by Tora Moon
Ragged cheers from the tired and hungry trainees greeted her announcement. Saehala’s team was sprawled near Rizelya. She said to Saehala, “That was a good idea.”
Saehala shook her head, perplexed. “Not mine.”
The woman heard them and came over to squat in front of them. A scarf covered her hair. Her eyes were red flecked with gold. Rizelya wondered why she wasn’t a fighter.
“It was our idea, Alpha.” The woman indicated all the non-fighters helping the fighters get to their feet. “We know you train to protect us and ours from the monsters. The only way we can fight is to help you.”
Rizelya considered the woman. She had broad shoulders and muscles rippled under her tunic. She seemed strong. “You would fight?”
The woman nodded. For a large woman, she settled on the floor with grace. “Aye, and many others.” She ignored Saehala’s sputters and went on. “We train each month in case the monsters break through the protections. There are many of us who would rather not huddle behind the keep walls while others go out and fight. We’re told we cannot fight because we don’t have fire magic. But whose magic gives the blades you use the strength to hold your fire and pierce the hides of the monsters?” Without waiting for an answer, she pointed to herself. “It is us, and our Brown Talent, that allows you to fight.”
“You’re a metal worker? Do you work the helstrablades?” Rizelya asked excitedly.
“Maendy is one of the finest helstramiesters in the entire Strunlair Province, maybe even all of Lairheim,” Saehalstrun said, pride shining in his eyes.
“It’s why she can’t fight.” Saehala glared at Maendy. “We need her too much to allow her to risk herself in a fight.” It sounded like an old argument.
“I don’t need her to fight. I need her knowledge,” Rizelya told Saehala. She turned back to Maendy. “You are just the person I need to talk to. As a helstramiester you know the properties of the helstrablades and what they can do, right?”
“I do.” Maendy sounded wary.
“So is it just Red Talent and fire that can be fed into the blades?”
“No, of course not.” Maendy looked indignant. “Although, no one has ever used them for more than fire magic.”
“I knew it,” Rizelya said, elated. “That means Reds aren’t the only ones to have to fight anymore.”
“Why is that important?” Saehala asked.
“We need more fighters. There aren’t enough Reds to handle the mass of monsters I suspect are coming our way. I believe we haven’t seen the end to the increased size and frequency of the nests, only the beginning.”
“You don’t think those rogue monsters we fought are one-of-a-kind, do you?” Laynar asked, coming up to stand behind them.
Rizelya’s squad-pack and Laynar joined them, carrying plates of fruit, cheese, and crackers with them. They handed plates to those on the floor. Rizelya waited until they sat down before answering Laynar.
“No, I don’t. I think the attacks are going to get worse; they already have in the few chedan since we saw the first control janack.”
“Hey, we’ve been fighting a war with the monsters for a long, long time,” Aistrun said. “Our enemy has just changed tactics.”
“We’ve reached a stalemate the past thirty years or so,” Saehala said, “ever since the Zehis method. We can’t eliminate the monsters entirely, and they can’t annihilate us. Something had to give.”
“I wish”—Rizelya began, then sighed wistfully—“I wish we could find some way to get rid of the nests. Then there wouldn’t be any more monsters to fight.”
“It’s been tried,” Saehala said, sounding frustrated. “No one has found a way to drain, destroy, or even neutralize the malignant magic pools where the nests form. The White Priestesses tried when the monsters first appeared, but it didn’t do any good.”
“They try every hundred years or so,” Laynar said. “My grandmother was a child the last time they attempted it. Each time a new Supreme comes into power, she tries to drain the pools. I think it’s become some sort of initiation for them.”
“Until the White Priestesses are successful,” Rizelya said, “it is up to us to fight the monsters. And find better ways to fight them. Using other Talents than just the Reds is one of those ways.” She turned to Maendy. “We need your help. We need to find what the other Talents can do with the helstrablades and helbraughts. Will you help?”
“Hot damn! A forward-thinking alpha.” Maendy slapped her hand on her thigh. “I like you, Rizelya. Of course I’ll help. What do you need?”
Rizelya turned to Dehali. “Do you know what your friend Kami did when she killed her brecha?”
“Sure I do; she was so excited.” Dehali’s eyes lit up at the mention of the woman she had fallen in love with. “I was so proud of her, a full Yellow killing a brecha! She even did it with a helstrablade instead of a helbraught.”
“Impressive,” Saehala said, her eyes were alight. “But why didn’t she use a helbraught?”
“All she had was a helstrablade,” Dehali answered. “Afterward, she tried to use mine and couldn’t get it to work.”
“That’s because it had been keyed to you and to Red magic,” Maendy said. “What she needed was a helbraught with a blank blade. Then it could be attuned to her and her magic. Once it was anointed with her blood, the blade would know what magic is to be accepted and that she was its wielder. As you may have discovered, your helbraughts will work for others of the same Talent, but no others. Even another Red’s helbraught doesn’t work as well as your own.”
“Why is that?” Rizelya asked.
Maendy shrugged. “It’s the way the helstrim alloy works. It will only accept and hold one type of magic.”
“Can you find several of the other Talents who wish to fight?” Rizelya asked Maendy.
Maendy looked at Saehala, who gave a nod of approval. “Yes, there are quite a few. Many are out working today. Not everyone stayed to watch the practice.”
“We only need one of each of the other Talents,” Rizelya answered. “No need getting hopes up if this doesn’t work.”
“Besides,” Laynar interjected, “it’s one thing to have Yellows fighting because they are creating a shield for the Reds; it’s another for the other Talents to fight like a Red. We need Clan-Alpha approval to integrate others into the fighting force.”
“Hey, something this revolutionary probably needs the Supreme’s approval,” Aistrun added.
“Let’s keep this experiment as quiet as possible,” Rizelya said. She didn’t mind getting herself and her squad-pack in trouble, but these were strangers.
Maendy nodded. “I know just the people to ask. They’ll keep it to themselves.”
It was decided only Rizelya’s team and the people Maendy would bring would meet in the small practice arena an octar after the evening meal.
Chapter 13
Fifteen milcrons before they were to leave for the small practice arena, Laynar knocked on Rizelya’s door. Rizelya was alone; the rest of her squad-pack had left earlier in pairs. Keandran hadn’t returned to the room after dinner.
“So do you think this will work?” Laynar asked as soon as the door was closed.
“I do. Why are you here?”
“I want to be part of this,” Laynar said, sitting on a chair. Rizelya remained sitting on the bed. “What you’re proposing goes against all tradition. But the question is, will it hurt or help our people?” Laynar sat forward in her chair, her intense gaze boring into Rizelya. “If it hurts them, I will fight you, but if it helps us win the war against the monsters, I will be your biggest supporter.”
Rizelya scooted to the edge of the bed. “We will only train those who volunteer, just like we’ve done so far.”
“No, that isn’t true. What about the teacher we forced to learn the cold-air shield because she was the only strong Yellow in the keep who wasn’t a child?”
“That was a special case and was necessary. You knew it then and allowed it.” Rize
lya stood up and paced the room. Remembered malice from the woman in her dreams made her sure more and worse was to come. Passion, and terror, made her voice rise. “All of us have to fight, however we can, if we are to survive this next assault.”
“How do you know?” Laynar glared at her.
But Laynar wasn’t Aistrun, someone she trusted implicitly. She didn’t dare tell anyone else, except a White Priestess, of her dreams. She hadn’t even told Aistrun the full details. The intelligence driving the control janacks held a consuming hate, and desired the obliteration of the Posairs, every last man, woman, and child.
“Just a gut feeling,” Rizelya prevaricated. “Every time I’m near a control janack and hear it’s humming, I sense extreme malevolence.” That much was true. It bothered her that so far no one else heard the hum or had nasty visions. Why was she the only lucky one?
Laynar gave her a long look, then shrugged. She stood up and said, “Then let’s go try this experiment of yours and see if we have new fighters or if it’s still just us Reds fighting for our world.”
Rizelya and Laynar were the last to arrive at the small practice room. Rizelya’s squad pack stood leaning against the wall. Maendy stood in the middle of the room with a group of five women, each of them holding a helbraught. They seemed familiar with handling them.
“Rizelya, you know Gehan,” Maendy said, touching Gehan on the shoulder. Gehan wore a wide grin and jumped lightly on the balls of her feet in anticipation.
Rizelya smiled and gripped Gehan’s hand as a fighter, hand to wrist. Non-fighters greeted palm to palm. Gehan’s eyes widened with the gesture, her smile widening even further. The tension in the other four women eased.
“This is Grazeen.” Maendy gestured at a woman who stepped forward. She had dark forest-green hair with brown and green eyes. She was a few inches taller than Rizelya, and slender and willowy.
Maendy gestured to the next woman. “I know I can’t fight because my skills with the helstrim are needed. But my daughter, Maellyn, can fight.” Maellyn held out her hand to Rizelya, smiling. She had the same chocolate-brown hair and red eyes flaked with gold as her mother. She wasn’t as broad shouldered from years of work at the forge, but she was strong and muscular.
“I’m Raeleen.” The other Brown stepped forward, her hand held out. Rizelya gripped it in the warriors’ greeting, feeling the woman’s strength She had dark brown hair with streaks in the same beautiful gold as her eyes. Rizelya could feel calluses and scars on Raeleen’s hands. The scars continued up her arms and there was a puckered scar on her forehead, which Raeleen touched self-consciously.
“Stone worker,” she said, pulling her hand away.
The last woman wore a hat covering her hair and kept her gaze down. But when Rizelya stepped up to her, the woman looked up in defiance, ripped the hat off her head, and shook her hair. Rizelya had to suppress her gasp of surprise.
The woman’s beautiful shimmering sapphire-blue hair streamed down her back, the tips touching her thighs. Her eyes were a blue-green, almost turquoise. She was one of the most beautiful women Rizelya had ever seen. She was curvaceous, but under the softness Rizelya could see the rippling of muscles. Rizelya guessed the woman had an iron will hiding under the velvet veneer.
“Contrary to popular belief,” the woman’s voice was a low contralto, “not all Blues are weak and lack courage. I am Saffren. I wish to fight the monsters that harm our people.”
“Welcome, ladies,” Rizelya said, “we don’t know if our experiment will work—”
“Of course it does,” Maendy interrupted. She gave a knowing look to the others. “Show them.”
Gehan’s helbraught began to glow a brilliant yellow. Freezing cold air shot out the end of the blade toward a melon Rizelya hadn’t noticed. The melon was soon covered in ice. Gehan fed more air magic into the helbraught and the melon shattered, frozen pieces flying in all directions. Gehan grinned. “I can do it with hot air too.”
“My turn,” Maellyn said, stepping forward and facing a large leather ball. Her helbraught glowed a dark brown. With a yell, Maellyn thrust the blade into the ball. When it began to smoke and turn red, she withdrew the blade. The ball bubbled and melted, oozing a glowing red substance. “Lava,” Maellyn explained, a note of triumph in her voice, “super-heated earth.”
“Impressive,” Laynar said. “I would never have thought you could do that with earth.”
“Watch,” Maellyn pointed to the slag that had once been a ball. As it cooled, cracks appeared on the surface and it darkened to a hard lump of black stone.
“Raeleen, your turn,” Maendy said, patting the woman on the back.
Raeleen turned to a hanging leather bag, with tentacle shapes sticking out of it. Her face was determined as she held her helbraught tight. The blade began to glow white with brownish-gray running through it. Raeleen yelled and rushed the bag, slashing at a tentacle, and then ducked under the swinging bag and thrust the blade into it. She stabbed again and then stepped back, a satisfied look on her face.
Wherever her glowing blade had touched, brownish-gray streaks spread out, growing, until the whole surface was mottled brown and gray. The bag quit swinging, dropped to the ground, and with the crack of stone on stone crumbled into pebbles. Somehow Raeleen had turned the leather bag into stone.
“I hope that works on the monsters,” Rizelya said as the dust settled.
“It should,” Raeleen answered. “It’s a form of sheadash stone and we know they can’t stand the touch of it.”
“Mine is similar to Raeleen’s,” Grazeen said and went to another hanging bag. She pushed it to get it swinging. Concentrating on the swing of the bag, she fed her power into the helbraught. The blade glowed a deep forest-green, almost the color of her hair. She didn’t yell when she attacked the bag. She moved faster than Rizelya expected. Two large slashes on the bag showed she hadn’t missed her target and the sand flowing out began to change from tan to a dark green. The bag was also turning green.
It was rather lovely, Rizelya thought, but she didn’t think turning the monsters green would do much. Suddenly the bag began to drip in rotting clumps and the smell of rot made Rizelya gag.
“That smells awful!” Rizelya grabbed her helbraught to burn the rotting bag.
“No, wait.” Maendy put her hand on Rizelya’s arm. “Watch. The magic isn’t finished.”
Rizelya clenched her jaws against the roiling in her stomach. Soon the entire bag turned into a rotten mess and she saw something long and white squirming within the mess. It took all her determination not to throw up at the sight. The white things grew larger as they became engorged with the rot. Rizelya could now see there were about a half-dozen of the things. When all the rot was gone, they tried to tunnel into the stone floor of the arena.
Grazeen went to them, gently picked them up, and put them in a bag she had pulled out of her belt. She went to the door of the arena and stepped outside, stooping down to dump the creatures on the ground. They instantly turned into a churning frenzy and disappeared into the earth.
“What were those things?” Rizelya asked when Grazeen returned.
“Those are snelks. They eat anything rotten,” Grazeen said, grinning, rocking on her heels. “I thought about using them while watching them clean up the latrine. They turn our garbage into beautiful, fertile soil.”
Rizelya had never paid much attention to what happened to their waste or garbage. It just disappeared. Now she knew why.
“After that, my little demonstration will be anti-climactic,” Saffren said.
“All of what I’ve seen has been impressive. I’m sure I won’t be disappointed,” Rizelya said, soothing the nervous Blue.
“Okay, here goes.” Saffren turned toward a large melon. Her helbraught began to glow a pale blue. As she fed more of her magic into the blade, it darkened until it was indigo. The indigo light leaped from her blade to surround the melon, which began to steam and then boil. The light flickered and changed to a pale blue, almos
t white. The boiling stopped instantly and the melon turned to ice.
Saffren put the butt of her helbraught on the ground and swiped a stray strand of hair from her face. “I think I can do this a few feet away and not have to get too close to the monsters. If I can’t, I’ll stab them like the others do.”
“So what do you think of our little squad-pack?” Maendy asked.
“Very nicely done.” Rizelya walked around the room, examining the remains of the targets. She beckoned to Dehali to come forward from where she waited with the others by the door. “It remains to be seen how they react to fighting monsters. Melons and leather bags don’t fight back. Dehali will form a brecha illusion that will act just like the real thing. Who is first?”
The women exchanged glances and then Maellyn raised her hand. “I’ll go.”
Rizelya motioned for everyone else to stand by the walls and gave the signal to Dehali. A brecha materialized in the center of the room. It stood on its hind legs, head swinging about, scenting for prey. It stopped, dropped to all fours, and rushed toward Maellyn.
Maellyn’s eyes widened in fear, but she didn’t drop her helbraught or turn and run. She crouched down, her helbraught glowing. As the brecha drew closer, she threw herself to the ground, thrusting her helbraught into the brecha’s path as it ran over her. The sharp blade slid into its belly. Smoke poured from the opening and the brecha glowed red. Maellyn rolled out of the way as the guts of the beast, now lava, flowed out. She jumped up and thrust her helbraught into the side of the monster. More smoke billowed out of the brecha while lava erupted, covering it. Dehali let the illusion go.
“Dramatic,” Rizelya said curtly, “but not the smartest move. The brechas hind claws could rip you to shreds. You only do something like that as a last resort.” She turned to the others, her voice stern. “We do not need heroes or showoffs. We need fighters who are part of the team. If you can’t be part of a team, we might as well call this experiment a failure and go to bed.”