite direction, hoping Vergess would keep pace. As she wove through the trees, a yellow-greenish mist wafted between the trunks—slithering close, reaching out—but Geist leapt away, heedless to her new direction.

  A yearling buck, crazed and wild, bounded through the haze of the gas. It crashed into Battery and collapsed to the mud and detritus, its legs folding in on themselves and sinking into its very body. The animal screamed and flailed as Battery staggered to his feet.

  “What is this?” he asked, his voice breathless and shaken.

  Vergess leapt to the beast and briefly grazed its neck. The rotting power of his ruina magic killed the animal before it suffered any longer.

  The gas hungered for more. It came closer and closer, relentless in its thirst. Geist took Battery by the arm, and on the heels of panic, ran faster than she ever had before. Together they burst from the tree line and out onto one of the empty military roads of France. Wagon lines of muddy water glistened in the crescent moonlight. Vergess sprinted out after them, coming to a halt by Geist’s side.

  With the option to go north or south, Geist hesitated. South would lead them toward the Triple Entente, their allies, and north would take them to the German-controlled Fort Douaumont, the enemy.

  A small piece of Geist had hoped that the GH Gas used to destroy her team had been a fluke. Seeing it a second time stirred a deep hatred within her. She hated running. She hated feeling helpless. She hated that the gas had such power over her.

  But I’m not going to let it control me. I’m not going to sit by and do nothing. I won’t. I can’t. I can do this. I have to.

  Geist’s resolve burned hot in her chest and quickened her heartrate. But how could she combat the GH Gas when her commander wouldn’t believe her about the source of its power? No sorcerer was in the woods controlling the gas… it was simply there, lingering, looming just out of sight among the trees.

  The gas had likely been deployed from Fort Douaumont.

  Geist turned northward.

  Battery shook his head. “That’s the wrong way.”

  “We need to bring back evidence,” Geist stated simply. “The commander needs to know that GH Gas was here.”

  “That was the GH Gas? Why didn’t you say so?” He ran both hands through his dark brown hair. “It all makes sense. You should have said something.” Battery furrowed his brow and frowned. “You want to infiltrate the fort? Us? There’re Abomination Soldiers in the fort. Everyone knows. If we’re caught—”

  “We’re wasting time,” Vergess said. “We need to make a decision.”

  Battery shook his head. “This isn’t our mission. Our mission was—”

  “We’re members of the Ethereal Squadron,” Geist interjected. “Our objectives are greater than a single mission. Information about the GH Gas could be a turning point for the whole war.”

  Battery fell silent. He ran sweaty palms over his tunic and stared at the dirt road under his feet. Geist took the moment to relax her muscles and stare back at the tree line. The gas had yet to follow, but she didn’t doubt that it would pursue them if they stayed. Somehow, it always knew where they were.

  “We can’t stay here forever,” she whispered. “I need to know. Are you two with me?”

  Battery took in a ragged breath. “We already lost Albatross.”

  “We’ll lose a lot more if the enemy continues to use and develop GH Gas. Can you imagine men twisting together like those deer? We need to know how it works.”

  “Fine,” Battery said. “I’m with you.”

  Vergess nodded. “You don’t need to convince me. I’m in too.”

  Fort Douaumont sat on the highest ground in the area with a pentagon-shaped wall and a moat surrounding the base of the hill. Stillness settled over the German-manned 75mm guns and 155mm turrets on the parapet. Anti-personnel cannons swiveled on the corner wall towers. Off in the distance, still visible from the edge of the fort, stood the village of Douaumont, half-destroyed.

  Vergess knew the inside, he’d told them. He had been stationed at the fort before he was taken as a prisoner. The plan, as Geist laid out, was to sneak in, disable the guards, search for any information, either in the form of paperwork or smaller bombs, and escape the fort without raising an alarm. With Battery, Geist could become invisible. With Vergess, they could destroy any walls or doors that would prevent them from taking their evidence.

  It all seemed plausible to Geist, so when the enemy guards on the walls shuffled from one post to another, she knew she had to act.

  Geist ran to the wall. Her invisibility protected her better than any armor. She relished the feeling of power and ease of movement, and silently thanked Battery for his empowering sorcery. The masonry of the wall, once an obstacle she wouldn’t be able to scale, no longer prevented her passage. She slipped through it, slow and careful, concentrating the entire time.

  I wonder what would happen if my power dropped halfway through. Would I be harmed? Would it kill me? The thoughts haunted her every inch of stone she passed through.

  I really am a ghost, she thought, releasing her held breath once on the other side. I never knew specter sorcery could be so powerful.

  Geist ran to the corner tower, but the strength of Battery’s sorcery gave out halfway to her destination, the tether between them too short. She slammed her back against the wall and edged her way to the ladder. Exhaustion took hold, but she pushed it from her mind. As soon as Battery got close again, she would be fine. She just needed to last a little longer.

  Climbing the ladder took time. Geist’s arms shook as she reached the last ten rungs—especially her wounded arm, as the injury reopened and began to weep. If she made a noise, the gunner in the tower wouldn’t hesitate to fire down on her. She gritted her teeth and pressed upward.

  Geist pulled herself up onto the tower platform. The gunner at the cannon heard nothing. She held her breath, inched forward, and withdrew her trench dagger from her pocket. The German soldier hummed a gentle folksong.

  Gunshots would only attract attention. Geist punched her short weapon into the side of the soldier’s neck. Unfortunately, it didn
’t kill the man instantly. He whipped around, blood gushing from his neck, his hand shaky on the butt of his handgun. Geist stabbed his neck again as the man yanked his weapon up, his eyes wide and already unfocused.

  Geist then grabbed for the firearm. The man grunted and tried to shout, his voice drowned in hot blood. The noises reminded Geist of the melting men in the GH Gas. It took all her willpower not to imagine Cutter liquefying before her eyes.

  She jerked the weapon from the soldier’s grasp and stabbed him a third time, this time right between the ribs. The man fell forward in a slump, soaked in crimson. Geist exhaled, thankful to have taken the man without the other towers noticing.

  With the corner tower unmanned, Geist signaled from the gunner window. Battery and Vergess crept out of their hiding spot near the shrubbery of the moat and ran to the wall in a half-crouch. Geist let down a rope and allowed them up, unnoticed by the enemy. Together they slid down the ladder and stood in the moonlit shadow of the wall until the patrolling soldiers of the fort courtyard made their rounds. They spoke no words, and, once assembled, Battery empowered Geist once more.

  Of the nineteen forts that surrounded Verdun, Fort Douaumont had been one of the first to fall. It stood as an outlier, not as strategically important as the other forts, but the loss had still struck a blow to the morale of the French soldiers. Its insignificance meant it wasn’t as manned, not even by the enemy: perfect for prowling about.

  They darted across the courtyard and ran straight for the side door into the main building. Locks no longer held the challenge they once did. Geist pushed her good arm through the metal and unlatched the door into the fort. Battery and Vergess slipped in after, and together they stood in the dim hallway with a sense of unease.

  “Where to now?” Battery whispered.

  “Wait,” Geist said. “Do you speak German?”

  “Of course. Two of my uncles are from House Vogt of Trier.”

  Geist snorted. I should’ve guessed that the Hamilton family would have connections with every major house this side of the Black Sea. “Good.”

  Vergess gave the other man a sidelong glance. “And you gave me trouble for knowing German?”

  “You’re different. You know… Secretive. And the way everyone talks about you is—”

  “Enough,” Geist said. “We don’t have time for this. We need weapons and uniforms.”

  Vergess nodded. “I know where the armory will be.”

  “Of course you do,” Battery muttered under his breath.

  “I’ll get the guns,” Vergess said, ignoring Battery’s remark even though Geist was certain he heard.

  “Very well,” she said. “If you get us some rifles, Battery and I will head for the barracks for uniforms. We can meet at the entrance to the barracks afterward.” She nodded to Vergess and then grabbed Battery by the sleeve. “C’mon. Follow me.”

  Battery replied with a nod.

  Vergess jogged off in the opposite direction and disappeared around a corner. Battery glowered in his direction, and Geist sighed. The two men were just determined to dislike each other.

  Geist had been stationed in enough French forts to know they shared a similar layout and construction. It didn’t take long to navigate the narrow hallways. Geist scouted ahead, invisible, but the soldiers were few and far between. Despite that, Battery dawdled behind, almost cowering in Geist’s shadow.

  The barracks were occupied. Hundreds of soldiers slept in cots, unaware of the enemy lurking not twenty feet away. Geist, alone, ghosted into the main room and rummaged through the trunks and containers for the dark green uniforms of the German army. The darkness hindered her sight but not her movements.

  I should develop a magic that would allow me to see in the dark, she thought as snatched a belt off the post of a nearby cot. I know my father and mother can, so it has to be in my bloodline. If I had known apex magic was so useful, I would’ve learned it sooner. She chuckled to herself. Maybe I could ask Vergess to teach me.

  Geist hadn’t seen the soldier wandering from his cot. The man tripped on her invisible form and caught himself before he went face-first into the concrete flooring. Geist held her breath and slid under the nearest cot, panic overtaking her thoughts.

  “What’s that?” the soldier asked in groggy German. “Who’s there?”

  He got on his hands and knees, his eyes wide despite the sleep in his voice. Geist remained still—a surreal feeling of disbelief washing over her as the man turned his gaze upon her several times without seeing.

  “Koch,” another soldier whispered in a heated tone. “Get some sleep.”

  “I thought I tripped on someone.”

  “You’re dreaming of phantoms.”

  “Will you both be quiet?” a third soldier chimed in. “Koch, you shell-shocked lunatic, get back to your cot! We wake at dawn.”

  The worried soldier—Koch—got up off the floor and brushed himself off. “I could have sworn…”

  “If you don’t get back to your cot, so help me, I’ll—”

  “I have to piss.”

  “You always have to piss. Hurry up.”

  Under the cover of Koch’s heavy steps, Geist rolled out from the cot and stood. She didn’t have complete uniforms, but it would have to do. The soldiers were antsy and sure to stay awake for several minutes longer. She didn’t have time to wait.

  Geist slid through the wall between the barracks and the hallway to find Battery muttering to himself. He had his head down and his shoulders bunched up around his neck.

  “—if we make it through this, I swear I’ll—”

  “Battery,” Geist whispered. “Get ahold of yourself and change.”

  He snapped his gaze up at the sound of her voice, but his eyes remained unfocused. “You have the uniforms?”

  She handed one over. Once out of her grasp, the fabric shimmered into view.

  Battery looked over the garments and frowned. “Where’s the rest?”

  “That’s all I could get. I doubt anyone will notice. Just put it on.”

  Battery awkwardly unhooked his belt and peeled off his British-khaki tunic. Geist would have ignored him, but something on the youth’s back caught her attention.

  Geist suppressed a gasp. All across Battery’s spine, from between his shoulder blades down to the small of his back, were long medical scars, each more jagged than the last. Not a handful or a dozen, but hundreds. And some were fresh—less than a year old. Tiny fragments of opals were inlayed in the wounds, adding a twisted sparkle to the scars.

  Battery caught her staring.

  “It’s no big deal,” he said, his tone terse.

  Geist turned away.

  She had seen such injuries before. They were archaic attempts to help sorcerer children. Opals had a latent magic that had attracted sorcerers since the dawn of time. Some jackass had the great idea to alter sorcerers who couldn’t focus properly with the stones, and because of its success, the practice gained popularity.

  But the surgery, when done young, stunted your growth and shortened your lifespan. Sure, the fledgling sorcerer focused—sometimes too much, almost to the point of mania—but the procedure still worked, no matter how barbaric it all was.

  “Did Victory and Blick have the same surgery?” Geist asked.

  “No,” Battery said as he rammed a foot through the uniform pant leg. “They didn’t have problems focusing. Just me.”

  Trouble focusing. That was why some sorcerer parents mutilated their children.

  Geist returned to changing. She had never done so in front of a man—she had avoided it at all costs, for obvious reasons—and the faux-exhibition caused her to flush. Geist couldn’t see the bright red of her skin, but she could feel it. She also couldn’t see the clothing she was stepping into, making dressing an arduous ordeal. With all the grace of a blind child, she groped around her uniform and fumbled through the motions of dressing, hoping everything went together.

  Battery, finished long before Geist, straightened
his collar and folded the bottom of his pant legs to compensate for his height. “Potentia is difficult to learn,” he said, his voice still shaking. “It’s far more demanding than other schools of magic. Most sorcerers would struggle with it, I think.”

  “Probably. I’ve never seen it before.”

  “You study specter magic, right? Was it… difficult for you?”

  Geist slid the German belt through the loops and cursed at the odd latch and fastening system. Why aren’t belts universal? Why are they all so different?

  “It wasn’t difficult,” she said absently. “It came naturally.”

  “I just figured that, since you’re also, you know, smaller, that you had maybe—”

  “No. I’ve never been operated on.”

  Battery fell silent. Geist finished dressing and dropped her invisibility. Her uniform, ill-fitting, needed adjustment. She tucked and straightened what she could, but her attention fell back to Battery on several occasions. He stared at the floor, unseeing.

  I can’t let him dwell like this.

  “That doesn’t mean I didn’t have a hard time studying magic,” Geist said, keeping her voice low and hoping to cheer him up. “My parents disapproved of me developing specter magic. They wanted me to study corpus magic instead.”

  “Like Cross?”

  “Something like that. They wanted me to alter flesh instead of mend it. Needless to say, that didn’t work out. My father isn’t a patient man. When I didn’t meet his expectations he… let’s just say he wrote me off as a failure. He was too busy with my brothers to notice anything else I might be doing.”

  “I know a thing or two about that,” Battery said with a sardonic smile.

  Geist chuckled. Free of his melancholy, Battery gathered up their old uniforms and crammed them into a cootie bag. The lice-ridden clothing inside the bag would hide any trace of their presence until it was too late.

  Vergess rounded the corner of the hall, his back to the wall at all points. He carried three Mauser rifles close to his chest, but relaxed the moment he spotted Geist and Battery. When he jogged over, Geist tossed him a uniform.