by Nikolas Lee
“The citizens of Sol were inspired by your sacrifice in the Yard,” said Solara, her arms crossed, eyes kept on the great chair. “The masons hurried their production, and the people lovingly gave their worship. By dawn, my mother will have her Throne.”
I was stunned, shocked. I had done this?
But then, my left ear began to buzz, light yet noticeable enough. And when I turned left, to look out over the City Under the Sun, the buzzing filled both my ears. And then, I knew this was no ordinary buzzing. No. It was an electrical disturbance if ever I’d felt it. Not from a machine. Not from a metal soldier of Illyria. But so strong, and so loud...it could only belong to a god.
“Let’s hope what you say is true,” I said grimly. “Because by dawn...we’re going to have some very unwelcomed company.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
THE HAND OF THE MOON
The High Heat was heavier and hotter than I ever imagined it would be, such a departure from the cool breezes and gentle sunlight that constantly washed over the Isle of Illyria.
I had left the Isle as begrudgingly as I had ever left a place. Lady Borea wants me dead. And this is how she suspects that ending will come. Though, I had to admit, not being plagued by the voices beneath her stone courtyard was a relief.
I flew through the heavy, black clouds of the Southernlands with Oceanus at my side. Four rings of white water spun around her body so quickly they had provided her with flight, humming loudly as they did. She smelled of sea and salt, and had not looked at me once since I saw her in the Hall. She was different now. I could just feel it. She was so quiet. So brooding. I cannot even read her thoughts, I realized.
We descended through the clouds, the red sands of the Southernlands sprawled out in all directions below us. An army appeared in the distance. Oceanus’s army.
I had not heard much about her since I had joined the ranks of Illyria’s gods a year ago, though I did know she had not taken Ion’s departure lightly. And neither had her father. But for Oceanus to have been granted the position of High General at the age of fourteen...well, it was safe to assume she had been doing her work at the Academy.
The Isle of Illyria had dwindled behind me now, its floating walls of rock and sandstone lost to the Forever Clouds of the desert. Othum had refused to allow Illyria any closer to the Human Citadel of Sol. “Too close and we risk our home to Solian attack,” he had said.
In Illyria’s stead, he had sent the Guardians, just as he had done for the past two hundred years. Cowards, the lot of them, I could not help but think, my fists clenched as the wind roared in my ears. When was the last time they had even seen a battle?
I followed Oceanus as her rings cut the air just above the heads of Illyria’s soldiers. They marched over the High Heat’s sands, their numbers in the upper hundreds, every twenty of them divided into a perfect phalanx. There were soldiers whose arms and legs and bodies were constructed of the finest metal, their limbs guarded by wide shields of diamond that twinkled a light pink; elves light in shimmering silver armor, their hands occupied by electrified spears; smatterings of Frost Giants with their skin and breath of ice; Mountain Giants with their bodies of rock so heavy the sands nearly swallowed them with each step they took. There were even Fire Giants, their shoulders ablaze with blue flames that licked at the hot air of the desert. All of them were races given land and riches in exchange for worship and obedience to the gods.
Oceanus reached the front of the line and landed on a golden chariot being pulled by two horses with red scales in place of hair. Only, it wasn’t the horses that pulled my eyes upon my landing in the chariot...it was the dwarf who manned their reins.
“I did not know dwarves were allowed to drive chariots,” I said, a smile spreading across my face as he turned.
His smile was just as wide as mine, if not wider, as that was what Theodore Price had always done best. “Lillian!” he said gleefully, hugging me at once. He wore armor the color of polished copper that caught the meager light through the Forever Clouds. His blond hair was short and spiked, but not nearly as sharp as the arcs of metal that twisted off his pauldrons in a gnarled, sinister way.
We had seen so many things together. Picked so many pockets together. He was my brother, no arguments about it.
“It has been so long,” I told him, pulling him away to get a good look at his chubby cheeks and bright, watery eyes.
“Too long,” he said, smiling still.
“A grand reunion,” Oceanus said dryly, taking the reins. “But I’m afraid we have more pressing matters to attend to, Guardians. Like, for instance, how we plan to take the city and do what Illyria has decreed must be done.”
“The shield must first be taken down,” said Theo.
“That is what our elven friend here is for,” said Oceanus, her eyes kept straight upon the rolling desert hills before us.
“I understand Othum has brought the Summoning Column?” I asked.
Oceanus nodded. “It’s back a few yards, protected by Giants.”
I turned and quickly noted the large metal cart two phalanxes behind us. It was being pulled by four, armored Rhynodon and flanked by six Frost Giants, their skin breathing clouds of fog upon the Summoning Column on the cart.
“And after that, Oceanus?” Theo asked.
“You’ll call me General now, Theodore,” she said calmly.
I could hear Theo’s throat close around a nervous swallow. “Yes, General.”
This one has even more nerve than I recall.
“After the shield has been broken, the army will advance upon Sol,” she explained, eyes straight ahead, our chariot pulling up a mountainous dune of sand. “The Citadel will have had sufficient time to reply to our arrival, that is certain. But their numbers are small compared to ours. We will beat back whatever forces they have, set fire to their farmlands, and raze every building the humans dared build.”
The anger welled within her, boiling the air, though only I could feel it. “And what of the Throne...General?” I asked.
“Leave that to me.”
As we neared the top of the hill, a force barreled into me as though the wind had just been knocked from my lungs. I gripped my chest, eyes wide and unblinking.
“Lillian?” Theo asked. “Are you all right?”
I regained my senses, though my eyes still refused to blink. “It is Ionikus,” I said breathlessly. “His power...I can feel it even from here.”
“W-what?” Theo replied.
“We must be wary of him,” I said.
The top of the hill was upon us, and as our chariot stopped at its peak and the City Under the Sun appeared before me, Oceanus turned to say: “And let us hope he was told the same of me.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
THE THUNDER LORD
“Sound the alarm!” cried the Chancellor, standing at the edge of the Serpent’s Spine, spit flying from his mouth.
There came a shriek from below, echoed by hundreds of other shrieks hailing from all directions of the city. Skyriders, I knew.
The Chancellor whirled around to us, his face stricken with fear and anger. Solara, Spike, and I stood in a line before the Throne wearing our godly armor: Spike heavy in onyx plates, his elephantine helmet no less menacing this dawn; Solara in her white tunic, gold sandals, and gold-feathered headdress; me in my white tunic as well, my shoulders weighed down by my silver shoulder pads of lightning.
“I knew this would happen,” the Chancellor spat. “I practically invited an army on the doorstep of Sol by allowing you here!”
“Chancellor—” I said.
“And not just an army but actual gods?” he said.
“Certainly not the Illyrians, good Chancellor,” Solara assured him. “They’re more afraid of your cannons than a pig is the butcher’s knife.”
I stepped forward. “The signal is from a Guardian. The other three, to be exact: Oceanus, Theodore, and Lillian.”
He turned back to his city, his worried gaze washing over the
many Terraces that surrounded the Serpent’s Spine. The screams of the Skyriders still cut through the air. I walked to the Chancellor and joined him in gazing down at the city.
The sound of fear plagued the streets of Sol. Shuffled footsteps as children were rushed indoors, the slamming of shutters and doors as families and shopkeepers frantically closed themselves in. All the while, the shrieks of the Skyriders echoed about the city air, blazen blares of noise that made the blood curdle.
“By estimations of the wind patterns,” I continued, “I’d say there are about five-hundred military units: mechanized warriors, giants, some elves here and there. It will be a battle, but nothing the Endari can’t handle. We promised you our protection, Chancellor. And it’s our protection you’ll have.”
He regarded me with narrowed, worried eyes. “For the sake of my city, I hope you’re right.”
“As if they’ll be able to cause any damage with Sol’s shield up,” Spike said from behind.
The Chancellor turned to him and tore him to shreds with a pass of his glare. “Are you lame, boy? If the Guardians are marching toward my city, it’s safe to assume Illyria has found a way around Sol’s shield.”
Just then, the lift rushed up behind us, and Illindria and K’thas stepped off its platform. Illindria’s golden dress was wound tight around her bulbous body, the branches of her shoulders heavy with diamonds. Her spring-coiled, red hair was high to the heavens. K’thas looked just as decayed as ever, but mightily tall, his glass-tipped shoulders sparkling and the ghosts swarming around his rib cage moaning eerily.
“I came as soon as I could,” said Illindria, her breath playing with the veil hiding her mouth.
The Chancellor nodded to her, his face still so hard. “Lady Illindria,” he said, “it seems you have brought the weight of Illyria down upon my city.”
“It is as I predicted,” she replied. She turned to her Throne, that imposing chair of red stone, three bricks away from completion. “But it’s of no matter. For I am only a few stones away from being the most powerful goddess to walk the earth.” She whirled back around to the Chancellor. “And Triplets be forsaken if I’ll let my meddling brothers and sisters intrude upon this day.”
Below, scores of Skyriders exploded out of the tops of the towers to the Hatchery, rivers of orange scales flooding the city air. They soared toward the gates, some longer than twenty feet, others no bigger than me. I felt electricity building in the air, too, and quickly spotted the twisting turbines of the Vusarians and their cannons as they stomped through the streets, making their way to the Orchards.
The lift disappeared and reappeared moments later, this time carrying a mason. He was taller than the last, but seemingly no less aware of his surroundings or the urgent matter at hand. He hobbled past the gods in his presence as though blind, and with a grunt, heaved the third-to-last brick upon the back of the Throne.
But as the stone unified with the others, there came a sudden pang of fear in my chest.
Mearic.
“Where is he?” I asked the others, jumping from one pair of eyes to the other.
“Who?” asked Solara dryly.
“Mearic. Where’s Mearic?”
“How could I have forgotten?” the Chancellor gasped. “Guards—Mearic is in his chambers, go and retrieve him immediately.”
“Keep your guards at your side,” I said. “I’ll gladly go and retrieve him.”
And without letting the Chancellor speak another word, I stepped onto the lift, and sunk below the floor. The light of the torches flashed in my eyes with each level I passed, and more and more my heart beat nervously. Something in me, it was so worried. But not for me. Not for Sol. I knew on some level...it was for Mearic. And the sooner I saw his face, the sooner I knew I’d feel relief.
On the thirtieth floor, I flew off the lift and hurriedly knocked on the blue, wooden door to his room.
“Mearic?” I called. “Mearic, it’s Ion. Your father requests your presence at the top of the tower. It’s urgent! An army—”
The door swung open, and standing on the other side was Mearic. His curly hair was messier than usual, and his eyes were tired as he rubbed the sleep from them. I glanced down at his bare chest and quickly looked up. Stupid. That was stupid.
“Uh, you—you’re not...decent,” I said.
“Decent?” he laughed groggily, one eye cocked. “You really are from Illyria, aren’t you?”
I cleared my throat and regained my urgency. “There’s no time to laugh! An army approaches, you must dress and join your father at the top of the tower.”
His brows stitched themselves together, and by the look on his face, I knew his ears must’ve finally picked up on the screams of the Skyriders. “An army?” he gasped.
He left the door and raced to his window, swinging open the blue shutters.
Skyriders of every size flew up past his window, the sounds of their beating wings and shrieks all that could be heard.
“No,” he nearly whispered, hand to his mouth. “When are they due?”
Just then, a horn unlike any I’d ever heard resounded through the desert of the High Heat, washing over its hills and down into the valley Sol called home. Knots tied up my insides as I walked to the window, so afraid of what I knew I’d see. Mearic and I were silent, as upon the hill beyond the gates of Sol appeared a row of soldiers that spanned the length of the city.
“Now,” I said. “They’re due now.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
THE HAND OF THE MOON
Oceanus whipped her arms to the side and four rings of water swept out of thin air, spinning violently around her. They lifted her above the chariot, the winds roaring as she ascended. Oceanus looked out over the soldiers who’d stopped behind us, at the top of the desert hill that gazed out upon the City Under the Sun.
She looked so hard upon her men and women in armor. Have I even seen her blink since I saw her? I thought. I could hardly even detect her breathing. What happened to you, Oceanus? Why do you feel so different?
“Soldiers of Illyria!” she cried, her voice booming over the sands of the High Heat. “Today, you have been chosen to march upon the deserts of the Southernlands, to face an enemy of the pantheon! This enemy grows stronger with each passing second like a disease, a plague meant to wipe us all out!”
She flew to the left, her icy blue eyes washing over the soldiers there. “Today, we march upon Sol, the City Under the Sun, to destroy the capital of the Citadels. The humans seek to build a Throne here, for a pantheon they seek to give power. But Illyria is the only true pantheon, and in the name of Othum and all those gods who have given you riches, lands, titles, and glory beyond measure...we will not allow these new heathens a place in this world!”
Her buzzing, sweeping rings hailed her back over the chariot, to the soldiers on the right. “This city,” she continued, gesturing to the red walls Sol, “seeks my demise! The demise of your gods! The death of everything you know and love! Will you give them that? Will you allow them such treasons? I ask you soldiers of Illyria...what are you going to do?”
And with one rallying call, one slam of their spears against their shields, the soldiers replied: “DESTROY THEM!”
Oceanus slowly turned in the air, her hair whipped in every direction by the spinning of her rings. She bore down upon me with those frozen eyes.
“Lady Lillian,” she said calmly, “are you ready for what must come next?”
I clenched my jaw and nodded.
“Frost Giants!” Oceanus cried, still staring down at me. “Bring forth the Summoning Column!”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
THE THUNDER LORD
Mearic and I clung to the window of his chamber, our eyes fixed on the army in the distance.
Sol was so eerily quiet I could almost hear the rash of bumps rising on my arms and neck. The front line of the army was a row of ants on the desert hill beyond the gates. They were too far for me to make any of them out, but my ears were buzzing n
ow more than ever. And I knew where the buzzing was coming from. Among those soldiers was Lillian...Theo...my sister. What were they going to do if we faced one another? What was I going to do?
My chest tightened at the thought. Triplets save me.
In the middle of the front lines, I could make out some of the soldiers shuffling about, parting as a large object was rolled forward. A small glimmer of light twinkled off its rounded edges. Metal.
“Come,” I told Mearic, eyes still fixed on the glimmer. “We must join your father.”
I’m not sure why, but I grabbed Mearic’s hand without even a thought, rushing us to the lift. It was only when the platform shifted and rushed upward that I realized I still had his hand in mine. I looked down at our interlaced fingers—as he’d been doing—and quickly pulled away.
“Uh, sorry,” I said, warmth rising in my cheeks.
Silence fell, and then I felt his hand slip back into mine. I looked at him, and slowly, that smile that reminded me so much of my mother’s parted his lips. His kind of...pretty lips. In that moment, with the wind in our ears, and our eyes locked, we said so much to each other. I told him of how he reminded me of my mother and her gentle, caring nature. I told him that he’d been the only person to make me laugh in over a year. I told him of my plans. And I told him that I’d protect him at all costs.
I tightened my other hand into a fist. At all costs.
Before the lift stopped at the top floor, I released Mearic’s hand, my eyes meeting Illindria’s almost at once I arrived. She couldn’t know of my thoughts, my feelings for Mearic, whatever those feelings were. It would be a weakness to her. A string that would need to be cut. And protecting Mearic meant speaking not a word about him.
“Your son, as you requested,” I said, bowing low to the Chancellor.
“Good morning, Father,” said Mearic, his bow just as serious as mine.
“Nothing is good about this morning,” the Chancellor hissed. “Can’t you see that war dawns on Sol?”