by Lynn Hardy
“I guess that leaves me. Don’t suppose you’d let me pass on this one?” Jamison murmurs.
“No way. It’s your turn to spill your guts.” Allinon’s urging carries a trace of his old attitude but it’s bearable. “We all have.”
“I had a totally boring life. There’s nothing to say. A rich couple adopted me, but I don’t know why. I might as well have been an orphan because I was raised by nannies. Yeah, I know they care. I just don’t feel all that attached. Never have. That’s why staying here is such an easy choice.” Turning to Allinon, he adds, “That enough guts for you?”
“So the ‘Annie story’ isn’t all it’s cracked up to be? I’d say that is a wake-up call.” The druid nods his head.
The midafternoon bells toll in the distance as I reaffirm why we are here. “Time’s getting short. Guys, you know where you’re going to be?”
Allinon gives a firm nod. “I’ll use my Druid abilities to hold the Northgate where I can pull strength from the forest.”
Jerik motions to Charles. “We’ll team up at the Eastgate.”
I dip my head in agreement. “Merithin will be at the Westgate with four of the soon-to-be Royal Guard. I’ll take Southgate where the strongest attack will likely come.”
“I know I’m needed for the wounded,” Jamison says. “The teams of roving healers with stretchers will be useless if I’m not there to triage the critical patients.” Creases appear in Jamison’s forehead as he frowns. “But I would feel better if I were out there with them. Your paladin stones will help, and they have the force field to duck behind, but barely a handful of them have any battle experience. I feel like I’m sending lambs to the slaughter.”
“Hey, every pack of sheep has their very own guardian wolf! You made sure your healing teams were assigned a street thug who is quite handy with a knife.” My analogy gets a half smile from my chestnut-headed companion. “They are used to dangerous situations and staying safe.”
“I still don’t like it. We’re split up around the wall. Reba, as a mage, you are vulnerable to physical attacks. At least one of us should be beside you.” Charles’s concern is touching, but the argument is getting old.
“I’m no more vulnerable than you. I bested you in practice.” I smirk. “We’ve been over this! You approved the strategy.”
“That was before I knew the expert swordsmen surrounding you would be the women, not me and Jerik.” Prince Charming pouts, looking even cuter.
“I made a promise to the guard. They’ll stand beside me. I barely got them to agree to protect Merithin as well.” With a sigh, I go over the reasoning one last time. “Szames will be with me. With him, I’ll have the emergency resources of the Royal Cavalry on standby and a sword by my side as well.”
“And that must irritate the heck out of Alex.” Jamison’s deft change of the topic is masterfully done. “His brother at your side while he watches over the castle’s battlement, not even allowed in the fight.”
Charles’s humor quickly reasserts itself. “Did ya see the look he gave his old man when Arturo tried to justify the position as a necessity by giving him a cavalry unit? How did he put it? ‘You will lead any critical charge in the event of a dire emergency.’ If looks could kill, it would’ve been patricide!”
“That’s one meeting I’m sorry I missed…” My sentence trails off as a knock sounds at the outer door.
Hearing a familiar voice, I rise to greet my royal guest. Now I know why Alex had a change of heart about flying. I guess escorting me to the assembly outweighs his fear of heights and magic.
I lead the way into the reception chamber with the guys forming a half circle behind me. Using the same cues we created on our arrival, we bow in unison to the crown prince, magnifying the importance of the moment.
“Your Highness.” I remain stooped, waiting for his acknowledgment.
“Archmage Reba, gentlemen.” The slight smile playing about his lips lets me know the gesture hit a home run.
And what a set of lips they are. My mind wanders as I take in his total ensemble. Although he has exerted none of his charm, I can’t help being aroused by the tall, dark, and handsome man in front of me.
The metal breastplate and cape highlight his broad shoulders and perfectly proportioned stature. The royal blue color provides the ideal accent to his eyes. When his fine-boned, manicured hand reaches for mine, placing it on his arm, I am alarmed at the similarity to Kyle’s. He escorts me past the bed on the way to the balcony. Why have I resisted him so fiercely when my life could very well be forfeited in the coming battle?
Principles, remember? And married and morals… and…
“Reba, I place my life in your hands.” Alex’s voice is husky, but I perceive no magic. “Perhaps it is something I should have done long ago, for who could resist an enchantress of your beauty?”
… and his conceited, manipulating flattery is an insult to the integrity of all women…
“I thank you for the trust you place in me, for both our lives will depend upon my concentration.” I exaggerate the needed attention, hoping he won’t try to ambush me once we are airborne.
“If you’re ready? There’s one thing you need to keep in mind, don’t let go of my hand. It’s all that keeps you aloft.” I feel a surge of sadistic pleasure as his face turns ashen.
Grasping his hand in one of mine and holding my staff in the other, I take us off the ground in a smooth, upward arch, soaring straight for the center of the shield. We approach our destination, and I address my partner in this magical endeavor. “If heights bother you, don’t look down.”
The comment has the expected result as Alex shoots a glance groundward. I hold in a chuckle as his grip on my hand tightens. Payback’s a bitch.
“I’m going to work the spell to add the new layer to the shield.” Closing my eyes, I try to bring our joined hands up to the force field.
Serves me right. I am unable to move our hands. When I try to draw energy from him, the resistance is so great, I am forced to take the needed energy from my staff instead. I begin the enchantment.
“You are strong, impenetrable, so
Outward another layer will grow.
Like a stun setting on a ray gun,
Touching you, they’ll no longer run.”
A teal-colored veil eases away from the original barrier. It continues moving until there is a thirty-foot gap between the two shining domes.
“The moat is now complete. Hopefully, waiting until today to activate the final shield will prevent them from finding a way around our best defense.”
Alex gives a terse nod. Even though I didn’t use him in the process, there is sweat on his brow.
Fighting off the guilt assaulting me, I take the scenic route. We fly over the assembled troops lined up ten abreast, winding around Castle Eldrich. The men cheer wildly, reaching up their hands as if to touch us.
“It seems your people adore you,” I murmur.
“My people have always adored me. I do not believe that is the reason for this outpouring. Seeing us together invigorates their faith in the prophecy. It gives them hope that we will survive this onslaught.” For once his response contains no flattery.
“Had I known that boosting the morale of the men could be accomplished so effortlessly, I would have put more energy into convincing you to soar by my side.” I return his smile, finding myself relaxing in his presence for the second time this morning. Gracefully as an eagle landing on a mountain peak, our toes touch the ground.
“My beautiful lady,”—He uses the possessive form of address that is supposed to be reserved for intimate couples.—“I always soar on hawk’s wings when I am next to you, whether or not my feet leave the ground.”
Not out of the air five seconds, and already he starts with this nonsense! Ignoring his last remark, I turn to bow to his father. “Your Majesty, I have no fear for the outcome of today’s battle with you watching over us.”
“With the Flame-haired One defending our gates, I
am certain of our victory in the Great Battle. Archmage Reba, we send with you our son, Prince Szames, General of the Forces of Cuthburan and Second Heir to the Throne. May your return be swift and victory complete.”
Dressed in my black leather combat uniform, covered by the shining silver robe, I feel every inch a warrior, worthy of King Arturo’s declaration.
As if on cue, William and Harold complete the last ten feet to our position, dutifully holding the horses while Prince Szames and I mount. Within minutes, Merithin and the rest of the Crusaders of the Light are mounted beside us. Eight priests line up to perform a blessing from their god, whose chosen number of strength is eight. Horns blare out into the quiet dusk of evening. The ritual continues, while we lead the army through the castle’s gate, flanked by the Wizard’s Guard of Eight.
The air is crisp. The skies are clear. Throngs of people line the streets. There is fear in their solemn eyes, but they hold their heads high as we pass, resolutely pounding wooden blocks together in a double-rhythmic beat. Their odd salute thrums in my ears, like the pulse of this strange world, as we march toward our waiting destiny.
Jerik and Charles are the first to depart the procession. The warriors turn down a street heading east. Allinon soon follows, traveling north. Two columns of soldiers follow both groups.
When Szames, four of the Eight Guards, and I turn southward, three of the remaining six columns trail behind us. My thoughts turn inward. I use the remainder of the journey to make my peace with God, in case the unimaginable should come to pass.
We dismount, leaving our steeds with guards at the gate. With Szames as escort, I take my first step outside the city that has summoned me from my home. Twenty feet from the entrance, we turn and face the troops. Andrayia and Mikaela stand beside me, and Sheridan and Keeton take up positions next to Szames, my appointed Wizard’s Guard.
Wrapped in the silence of our own thoughts, we watch as the columns split to divide their number. They spread out along the stone wall, encasing the Jewel of Cuthburan in a bristling fortification of steel and flesh.
Healers, designated by a green sash and shimmering canteens of healing potion at their waist, follow the guards. In groups of four, they skitter down the wall, carrying stretchers made out of wooden poles and cloth.
The screeching of metal echoes into the dimming night as massive bars are lowered, locking the gates behind us. The solitary entrance into the city is now a small door located beside the guard’s station. The roving teams of healers will deliver the wounded through that portal.
Shining helms along the top of the wall gleam in the starlit night as archers take their places. Lampposts are positioned twenty feet from the wall. They represent the safety line of the force field. Darkness is upon us. The posts provide a ring of illumination around the city. Even those without magesight can see outward to about seventy-five feet. Hair along the back of my neck rises. Our enemy is gathering.
A breeze wafts past, carrying with it a putrid stench. The odor brings a feeling of death and waste. A chill creeps down my spine. Straining my senses, I peer out beyond the supernatural illumination. More than a hundred yards out, congregating beyond the light, odd-shaped patches of darkness form an approaching tide of evil.
How deep these waves of darkness extend, I can’t determine. For the first time in my life, I know true fear. If I die tonight, Kyle may never know what happened to me. I’ll just be another missing person who’s never found. Dread grips me. My bowels turn to water. Minutes pass before I remember to breathe.
I shake off the unwanted emotion like a coyote ridding itself of the morning dew. Reaching out to touch the arm of my royal guardian, my voice remains rock steady, “Ready or not, here they come.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“Present arms,” Szames’s voice booms out. The command echoes down the walls as field commanders repeat it. The night air sings with the sounds of ringing metal as hundreds of blades are drawn.
“Hupp.” Szames turns toward the force field, bringing us even with the safety line.
Having strapped the staff to my back, my hands are free. I place them before me, making a triangle with my thumb and forefinger. I whisper, “Magefire.”
A writhing ball of blue flames appears in the space between my hands. The magical sphere of death races toward our foes, pulling in energy. It grows larger the farther it travels. A trio of ogres is illuminated seconds before the orb disintegrates the three demons and several others in the front line.
As if my opening volley is a cue, the monsters surrounding the capital city cry into the dark night. The demonic chittering makes my flesh crawl. A hellish scene worse than any nightmare vision springs to life. The oily darkness of the inhuman evil surges toward us.
“Magefire, magefire, magefire…” I continue chanting, casting fireballs far down the line to either side. Over and over again, I release the balls of bubbling energy at the charging mass. Before the ashes have settled to the ground, more monsters flow into the places left by the vaporized beasts.
Arrows rain down from above. Dark shapes fall, trampled by their own comrades. They come faster than I can destroy them, even with the help of the archers. The monsters reach the stun-shield, entering the moat.
The demons tumble to the ground as they hit the shield. The monstrosities lie motionless, their nervous systems stunned into paralysis. A roar erupts from thousands of human throats. Armored men rush forward. The true battle begins.
The earth is stained black with demons’ blood. Still they come. The monsters climb over the bodies of their own kind. I draw my staff and switch to my laser weapon for the close engagement of the enemy. The night wears on, passing in a blur.
A soldier climbs onto the pile of dark bodies, eager to dispatch a creature that rolled down the mountain of flesh, lying just beyond the moat. Swooping down silently from above, a wyvern snatches the soldier in its talons before I can get off a shot. Another man slices into the neck of a four-legged beast. The acid blood of the beast saturates his face, eventually penetrating the protection of the paladin stone. His agonized cry echoes into the night.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see a massive club begin to rise from the pile of dispatched demons. The orc swings the weapon in an arch toward Andrayia’s back. I extend my hand.
“Laser.” The spiked club explodes as the blonde warrior swings around. A chunk of timber the size of a broom handle splinters off. A sliver of wood manages to penetrate the shield protecting her, catching Andrayia in the left arm. Red blood is added to the dark substance coating her. Whispering, “Laser,” again takes the life of the orc, who had lain unconscious, hidden beneath his companions, for the past several hours.
The woman who, before this night, considered me her foremost adversary gives a nod. The thanks in her eyes says more than words could.
The battle lags. Szames calls out, “Stand down!”
Listening to the confirmation echoing down the lines, I step forward as the rest of the men retreat back to safety.
“A burial pyre is undeserved by thee;
However, dissolved by fire, demons shall be.”
Hands, grown numb to any stimulation created by the power I wield, reach out to the pile of bodies. Blue flames engulf the monsters. They spread faster than thought. Anything in contact with them is consumed by the magical flames. Within seconds an azure ring blazes to life, surrounding the castle in magical brilliance. The enchantment disappears. The field before us can be seen once again. A cheer arises from the throats of the soldiers.
Minutes pass, giving all a much-needed rest. Still, no enemy appears. I walk back to where Szames is waiting with the guards. “That can’t be their entire strategy, throwing hordes of demons at us?”
“Before your arrival, it would have been enough to breach our walls. But you are right; they have shown far more intelligence than that. This is not over yet.”
I look to our left in time to see an orange fireball streak out from the Westgate position. It
travels across the sky, smashing into an immense, red wall hovering in the heavens.
A white flash blinds my vision. I squeeze my eyes shut against the brilliance. The world comes back into focus again. I see a ruby shield coming into contact with the force field. Lightning sizzles along our major defense as the area of contact spreads. With an earsplitting pop, the blue and red shields burst like a gigantic bubble. I watch helplessly as the Cuthburan army is annihilated by the massive demon hiding behind that ruby cloak.
A brief flash of light causes me to squint. The Jewel of Cuthburan is set to torch. Thousands of voices shriek into the inky night. Eyes wide in horror, I am blinded by the next flash.
The spots fade. I can make out a cerulean haze surrounding the castle. The scarlet cloud is still a fair distance off toward the horizon. There’s still time.
“I’m going to help Merithin. Szames, use magesight to keep an eye on this end. If something approaches, holler.”
My guardian nods tersely before whispering, “Sight.”
Turning to the four women looking to me for directions, I make a quick decision. “Mikaela and Andrayia, you’re with me. Mikaela, you’ve got a little mage energy. I’ll borrow it so we can make better time.”
I provide a short version of the standard explanation then take one of their hands in each of mine. Lifting our feet inches from the ground, we swoop down the moat corridor twice as fast as we could have traveled on horseback.
Touching down next to Merithin, the sorcerer gives a nod. “Impeccable timing, milady. What that shield hides, I cannot tell, but it is magical in nature. I dared not drain my resources to reveal our enemy before your arrival. It will take most of my remaining power to break it.”
I recognize a familiar face in the crowd around us. “With any luck, that won’t be necessary.” Grimacing, I hail the soldier. “Lieutenant Craig, your positioning is fortuitous.”
The lanky, brown-haired man gives me a broad smile.
I continue to explain, “The supply of magical energy is going to be a deciding point in this battle. We have a situation that requires a substantial amount of it.”