by Lee M Eason
Carrick and Gwen found their way back to the Commander and Gattick, quickly followed by Kara and an exhausted Lors.
“Well done,” the commander praised. “Now get yourselves down below and rest,” he ordered.
“The air’s clearing,” Carrick noted.
“Still can’t see much,” Gwen said peering out.
“He probably knows we’re low on powder and may alter his attack,” the Commander speculated.
“He hasn’t used his Summoners yet,” Gattick reminded. “If he is about to alter his tactics it might be sensible to get ours in place.”
***
Naicarn watched the girl walk through the doorway and into the chamber beyond. The realisation he’d been used was now pushed aside by his driving curiosity - what lay beyond the portal?
He expected a vast chamber, a testament to the legacy and art of The Panids, but walked into a circular room thirty to forty feet across. The walls were smooth and carved with familiar symbols. His eye was caught as one illuminated for an instant. The weak light tracing the symbol and then moving to the next, one after the other endlessly reinforcing the fields The Panids had created to maintain The Field’s Cap. Their voices could still be heard in the faint murmur that touched the edge of hearing. In the dim light he watched the girl reach the centre of the room. Movement made him look to the wall near her, he almost expected to see a Panid, as something faint stepped out of the symbols. The characters seemed to exude it. He recognised it as a form field but how it could move without being fully realised he didn’t know. It seemed drawn in the air from faint glowing lines that detailed its arms, legs and a body that supported several heads. All different, all set with multiple eyes that glowed with an intensity greater than the rest of its form.
The Field’s Cap stepped fully into the chamber faint tendrils linking it to the symbols it was a part of. Four heads looked in four separate directions, seeing far beyond the walls of the chamber. The fifth head studied Jenna, taking no interest in Naicarn. It began to circle, examining her and then, seeing she was unharmed, the fifth head turned to Naicarn.
“Do you know us?” the voice entered his head directly.
“I know now that you are the creation of The Panids who sought to bring order to the Talents of this world. Beyond that I have little knowledge or understanding of you.”
“Yet we know and understand much of you.”
The words unsettled him. He didn’t like the disadvantage but Naicarn could only ask “How?”
“You more than any other pushed against us in your need to access more of the field. The Head That Looks South became aware of you. One who stood out amongst thousands.”
Naicarn suspected this was one of The Children, the last of the Elementals the greatest and most powerful of The Panids’ creations. Its name alone, like so many of The Children’s, gave away its origins. It was ironic that every Talent on the continent used it without making the now obvious connection.
“As you sought to develop your skills for your own ends we also saw a way for you to aid us in ours. As your ability grew and your connection to the field deepened we were able to influence you through that connection.”
“The whispers,” Naicarn concluded. “I’ve aided you, how?”
“This Chamber fails. The purpose of our creation is in danger of being unfulfilled. We needed you to find us and open the complex.”
“To find you?”
“We can see the world through the eyes of others only. But none alive today remember its location.”
“There are still Panids alive. They would know your location. You could have used them,” Naicarn snapped.
“This is not allowed. It is bad enough that we deceived some of The Children, unfortunate that we were forced to influence you and regretful that The Prize had to be brought here in this way. To use a Panid would be impossible. We have done what had to be done.”
Naicarn understood what The Field’s Cap meant by the purpose- its role to limit the ability of all Talents to access the field and so prevent the chance of another Great War. It saw itself as a warden, one whose role was to protect, to monitor and to limit. He understood his role in aiding the girl’s entry and that she too must have been guided north, somehow, until she was close enough for the influence of The Field’s Cap to take direct control. He wondered briefly at what circumstances had brought her here.
“The girl, she will help you achieve your purpose?”
“The Chamber fails. The Prize will not be harmed.” The head responded as if this was explanation enough. Though Naicarn sensed it was deliberately limiting its answer. “You have not answered my question.”
If the head could register unease, there was a hint of that in the glow of its linear face. “The Chamber fails, it is old and will not be able to support us. We are weakened. We are losing our influence over the field and we will fail our purpose,” It took a step towards him. “The Prize will not be harmed.” It said this again as if trying to convince itself. “The Prize will share with us her natural connection to the field and we will no longer need the chamber. The room will fail but we will continue as one with The Prize and the field. The purpose is everything.”
Naicarn understood fully and knew the girl could not be allowed to ‘share’ her ability with The Field’s Cap. If it became a part of her and thus the field, it would permanently control and limit the abilities of all Talents. His Order would continue as they were. If this could be stopped an unlimited field would force his Order in a new direction and the continent would be compelled to view them with respect. There was an opportunity. Perhaps his wishes could still be made reality. He focused his will and began to draw on the field. The Field’s Cap did not react and so he continued.
“You have done much The Panids would frown upon,” he played for time. “By your own admittance it would appear you have lied to your own kind.”
“Our purpose is everything.”
“You manipulated Talents to your own ends.”
“That which we were created for must be continued. The Panids willed it.”
“I could aide you. The Chamber could be repaired.”
“You are not a Panid. They were many. You are one.”
“Others could be persuaded.”
The Field’s Cap looked at the girl. “Others would not understand.”
“Then you realise using her is wrong,”
“Our purpose is everything,” its tone had changed. Its answers were becoming defensive.
Naicarn could see its understanding was limited and focused on one solution. Seeing he too had no other choices, he made his decision.
“Then you will not allow the girl to leave.”
“No,” the answer was abrupt
Naicarn reached into his pocket and pulled out a small copper sphere intending to throw it at The Field’s Cap and the girl.
“Naicarn!”
Kellim’s voice startled him. The sphere skidded along the floor wide of its mark. Without the augmentation of his will it exploded with less effect, flinging the girl across the room and into the wall. The Field’s Cap rippled in the shock waves and faltered confused by the new sensation.
“You must not harm,” it said in bewilderment, its hand reaching out to The Prize unsure what to do.
“You fool!” Kellim shouted directing the field to disable Naicarn. The Amarian pushed back with the potential he had been amassing. Kellim shielded himself and the force hit the wall rippling across its surface. Lewen ran to Jenna but was flung to the floor as Naicarn and Kellim unleashed the power of the field. Wills locked, the air between them rippled. The fabric of the field warped. Lewen scrambled to his feet only to be thrown aside again. Crackling energy arched like lightening across the chamber. Dazed, he went to move, pain lanced down his leg and he called out, gritting his teeth against it. Powerful tendrils of energy ravaged and flashed about him. The chamber shook and rubble began to fall from the ceiling. Kellim and Naicarn’s struggle threatened to
tear the chamber apart. He could only just make out Jenna’s body lying awkwardly on the floor. Lewen dragged himself along, his breathing short from pain. He had to cover his head repeatedly as searing arcs searched for release. Peering through the chaos he began to panic, Jenna wasn’t moving. He struggled on.
The endless cycle of the symbols faltered. The Field’s Cap looked about it, feeling the change. The form field struggled to continue its purpose and cope with the overwhelming flood of new sensations that assailed it. The world closed in as it staggered to The Prize. Flares of energy cut through it, jarring its form, causing parts to waver as it laboured towards Jenna. Lewen saw this and in desperation half scrambled, half fell across the remaining distance in an attempt to block it. The chamber shuddered as The Field’s Cap touched her. Too late Lewen threw himself at the failing form field.
Kellim shouted in horror. The instant Lewen touched The Field’s Cap he was overwhelmed. Everything he was ceased, swept away in an instant along with Jenna. Naicarn saw his chance and struck out at Kellim. The Panid was hurled out of the chamber. Naicarn turned, wielding the writhing potential and unleashed it at The Field’s Cap. Raw energy ripped and tore at the walls, the floor and ceiling. The repetition of the symbols ceased and The Field’s Cap destabilised and suddenly imploded. Naicarn was sucked in. He clutched desperately at the floor as he was dragged along. Clutching and scrabbling, his hand finally found a crack as slabs from the floor began to lift and bounce into the vortex. He clung on, legs flailing in the air as the implosion pulled in everything it could. As it collapsed the pull increased and the fury of the air rose to a howling gale. The implosion became a point and for an instant time froze. The point blinked and light flared, searing through the collapsing chamber. The field was channelled upwards to the surface and then released in a great boiling wave that swept outward re-energising the field.
Chapter 21
Segat slammed his hands down on his campaign desk scattering papers to the floor. General Imed and his commanders stood stiffly to attention, their expressions impassive; any trace of disapproval would earn them a slow death. They all avoided the gaze of the two covered figures stood behind The Emperor.
“Why is it you cannot fulfil the simplest of my wishes!” he raged, hands still clenched on the desktop. “Why must I suffer this humiliation at the hands of The Amarians? Do you know that they will be laughing at me as we speak? You fail me time and time again.” His voice rose even further. “The sky ship attack - a disaster, the powder weapons - futile. You assured me. You promised me!” he bawled red-faced pointing at Imed.
“I have turned Ildra into a force to be reckoned with,” he banged his hands on the table again and stood. Almost jumping out of the chair. “From the quivering quaking joke of the continent to the core of an empire. I have built this. My vision, my foresight, my planning and now you, you want to ruin all I have achieved. I have swept the armies of the south aside. I have been unstoppable. They are terrified of me. But why, why now is my progress faltering?” he jabbed a finger at them. “Two defeats. Two defeats down to your incompetence!”
General Imed looked ahead jaw clenched, his face burning. His commanders kept their eyes focused on the floor. Segat glared at Imed until he also looked down. He would have continued his tirade but words failed him. His anger was about to overwhelm him and he could feel his throat constricting. “Get out!” he managed and then screamed when they faltered. “Get out!”
The men left with sidelong glances at each other.
Segat fell into his chair clutching at the remaining papers in front of him screwing them up until he had no more strength in his hands. He threw them aside rising again from his chair and knocking it over. It caught his leg and he kicked at it petulantly, sending it crashing to the side as he stormed over to the tent entrance.
“Get me VaCalt!” he bawled at a startled guard.
The Head of the Ildran Order paused momentarily outside the tent angered at being summoned. She was twice his age and more than his equal, physically and mentally but Segat could end her life on a whim. So, setting her face she entered, subservience her watch word.
“Sire, you commanded my attendance,” she bowed stiffly as she spoke.
“What kept you?” Segat snapped.
“I apologise,” VaCalt knew excuses, no matter how valid, would not be accepted and so she offered none. Segat had always been volatile at the best of times but now she saw new signs in his mood swings. The stress and pressure of the protracted campaign was beginning to push him towards instability.
He was pacing the tent a hand tightly gripping the dagger he now carried, the other rubbing agitatedly at his forehead. She was also aware of the two figures, silent and ever present. They were a reminder of knowledge and power denied her and of her mortality. Several key Adepts from her Order had met their end at the touch of those faceless creations. Their presence made her shudder she feared them, only a fool wouldn’t.
“They have been unable to fulfil their promises,” he said still pacing. “I want the Amarian crown VaCalt. I want to sit in that diamond throne. I want them to pay for the death of Illia. Yet The Hand remains and my generals have failed me.”
VaCalt almost enjoyed the words. She could only begin to imagine the humiliation General Imed must have felt and as always his failure could be turned to her advantage.
“My Summoners are ready Sire. The Amarians will not be able to counter this next assault. Where General Imed has failed you, I shall bring you triumph. The throne of Amaria will finally acknowledge their role in the death of Illia. The Empress will grovel at your feet and the throne will be yours.”
Segat stopped pacing and stepped closer to her, his face too close to hers. Yet she defiantly met his gaze. “This promise you must deliver VaCalt.” He looked meaningfully over at the two figures. The Head of the Ildran Order looked away.
***
“Commander! Movement.” The soldier moved aside so that he could look through the scope.
“What do you make of it Chancellor?”
Gattick had angled his own telescope round. “Summoners!” Not waiting to be told he signalled the Order.
The four remaining Amarian Summoners focused their wills and began realising the form fields they had built and prepared earlier. It was now a race against time to complete theirs before the Ildrans used up the capacity of the field. Create The Elementals too early and the Adepts would not be able to maintain them, start too late and there wouldn’t be enough energy to complete them. On the Amarian side of the fortress Kara and Gwen kicked their mounts into a full gallop. Putting as much distance between themselves and the pass, hoping to find the point where the field strength would be strong enough to support a jump to Halleck.
Soldiers and Talents watched the pass for signs of the Ildran Summoners work. Someone called out and eyes found the spot where points of light had begun to appear. Several hundred yards from the wall five forms coalesced in the air signalling the formation of very large form fields. Vapour and sand were sucked into the fields providing the materials to create living tissue or energy. The Commander gave his orders and the remaining powder was loaded, ready for firing. The trebuchet crews set their huge mechanisms to work filling the air with the sounds of their motion as boulders were flung at the emerging figures in an attempt to disrupt them. Five Fury formed fully, bigger than the one that had attacked Kara and Amar but still not as big as the original Elementals created by The Panids. The harsh noise of their presence almost drowned out the sound of the trebuchet and ensuing powder weapon fire. Rocks and iron struck The Fury but were either absorbed or deflected by the sweeping flares that arced out from them scorching the air and fusing sand to glass.
At almost the same time The Amarian Summoners creations became solid a fourth form flickered and dwindled, the field unable to support it. Three Blaze erupted into life. Almost as big as The Fury their molten bodies burnt and roared, a mass of intense flame. Soldiers up on the walls shielded their fa
ces. Even at this distance the heat scorched hair. The Blaze walked forward, their Summoners deep in concentration directing the movement. Soldiers and Talents alike watched anxiously from the wall as the Elementals strode towards three of The Fury.
The Twins and The Hunter appeared on the desert plain, Lors only just accomplishing the transport.
“Will he be able to get back here?” the Commander shouted, once again having to raise his voice to be heard above the noise of the artillery and the Elementals.
“It’s a miracle he got them down there!” Carrick replied.
“Can you help him?”
Carrick moved closer to make himself heard. “There isn’t enough free energy to light a candle at the minute. The field is strong here but these things take immense amounts of energy to sustain them!”
“Look!” Gwen pointed as Lors faded. For seconds he appeared in two places, the desert plain below and on the wall near them. Both images flickered and then Lors was with them. He stumbled forward but held up a hand against any help.
“He’s not stable,” Gwen called rushing over to ward off anyone.
The Commander turned back to his view of the pass, raising his voice to speak to an aide close enough to hear him. “Wait for them to engage and then concentrate all artillery on the remaining Fury.”
Blaze grappled with Fury their energy fields clashing and coalescing in violent eruptions that swept the ground.
The three Children broke into a run, The Twins huge trunk like legs propelling them with considerable speed. Standing nearly as tall as The Fury they carried huge curved swords each the size of a full-grown man and great shields the size of doors. The Hunter ran beside them bellowing a roar of defiance at The Fury they now closed on. The Hunter leapt onto a Fury’s back sinking enormous fangs into its neck, locking on as it twisted to shake her off. Claws latched deep in to the body of the creature. The Twins delivered and blocked blows apparently unharmed by the raging energy about them.