No, Rowan thought. I don't wish I were back in Paradise Lost. I could have lived a long life in hiding. I could have grown old in ducts and gutters, happy after a fashion. But that would not be true living. I never would have met people I love. If I die now at twenty-two, I die after a rich life. Fighting for a homeworld. And I will die among loved ones.
She winced and climbed over a jutting boulder.
But ideally I'll live.
"Blimey, this rubbish was easier when I was a dragonfly!" Fillister said.
The robotic wolf was hanging from a harness. His metal claws were scraping against the stone walls, propelling him downward into the pit. He kept spinning, banging against the stone, and flailing in the straps.
"Sorry, Fill, old boy," Rowan said. "I told you that you could stay up with the artillery corps."
The robot gasped. "And let you travel into danger alone? No bloomin' way, Row! Wherever you go, I go. You know that!"
"And me too!" said Brooklyn. "There are no ants down here, which is a huge plus. And rappelling isn't so bad as a human."
Fillister rolled his eyes. "Oh, look at Miss La-Dee-Da, I've got a pulse. Well good for you! You're also mostly made of water, so stuff it."
Brooklyn snorted. "You were nicer as a pocket watch."
Rowan was tempted to hush them. But she let them bicker. She needed to hear this. Some banter. Some levity from the terror lurking below.
Someday soon we'll return to Earth, she dared to believe. We'll live together—me and Bay, Brooklyn and Fillister. We'll be happy. And this will all be nothing but an old nightmare.
As they rappelled down, they passed by open holes in the walls. Here were entrances to basilisk tunnels. But they saw no life inside. When the tungsten rods had dug through the mountain, they had slain everything within a wide radius. The exposed tunnels were filled with dust, rocks, and basilisk corpses.
They were deep underground now. It was dark here. The troops lit their flashlights. By stroke of luck, their ropes ended only several meters above the bottom. They grabbed bulges and nooks in the walls, climbing down the rest of the way.
Rowan hopped onto the ground. She found chunks of a tungsten rod strewn around her boots. It had shattered on impact, leaving only metal pieces the size of her fist. She pocketed a small piece. A memento from the war.
The other soldiers gathered around Rowan. They stared from side to side. Three tunnels gaped open, leading deeper into the city of serpents.
They saw no basilisks. A few serpentine corpses lay curled up, the victims of the grenades. A few twisted scales, likely the remnants of basilisks hit by the rod. But nothing more.
"Where are they?" a sergeant muttered. "Why aren't they attacking us here?"
"Could they all be aboveground?" said a corporal.
Rowan shook her head. "They're here. They want to draw us deeper. To fight us in the darkness. Not here on the surface."
"You call this the surface?" said a sergeant. "We're a hundred meters underground."
Rowan smiled wryly. "To basilisks, this is practically the sky. Come, soldiers. We go deeper."
They decided to split up. Emet and Leona would lead one battalion into the northern tunnel. Tom would lead a battalion into the eastern tunnel. Rowan and Bay, meanwhile, would lead their troops down the third tunnel, the southernmost one.
"Our minicoms won't be able to communicate underground," Rowan reminded her fellow officers. "Not through so much stone. But we have our portable ansibles. One per battalion. We'll stay in constant contact."
"Whoever kills Xerka wins a trophy!" Bay said. "And gets a shiny sticker on their report card!"
Emet didn't smile. But most of the other soldiers did.
"Let's go kick her ass!" Brooklyn said, then covered her mouth. "I can't believe I said that."
Soldiers raised their rifles overhead.
"Kick her ass!" somebody else cried.
"Earth pride!" shouted another.
"Let's stomp some snakes!" Bay shouted.
Laughter rose among the troops. Soldiers bragged about killing the most snakes, about returning with Xerka's severed head.
They were all terrified, Rowan knew. They had all lost so many friends only moments ago. They were all trying to hide their terror.
Most likely, they were all going to die. And they knew it.
The troops split up. They walked down the tunnels toward the city of serpents.
Rowan led her troops, Lullaby held before her. Bay and Brooklyn walked just a step behind. Hundreds of soldiers followed. Their flashlights cast dusty beams, lighting the cavernous passageway.
This was no crude burrow. The basilisks had paved it with concrete and reinforced the walls with steel beams. It reminded Rowan of tunnels from old Earth movies, like the tunnel Biff drove his Rolls Royce down in Back to the Future II, chasing Marty McFly. Except in this tunnel, there would be horrors worse than any schoolyard bully. Even a bully with a sports almanac from the future.
"Where are they?" Rowan muttered. "The damn basilisks should be attacking us in force."
"Are they all dead?" Brooklyn said.
"No." Rowan shook her head. "They're here. The bastards want to lure us even deeper."
They kept walking. Soon they saw graffiti on the walls—messages written in human language.
Come deeper, apes.
Come to your graveyards!
Xerka will devour your children.
Earth will be crushed among our scales!
Bay snorted. "Their propaganda could use some work."
"Also their grammar," Brooklyn pointed out. "I'm not sure crushed among our scales is correct. More like: Crushed in our mighty grip. Or maybe sliced by our fangs. Or maybe just swallowed alive and slowly digested over centuries and—"
"All right, all right, you two!" Rowan said. "Enough with the talk of crushing and digesting." She raised a hand, halting the advance. "Let's send a few sappers forward. See if the bastards planted any mines."
Bay sighed. "I always get this job."
"You're good at it!" Brooklyn said. "And you already got one limb blown off, so you're used to it."
Bay groaned. "When did Brooklyn turn into the Princess of Darkness?"
"It's called gallows humor, dude. Wiki it."
Muttering under his breath, Bay led a team of sappers forward. A while later, they returned.
"Nothing," Bay said. "No explosives. We searched every nook and cranny."
Rowan sighed. "Yep, they're definitely drawing us deeper. They get to choose the place of battle. Let's keep going."
They walked for a kilometer or so. Finally they reached the end of the tunnel. It opened up into a vast cavern—the hollow insides of the mountain.
They reached Sinsira, the city of serpents.
They stood on the ledge, staring.
"My God," Bay said. "It's massive."
Brooklyn nodded. "That's what she said."
Bay groaned. "Shut up, Brooklyn."
A city filled the hollow mountain. Back on Earth, most basilisks had simply lived in the wilderness like animals. Others had overtaken human ruins. But here they had constructed a sprawling metropolis of their own. Towers filled Sinsira, jagged and black and spiraling to points. The towers rose from the ground, stretched out from the walls, even descended from the ceiling. The city looked like the mouth of a lamprey, filled with rings and rings of dark teeth. Roads, bridges, and pipes spread between the towers, and pits filled the stone between them.
In the city center spread a lake of lava, and beasts of fire lived within, rising and falling from the molten bog, opening jaws of flame. A tower rose from the lake, the largest in the city. Unlike the other towers, this one was bone white. It soared through the cavern, the backbone of the mountain. It must have been kilometers tall. Its top flared out like the jaws of a ravenous snake. Above its crest hovered a giant heart of fire, crackling and casting red light.
Rowan pointed at the tower. "That's Axis Vypira. Xerka's home."
/> Bay cringed. "And we have to pass through kilometers of Snake City to get there. Lovely."
There were millions of snakes in the city. Rowan could see them. Their troops were crawling forward, covered in armor, raising cannons.
"Soldiers—charge!" Rowan cried, and Fillister howled at her side.
They burst out from the tunnel as shells flew. They charged toward the city, guns booming, and explosions lit the darkness.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Bay ran through the city, firing Lawless, as death sprawled around him.
The basilisks were everywhere. He had never seen so many. They slithered down the roads. They leaped from towers. They rose from underground holes. Every step, another human soldier died.
"Forward, forward!" Bay shouted. "To the white tower!"
They kept pressing forward. Firing their guns. Lobbing grenades. Bleeding, dying for every meter.
An entire platoon burned as bombs rained from a tower. Basilisks pulled open a huge trapdoor, and a platoon fell into a pit of hungry jaws. More humans kept emerging from other tunnels. Tom, Emet, and Leona were all leading their own assaults. In the distance, Bay saw a battalion charge down the sloping wall, their banners raised. Across the city, a third battalion was bombarding the towers. Tens of thousands of humans had survived the journey here, and they were now pouring into Sinsira, this city inside the mountain, killing every basilisk in sight.
But the basilisks fought back furiously. They were cornered now. For the first time in the war, their backs were to the wall. And that unleashed all their malice. They shrieked as they fought, crushing humans, biting off heads, tearing bodies apart. They bombarded the human infantry with shell after shell. They slunk into shadows, only to pounce moments later, to snatch soldiers, to swallow them whole.
The basilisks were defending a city where they knew every shadow, every stone. They had the advantage. And they knew it.
And so many humans fell before them.
But humanity kept pushing forward.
"To Axis Vypira!" Bay shouted. "The white tower will fall!"
Rowan fought always at his side, Lullaby booming, and Fillister fought with her, leaping from serpent to serpent, ripping them apart. They were conquering street after street.
But Bay knew: This war would not end until Xerka was dead.
And she was waiting there. In her tower. Watching.
I hope you're afraid, Xerka, Bay thought. Your death is coming.
"Rowan!" he shouted. "The enemy is too thick here. We're close enough. It's time to fly!"
Rowan looked at him from across the battle. Basilisk blood covered her. She knelt by Fillister and hugged the robotic wolf.
"Fillister, I need to leave you here for a while. Can you stay and defend the infantry?"
The wolf growled. "You got it, Row. Go kick her backside. Wish I could come with ya."
Rowan straightened and turned toward Bay. She nodded.
"Let's do this."
Bay kissed her. "Let's go end this." He turned toward his troops and raised his voice. "Blue Eagles! Fly!"
The humans had three hundred jetpacks between them. A small force. Vulnerable and exposed. They were the Blue Eagles Battalion. Proud leaders of the charge. They rose, three hundred warriors, riding on jets of fire.
Bay and Rowan soared at their lead. Brooklyn flew close behind. Their jetpacks thrummed and rained fire across the city. The Blue Eagles soared. They streamed toward the white tower. Heading toward Xerka. Toward victory.
At once, basilisks below opened fire.
These basilisks had machine guns mounted on their backs. Bullets streaked toward the humans, slamming into body armor. Bay screamed as a bullet hit his leg, cracking the armor. Another bullet slammed into his prosthetic arm. Behind him, bullets tore through armor, and several men fell. One bullet hit a soldier's jetpack, and the fuel ignited, blanketing the man with fire.
The survivors kept flying. They were only moments away from Axis Vypira now. The white tower was so close. The end of the war—just there.
More bullets flew from below. More Blue Eagles fell, screaming, bleeding. Some slammed into towers, others into the waiting jaws of basilisks.
They flew another kilometer.
A dozen more soldiers fell.
They were nearly at the lake of lava now.
A shell exploded between them, pulverizing dozens of soldiers.
We should have fought farther along the ground, Bay thought. We rose too soon. We're not going to make it.
He narrowed his eyes, jaw clenched.
Keep flying. Do this. End this.
A bullet slammed into Bay's hip, creaking his armor and digging into his flesh. Another bullet hit his good hand, taking off a finger.
Bay screamed. Then he gritted his teeth. He kept flying.
I'll end this war in pieces if I must. But I'm ending it!
They flew over the last few streets. Basilisks rose atop jagged black towers, firing their guns, taking out more Blue Eagles. Rowan screamed as bullets glanced off her armor. Bodies rained.
They kept flying.
Three hundred Blue Eagles had risen.
Only three made it to the lake of fire.
Bay. Rowan. Brooklyn.
Maybe it was because they had led the charge, fast enough to dodge most of the barrage. Maybe it was because they were senior officers with the finest armor. Maybe Xerka had ordered her underlings to keep them alive.
Bay didn't know the reason. Didn't know why they had survived while hundreds fell. He had no time to contemplate it. After this war, he would mourn the dead. Right now he would fight for them.
The three survivors were flying over the lava now. Creatures moved within the molten lake, demons formed of stone and fire, breaching the surface to open jaws filled with basalt teeth. The lake seemed alive, gurgling with unholy creation.
They flew together. Three. Bay. Rowan. Brooklyn. They streamed over the churning lava, heading toward the white tower. Axis Vypira soared before them, piercing the mountain, a glimmering pillar, kilometers high. They flew toward its flaring crest. The flaming heart hovered above, pulsing, spurting fire, casting red light.
She emerged before them.
She stood atop her tower.
Bay gasped, raising his gun.
There she was. Waiting for them. Queen Xerka.
She had changed since her invasion of Earth last year. Xerka had been consuming victims, basilisk and human, absorbing their DNA. She was no longer the graceful, silvery beast she had once been. She had grown to monstrous size, three times the height of a man. Her scales were now crimson and trimmed with gold. Her human torso still rose above her serpentine body, but it was no longer beautiful. The skin was red, cracked, covered with scars. Her eyes blazed like molten gold, fangs filled her drooling jaw, and a thousand little snakes formed her hair.
"Welcome, apes!" Xerka cried, drenched in firelight. "Welcome to my home!"
The last three Blue Eagles shouted and fired their guns.
Bullets slammed into Xerka, sparking, shattering against her. Xerka laughed—a deep, thunderous sound that echoed through the mountain.
She raised one of her clawed hands, holding an enormous black rocket launcher.
She fired.
A shell flew toward the Blue Eagles.
Bay's eyes widened.
It was coming right at him. He swerved, but so did the shell. It was following him, and he winced, braced for impact, and—
Brooklyn screamed and dived in front of him.
The shell slammed into her chest.
"No!" Bay screamed.
The shell detonated against Brooklyn's body, tearing apart her armor, burning her skin, driving shrapnel into her chest.
"Brooklyn!" Bay cried, hoarse.
She looked at him.
Her jet pack died.
She fell.
"Brooklyn, no!" Bay shouted, diving after her.
She was tumbling down, losing blood, shedding bi
ts of armor. Bay plunged in pursuit, tears in his eyes. Rowan was diving with him.
He caught Brooklyn near the base of the tower. She moaned in his arms, still alive, bleeding profusely.
The white tower rose from a small island in the lake of fire. Bay glided down the last few meters and placed Brooklyn on the rocky shore. Rowan landed beside them, face pale, eyes wide with shock.
The tower rose above them. Its top flared out like jaws, ready to devour the flaming heart above. It shielded them from Xerka's fire. Rowan kept guard, gun raised, while Bay frantically tried to remove Brooklyn's armor. The graphene and steel had shattered into countless pieces, digging into her chest and stomach.
The wounds were deep. Her blood kept gushing.
"Bay …" Brooklyn whispered, face ashen.
"Rowan, I need your healing!" Bay said. "Use those little glowing guys!"
Rowan knelt beside them. She placed her hands on Brooklyn. The Harmonians—the microorganisms that protected Rowan—flowed into Brooklyn's wounds. They glowed pale lavender. The wounds began to close, but they only tightened around the shrapnel. Brooklyn arched her back, screaming.
"It hurts!"
Rowan pulled her hand back. The Harmonians flowed back into her.
"It won't work," Rowan said. "Her body has too much shrapnel."
A bullet slammed into the tower only a meter away, chipping the stone. Another. A third. Basilisks were taking potshots at them from across the flaming lake. Rowan cursed, aimed her gun, and fired. The basilisks scurried away.
"Bay …" Brooklyn whispered again. "Hold me."
He placed bandages on her wounds, trying to stanch the bleeding, knowing that the shrapnel was deep. That her organs were punctured.
He held her in his arms.
"You'll be all right, Brooklyn," Bay whispered. "We have more copies of you. We'll find you a new body. You'll rise again. Missing a few memories, yes, but hey, who wants memories of this place anyway, right?" He laughed through his tears. "We'll get you an amazing new body, and we'll be together again. We'll live on Earth. We'll eat pancakes with Rowan. We'll be happy and forget all about this place."
Brooklyn smiled shakily, and a tear flowed down her cheek. "Bay, oh Bay … I have no copies left. The geode-ships. The shuttles. Every vessel with a Brooklyn clone installed into it. They were all destroyed in the war. I can no longer feel my sisters. They're gone."
The Legacy of Earth (Children of Earthrise Book 6) Page 23