The instant Vergess made it back with Blick, Geist ripped off the paneling and triggered the shell. They had two seconds to duck and find cover and Geist pushed them behind the solid metal of the gun’s turntables. They hit the ground as the explosion went off—an explosion of gas and shrapnel. The field, filling with German soldiers, was suddenly covered in a fog of yellowish-green.
And the gas came for Geist and her team.
But Heinrich’s sorcery worked much like her own. His anti-magic, when empowered, encompassed more than just himself. Geist, Battery, Vergess, and Blick, all remained intact while the GH Gas swirled around them.
Battery gritted his teeth and scrunched his eyes. Every second got worse and he dug his nails into his scalp as he lie on the ground. Geist furrowed her brow. “What’s wrong?” she asked. “Battery?”
“It… hurts.”
His back bled. The opals in his spine couldn’t handle the anti-magic bubble that was keeping them alive. They were trembling under his skin, like they wanted to wrench free of their moorings. Geist could see it even through the canvas of his shirt. If Battery lost focus, his magic would leave Heinrich, and everybody except for the German researcher would die to the gas.
Geist took hold of Battery’s hand. Her fingers were slick with blood, but she laced them through his and squeezed. She didn’t say anything—there wasn’t anything to say. He squeezed her hand back, his fingernails cutting into her good hand. She didn’t care. She didn’t feel the pain, not from her arm or injuries, it was all too much to take in. All she knew was that she needed Battery to stay strong for everyone else involved.
Geist closed her eyes. She didn’t want to know if Battery failed. If she was going to die, she would rather it strike her unawares, rather than melting away like Cutter, Buttons, or Little Wick. Even a bullet to the chest would be preferred to the terror of the GH Gas.
Please, God. Let this work. Let this work.
The gas whispered.
Geist almost opened her eyes. She could almost hear words as the mist drifted in and out of her ears. They were terrible things—the stuff of the most unspeakable nightmares—but she couldn’t make out more than a few syllables. What was the GH Gas made of? What was it trying to tell her? Geist shook her head and counted her heartbeats, trying hard to pray.
Time refused to move. Geist could hear gunshots and shouting and even screams, but they were distant, as if coming through a fog. She waited and waited, never once opening her eyes.
After some time, Battery pulled on her hand. Geist looked up. He stared back at her, his sweat-drenched hair sticking to his face.
“It’s over,” he said.
Geist looked around. The GH Gas had moved on. The open field, once of mud and grass, resembled the floor of a meat-processing plant. Bodies in various states of decay and liquefaction lay strewn across the battlefield. Clothing had fused into the flesh and become one with the charnel. Clouds of the GH Gas lingered on the farthest corners, swirling around as if waiting for more victims.
Geist turned away and shut her eyes again, finally allowing herself to breathe.
They had done it.
They were the saviors of Paris.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
THE GREAT WAR
GEIST SAT ON A BROKEN fence post on the road to Fort Belleville. The field just beyond the horizon was still littered with bodies, and the faint odor of viscera was still detectable in the evening wind, but as she stared at the orange rays of the sunset piercing the deep purple clouds overhead, something like peace entered her heart and warmed her from the inside out.
It was these small moments that made life worth living.
Tomorrow, at dawn, they would bury the soldiers who died in battle among the serene French hillsides, including the enemy soldiers. Some thought burying an enemy soldier among their allies was an insult, but Geist knew the truth. At some level, they were all very much alike.
Staring at her mangled hand made that clear. Cross couldn’t fix her, no matter how many times she tried. Geist pulled a long glove over the hand to cover it. The loss was a small price to pay for victory, and she would happily pay it ten times over if it meant keeping the people of France safe.
All of France cheered for the victory over the Germans. Morale ran high. After all, Germany and Austria-Hungary had attacked them with their full might and they had still defeated them.
The crunch of dirt under boots jolted Geist out of her reverie. To her relief, it was only Cross, approaching out of the fiery light of the sunset.
“You found me,” Geist commented as she turned back to the sun. “Are you done with your work?”
“Yes. Everyone’s back on their feet.”
“Even Vergess and Blick?”
“Vergess was shaken. I don’t think he’s as used to pain as the others. But once I healed him, everything was fine. He’s resting now. Blick is already flirting with the nurses—take that as you will.”
“They sound back to normal.”
Cross walked over to the broken fence and smiled. “Battery sings your praises at every turn. He says you gave him the strength to keep the gas at bay.”
“I’m glad,” Geist replied. “I know he looks up to me, but the truth is, I would’ve been lost without him. This whole operation—I couldn’t have done it all without him.”
“The opals in his spine need to be replaced. They were cracked by the gas. It’s a delicate procedure, but I’ll make it happen.”
“If anyone can do it, it’s you.”
“Oh, and Tinker is starting magi-tech production.”
Geist’s stomach turned. More magi-tech meant more weapons.
And more weapons meant more war. Just like Heinrich had predicted.
“He’s also crafting more anti-gas,” Cross added in a happier tone. “In the future, we won’t have to worry about it so much. All thanks to you.”
“Thanks to the team, you mean.”
“Indeed. They must feel the same way. Both Vergess and Dreamer have requested to stay as part of your unit.”
Geist had almost forgotten that Vergess and Dreamer were Verdun sorcerers. “I couldn’t imagine going on another mission without them,” she said. But her voice shook. She never thought any soldier would accept her for who she was, and now all of her friends knew—and willingly stood by her side.
“They know what you are now. Don’t they.”
Geist nodded.
“And who you are?”
Another nod. “It had to happen. It was that or abandon the mission, and I couldn’t… I couldn’t let what I am stop me again. And I figured they would report me, but the others… they accepted me. All of me.”
“You have the soul of a knight, Florence,” Cross said. “That’s what they admire so much about you. You’re a good soldier—in every regard.”
Geist didn’t know what to say.
“Pardon me.”
Geist and Cross glanced back. Victory stood on the road, his uniform hat in hand. He smiled at Cross, a glint in his eye as though amused. She stifled a girlish giggle and gave Geist a quick wave.
“We’ll speak again soon,” she said.
The pair walked off towards the sunset, whispering affectionately to each other. She watched them until they disappeared down the road, no doubt looking for a more private spot to enjoy each other’s company.
Geist’s thoughts went immediately to Vergess. They still had a war to finish before anything could be final, but having him close made some fights bearable.
The last of the sun faded, leaving a wake of darkness in its passing.
The gold sunsets of France.
The stars that bloomed as the light dims.
Love.
Although darkness threatened to tear the world apart, although madmen with weapons beyond their understanding wanted to warp the world in their own twisted image, Geist took comfort in the fact that these beautiful moments had not been tarnished.
And then, as if the world could he
ar her thoughts and respond in kind, the moon came out from behind a cloud and bathed the world in brilliant silver light. The soft light, the warmth of the night air, resonated within Geist as though she were walking in a dream, somewhere even the worst of the war could never touch her.
She’d remember this moment for all time.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
S.A. Stovall grew up in California’s central valley with a single mother and little brother. Despite no one in her family earning a degree higher than a GED, she put herself through college (earning a BA in History), and then continued on to law school where she obtained her Juris Doctorate.
As a child, Stovall’s favorite novel was Island of the Blue Dolphins by Scott O’Dell. The adventure on a deserted island opened her mind to ideas and realities she had never given thought before—and it was at that moment Stovall realized story telling (specifically fiction) became her passion. Anything that told a story, be it a movie, book, video game or comic, she had to experience. Now, as a professor and author, Stovall wants to add her voice to the myriad stories in the world and she hopes you enjoy.
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Table of Contents
Author’s Note
Chapter One Verdun
Chapter Two Grave-Maker Gas
Chapter Three Fort Belleville
Chapter Four Team Assessments
Chapter Five Fort Souville
Chapter Six Zeppelin
Chapter Seven Fort Douaumont
Chapter Eight Testing Grounds
Chapter Nine Fraternizing
Chapter Ten Operation Prometheus
Chapter Eleven Team Assignment
Chapter Twelve Train Tickets
Chapter Thirteen Camaraderie
Chapter Fourteen The Evening Rose
Chapter Fifteen The English Channel
Chapter Sixteen Antwerp, Belgium
Chapter Seventeen Inspection
Chapter Eighteen Occupation
Chapter Nineteen The Resistance
Chapter Twenty Liège, Belgium
Chapter Twenty-one Museum
Chapter Twenty-two Chateau Coppens
Chapter Twenty-three Regroup
Chapter Twenty-four Spa, Belgium
Chapter Twenty-five OHL
Chapter Twenty-six The Magic-Technology General
Chapter Twenty-seven Defector
Chapter Twenty-eight Revelation
Chapter Twenty-nine Abomination
Chapter Thirty Flight
Chapter Thirty-one The Wire
Chapter Thirty-two The New Schieffen Plan
Chapter Thirty-three Anti-Gas
Chapter Thirty-four The Paris Guns
Chapter Thirty-five The Final Argument of Kings
Chapter Thirty-six The Great War
About the Author
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The Ethereal Squadron: A Wartime Fantasy (The Sorcerers of Verdun) Page 39