by Tony Donadio
Diana frowned. “You’re not giving up, are you?” she said.
“Of course not.” He struggled to keep his voice even, and not to let the accusation in her words sting. “But just running out to join the battle will only get us killed. We need a plan. A realistic one.”
“What do you suggest, then?” Jameson asked.
Orion paused.
“A charge from the palace should draw most of the flying demons away from the rest of the city to counter it,” he said at last. “That will clear the air around us for a while. It’ll give us an opening to make a break to the east.”
“You want to flee?” Diana asked. Her eyes were narrowed and accusing.
“We can’t accomplish anything here,” Orion countered. “Small pockets of civilians like ours will only be slaughtered when the demons march into the city. We’ll need to join up with a larger force to be effective.”
Davin nodded in agreement. “That makes sense. Where do we go, then?”
“There’s a military base further out along the firth, near the outskirts of the city. If we can reach it, it should provide protection for those of us who can’t fight.” He stole a glance at the elderly shop owner, who was still crying uncontrollably.
“And for those of us who can, there will be weapons, and some strength in numbers,” he continued. “At least we could reinforce the garrison there. We can’t do any good here.”
The others considered what Orion had said. Diana faced him, eyes smoldering with frustrated anger. She wanted to argue with him. She was surprised to find that she couldn’t.
“I want to strike back, too,” he told her gently. His voice was steady, even, and sympathetic. “But we can’t. Not now, not from here. And I don’t think King Danor would want us to throw our lives away in a futile gesture of support. He’d want us to live long enough to strike a blow that made a difference.”
“That might even be part of the reason for the charge,” Davin added. “To draw the demons toward the palace, and give people trapped in the city a chance to escape, retreat and regroup.”
Orion nodded. “That thought had occurred to me as well.”
Diana let out a long, slow breath. “I suppose you’re right,” she said at last. Her words came out slowly and with difficulty. Her eyes were still filled with anger, but he could see with relief that it was no longer directed at him.
“I’ll go upstairs and tell Cooper the plan,” she said. “And have a good look for myself at how things are developing. If we do get a chance to make a break for the army base, then I guess we should probably take it.”
Diana sprang quickly up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Orion turned to the innkeeper.
“Let’s see about those weapons, Jameson,” he suggested.
~
The minutes passed swiftly as the group armed themselves with whatever they could find. Most of it turned out to be long knives from the kitchen. A quarterstaff, a few clubs and a pitchfork rounded out their makeshift arsenal.
When they were almost ready Orion noticed that the old shopkeeper hadn’t moved from her seat near the wall. She was still sobbing weakly. Her face was exhausted and drained of color. She looked up and saw him watching her.
“I’m not going with you,” she said softly. Her voice was resigned. “I’m staying here.”
Davin looked at her with concern. “It won’t be safe, ma’am.”
“I don’t care. It’s not safe out there either, whatever you say. I’m an old woman, and I don’t have the strength to run halfway across the city.”
“We’ll help you,” Davin offered.
“No,” Henry cut in. He walked slowly across the room, and sat down at the woman’s side. “Else is right. It’s the Day of Judgment, and we’re not going to scurry for our lives in desperation to escape our sin. When the demons come I’ll meet my end here, and do it with dignity.”
Orion frowned. “There’s nothing dignified about being torn apart by rampaging monsters. Is this really how you want your life to end?”
The old woman smiled, and patted Henry’s hand. “We will pray together for mercy from the gods. From Lady Tianth, and from Lord Akun, the all-seeing. That they may witness our faith and rescue us — or take our souls to join with the Divine.”
“We can’t force you —” Orion began.
He was interrupted by another sound from the city. The clanging peal of the Cathedral bells rang out suddenly. The horns from the palace took up their note again, and they joined the bells in a cacophony that echoed throughout the valley.
Diana flew down the stairs and into the common room at a run. “You were right!” she cried.
She raced up to Orion and threw her arms around him. Her eyes were alight, her face split by a broad grin. He caught her arms and tried gently to push her away from him, but the effort failed completely.
“Right about what?” he asked. His voice sounded awkward.
“Joining forces! Don’t you hear the bells?”
Orion looked at her, his eyes still a question. After a moment she seemed to realize what she was doing. She stepped back and let go of him, trying to compose herself.
“Oh, of course, you can’t see it from here. The King’s force won through to the Cathedral. The warrior priests are riding out to meet them. There’s a wall of magic cresting at their head like a wave. It’s sweeping the demons before them!”
Another cheer ran through the common room as Cooper came down the stairs, slinging a bow and quiver over his back. Davin stepped forward and clapped Orion on the shoulder.
“It’s just as you told us,” he said. “Divided we die, but together, we have a chance. The King will unite us, one group at a time — starting with the Church!”
Jameson turned to the pair at the table. “Do you still want to stay here?”
Henry looked at the old shopkeeper, and she nodded.
“The charge will fail,” he replied. “The priests are at the head of the corruption, and the gods won’t heed their call. We will wait here, and pray for redemption.”
Diana’s eyes narrowed. When her words came they were almost a hiss.
“That’s crazy. The worthy are those who fight for their lives. They don’t sit and wait to die.”
The others started in surprise, and the shopkeeper recoiled at the vehemence of her words. Davin grinned at her in appreciation. Orion looked at her carefully, trying to understand her sudden outburst of anger. Henry, however, only stared at her, unmoved.
Orion sighed. “We can’t force them. And we don’t have time to try to convince them.”
“He’s right,” Cooper said. “We need to go now.”
“Where?” Jameson asked. “Toward the Upper City, to help the King?”
Diana turned her back on the pair at the table.
“We’d never make it,” she said. Her voice was harsh.
“The demons may be retreating from the priests right now, but there’s still a whole army of them between us. Orion is right. We need to go down to the Lower City and east to the army base.”
Cooper nodded. “From upstairs we could see groups of people coming out of hiding to do the same. Most of them are running east along the firth. Even the guard stations are emptying.”
“They’re abandoning their posts?” Davin asked. He sounded surprised.
“I would,” Orion said. “When the demons turn this way, an isolated company of guards isn’t going to even slow them down. If they regroup with the main force they’ll at least have a chance of forming a line and holding it.”
“We stick to the plan, then,” Diana agreed. “Join the soldiers to the east, and help when they’re ready to drive against the enemy in the city.”
The others nodded. Orion cautiously opened the door a crack and peeked through.
“The streets and sky look clear for the moment.” He hefted the club he’d made from a table leg and rested it on his shoulder. “Let’s go — now!”
Prince in Flight
&nbs
p; The first few seconds of Gerard’s flight were a blur of spinning and panic. He struggled to bring both under control.
As he’d expected, his levitation spell was holding. And as he’d feared, the sudden force of his jump had upended him. The unpredictable gusts that blew along the slopes of Mount Cascade weren’t helping either.
He braced himself, waiting for his somersaulting to come under control. One of the first things he’d had to design into his spell was a stabilizing component. Without it, levitating objects would do just what he was doing: tumble uncontrollably once they were suspended in air.
The dweomer was doing its work, but with maddening slowness. He could feel it, like a set of small, gentle hands pushing all over his body. He waited through a seemingly interminable period of dizziness and disorientation. He fought to keep down a wave of nausea.
Finally he stopped spinning. The gusts near the mountainside subsided as he moved out over the city, and were replaced by a steady wind at his back. That was his mother’s spell, driving him on toward his goal. He could see it ahead in the distance: a far line of cliffs that rose above the south side of the Upper City.
He looked down. A brief flicker of vertigo gripped him at the sight of the earth far below, but he quickly brought it under control. Fortunately he was an experienced Pegasus rider, and accustomed to flying high above the ground. His mother had insisted on that, bringing her entire family to her homeland in the Nurian Mountains to learn the ways of the Sky Elves and their winged partners. It was disconcerting to be flying so high now without a mount, but he found himself adjusting to it quickly.
The hills at the western end of the valley were already dropping away below him. He was leaving the High City behind. He tried to get his bearings, to judge how high he was flying. Easily a thousand feet, he decided, and that was increasing as he approached the lower ground around the firth. He was surprised at how fast he was moving.
He looked to his right. From his vantage point above the city he could see the movements of forces set in motion by their plan. He felt a surge of pride as he watched his parents driving relentlessly at the foe, against impossible odds.
He could also see the warrior priests’ hasty muster at the Cathedral gate. He saw them summoning their magic, and beginning their charge down the Divine Way to smite the enemy’s forces from behind. He saw the bell-boys racing into the towers, to grab the ropes and sound the toll.
He forced himself to look away. His parents would be all right, he told himself. They had their mission, and he had his.
The air before him was almost empty of demons now. The way across the city was clear.
He glanced down again. This was the most dangerous part of his flight, he knew. He was passing almost directly over the hellgate, where the demons were marshaling around the tip of the firth. Unlike the air before him the ground below was thick with the massing army.
What he saw made him queasy with despair. He couldn’t begin to count the creatures, but there seemed to be many thousands of them now. They had overrun the amphitheater and were spilling into the surrounding streets.
And they were doing it with a ruthless efficiency that belied the stereotype of demons as rampaging and impulsive monsters. Their conduct bespoke a military training and discipline that had long been lost to the demons of Kalara. He fell to studying them, hoping to bring some useful information about the Horde with him when he reached the Archmage.
The Hellmen were smaller than the rest, roughly human sized, and easily recognizable by their characteristic red skin and red and black armor. There seemed to be thousands of them, collected into their own battalions, separated from the rest of the invaders.
The other demons were a mixed lot, varying widely in form, size, and power. The smallest and weakest of them still looked to be a match for several skilled soldiers, and many like they would need a full squad to combat effectively. The elite demons were the most powerful and least numerous. He guessed there were a couple of hundred of those all told, scattered throughout the host in positions of leadership.
Most imposing were the battle demons. Large, muscular, and physically powerful, Gerard knew that these armored juggernauts would be used to try to overwhelm and break even the strongest opposition. His breath caught when he saw that several hundred of them were running up the palace road.
He slowly released his breath as he watched the unfolding scene. He could see that the priests would reach the King’s knights before they arrived. But the newly united group would face a powerful challenge almost immediately after joining forces.
Again he forced himself to look away. There was nothing he could do to help them. The only thing he could do now was to bring the Ring of the Killravens to his grandfather.
He started to examine the forces around the tip of the firth, but thought better of it. He knew that some of the more powerful demons could sense being watched or scried, and he had already tempted fate more than he should have. His cloaking spell was still holding, but he could feel the never-ending pressure of the demons’ magic, threatening to penetrate it.
He heard the Cathedral bells beginning to toll — and shortly after, the rush of his mother’s wind strengthening at his back. He left the Horde behind and found himself sailing over the water of the firth.
Smiling, he turned his gaze back toward his goal, and settled himself for a long wait. Even with the wind’s help it would take a while to complete his journey. Lannamon was a large metropolis, and he was going to have to cross most of its length to reach the Silver Star.
To his surprise he found himself gaining altitude. Updrafts had developed in the high airs. That was likely because of the ebb and surge of the storm, he knew, as the Queen and the demons battled for control of the winds above the city.
He was concerned at first, but quickly dismissed it as a cause for worry. He’d have to take care not to overshoot the southern bluffs entirely, but he could compensate for the unexpected elevation. He would just have to descend more quickly at the end of his trip.
He looked to his right. The foothills of the Eldar Mountains receded slowly into the distance there, dotted with small towns and villages. Their many vineyards made the region a well-respected producer of fine wines. The hills eventually faded out, giving way to the dense forests of northern Carlissa.
He frowned. He had expected to see the countryside to the south begin to appear above the level of the cliffs. The day was clear, and from this height he should have been able to see as far as the border of the forestland. Instead, all he could make out was a wall of low-hanging clouds, dark and menacing. They hovered over the hills, obscuring his view of all but the nearest of them.
He glanced quickly behind. He could see that it wasn’t his mother’s storm that was responsible for this. She had summoned a single, large thunderhead that rose over the High City, around and above the palace. It billowed many thousands of feet into the sky, looking like great wads of cotton piled high on top of each other. Bolts of lightning lanced down from it at irregular intervals, followed a short while later by peals of booming thunder. But it was an isolated storm, tucked for all its height and fury neatly into the shadow of Mount Cascade.
The clouds to the south, by contrast, were hanging low to the ground. He could see their tops floating not much higher than his own height now. Perhaps if he were to rise just a bit, he could make out more about them from above.
His frown deepened as he adjusted his levitation spell to carry him higher. He wasn’t certain that was a good idea, but he found himself fighting a feeling of dread that he couldn’t shake. He kept his eyes trained on the cloud bank as he flew, rising slowly but steadily above the center of the firth.
It wasn’t long before he could see it. The cloud bank wasn’t just sitting over the foothills. It was moving, edging quickly around the bluffs. As he rose, he could make out the trail it had taken. Wisps of mist were burning away in the shape of a long, dissipating tail that went its way along the southern arm of the Eld
ar Mountains.
He squinted, looking directly ahead. He saw that an arm of clouds had emerged from the bank. Its leading edge had already passed the city’s eastern outskirts and was turning slowly northward. It looked almost like a great, foggy pseudopod, working its way around the City of Rainbows.
Gerard’s blood ran cold.
He turned to his left. The bluffs ran a little higher to the north, but he had risen enough now to see past them. Another bank of clouds was working its way around the city on the other side. It was still hidden from view by the cliff wall, but that wouldn’t last much longer. Before long the two arms would meet, surrounding Lannamon in a ring of fog.
With a sinking feeling, he finally recognized the clouds for what they were: a spell storm. They weren’t as tall or as violent as the thunderhead his mother had called to smite demons in the High City, but they were a similar kind of magic.
Unlike hers, however, these clouds weren’t being used as a weapon. They were a cloak. Like the fog over the amphitheater earlier, their purpose was to conceal something …
The cloud walls passed the end of the bluffs and came together in a dark mass. Gerard stared intently at it. It seemed to be tinged with a reddish haze, brightening and dimming, as though flames were erupting and subsiding within its heart. He could make out shadowy forms circling inside the brume, large and winged …
At last, he understood.
The demons at the hellgate were not the only invasion force coming to Carlissa. The monster that he and Aron had faced on the day of Zomoran’s rampage was not the only one of its kind among the magus’ allies. The flame dragons and the fire giants, long ago banished to the blasted mountains of the north and west, were returning to their ancient war with the men and elves of the Eastern Continent.
Gerard closed his eyes, his head sagging in defeat. With a surge of despair he knew in his heart that Lannamon, City of Rainbows, was truly lost.
Chapter 12 - The Hammer Falls
The Trap is Sprung