by Jason Letts
“You don’t belong here. Your filth is polluting Madora. Your wretched existence is a blight on mankind.”
Sierra gritted her teeth and gripped the sword.
“Say that to my face, why don’t you?” she snapped.
“I’ve waited so long to watch you die.”
But Sierra was mistaken about whom the voice was talking to, which she didn’t realize until a crash echoed through the hallway, panicked voices cried out, and all hell broke loose.
By the time they sprinted to a large open room, a shrieking alarm was going off and a revolving red light illuminated in sections desks and computer equipment in complete disarray. A broad person with two heads stood behind an overturned desk, barking orders to the minions fleeing the room with one and shouting at the Defender bouncing around the shadows with the other. The Mind was armed to the teeth with a rifle in its left arm, a shotgun in its right, and a peashooter pistol raised back behind its head with its misshapen third appendage. It fired shots around the room, blowing holes in the desks the Defender hid behind as he struggled to find a way to get closer. The loud report of the shots sent Sierra and the raiders spilling back for cover behind the edge of the doorway.
Other than the revolving alarm lights, the large bunker room had something hanging from the ceiling a few feet in front of the Mind. It was a ball, a generator that began discharging an electrical current. Sierra watched as the Defender flipped against the wall and released a half dozen throwing stars at the Mind, but each was zapped by what seemed like lightning and sent in a different direction.
Sierra almost didn’t notice that the Defender had thrown one more star right in her direction until Razi shoved her out of the way and let the projectile clink against one of the plates she wore over her stomach.
A few of the Mind’s minions reentered the room from another hallway bearing flashlights guns, and spears. They scanned the room for the intruder in vain until they came to the crook in the ceiling just behind them. The Defender dropped down on top of them, knocking one man to the floor and catching another in time to twist his arm around and make him fire at the Mind, who fell behind the toppled desk for cover. The red light made the Defender’s massive sword glimmer as he twirled it overhead and swung it with such force that it cleaved straight through one of the men. When the Mind reemerged from behind the desk and fired more shots, the Defender used the last man as a shield before tossing the bullet-riddled body away and racing for the other side of the room.
When the Defender reached the far end of the wall that was at the Mind’s back, positioning him clear of the generator, he slung a grappling hook at the rifle and tore it away. The weapon skittered across the middle of the floor, and a lump formed in Sierra’s throat as she saw the opportunity to reach it.
Razi tried to hold her back, but she broke free and raced into the room as the Mind fired shotgun blasts at glimpses of the Defender in the flashing red light. Sierra slid against the floor and clutched the long rifle, but she quickly found herself kicking back to the hallway when she found the homemade loading mechanism wasn’t as intuitive as she expected.
“This isn’t your fight,” one of the Mind’s heads said to her in Cumerian.
“We can’t go on without you!” Sierra shouted back, but she wasn’t moving fast enough, and a faint flash of movement over her shoulder made it clear she was now the target. Sierra pulled Legacy from its sheath while the Mind pushed the desk out of its way and lumbered toward the center of the room.
A roar erupted from behind her as the raiders rushed toward Sierra, who had barely turned to look left in time to see the Defender leap at her from against the wall, sword drawn over his shoulder.
She held Legacy out, hoping it would somehow trump his much-longer and bloodier blade and their fight would be at an end, but the Mind slammed into the Defender’s side and sent him sprawling toward the raiders. Before Sierra knew what was happening, the Mind had picked her up and was dragging her back toward his side of the room, where grinding doors sounded behind them.
Razi took a swift cut with her saber, which the Defender shifted in time to block. Just then, Hinkalo came around from the side for an open shot at the Defender’s back, but the Defender pulled away from Razi, spun around extremely low to the floor, and sliced up at Hinkalo’s middle. Perhaps it was that old injury he received while they were out in the wastes, but Hinkalo couldn’t dip his arm in time to block, and the sharp edge of the Moan Soothsayer tore through him and spewed his blood on the floor in strange letters that told the story of his death.
“No!” Sierra shouted, struggling against the Mind. She was in an elevator, and the doors were closing in front of her. As Hinkalo slumped onto the ground, the Defender turned and flung his tethered hook between the closing doors, which shut around it and held it tight as the elevator started to rise.
The windows gave Sierra a brief glimpse of the Defender following the rope back to the elevator before they rose above the bunker room. She was alone with the Mind. The sound of the alarm and the flashing lights died away, and Sierra took an awkward look at the unique and gifted person beside her. It was even bigger than Razi and must’ve weighed five times what Sierra did.
“There’s a huge field of hematite at the bottom of a canyon out in the wastes,” she said, not needing to explain what kind of opportunity that meant to the Mind, who seemed momentarily entranced by the information.
“I love learning new things,” the female head said in awe, with only a slight accent.
Dislodging the hook was impossible while the elevator was moving, and they rode it in silence for a moment until the sound of banging erupted right underneath them. The floor rattled and shifted slightly, making it clear that the Defender was attempting to force them to fall through. It was hard to tell how far up they were, but the fall could be fatal.
The Mind pointed her to a ladder set into the back of the elevator. It took her rifle, reloaded it, and produced a blade that looked like a saw that had been stowed along the Mind’s long thigh.
The sound of banging below and bits of debris glancing off the elevator shaft made Sierra apprehensive. The Mind pointed the saw and the barrel of the rifle at the wobbling floor of metal sheets. One of the tiles in the corner fell away, leaving a gaping hole.
Before the Defender could do any more damage, the elevator slowed and the ceiling parted to let sunlight and wafts of sand inside. Sierra quickly scampered onto the ground and saw that they’d made it to the surface right in the middle of Madora’s main artery. There were mobs of people around, some on horses or wagons.
Another tile from the bottom of the elevator fell away, and the Mind fired the rifle at the floor before tossing its weapons onto the ground above and climbing up. Between the gunfire and the two-headed person who many regarded as little more than a local legend, gasps erupted from the crowd. But they were followed by screams when the bloody Defender crawled into the elevator car and hurdled the ledge.
Sierra, sword in hand, took to the Mind’s side while wondering what good she could do. Her lack of fighting expertise became more glaring when the Mind fired another rifle shot at the Defender, who deflected it away with the broad side of his sword and continued to stalk closer. When the Defender sprinted forward and took a strong swing at the Mind, who blocked the blow with its saw, Sierra saw an opening to get to the Defender’s back. But it was a painful reminder that Hinkalo had made the exact same move and paid dearly, and Sierra instead took a few steps back and kept her guard up.
The Mind and the Defender battled back and forth, swinging their clanging weapons and vying for an edge. The Mind tried to knock the Defender in the head with the rifle barrel, but the Defender chopped the weapon in half, leaving the Mind with no other use for it than to flick it at the cloaked man and follow with another swing.
The Defender reached into his cloak for something and threw a smoke bomb against the ground. The sudden haze enveloped the two combatants, and Sierra was without a clue as to what was going on. She
screamed in surprise when the Defender leapt out of the smoke directly at her. She managed to get Legacy up in time to block the Defender’s lightning-fast strike, but the blow had so much force that it still knocked Sierra onto her back.
She squirmed to get up but the Defender was already over her, drawing that otherworldly weapon over his shoulder. The elaborate writing on the blade became clear to her then: It spelled out her doom.
“Madora doesn’t need you or your family,” he said. His raspy voice had a cutting edge to it. Of all things, it struck Sierra that he was ungrateful for what her mother had just given him.
That may have been her last thought if the Mind hadn’t emerged from the smoke and plucked the Defender off of the ground in mid-swing. The tip of the sword passed over her by mere inches. The Mind tossed the Defender back toward the elevator shaft, effectively putting itself in the way between Sierra and their enemy.
Whether it was the tumbling Defender or something else, Sierra couldn’t have been sure, but she swore she heard the sound of something dinging inside the elevator. Perhaps some pebbles had fallen in and were rattling around.
The Defender got up and made another charge for the Mind, who stood as tall as an elephant and as wide as a thousand-year-old tree. Using all of his swift agility, the Defender’s first swing was a faint, drawing the Mind into committing to block a blow that never came. He dodged left and leapt into the air across the Mind’s right side, bringing the sword forward right for the closest neck.
To Sierra it seemed to happen in slow motion. The Mind managed to duck, but the swing carried through and sliced through the base of the Mind’s third arm, which dropped to the ground and began spurting blood. Both heads cried out in a state of anguish so robust it seemed like happiness could never return. The arm settled onto the ground, and the Mind dropped to its knees as the Defender landed and regrouped for a final strike.
More clanging came from within the elevator shaft, then a grunt, and Sierra caught a glimpse of frizzy black hair.
Screaming at the top of her lungs, Sierra raced forward, pointing her sword straight out. She needed to buy just seconds for the Mind to have a chance to recover and for Razi to climb out of the elevator car after she’d heroically held on to the Defender’s rope and used it to get up the shaft.
Whether it was the decibel level of her voice or her utter recklessness, it got the Defender’s attention. He parried her weak lunge like she’d been wielding a toothpick, but when he took another swing the Mind’s saw stopped it cold in mid-stroke. Rising, the Mind was still yelping out of both mouths, and more blood than seemed possible stained the ground and the back of its rough cotton shirt.
Razi used the ladder to climb out of the elevator. Her mouth was wide open and sucking in air, but she had her saber in hand and a look of pure determination on her face. She was behind the Defender, whose engagement with the Mind prevented him from noticing her.
Sierra cleared out of the way as the Mind pressed hard against the Defender’s sword and then used its other arm to slam him in the chest. The Defender sprawled backward but never glanced over his shoulder, leaving him unguarded when Razi swept his legs out from under him with her left foot and then reached across with her right arm to stab him in the seam between the armor covering his stomach before he’d even hit the ground.
The Defender gulped, his sword fell out of his hand, and he tried to clasp Razi’s saber by the blade and pull it out, but her grip was too strong and the wound was too deep. Sierra and the Mind stepped closer to see the look of shock on his face.
“How short this life is, and how easy for it to end,” he muttered, gurgling and choking. He glanced around absently as his muscles relaxed and the luster went out of his eyes.
Sierra looked up to see Tommack carrying her mother, who appeared to be awake though tired. They came through the crowd to join Sierra, Razi, and the Mind. A few moments later Maglum joined them after exiting via the stairs and traversing the city streets. Minutes after, some of the Mind’s associates came to attend to its wounds.
“I’m finally free from him,” Tris said, producing a weak yet relieved smile.
“It looks like you did it,” Tommack said to Sierra, looking handsome as ever. Despite his previous failures, maybe he wasn’t such a bad guy to have around.
“No, I didn’t do anything. The Madorans had a problem with one of their own and the Madorans took care of it. Mom was right. We can’t help them, but they are fully capable of helping themselves,” she said, beaming at Razi and the Mind.
Razi’s Raiders had shown her what it was like to live on the edge with nothing but the clothes on her back, something the Madorans knew all too well. Many of them were one shirt away from nakedness, one meal from starvation, and one moment from being forgotten by the world, but Sierra would not deprive them of their singular opportunity.
Sierra still had Legacy in her hand, and she looked into its reflection, trying to see if there was anything in it that would help her shape the future of the Bracken family. It was another dear sacrifice, but it was the right thing to do. She turned once more to the Mind.
“The iron ore out in the wastes will give rise to a new and modern Madora, where poverty and hunger will became as scarce as money and food are now, but it will not be under Bracken control. I’ll point you to them, but you must develop these resources for yourself. I know you’ll do so for the good of all Madorans, and I look forward to the day when you make Madora a player on the world stage.”
All four of the Mind’s eyes regarded her carefully. They revealed pain, no doubt from the debilitating wounds sustained during the fight, but also hope and empowerment. While the male head nodded at Sierra, the female head, which seemed more willing to speak Cumerian, turned to Tris.
“By bringing such a sensible, resilient daughter as this to Madora, the Virtuoso has kept her vows and succeeded in saving our city.”
Sierra, struggling to hold back tears, put her hand on her mother’s head.
It was then that the Mind stood tall and addressed the gathered throngs, who occupied every nook, window, and open space on the street. Thousands were present, and as the Mind began to speak with booming oratory in its usual style, speaking at times with alternating voices and at others simultaneously, their growing enthusiasm and cheers instilled a sense that the message would spread until every single Madoran knew what was in store for them.
Sierra accepted that she would never know what the Mind communicated that brought them to such cheers and applause; it was between the Madorans. Without the Defender forcing the Mind into hiding underground, it could now take a powerful role in the city’s affairs, and the future for this poor city looked brighter than ever.
“What now?” her mother asked, standing unsteadily and leaning against Tommack. Sierra took a deep breath and understood there was only really one option.
“The Brackens will seek to restore ourselves in the only place it can be done—back in Cumeria. If we can help Randall, Taylor, and if fortune favors it my father, we’ll find a way to do so. If Madora can be saved, our own country and the ClawLands must not be lost forever,” she declared.
“And how are we going to do that?”
Sierra paused and bit her lip, wondering what could be done to shift the tide in Cumeria away from not just the Wozniaks and the Illiams, but Keize and the chancellor, as well. So much of it depended on any success her brothers had achieved following their own parts of their father’s dark plan. How could they make any decisions about what to do before they knew what awaited them?
“I have no idea how we’ll right our homeland, but I have more hope than ever we’ll find out soon enough.”
At a spot on the seashore just north of the city, Sierra spent the last few hours of daylight leisurely lounging on the beach with Tommack, Razi, Maglum, and her mother, who would need a few more cycles before she was ready to embark on the long trip back to Cumeria. Sierra had told the Mind how to get to the canyon in the wastes, and in
return it had promised her passage on a ship that would take them across the Still Sea to the western edge of the continent of Domorand, sparing them any entanglements that might come from conspicuously taking a plane from Iron City.
“How are you going to feel about leaving?” Sierra asked her mother. Tris was settled against a stiff sack, her feet just touching the edge of the water. Like the one on her neck, the scar on her lower stomach would remain, but it would not be fatal. Someone else might’ve died from those wounds, but the call of death had little pull on her.
“I think your father would be proud of what I’ve done. This was a lot for a gardener. As for me, I think I’m quite ready for some peace and quiet,” she said, though she did look older than she had when she’d left Cumeria. It was as if all that experience weighed on her. Perhaps returning home would revitalize her, but Sierra suspected only more troubles awaited them.
“You certainly deserve it,” Sierra said.
Tommack was using a stick to draw strange shapes in the sand. If it weren’t for him, their current situation might’ve been so much worse than it was.
“What are we going to do when we reach the homeland?” he asked, glancing over at her.
“We’ll find my brothers and help them bring stability and order to Cumeria,” she said. The words sounded nice, but she didn’t have a clue what they entailed. The Mind had told her about Randall’s upcoming special election, but what would happen after that was anyone’s guess. All Sierra could be certain of was that there were powerful entrenched interests in Cumeria with great weaponry and manpower at their disposal. The Brackens seemed to have little more than the tacit support of the Lu Dynasty, but favorable news coverage wouldn’t be worth much when it came to blows. They needed something that would help them fight back against the Wozniaks’ armored trucks and the Illiams’ zealot farmers.
The obstacles ahead sent a flash of despondency over Sierra, who sighed and leaned her head against her palm. Something buzzed around her head, and she casually swatted at it with her other hand. The sound vanished for a moment and then came back stronger than before. A dark flash fluttered in front of her eyes and landed on her leg.