by West, Shay
“They smell the kill,” Sloan said quietly.
“Do we need to post watch?” Voilor asked. He was crouched down, face a stony mask. He wished this planet had weapons like those that existed on Volgon. He felt strangely vulnerable in his fragile body. The skin of the Earthmen broke too easily.
Forka shook his head. “They will not come close to the fire. As long as we keep it going throughout the night, they will leave us alone.” He thought it amusing that these big, tough warriors were afraid of the wolves. They are on a strange world. It is natural they are afraid.
“We should try to sleep. We don't know how far we will have to track the Jhinn.” Robert hoped the night would pass quickly. Every time he closed his eyes the faces of the Jhinn flashed in his mind, and it tore at his heart.
The group slept close together since there were not enough blankets to go around. Keera made a face as she and Gwen snuggled under a charred bit of blanket. “Ugh! I am wondering if being cold is preferable to this smell.”
Gwen giggled. “It really does stink doesn't it?”
“Hey! Move over and make some room for me.” Kaelin hopped up and down as Gwen hurriedly threw the blanket off. Her teeth chattered as she giggled, snuggling between Gwen and Keera. Their muffled laughter and whispering continued until Saemus and Jon, who were lying nearby, reminded them that they would need to be fully alert in too short a time, ready to fight the enemy of the Earthmen. The girls apologized, but they were incapable of holding in their snorts and small outbursts.
Exhaustion finally accomplished what scolding could not, and soon the area was silent save for the crackling and snapping of the fire. Forka was wide awake, unable to sleep. His mind was much too busy. He looked at No Name as she lay on her side, breathing the deep breaths of slumber. His heart swelled with love for the mare, and he was annoyed to find his eyes tearing up again. I didn't cry this much over my Chosen dying. As the night wore on, Forka forced his mind to focus on the upcoming task: the attempted rescue of the Jhinn from the clutches of the enemy.
ASTRA
THE NOMAD MADE HIS WAY through the Blasted Lands. The slight breeze ruffled his light-colored robes, stained brown by many years of sweat. The breeze sweeping across the dry landscape was not welcome; it only served to suck precious moisture from his body. He tightened the cloth wrapped around his face and plodded on, holding the rope leading to his camel. The bare breath of wind could be a precursor to a violent windstorm. Animals were often the first to sense an impending storm and would bolt in fear. The man could not afford to lose his only means of transporting goods to the oases.
He stopped suddenly. The camel began to tug on the rope, although to the man it felt as though the animal was about to tear his arm from the socket. The frightened man held onto the rope and tried to force the animal to follow him. The camel snorted and bellowed, digging in its wide, flat feet, impeding any forward motion.
The ground began to shake. Dear Spirits, what is happening? The camel shook its head violently, ripping the rope from the man's grip. He chased the scared animal for a short time, but gave up when it easily outdistanced him. Terror gripped his heart as he turned around and glimpsed what was coming over the blood-red sandstone hills.
Something was coming toward him, something larger than anything the man had ever seen. As the things got closer, the ground shuddered so violently the man lost his footing. He backpedaled, trying to get as far away from the looming threat as he could.
As the Mekans drew closer, their tough metal skins scraped the red sandstone rock formations rising from the sun-baked ground, causing huge boulders to crash to the ground. The engines stirred up choking clouds of dust and debris. The sound was deafening.
The man screamed in agony as his eardrums ruptured. He raised his face, blood dripping from his ruined ears, choking and gagging on the thick dust.
The nomad had time to send up one last prayer to the good Spirits, asking that they look after his wife and children, before being crushed by the metal leg of the lead Mekan.
EARTH
--THE ANIMAL INDICATES we are getting closer.
Forka nodded absently to Number 1. He did not need No Name to lead them in the right direction. The tracks were easy to follow. It was obvious to anyone with even the slightest tracking skill that the tracks were old. To Forka it looked as though the Horde had simply driven the Jhinn through the forest with little regard for whether or not anyone would follow.
“General, we need to send someone ahead. I have a bad feeling about this.” Robert stood with his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes showed his worry.
“You really shouldn't call me that, you know. I am simply Forka. General Ted Smith is no longer needed.” Forka felt a little sad. He had liked the General and had liked living here on this planet, protecting the Jhinn. I didn't do my job well enough.
“You will always be the General to us,” Robert said, grinning slightly.
The two men went on alone. After traveling for a few miles in the growing heat of the day, they could smell the Horde camp. They wrinkled their noses as they caught a whiff of a nauseating mixture of smells: horses, latrines, cooking food, spoiled food, wood smoke, and underneath that, the sickeningly sweet stench of death.
“Only a large group of people would stink that badly.” Robert's voice was barely louder than the breeze bringing the smells of the camp.
Forka nodded grimly. He had come to the same conclusion. The idea of being able to rescue the Jhinn seemed impossible. You can't give up. They need you.
The men topped a rise, taking care to stay in the shadows of the dense pine trees. The Horde camp was sprawled in the small valley, with its edges tucked among the trees.
“Why would Samson have part of the camp in the trees?” Forka asked. There was something more to the camp, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.
“The camp is much larger than I remember.” Robert's voice sounded strained.
“If they absorbed all of the Jhinn, that might explain it,” Forka said, unwilling to believe what his own eyes were seeing. “We need to move closer.”
They crept forward, taking special care to keep their footfalls as quiet as possible. Every time Forka heard the snap of a twig or the crackling of the pine needles underfoot, he cringed, certain a Horde sentry would come busting through the dark timber, ready to do battle.
Why aren't there sentries?
Robert turned to Forka as though he had heard Forka's silent thought. “Something is strange. I am afraid of what we might find.”
“Let's take it nice and slow.” Forka took the lead. As they moved closer to the camp, they could hear the neighing of horses, the raucous laughter of the men, the sharp barking of mastiffs, the shrill screams of the women and children. It took all of Forka's strength of will to keep from running into the camp and slitting the throats of any Hordesmen he came across. His blood roared in his ears, and his muscles tensed.
The two men peered through a stand of oak brush. The camp looked even larger from this vantage point. Small tents were haphazardly placed among the larger ones belonging to the higher ups in the camp. The horse lines were nonexistent; instead, the horses were tied to whatever tree or block of wood was close at hand. The supply wagons, which were usually placed on the perimeter, were scattered among the tents.
“Looks like Samson has let his camp go wild.”
Forka nodded. “There is still something at odds. I can't quite put my finger on it.”
The sun reached its zenith while the men watched the camp. The few guards they could see appeared to be more interested in the women nearby than in actually keeping watch over the camp. Forka snorted. The greenest boy of the Jhinn could have walked right into the Horde camp and these sorry excuses for guards wouldn't have noticed.
They are not afraid. Forka's hair stood on end. He remembered the rescue of Sloan. Samson's camp had been well-fortified, making a rescue impossible. Good thing we didn't need to try. Each time the Protectors had
encountered the Horde in their camps, they had been forced to meet an enemy as crafty and thoughtful as themselves. Samson knew how to protect his people as well as how to use them to attack and steal from the Jhinn. This was the first time Forka could recall seeing Samson let his guard down.
That will be his undoing. “We should get back to the oth—” Forka's words died as his throat tightened.
Robert turned, wondering why his General had stopped speaking. His face lost all color. “God help us.”
The truth of what had been bothering Forka was laid out in the valley below. He was angry that it had taken so long to see what was right before his eyes: the two different types of tents, the multitude of horses, many more than what the Jhinn had ever had, the sheer size of the camp, and the carelessness with which it had been set up. It wasn't until Forka had caught sight of the two leaders that he felt the truth hit him like a punch to the gut.
The Cowboys and the Horde had joined forces.
EARTH
“ARE YOU CERTAIN?” Sloan's heart dropped at the news.
“Yes. We saw Samson and Wild Bill chatting together like they were old friends.” Forka's anger was plain to hear.
“Are the Jhinn lost?” Brad asked, afraid to hear the answer.
“Of course they aren't lost!” Forka snapped. “In fact, the enemy's overconfidence will help us.” Forka told the others about the condition of the camp. Those from Volgon and Earth nodded their heads, while those from Astra looked confused.
“How can their camp being in disarray help us? That won't lessen the number of men they have,” Jon said.
“If the enemy is not prepared for a fight, and if they are in a state of confusion, it will only make our job easier,” Moylir said.
“We can set fire to the wagons, spook the horses, surround their camp. They have no guards to speak of so we should be able to sneak in close,” Brad explained. He was trying to focus on the coming fight, but he found himself distracted by the sweet scent of the girl standing next to him. Her face was drawn into a frown of confusion, a look that Brad found irresistible. When she chewed her full lips, he wanted to take them between his own teeth. He shook his head, realizing he had just missed part of the conversation.
“We will attack during the day. The people of the Jhinn need to be able to see Brad and Sloan if they are to follow them to safety.” Forka looked pointedly to Brad, fully aware of the man's inability to focus when the Astran girl was close.
The rest of the day was spent going over the details of the plan. Feeror wished that Seelyr was still with them. She would have been able to draw the enemy camp in exquisite detail, making it easier to plan a rescue. Too much time was spent on arguing over whether a mark in the dirt was a wagon, or a horse, or something else altogether. Feeror was quite irritated at the fussing and arguing. All he wanted to do was hit something.
“If you are agitated, why don't you go hunt something for dinner?” Gerok suggested to his Chosen.
Feeror nodded gratefully. All he needed to do was kill the enemy. That was something he could do in his sleep. He and Voilor jogged into the forest, leaving the others to their scratching in the dirt. By the time they returned, the group had finalized the rescue plan.
Kaelin, Keera, and Gwen each took a sharp knife to the doe the Volgons brought back. They wanted to keep busy and keep their minds off the impending rescue. Their jobs were of the utmost importance. If they let the invisibility shield down too soon or too late, many good people would die.
“I wish we didn't have to do this,” Kaelin whispered. She just wanted to go home. Although that would mean not being able to see Brad every day. Her feelings about the man confused her. He was not at all what she pictured for her future husband. He was neither rich nor particularly handsome. And yet when he was near, her heart fluttered and she couldn't catch her breath. It was distracting.
And wonderful.
“Thinking about a certain Earth man?” Gwen teased. She had not been blind to the feelings that were growing between the pair.
“No more than you were thinking of a tall, muscular, handsome Volgon warrior,” Kaelin said primly.
Gwen blushed as Keera burst out laughing. “You are one to laugh! The way you moon over the quiet one.”
“He's interesting.” Keera was proud of herself. She managed to keep from blushing like the other two girls.
“Interesting?” Kaelin raised an eyebrow.
“Well, yes. There is something about him….” Keera trailed off.
Kaelin continued to saw at the meat. The knives were not very sharp and no one had been able to find a good whetstone in the burned-out village. “Why waste time with all this talk? Nothing can come of it anyway.” Kaelin's voice was filled with sadness.
“Anything is possible. If two people are meant to be together, they will figure out a way.” Keera glanced at Sloan and turned away quickly when her eyes met his. She also worried about what the future was going to bring. The Mekans were coming, and with so many of the Chosen dead, there was little hope for survival.
No one will survive.
Keera wondered if the place where the Spirits dwelled was shared with all life. She had grown up knowing that when she died, she would be reunited with all those who had gone before. Astrans did not know of the existence of other worlds and other life. Keera had no knowledge to draw upon to help her deal with the big question: if they all died, would she find Sloan waiting with the Spirits? The thought of there being separate places where those from other worlds would dwell in the afterlife was too strange to imagine.
“If you girls are done gossiping, the rest of us are starving,” Saemus said as he and Jon came walking up.
“We weren't gossiping! We were just talking,” Kaelin retorted.
“Whatever you were doing, we are hungry.” Jon rolled his eyes. He grabbed a large flat piece of wood and began to pile it with the freshly cut meat.
“Well, excuse us for having a conversation!” Keera huffed and got to her feet, grumbling under her breath. She continued her tirade all the way to the fire.
Gwen followed her friends, wishing for the hundredth time that she could move faster and more gracefully. She was tired of always being last. It was tempting to use her power to levitate. At least then she could keep up with her long-legged friends.
Forka was at the fire going over the details of the plan one last time. Everything depended on precise timing. The Kromins would give the signal to begin the attack. They seemed completely unfazed by their crucial role. They sat by the fire, nibbling on steak, faces blank, eyes expressionless.
Keera glared at the telepaths. What I wouldn't give for a little of that ability.
* * *
“Remember, wait for the signal.” Forka whispered, ice blue eyes watching the movement of the Horde camp. He was relieved to find it in the same disorganized state as the day before. He couldn't see the others and sent up a prayer that they would be in place in time. He checked the sun for the hundredth time and snarled in frustration to find that it had barely moved since the last time he had checked.
“They will be in place.” Robert stood next to Forka, arms crossed over his chest, seemingly at ease.
“Everything depends on it.” Forka checked the sun again and nearly ground his teeth.
“Just because you check the sun every five minutes doesn't mean it will move any faster.” Robert had to bite his cheek to keep from laughing.
“I am well aware of that,” Forka snapped. He hated that his second-in-command could read him so easily. You are just angry and anxious, old man. “Are we sure the telepaths know their duty? They are so damned hard to read.”
--We will give the signal when the others are in place.
Forka did not know which telepath communicated. He felt a little guilt about doubting their ability to do what was needed. It had been decided that the Kromins would remain shielded. If one of them were killed before they completed their task, there would be no way to get word to the Ch
osen on the far side of the camp and therefore no way to coordinate the attack. The sheer size of the camp had forced the Earth Chosen to think beyond what they would have normally done. They had been able to use the special talents of the other Chosen to formulate a plan that had some small chance of succeeding.
But it would only succeed if everyone was in their appointed places at precisely the right time and if the Kromins gave the signal at the right moment. Forka hated having so much of the plan out of his control. He gritted his teeth and tried to force his body to remain still and calm.
--They are ready.
That was what Forka had been waiting for. Forka looked to Gwen, and she nodded slowly. Her shaky arm came up, and the tiny girl took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Forka gasped involuntarily as everyone on the hill disappeared. He did not think he would ever get used to that.
Forka resisted the urge to call out and reassure himself that the others were close by. Gwen had also used the incredible power of the Astrans to muffle their footsteps. They needed to be in among the enemy without them being aware of anyone sneaking about.
As they moved toward the camp, Forka snorted in derision. He needn't have worried about making noise. The men and women of the enemy camp made enough noise to cover any the Chosen might inadvertently make. Moving among the tents and drunken people kept them on edge. They had to be quick on their feet in order to avoid someone stumbling into them. Even though the Chosen and their Guardians were invisible, they were still there physically, and they couldn't afford someone sounding an alarm. Forka approached a large group of horses that were not hobbled and simply stood chewing tender grass.
“Keep quiet you, stupid animals. Or you might find yourselves in the stewpot.” A drunken man standing nearby emptied his bladder, barely able to stand. He spat in the direction of the agitated horses. He mumbled incoherently and ran a hand through his greasy dark hair.