She searched the network connections for Vesta’s presence. She was sure Vesta would be using a façade simulation of a city control room because Vesta liked the feel of moving around it to focus her work. It didn’t take long to locate it. Electra connected her data streams to the control room simulation and moved from the network into the half-real, half-projected control center of the city.
Vesta was not manifested in the control room, but the status displays showed that she was focused on some specific incoming signals. Dozens of monitors were showing satellite images of cities and the few Nhia-Samri bases they’d managed to locate. Electra ignored most of them, even though there were six cities with images of fires and panicked people fleeing.
She stepped over to the displays Vesta was so busy processing that she had dropped her projection in the control room. A whole wall of displays showed dozens of areas in Gracia. As she looked over the screens, Vesta materialized next to her. Nhia-Samri were fighting guards and Daggers in every display. Blood flowed freely down the floors and streets shown.
“What can we do to help?” she managed to choke out of her tightening throat. She fought tears, managing to hold them in check.
Vesta put a hand on her shoulder. “Nothing. In addition to Duke, there are immortals present who would immediately know what our actions meant. It would mean Arkady and I would be forced back to sleep. Even worse, Duke would take whatever time was needed to dig out Muriel’s security overrides to make sure we did not wake again until authorized by the assembly.”
“But Gracia could fall! Even with the extra Daggers and the Gods there. What if...?” Her throat tightened so hard she couldn’t finish the question.
My emotions affect me here too much. I really need to find a way to keep them tempered.
Arkady appeared, his voice cracking slightly as he spoke. “I have done all I can.”
Vesta blinked over to another panel and made some adjustments. “Arkady, can you boost the power? Your signal is still not stable.”
Arkady worked for a few seconds before he answered. His hands kept reaching out and typing or twisting things until his voice was slightly clearer. “I don’t want to boost the signal too much. If someone scans, we can’t let this link be discovered.”
Vesta blinked back next to Electra.
I’m glad they trust me so much now. In the last week, both Arkady and Vesta had stopped bothering to act like humans. Electra knew it was because they’d decided she could deal with what they really were. It had taken a little time to understand that they weren’t beings like all the others she knew. Electra had decided to classify them as spirits. Beings of energy, yes, made by her ancestors, but still beings with feelings and maybe even souls.
Electra realized she’d let herself drift from needed tasks. Looking at all the destruction occurring not only in Gracia, but also around the realms on all the monitors of the control room, a cold chill formed in her core.
“Arkady, what would it take for me to visit the moon?”
It took several seconds before Arkady turned towards her. The time delay caused by his distance was more than a little disconcerting.
“I told you this is only temporary, until it is safe for me to return to Gracia. If we connected you here, it wouldn’t look any different than where you are. You’ve already seen the external displays,” he said.
She shook her head. “No. I meant really go to the moon. You said it was possible.”
Her eyes moved from screen to screen; tears were now truly running down the side of her real head back in her room. Try as she might she couldn’t move her hand to wipe them dry.
Mandy and the Daggers are probably staring right at me. They’ll know it isn’t going well.
She forced herself to keep a businesslike attitude as she scanned each monitor. There were many civilian bodies in her view; thankfully, most of the dead were Alliance soldiers or Nhia-Samri. The one man she wanted with all her heart to find, Lord Dohma, was not present.
The God, Lord Pualla, had pushed his defense out into the city. Vesta followed his fighting on the monitors. Pualla was leading a dozen Daggers, who ran directly into a pack of Nhia-Samri. Lord Pualla threw his staff in the air and drew his curved swords. The staff hung just above him as he engaged a pair of Nhia-Samri. The Nhia-Samri combined their attacks, trying to make contact with Lord Pualla, but he parried them.
Lord Pualla swung his blade at one opponent, who managed to parry just in time, but there was an explosive crack of thunder, and the Nhia-Samri was thrown back at least five feet to slam into a wall. The other one sliced at Lord Pualla’s exposed arm. He pulled his hand back just far enough to catch the blades on his red bracers. With a motion so fast it didn’t show clearly, he swung his arm up and around to thrust his own curved blade through the Nhia-Samri.
With his direct opponents neutralized, Lord Pualla sheathed his blades and reached up, grabbing his staff. Pulling it down, he stepped back, holding the staff before him like a bow. He motioned as if drawing an arrow, and an arrow made of shimmering gold and blazing with red fire appeared in his grasp. He let it fly. It slammed into another Nhia-Samri, who fell dead with the burning arrow skewering him clean through. As the warrior fell, the arrow fell apart into sparkling dust, and was gone by the time the body hit the ground.
Lord Pualla called to his warriors and ran, shooting arrows faster than the Nhia-Samri could react. The Daggers and city guards took care of any of the Nhia-Samri Lord Pualla missed or that came from the side alleys. Lord Pualla made a line of dead bodies all the way to the magical gate the Nhia-Samri continued to emerge from like a wave of locusts. He started shooting the glowing focal points of the gate with his fiery arrows until it flashed and was no more.
Vesta replayed the moment of Pualla breaking the magic gate on a side monitor.
“That would be very dangerous.” Arkady’s response finally came; he’d obviously been dealing with some other issues as well as considering her question. Electra felt a twinge of pride — one cycle before, Arkady would’ve dismissed her question without much thought. “We’d have to use a much larger vessel than the one I used for my core and extra communications gear. A ship that size would be hard to hide. Why the sudden interest?”
Still fighting to hold back her tears, Electra said, “Evacuation. If we can’t stop them, we need to go where they can’t.”
Vesta stopped and looked at Arkady. “You were checking on the other worlds. Have you found anything?”
“Other worlds?” Electra asked.
“This isn’t the only world in the universe,” Vesta said. “We were able to make seventeen inhabitable planets like Niya-Yur. Not everyone came here. There are also 1,654 other worlds where you could not survive without magic or technology to preserve your form. We’re also unsure how many other stars might have habitable worlds. This is a much smaller universe than our original one. I don’t think you fully comprehend that thousands of sentient races from two universes worked to save as many worlds, plants, animals, ecosystems, and cultures as they could. Uncounted nonillions died, yet billions were saved. We....”
Arkady started talking, interrupting Vesta, a side effect of the time delay.
“There are no detectable signals, and the Pilum-Gate was shutdown cold a few years after we were put to sleep. They didn’t even leave the Tunnelnet active. Only the shielding and minor systems are operating. If anyone’s still out there, they haven’t been here since we were put to sleep. The only means of communicating between the other planets now is magic. If we start to reactivate the Pilum-Gate, you know that would be noticed.”
“Why would they go to the trouble of a complete cold shutdown of the Pilum-Gate. That’d take years of work.”
Vesta and Electra watched Arkady, waiting for the answer. He paused longer than just the delay. “Niya-Yur is quarantined. Messenger probes
were launched to the other worlds with the Imperial order. No details are in these systems.”
“Quarantine.” Vesta started chewing her fingernail. “Why not order medical support? The Empire has never abandoned any protectorate. Why would the Emperor order the capital, with the Imperial family, closed off without assistance?”
Arkady stopped tugging on his beard to wave his hands in the air. “Hell if I know. When I get back to Gracia I’ll check the imperial archive. Oh and Electra, to answer your question, yes, we can evacuate some to the moon. But again, it would give us away.”
Electra stopped making notes of new words to find the definitions for, to stare at both Arkady and Vesta. “If it comes to evacuation, I doubt anyone will care if you’re awake or not.”
One of the displays flashed a picture of Lord Dohma fighting the Nhia-Samri. Electra’s heart jumped to her throat and a tingling feeling bounced around her body with joy. She flung herself at the controls, activating as many monitors as she could control that showed what was going on. “He’s still fighting! Curse that man’s sense of duty! He was supposed to run!”
Dohma
Dohma flew over his desk, throwing off his mantle of state. For weeks he’d sweated, wearing the double layer of clothing over armor. At that moment, he was immeasurably glad he had. Cundia drew her weapons as she spun over his desk, landing on the opposite side of him from Orahda.
Lord Pualla practically carried the Imperial Regent, Lord Menthran, personally out of the room down one of the many escape routes to the city. Lord Menthran had a shimmering sword out and Dohma’s last glimpse of his face showed tight-lipped anger at being dragged away like a child.
Good, Lord Pualla will make sure the Imperial regent makes it to the elven patrols. Lord Menthran wouldn’t dare oppose an order by Lord Pualla.
The extra Daggers around the room were already fighting, trying to block the Nhia-Samri from getting through the gates. They were having some success. The other assembly members all looked relatively calm as they and their staff rushed towards one exit or another, avoiding the Nhia-Samri as planned.
Orahda started to move in the direction of the unblocked escape route they’d planned for themselves.
“Not yet,” said Dohma firmly, shaking his head.
“Dohma, you must run,” Orahda said. “This is not the time or place for heroics.”
Dohma ripped the hanging cloth cover from the front of his desk to get at the small shield held under the desk with some break-away leather straps. “I’m commander of the Aelargian Guard first! I shall not flee before ensuring the safety of my fellow rulers. Aid me in getting those we can to safety, then I too shall retreat.”
Cundia smiled. “You owe me another cross.”
Orahda exhaled loudly, but Dohma saw the gleam of pride and purpose in his eyes. Orahda’s face tightened as he examined the situation. Nhia-Samri were coming through the glowing gates rapidly, but only two could cross at a time. The Daggers and guards were managing to hold a line against them, but the defenders’ numbers were dwindling. “If we close these gates, all assembly members will be able to make it to the first checkpoint.” Out of the side of his mouth he added to Cundia, “And no, I don’t. We didn’t shake.”
Dohma smiled and slapped Orahda and then Cundia on the shoulder.
“Time to get to work. We must end this gate first,” he said as he jumped for the nearest gate. Cundia and Orahda were right next to him. “Cundia, help me. Keep them busy and slow the flood. Orahda, do what you must, but close that gate.”
Dohma jumped into the fight. Three Nhia-Samri had managed to get a clear foot inside the room, and a fourth was joining them through the gate. Five Daggers were fighting the three.
Dohma lunged in as Cundia delivered a head blow. The Nhia-Samri blocked both of their attacks. A Dagger thrust in between them, stabbing her all the way through. Dohma didn’t pause, riposting the soon-to-be-dead warrior, who was still trying to kill them before she died.
The fourth was emerging, weapons out. Orahda dove between the feet of the semi-circle of Nhia-Samri, protecting the gateway, rolling forward and then kicking up hard, catching the warrior by surprise in the crotch. Orahda’s kick sent him backward through the glowing gateway, arms flailing.
The wounded Nhia-Samri struck at Cundia slower, allowing Dohma to block the attack while Cundia brought her blade down, cutting off the Nhia-Samri’s hand. The Nhia-Samri fell to her knees and glared at Cundia before finally collapsing.
Dohma didn’t have time to consider much else as another Nhia-Samri brought his blades around in a sweeping onslaught with a scream of rage. Cundia dropped flat on the ground to avoid being hit. Dohma stepped over her to engage in a series of rapid strikes, parries, and ripostes.
Cundia rolled onto her back and swung at the legs of the new assailant, who thrust both his blades at Dohma and jumped almost ten hands high, bringing his armored boots down towards Cundia’s chest. She slapped the ground with her elbow, rolling out of the way just in time to avoid being crushed by his weight. Something hit Dohma hard in the back, throwing him forward. To avoid stepping on Cundia, he jumped onto the Nhia-Samri warrior, who managed to get one of his odassi positioned to stab Dohma through the left side of his abdomen. Pain burst through him as he and the warrior went down together.
If I’m not dead yet, I will be if he works that cut wider.
Dohma dropped his sword and grabbed the hand that was holding the blade thrust through him. Fear gave him strength to hold it in place. The Nhia-Samri head slammed into the stone floor with a nice thud, and Dohma was sure the wind was knocked out of the man because he’d landed squarely on top. The man glowered at him through slightly glazed eyes. Nose-to-nose, Dohma glowered back just as intensely. A loud bang, accompanied by a brilliant flash of light, shocked both of them. From their position on the floor, they looked up to see the glowing disk of the gate wink out, leaving the ordinary wall in its place.
A Nhia-Samri screamed and fell to the ground, his eyes wide, because the lower half of his body was on the other side of the closed gate. Blood poured across the floor, out of his upper torso, as he twitched violently and died with a long sigh.
Orahda turned and stomped on the throat of the man under Dohma with such force that his neck flattened. Blood burst from under Orahda’s boot and out of one of the eyes of the warrior.
Gore sprayed onto Dohma’s face as his nostrils filled with its salty odor. The warrior’s body convulsed, and his grip on the odassi finally lessened, but not without first vibrating the sword, causing shivers of pain to threaten Dohma’s consciousness. He clenched his teeth against the pain and concentrated on holding the odassi with all his strength to keep it as stable as possible.
Cundia got back to her feet and pulled the half-torso away. “Oh, Lady! Lord Dohma!” she cried, dropping to her knees next to him.
“It isn’t that bad,” he lied.
Orahda knelt on one knee. “I told you we needed to run.”
He shook his head. “You’re needed, my friend. Go, close the other gates. Worry then about me,” he said through gritted teeth.
Cundia and Orahda looked at the chaos of the assembly chamber, and Orahda’s face hardened. “No. Cundia, aid me.”
They grabbed Dohma by the shoulders and lifted him to his feet. Pain ripped through him, but he bit his tongue to keep from screaming. Giving them a weak smile, he allowed Cundia to take one arm as Orahda supported him from the other side.
“Come,” Orahda said grimly.
Orahda kicked a desk, sending it flying into another Nhia-Samri, knocking him down. Then he dragged Dohma to where Lothia and Dalpha stood together.
Daggers were pushing the Nhia-Samri back, but it looked like no reinforcements had come in, which meant that an even larger battle must be taking place outside and around the palace.
&nb
sp; Dalpha wasn’t fighting. She stood regally and made gestures, causing a green beam of energy to envelope wounded Daggers as they fell. Anyone touched by her power would miraculously stand up, unwounded yet still covered in their own blood.
Lothia was facing a pair of magic gates, sending radiant bursts of white and gold at any warrior coming through them. Her magic blasts exploded, throwing the warriors back through the gates, knocking down others who were trying to force their way in.
As Dohma approached, carried by Orahda and Cundia, a Nhia-Samri jumped at Lothia from the side. She twisted out of the way in a blur of motion and reached out, grabbing his wrist. In a single motion, she flung the man through one of the gates. It was clear that as long as she stood there no one was coming through either gate.
She’s magnificent; I never dreamed to live long enough to see the wife of the All Father Lord Argos in battle.
Orahda pulled Dohma directly to Dalpha, releasing him one step away, letting Cundia balance him. He tried to stand before the mighty deities on his own, but he couldn’t find the strength. His pants felt wet, and he looked down, picking at them with his free hand. He sighed with relief when he realized it was only his blood. Cundia caught his eye and shook her head with an annoyed grunt.
I care not what you think. I swear I’ll not be known for pissing my own pants in battle, especially in front of these beings!
Thread Skein (Golden Threads Trilogy Book 3) Page 6