Ranger

by William Stacey

  "Out! I'm out!" said Dimmi, drawing his fighting ax.

  Alex handed him his pistol.

  "Get ready!" Valentin yelled.

  Men screaming in Russian surged past them and into the keep, sweeping around them as if they were pebbles in a stream, firing their assault rifles and swinging hand-to-hand weapons. Martinez and Lee joined them, firing short bursts from their Tac rifles.

  Martinez paused and grinned at Alex. "Ain't nobody ever gonna believe I went to war with Ruskies." He began firing again.

  "Get out of the way!" Ylra yelled, shoving them to the side just seconds before Leela thundered past in her rig.

  Alex's wife smashed into a knot of defenders, bowling them over like pins. One troll screamed in rage and brought a massive ax down on one soldier, cutting him in half. Ylra swung her anti-material rifle to her shoulder and fired, punching a hole through the troll's chest that Alex could see through.

  It took less than twenty seconds of desperate fighting to secure the keep. The last dark elf standing was a particularly skilled warrior who had killed or wounded several Russians, but Leela brushed her two-handed sword aside with her armored forearm and punched her in the face hard enough to break her neck. The keep was theirs.

  "Get the hostages! Save them!" Valentin yelled, pointing to the tunnel opening that Veraxia had disappeared into earlier.

  Before anyone reacted, a rush of women, old men, and children ran from the tunnel. Among them, holding a young babe under her arm, was Veraxia, beaming triumphantly. She had even pushed her chain-mail sleeve up, exposing her arm so that the rings wouldn't scratch the infant.

  A young woman with long brown hair and holding the hand of a young boy only four or five shrieked in joy and surged forward to embrace Valentin. The boy gripped the man's thigh tightly, tears running down his face. It had to be Valentin's family. The boy shared the same intense blue eyes and unruly blond hair.

  The other hostages ran to hug their men. A teenaged girl wearing a unicorn T-shirt ran to the man carrying Sharon, sobbing and trying to get a response from the comatose woman. Another man gently pulled her away, muttering and shaking his head.

  A woman ran to Veraxia and begged her to hand over the child, which she did. Dimmi joined the woman and babe and hugged them both.

  "I'm sorry, Alex the Ranger," Veraxia said. "I couldn't stop all the flooding, but I convinced the guard to show me the cell-release lever before anyone drowned. She was most obliging for a fae. Still, I imagine the water level in the crèche has dropped somewhat."

  She was right, he realized as he looked out over the bridge, where the surface of the black pool had fallen at least four feet, exposing the tops of thousands of glistening round objects—boggart eggs—each two feet wide. A net of what looked like seaweed held the objects in place, and he now saw movement within some eggs. "Don't worry," he told Veraxia, squeezing her exposed arm. "You did—" He snatched his hand back, staring at her in shock—her forearm had felt like steel cables. He thought of the gate and everything else the dark-elf priestess had done over the last few days. Fear twisted his gut. "What are you?"

  She smiled. It might have been the light, but her once-yellow eyes flashed bloodred. "I'm—"

  A long, piercing blast of a horn cut across the air, ending the tear-filled reunion. Alex saw hundreds of the queen's Storm Guard warriors surge out of the entrance to the cavern and down the steps to the bridge. The real battle was just beginning.

  54

  Tuatha dreamed she stood atop her star tower, raining streams of molten fire upon the spiteful silver dragon that so vexed her. She reveled in the monster's screams as her weapon cut it apart, ripping holes through its scaled torso. She was about to finish the wyrm when something tore her from her sleep. My alarm wards!

  She bolted upright in bed, her heart pounding. A mage other than one of her own had just cast a spell within her fortress. An enemy was in the fortress.

  "Alarm!" she screamed, hearing the fear in her voice and hating herself for her weakness. She repeated her yell.

  Then someone blew an alarm horn, its urgent warning echoing throughout the fortress. In moments, she heard the excited yells of her Storm Guards.

  Rizleoghin hissed in anger as her bedchamber door opened, ready to pounce on whoever came through. She flashed a message through their mind-tether, calming the spider-demon as two of her best Storm Guard warriors marched inside. Cal Endralia came behind them, her Ettin-bone cane striking the floor tiles. Excitement flashed in the elderly spymaster's eyes. Behind the spymaster was the commander of her Storm Guard, Kendrassia Half-Heart, and hiding behind her was Rooth Balmorin, her High Mage-Elder. If all three were here, rushed out of their beds while it was still dark, then it was truly an emergency she faced.

  But Tuatha was queen of an empire for a reason. She filled herself with enough mana to burn everyone in her bedchamber to ash and swung out of bed, wearing nothing but her shift, and faced her advisors. "Tell me."

  Cal Endralia answered first. "Manlings, my queen. They're in the crèche."

  Tuatha's eyes flicked to a flash of movement near the doorway, and she saw the mage-scout Terlissandia waiting, already wearing her dark-leather armor and weapons, ready for battle. Good woman.

  "What do you mean, 'They're in the crèche'? How is it possible with no one noticing? They've only now tripped my wards, so they weren't cloaked in Shadow-Soul."

  "I-I don't know, m-my queen," stammered the mouselike Rooth Balmorin. "Is… is it possible they possess a Shatkur orb? Could one have survived somehow?"

  The thought that one of the three precious orbs had survived the cataclysm that followed the destruction of her Culling Machine had never occurred to Tuatha, but if so, the manlings could have created a gateway into the underground caverns beneath her fortress. "Wait." A thought occurred to her. "Even if the manlings have a Shatkur orb, without prior knowledge of the underground, they'd be unable to know where to open a gateway."

  Kendrassia Half-Heart, her scarred visage resolute, stepped forward. "However they came here, my queen, they are here. They've taken the keep in the crèche. Even now, my warriors are ready to attack."

  "Damn them to the Red Ether," Tuatha seethed with fury. "This must be Wolf. He's trying to free his people. Damn the traitor. But how?"

  "My queen," said Terlissandia from the doorway, her eyes lowered in respect.

  Tuatha stared at her. "Speak."

  "The traitors that served the Empress Twins, before we put them to the sword, they spoke of how the manlings had appeared on the battlefield through glowing circles. Perhaps the manlings no longer need Shatkur Orbs to open gateways."

  "Nonsense!" insisted Rooth Balmorin in outrage. "They… they were lying. A blatant attempt to save their lives."

  Tuatha understood Balmorin's panicked outrage. As she was High Mage-Elder, it was her responsibility to understand new magic—a task at which she had failed miserably, if this was the first Tuatha had heard of this new manling ability. She closed her eyes, breathing deeply, forcing her rage down. Now was the time for swift, decisive action, not fury. She didn't care a fairy's fart for the manling prisoners—she'd endure without Wolf's Iron Warriors now that the civil war had turned in her favor—but the boggart eggs… losing her leverage over the boggarts would be a true disaster. She faced Kendrassia Half-Heart. "Send your Storm Guard into battle—all of them—and the boggarts and trolls. Leave no one back, no reserve. Take every warrior from the walls, but we must stop them."

  "Yes, my queen," said the one-eared warrior, striking her cuirass with her mailed fist, and stormed off.

  "Wait, my queen," said Rooth Balmorin, wringing her hands before her. "We must bargain with them, delay until we find out how they found their way past our defenses without our notice. They may have powerful magic we don't understand. We should talk to them under a flag of truce."

  Tuatha's eyes darted to Terlissandia. "You wish to serve me, Mage-Scout?" she asked.

  "Yes, my queen."

&n
bsp; "Then kill this one." She glanced at Rooth Balmorin.

  The High Mage-Elder's eyes widened with fear, and she tried to draw magic into herself, but Terlissandia swept into the bedchamber, her knife flashing out impossibly fast as she cut Balmorin's throat open from behind. Balmorin spun, blood spraying, but the two Storm Guards caught her and hauled her from the bedchamber while she was still thrashing, bleeding out.

  "My queen," said Cal Endralia, stepping away from the blood. "What of the prisoners, Wolf's people?"

  "Wolf's people?" Tuatha stared at her in confusion. "What do you think? Kill them," she said, speaking sternly and slowly, as if to a willful child. "Kill every manling man, woman, or child you find, even the babes. No quarter. No mercy."

  "What will you do, my queen?" the spymaster asked.

  "Prepare for battle."

  Alex, once again wearing his Strike Force helmet, waited with Valentin and his men on the keep's walls as the enemy attacked. The first dark-elf assault came within moments of the enemy's arrival. The enemy, both boggarts and plate-mail-clad Storm Guard warriors, rushed onto the bridge, screaming as they charged the keep with its new defenders.

  "Fire!" Valentin commanded.

  His surviving thirty men opened fire at the same moment. While most of the Russians had Kalashnikov assault rifles, two men operated PKP 7.62mm heavy machine guns fed by belted ammunition. The onslaught of direct fire onto the narrow bridge was devastating, ripping the enemy apart. The attack faltered, and the stunned enemy retreated.

  "Get ready!" Valentin yelled. "They'll be back."

  Alex adjusted his binocular vision and saw the enemy forces mustering for another attack. "There's a lot," he whispered.

  "Time to go," Valentin said.

  Alex and Valentin took the steps into the keep's courtyard and joined the throng of civilians milling about in the now-cramped space. As quickly as she had started it, Dominika had put out the fire, so that now the building only smoldered, with smoke hanging in the air. We need to go now, Alex mused. They're going to keep coming until they overwhelm us.

  Valentin's men had placed the suitcase nuke against a wall, as far from the others as they could, but it didn't matter—it was still a nuclear bomb. Even a small yield would bring down everything—the cavern, the fortress… most of the island.

  Alex eyed the bomb warily. "You're certain it'll detonate?"

  "I think so, yes," said Valentin. "If not, the explosives will spread the radioactive material, turning it into a dirty bomb. Every living thing on this island will die of radiation poisoning. Even if we die today, so does the queen."

  "We're not dying."

  Alex joined his wife. Ylra was with her, showing her something on the control console on her forearm.

  "Need that way out now, hon."

  "On it," Ylra said while she stabbed her thick dwarf fingers at the console. She looked about, mild panic in her eyes, and yelled at Lee and Martinez nearby. "Clear that corner. Hurry!"

  Both men urged the civilians out of the way.

  "Do it," said Ylra.

  Leela channeled, and in a flash of light, the new gateway opened. Through the opening, they saw the mesa, lit now by the dawn's glow. A platoon of Strike Force soldiers stood ready, with Huck sitting on a litter, attended by Specialist Flannors. When she saw the gateway, Huck waved at them. Hrangar and a handful of the dwarven elders waited with her, dressed for battle once again. Hope surged through Alex. Against all odds, this crazy raid was going to work.

  "Get your people out of here now!" Alex ordered Valentin.

  Fireballs erupted atop the walls, and men screamed.

  "Mages!" Leela yelled. "I can't help while I'm keeping the gateway open."

  "On it," Dominika yelled, rushing up the stairs to the wall.

  The Russians fired again, announcing another attack had started.

  "Move! Move! Move!" Valentin yelled, urging his people forward.

  They hesitated at first, terrified of the magical portal, but to stay was to die, so first one then another stepped through the gateway. Huck and the others urged them on, waving at them to hurry. We just need a few minutes, thought Alex as he reloaded his Tac rifle. We can get the hell out of here and let the bomb finish the queen. She's done for now. She'll finally pay for all those lives.

  Yet, he didn't feel satisfaction. He felt the stirrings of shame.

  Tuatha and her advisors arrived—with Tuatha dressed for war in her new armor—as the second attack failed, beaten back by the manling fire weapons and a surprisingly powerful manling mage atop the keep's walls, although this attack had almost reached the gatehouse, and Kendrassia Half-Heart insisted her mage-wardens had killed many of the defenders, burning them from the walls.

  She surveyed her surroundings and saw at least a couple hundred Storm Guard warriors and five times as many boggarts and a handful of battle trolls. Kendrassia was mustering her forces near the end of the bridge, preparing for a third and final assault. This time, Tuatha would join in the fighting—after the boggarts had softened the enemy's fire. A shiver of excitement coursed through her at the prospect of personal battle, the first time in a hundred cycles. Once, she had been a titan of the battlefield.

  The crèche was safe, thank the Spider Mother. Although the water level had fallen. If the eggs didn't dry out, they'd stay dormant for decades, awaiting fertilization—a process Tuatha ruthlessly controlled. She allowed only enough eggs to be hatched to fill her army's ranks with foot soldiers, keeping alive the boggarts' pathetic hopes that their young would someday be free of her. They'd never be free of her.

  Kendrassia rushed over to kneel before Tuatha, followed by the boggart commander, Wave Prince Za-zugor Wrend.

  "My queen, the honor of your presence fills our hearts with joy," said the commander.

  Wave Prince Za-zugor Wrend bowed deeply. The first son of the boggart king, Za-zugor served Tuatha's pleasure as commander of all boggart warriors—although he was as much a hostage as a commander. Dark blood flowed from a wound in one of his heavily muscled outer arms. "My queen," he said in a sibilant voice, his large, saucerlike black eyes darting about the crèche, "I was trying to tell this one, but we must pull back and bargain. The eggs… we cannot risk the—"

  Tuatha ignored him, and the fool jumped back as she strode forward to assess the situation. Terlissandia stood nearby, blending in with the shadows.

  Tuatha addressed her. "Can you get closer and see what they are doing inside the keep?"

  "Of course, my queen," the mage-scout said.

  "Do so. If the opportunity presents itself, kill whoever leads them."

  Terlissandia bowed, her hand across her chest. "As you command, my queen." A moment later, she cast Shadow-Soul and disappeared.

  But even though the mage-scout was cloaked, Tuatha knew exactly where she was. She could sense her. After centuries of prolonged life, Tuatha had become the finest mage-master who had ever lived. Some fools in her court had dared whisper that her heretic first daughter Tlathia had more skill, but Tuatha knew this wasn't so. Her daughter had been skilled, it was true, but Tuatha would have bested her. No mage had ever stood against her, nor would one ever. And now I am a match for even the wyrms.

  Tuatha directed her attention to Kendrassia. "Send the boggarts but into the water, not over that damned bridge. The manlings need only concentrate their fire weapons to stop us. No, come at them from the crèche, surround them, and when the manlings are engaged, have the mages strike. Then send your Storm Guard warriors over the bridge to finish them."

  "Majesty," objected Za-zugor Wrend, his inner eyelids blinking with fear, "we cannot do this. Even if we are careful, we will damage the eggs. This cannot—"

  Her anger flared, and her arm shot out and gripped the fool by the throat. She lifted him into the air, letting his feet dangle. She extended her other hand before her and cast Drake's-Breath, sending a massive fireball into the crèche, burning scores of the boggart eggs to ash. Steam and pieces of egg floated throug
h the air in the spell's aftermath. "You and your warriors will do as I order, or I will burn all your precious eggs."

  Za-zugor Wrend gasped, choking, his huge eyes bulging even more.

  Still holding him, Tuatha faced Kendrassia. "And you, old warrior, are you ready to die for me?"

  The grizzled veteran snapped to attention, slamming her mailed fist against her cuirass. "With the greatest of joy, my queen, but it shall be the manlings who die."

  Tuatha dropped the boggart prince, who fell gasping to his knees. "And what of you?"

  "I… We obey, great… great queen," the boggart gasped, rubbing his neck, staring at the ground.

  Tuatha smiled, staring out over the dark crèche at her keep. Her excitement grew, sending heat coursing through her veins. "On my command."

  Alex watched as the last Russian civilians, Valentin's wife and son, went through the gateway. Valentin, his family safe, rushed up the stairs to oversee the battle. The third attack was already underway, but this time, hundreds of boggarts had leaped into the waters of the crèche, splashing toward the keep, forcing Valentin to spread his men out over the walls to cover different directions. More fireballs detonated atop the walls, burning the Russian soldiers. Dominika did what she could, suppressing the flames and channeling her spells at the dark-elf mages who hid on the shoreline, but she couldn't create shields like Leela, and while her counterattacks helped, they didn't stop the growing firestorm. Men died. Others were carried into the courtyard with horrific burns.

  Alex saw Kargin and Sharon, both still controlled by grimworms, lying among the wounded Russian soldiers. Looking up, he saw Lee and Martinez on the walls, shooting at the enemy. He bolted up the stairs and slapped both on the shoulder to get their attention. "Get Kargin and Dr. Ireland through the gateway," he ordered. "And the wounded. We're leaving now!"