by Frank Morin
Dierk interrupted and gave Verena another hug. Connor motioned that he would explain more later. The question tugged at Verena’s mind, but it had to jostle with the dozens of other questions she also needed to follow up on.
Dierk said, “Jean’s done a brilliant job, no doubt about that. We need you too, though. Our work seemed empty without you. It’s good to have you back.”
“So tell me what you’ve all been working on. I didn’t understand half of what everyone was so excited about,” she said as Kilian led them into town toward Lord Eberhard’s manor house.
Jean said, “There’s so much to tell. We’ll need half the day to catch you up on everything.”
Dierk nodded. “We’ve got production for most of the important mechanicals up and running again.” He clapped Hamish on the shoulder. “But the majority of our efforts have been focused on developing your new Juggernaut armor.”
“Juggernaut? I like the sound of that,” Hamish said. Then he wrapped Jean in an enthusiastic embrace.
She glowed with joy. They’d greeted each other with unabashed joy, and their happiness warmed Verena’s heart. Jean said, “Wait till you see what we’ve done! We should have a prototype ready for testing in the next month.”
“Whatever you’ve got, I’ll need it within a week.”
“A week?” Jean gasped.
“We also have a lot to talk about.” Hamish gestured at Aifric. “Her family tried assassinating the queen. They nearly succeeded, but ‘nearly’ doesn’t work with that woman.”
Aifric looked grave. “Student Eighteen’s father and two other senior assassins lost their lives in the attempt.”
“I’m so sorry,” Jean exclaimed. She touched Aifric’s arm and said with heartfelt sincerity, “Is there anything we can do to help her?”
“Just knowing you’re all here to support her is enough for now.”
Sometimes Verena found it a bit mind-bending to think about all the different women living inside Aifric’s head, but Jean seemed to have no trouble treating each version of Aifric as a separate, beloved friend.
As they entered Lord Eberhard’s manor house and proceeded to Jean’s spacious office, Hamish and Aifric together told the harrowing tale of their failed assault on the queen in Donleavy. Dierk looked horrified, and Jean gripped Hamish’s hand with white-knuckled intensity.
“You could have been killed,” she whispered.
“It was a close thing. I have no idea how we’re going to stop her, but at the moment we need to focus on stopping Harley. She’s leading an army against Merkland. Rory will be outnumbered and underpowered.”
Verena frowned. “It sounds like Harley could probably destroy his entire army by herself. I still don’t understand whys he’s bothering with an army.”
They glanced to Kilian who said, “Without us to aid them, she definitely could. I’m hoping Ailsa can shed light on the details in her next communication, but I suspect my mother is sending a message to the rest of the nation that any army with Harley at the head is invincible. It helps motivate them to support her.”
Connor grimaced. “And keeps them afraid of giving her a reason to lead the army against them instead.”
“If she wins, she’ll lock down the entire country under her thumb. No one will dare challenge her,” Verena added. That only heightened the desperate need to send her loved ones into harm’s way. The stakes were higher than ever.
Hamish nodded. “That’s why I need whatever you can get done within the week.”
Jean looked terrified. “You can’t mean to challenge her. The armor won’t be done, won’t be tested. You won’t be ready.”
Kilian said, “He won’t be alone. We have a few days to plan how best to take her down. She’s a very experienced general. She survived all the pivotal battles of the Tallan wars, so she might underestimate the danger she’ll face in this little clash for Merkland.”
He surveyed them all seriously. “I’m not going to lie to you all. We face a dire threat. We lack the time to mobilize enough forces. Rory’s already got Ilse, Lukas, and the Crushers. We’re the only other ones coming.”
Verena knew he was right, but she couldn’t shake a feeling of shame that she’d agreed to let them face their deadliest fight without her.
Kilian added, “This battle could very well determine the fate of the entire continent. If we lose, the revolution will die in its infancy. Harley and my mother would no doubt build on that momentum to invade Granadure, and we are far from ready to stop them.”
He did not point out that if they lost in Merkland, there was a very good chance all of them would be dead. If that happened, Verena wasn’t sure she would survive the heartbreak. No doubt the rest of the continent would fall. They needed Kilian’s leadership and Connor’s curse if they wanted even a glimmer of a chance at defeating Queen Dreokt.
Verena squeezed Connor’s hand, drawing comfort from his presence. He glanced at her and gave her an encouraging smile. She tried to return it, but she felt sick with fear. She hadn’t struggled to hard to return to him only to let him die alone without her.
Jean took a long, shuddering breath and managed a weak smile. “Then we have a lot of work to do.”
Dierk spoke for the first time. He sat at the end of the table, looking deeply concerned, but resolute. “All of our lives and the lives of everyone we love hang in the balance here. We cannot hold back. We must destroy them, fight them with every weapon at our disposal, no matter how horrible.”
“What are you suggesting?” Verena asked. She had never seen Dierk look so miserable but determined. He had taken Ingrid’s death very badly, but she read an iron-hard resolve in his eyes.
“Porphyry.”
She did not like where the conversation was going.
Kilian asked, “What about porphyry?”
“I’ve been experimenting with the powder Connor sent to us.”
“You haven’t,” Verena gasped. Connor had mentioned he’d recovered some, but in the blur of everything else that had happened, she had not considered what that meant. “We did some initial testing at the border when we captured those rampagers, but porphyry is so incredibly dangerous. When we quickened it, it triggered uncontrollable rage.”
“Exactly,” Dierk said grimly. “I plan to unleash that rage upon Harley and her army.”
Verena shuddered, imagining the horror that would sweep across that army as thousands upon thousands of soldiers were swept up in rampager fury.
Hamish looked ashen. “They would tear themselves apart.”
Dierk nodded, looking sick, but resolute. “Better they tear themselves apart than tear Merkland apart.”
Kilian sat back in his chair and said softly, “I don’t like it.” When Dierk started to protest he added, “But I’m willing to consider it.”
Jean exclaimed, “You can’t be serious. It’s insane. You told me you were exploring how to safely handle porphyry. You didn’t say anything about building a rage-murder weapon.”
Dierk regarded her gravely. “I did what I had to do. Would you feel better killing them all yourself?”
Kilian spoke into the silence that fell over the group as they considered that ugly question. “Many battles are won with only a fraction of either army actually dying, but in this case I suspect Harley will not allow her forces to retreat. That means a fight with no quarter given from either side. Rory and Ivor and their supporters cannot retreat either. One side or the other must conquer in Merkland.”
Dierk nodded. “We face a terrible choice. Do we meet them on the field of battle and commit to killing each one of them individually, or do we consider unleashing this horrible weapon with the hopes that they’ll damage themselves sufficiently that the survivors will retreat and leave us alone, at least for a while?”
Verena squeezed Connor’s hand, feeling close to tears as she considered the terrible decision. They had faced battle and war together, had seen people they knew and loved die in the fighting, but they were consideri
ng death on a whole new scale.
No one spoke for a moment, but finally Jean said softly, “There has to be a better way. Couldn’t we target Harley specifically, try to isolate and remove her? If we did that, might the rest of the army retreat?”
“Are you willing to risk the lives of everyone here who depends upon us for their safety?” Dierk asked softly. “If Merkland falls, Altkalen will be next. Where do you think they would strike after that?”
Jean rose and paced slowly around the table, clearly struggling with the same concerns that swarmed through Verena’s mind. The rest of them sat quietly as they considered the terrible choice.
Connor finally spoke. “I vote that we attack Harley. I don’t know if we can kill her. I was not able to the last time I faced her, but if we work together we might be able to.”
The others started to nod, except for Dierk, who did not look convinced. Verena wanted to go to him, hug him, try to reassure him that they would not let the other helpless people they knew die like Ingrid had.
Kilian spoke. “I support the plan, and I’m proud of all of you for working so hard to defend our land, but not getting caught up in the bloodlust that destroys so many during wartime. However, it’s unwise not to have a backup plan. Dierk, prepare your weapon, but hold it in reserve. If we’re blessed with a bit of Tallan’s luck, maybe we won’t need it.”
That was not a great solution, but perhaps it was the best one. Dierk nodded and rose.
Verena hated that they were faced with such choices, but she stiffened her resolve to do everything in her power to help safeguard her friends against the dangers they were willingly confronting. She rose and said, “Like Jean said, we have a lot of work to do.”
Jean grinned at her suddenly. “And we also have a little surprise for you.”
71
Affections Are Flighty
Connor walked hand-in-hand with Verena down the cobbled streets of Faulenrost as the group followed Jean, who seemed ready to burst with excitement. Snow clung to the edges of the streets, but the foot traffic had cleared the main lanes. It was cold, but calm. Columns of smoke rose straight from chimneys into the crisp, blue sky.
The picturesque little town looked even more appealing under a coating of snow, and the townsfolk went about their daily routines with smiles and jokes, most of which Connor couldn’t understand. He really needed to start learning Grandurian.
“Do you have any idea what this surprise is?” Verena asked as they rounded a corner and headed toward a large barn near the outskirts of town.
“I haven’t got a clue.”
He’d ask Hamish, but his friend didn’t look like he wanted to ever let Jean’s hand go. They were talking and laughing together, despite how often Jean urged the others to hurry. Kilian, Aifric, and Gisela rounded out their little party.
As they neared the barn, one of the massive doors slid open and Dierk stepped out. He waved enthusiastically and beckoned them on.
Verena grinned and said, “It has to be one of their new projects. I hate how little I know about what’s been going on.”
“I’m sure you’ll pick it all up before nightfall,” Connor assured her.
He was glad she’d come with them. Walking among the Builders and refugees of Schwinkendorf seemed to fill her with vibrant energy. Her eyes glowed with joy, and she kept breaking away to rush over to greet people as they passed.
When they followed Jean and Dierk into the barn, Connor paused to let his eyes adjust to the dim light. After the bright winter sunlight outside, the barn seemed shadowed.
Jean grabbed Verena’s other hand and tugged her forward, between stacks of wooden crates. The huge barn was warm, and it rang with voices and the banging of tools. Connor caught sight of several groups working around heavy wooden tables, but didn’t pause to see what they were doing. Walls of supplies separated each group and formed a warren of little hallways that Jean whisked them down.
After a moment, they neared the rear of the barn. Another set of doors stood closed there. When they rounded a final corner, Connor stopped to stare.
In a large open space near those outer doors stood a sleek little flying craft.
Verena gasped, one hand going to her mouth, and both Jean and Dierk laughed with joy.
Jean proclaimed with obvious pride, “Behold the Swift reborn!”
“Oh, Jean, it’s beautiful,” Verena exclaimed. She gave Jean an enthusiastic hug.
“Dierk led the team that did the work. I just helped with planning,” Jean explained.
Verena hugged him next, and the bespeckled Builder flushed with embarrassed pride. “You didn’t think we’d let you awaken without a personal flyer, did you?”
Verena looked close to tears as she rushed to the craft and slid a hand along its gently curving flank. “I thought I’d have to rebuild it myself.”
Dierk huffed. “Fine friends we’d be if we let you do all the work.”
Jean said, “I hope you don’t mind, but we took the liberty of adding some of the enhancements we developed for the Hawk.”
Dierk nodded toward the enclosed canopy. “Your original Swift left you too exposed.”
Connor agreed with that. If Verena had been riding in this new Swift, she might have better survived that crash. He followed her to the new Swift and together they inspected it as Jean and Dierk talked over each other in their excitement to explain all of its components.
It was a marvel. The little craft was a little larger than the original Swift, with that enclosed canopy instead of the simple front and back supports. In addition to a comfortable, padded pilot seat for Verena, it included one other cramped little seat close behind. That would be a lot more comfortable than the little stirrups they’d used on her original Swift for passengers.
Jean and Dierk were quick to assure Verena that the bigger Swift lacked none of her original craft’s mobility. They had packed thrusters into every plane, allowing the nimble craft to twist, turn, roll, and spin just as fast as the original ever had. The new one was significantly faster, safer, and more stable. The stubby wings, packed with weapons, would certainly help.
“And Dierk himself tested it,” Jean said eagerly.
That was a surprise. Connor had always heard that Dierk was a terrible flyer. Hamish started to laugh, but cut it short when Jean shot him an angry look.
Verena looked startled. “Dierk, you used to hate flying boring old windriders.”
“After Ingrid died, I dedicated myself to mastering flight. If I had been a better flyer, I might have been able to help her, or at least train her better so she wouldn’t have died.”
Sorrow etched his features, but he looked unusually resolute. Connor felt proud of him for working so hard to overcome his grief. Verena hugged him and said softly, “Ingrid would be so proud to know how well you’ve honored her memory.”
“Thank you.”
Jean added, “Dierk now acts as our lead test pilot. He might give you and Hamish a real challenge in the air.”
“Good for you, Dierk!” Hamish laughed, clapping the smaller Builder on the shoulder. “We’ll have to race.”
“When we can find the time for it,” Jean interjected.
Verena completed her initial circuit, looking as happy as Connor had ever seen. She didn’t speak, but simply walked around the new Swift, touching it, smiling so wide her cheeks looked permanently locked back.
“What do you think?” Jean finally asked.
Verena flung her arms around Jean and hugged her again. “I love it.”
She hugged Dierk again and tears shone in her eyes. She spoke with a voice heavy with emotion. “You are the truest friends. I feel like you don’t even need me any more.”
“Nonsense,” Dierk said. “We’ve only continued the work you started.”
Jean nodded, her expression warm and serious. “We need you now more than ever, Verena. We’ve pushed the limits of what we can do with the research you’d done, but we need you to help us make the next break
through.”
“We’ll work on it together.”
Kilian said, “Jean. Dierk. Thank you both. I couldn’t imagine a better way to show Verena how much we care for her and how happy we are to have her back.”
Connor took Verena’s hand. “What are you waiting for? I know you can’t wait to get that thing into the air.”
She laughed, glancing longingly at the Swift. “I do.” She hesitated and asked, “Would you like to come?”
He wanted nothing more than to join her, but sensed it wasn’t yet the time. So he shook his head. “Next time. I think you need some time to just fly alone. You and the sky and the new Swift.”
She smiled. “Thanks.”
“Have fun out there.”
She scrambled into the Swift and caressed the control rods, familiarizing herself with the many components. Connor and Hamish pulled the heavy doors wide as the thrusters ignited with a whooshing of air. The craft lifted off and the shield windows flowed across the wide window openings in the canopy. Verena waved once more as she hovered out through the doors.
Then the thrusters roared like exultant pedras and the Swift leaped into the sky with startling speed. Connor watched her ascend at a steep angle, growing smaller and smaller until she disappeared from view.
He wedged a piece of quartzite into his cheek and sucked on it. As soon as he felt the liquid warmth begin pooling in his head, he tapped it to his eyes. His vision sharpened and the distant speck of Verena’s Swift grew until he could watch her diving, spinning, and rolling, putting the craft through its paces. He was glad he hadn’t joined her. He would have reached the stomach-lurch point by then.
After a few seconds though, his vision started to flicker and dance. He’d felt the green frequency of magic rolling past, but had expected internal-focused quartzite to act like his primaries and secondaries, without interference from the higher-frequency power source.
It wasn’t as bad as when he tried to tap elemental air, but the interference did creep in, like oil slithering across the calm surface of a loch. He lost connection with quartzite and his vision snapped back to normal. Then the connection returned and his gaze swooped back into the sky. Frowning, he tried to stabilize the connection, but it continued to flicker. As his gaze shifted repeatedly back and forth between normal and Pathfinder enhanced, the effect made him feel a bit dizzy.