The Fifth Dawn

by Cory Herndon

  The next day, they set off down the path from Krark-Home for Taj Nar, accompanied by forty of Dwugget’s finest fighters. More would come later. This force was no more than a token, but would serve to convince the leonin army that the goblins would honor their commitment.

  Raksha didn’t know it at the time, but Lyese was already dead.

  TUMBLING DOWN

  “Already dead?” Glissa snapped. “It doesn’t sound like it.”

  “I did not learn what really happened until much later,” Raksha said. “I told you it was confusing.”

  “So when did you figure it out?” Glissa said.

  “Two years after the treaty was signed,” Raksha said. “The day Taj Nar fell.”

  Now they were getting somewhere. “Bruenna refused to talk about that,” the elf girl said. “But what does it have to do with Lyese?”

  “She had become attached to Yshkar,” Raksha said. “Or so I thought. I had little time to give her, and thought she was doing all she could to fit in. Lyese asked to join the forces on the ground, and I could not deny her the right of combat. She’d already spent a year helping me co-ordinate with the goblins as an ambassador, which kept her clear of the fighting for the most part. I’d hoped it would be what you wanted. I still harbored hope that you lived, though no one had heard from you for so long. Bruenna had not given up hope, and spent much time trying to figure out a way into the Lumengrid. She thought there might be knowledge there that could free you.”

  “There was,” Glissa said.

  “Once Lyese took the field, it took only a few weeks for Yshkar to promote her,” Raksha said. “She proved to be an amazing fighter. Yshkar and Lyese soon became inseparable off the field as well. I encouraged this, again in what I thought were your sister’s best interests. I could not watch over her all the time, the responsibility of the Kha did not allow it.”

  “Makes sense,” Glissa said. “You gave her the best protector you could. Your own blood.”

  “Yes, and I had to focus on the ultimate defense of Taj Nar, but my inattention ultimately led to the loss of the home den,” Raksha said. “The war had been raging relentlessly. Yshkar—perhaps under the influence of the false Lyese, perhaps through his own bullheadedness—made a grave tactical error that cost us the last outpost den in the ’void. I ordered him to pull all of our forces back home. He initially resisted, and cost us more men. When he finally called the retreat, the nim followed hot on his heels, and closed in on all sides.”

  “What about the Krark?” Glissa asked.

  “The Krark were under siege themselves. They spared us what fighters they could,” Raksha said. “Dwugget and I assigned them to protect the supply lines running between Taj Nar and Krark-Home. As it turned out, that’s the only reason the leonin survived at all.”

  “The mana bomb,” Glissa said. “There was really a mana bomb, right?”

  “Yes, though I certainly did not set it. There is no honor in such a death, despite the imposter’s convoluted explanations. Yshkar refused to hear my words. Taj Nar could have easily resisted a siege, under the plan we’d formulated,” Raksha said. “But not the enemy within.”

  The Kha held a long-range spotting scope to one eye and looked out over the roiling mass of nim. Even with the magically augmented lens, Raksha could not see where the nim ended and the horizon began. Silver aerophins circled in formation, almost too distant to make out against the golden sun. The constructs looked like scavengers waiting for carrion. The levelers had not been seen, and the scouts he’d sent to track them had not returned.

  With a frustrated growl, he closed up the telescoping eyesight and hooked it onto his belt. Raksha didn’t need the scope to see that the nim would breach the wall soon. It was inevitable. The sheer volume of nim corpses was forming a natural ramp, and every one that died brought the grisly mounds of stinking corpses and chittering vanguard attackers that much closer to the top.

  Raksha heard a reptilian screech, and tossed a wave at the skyhunter that flashed by. The skyhunters were always in the air now, beating back the attempts of clumsy flying nim. The slow-moving undead were no match for the pteron riders in a dogfight, but the tactic was successfully keeping the leonin flyers tied up. Had they been able to spare skyhunters to attack the nim on the ground …

  They could not, so that was a futile train of thought. Raksha crouched and leaped from the lookout tower to the worn path atop the wall and landed silently next to his cousin. The top of the wall was a flurry of leonin warriors and a few goblin soldiers scrambling to ready the siege defenses.

  “What did you see, my Kha?” Yshkar asked. “How long before they’re over the wall?”

  “At the rate they’re piling up, we have no more than a few hours,” Raksha sighed. “We had to see it for ourselves. The scouts are right. There really is no end to them.”

  “What of the construct armies?” Yshkar asked. “Why have we not seen them?”

  “Aerophins circle on the horizon,” Raksha replied. “The levelers—”

  Raksha was cut short by a crash of thunder that shook the wall beneath his feet. He grabbed the edge to steady himself, and caught Yshkar’s arm before his cousin tumbled onto the nim below. The two of them pulled themselves over the lip of the wall to see where the explosion had come from.

  Thick black smoke stung his disbelieving eyes. Three gargantuan six-legged silver constructs had emerged from beneath the infinite carpet of nim that covered the Glimmervoid all around them. Each construct’s central body consisted of a huge globular power source that glowed an eerie blue through the haze. Their “heads” were massive cylinders, one of which was belching a misty blue fog.

  Yshkar gasped, military formality lost in shock. “What in the name of Dakan are those?”

  “Something new,” Raksha snarled. “It appears that only one has fired. We must expect another volley.”

  “My Kha, you should let me take command of the defenses and get to the throne room.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Yshkar,” Raksha said. “You’ve been listening to that elf girl too much. Our place is here with you. If we are to die we shall do it as the Kha, and our enemies shall regret the day they—”

  Another cannon-construct fired at that moment, sending a house-sized ball of blazing blue energy into the wall below them. Before Raksha could react, a whole section of Taj Nar crumbled beneath his feet and gave way.

  “My Kha!” Yshkar bellowed.

  Raksha plummeted into the pit that had just opened beneath him.

  The Kha barely heard his cousin. He dropped through floor after floor as an entire section of Taj Nar gave way, but fortunately he collided with several outcroppings on the way down that slowed his fall. Raksha landed with a crack of broken armor on a rough metal floor, and after a few seconds managed to scramble to cover beneath a stable block of rubble that had once formed part of the lookout tower upon which he’d recently stood.

  The cave in continued for almost a minute, forcing Raksha to cover his ears as several tons of metal crashed down all around him. Only the overhanging block he’d chosen as cover kept the leonin from being crushed as the rain of debris poured in.

  Raksha wiped iron dust from his eyes and took stock. He’d fallen all the way to a basement sublevel, which until recently served as the royal army but had been converted to temporary barracks only a week before. The main wall still stood, down here at least, and he could see sky far above. Light streamed into the dusty air above through two large holes that had been blasted through its side, but otherwise the main exterior wall had held almost all the way to top. The interior of Taj Nar was less well protected, and too many supports had been destroyed to hold up the weight where Raksha had been standing. He was extremely lucky.

  Damnably lucky, for he feared he was about to see the end of his people. If Taj Nar fell, where else could they go? Krark-Home?

  Raksha crawled out from his refuge and searched vainly for some path through the wreckage, a way to get out of this ho
le. As the haze cleared, the outlines of over a dozen leonin bodies littered the ground all around him, and he offered a bitter prayer for the dead.

  From the corner of his eye, the leonin spotted movement in the rubble.

  “Raksha!” Lyese called. “My leg’s pinned. Can you help me?”

  “Don’t move!” he shouted. “We’re on our way!” Maybe he hadn’t been able to save Glissa from Memnarch. Maybe this really was the end of Taj Nar. But as long as he lived, so would Glissa’s sister—he owed his lost friend that much. With as much caution as Raksha could spare, he navigated the maze of debris and death to the elf girl’s side.

  Lyese’s leg was stuck beneath a rectangular chunk of inner wall and tangled in a mess of support cables. The elf girl sat upright, her back pressed up against a round hunk of debris that looked like something that might have been left over from the old armory. Her face bore a few minor cuts, but Lyese appeared more or less unharmed. Raksha dropped to one knee to get a closer look at her leg.

  “It does not appear broken. Are you bleeding?” Raksha asked.

  “I don’t think so,” the elf girl gasped. “I think it’s … ow … I think it’s just stuck. If you could pull on it—gently—I think I might be able to wriggle free.”

  “Of course,” Raksha said. He dropped onto his belly, draping himself uncomfortably across the elf girl’s body, and reached in to take hold of Lyese’s leg. “Let us know when you’re ready, and we will pull together.”

  “Ready,” Lyese said, and brought the knee of her free leg up into Raksha’s belly.

  He gasped as the air left his lungs and his ribs cracked. The leonin brought himself up to all fours with an agonizing effort and fought back his gorge.

  “What in the name of—?” Raksha coughed.

  Lyese easily slipped her leg free of the cabling and leaped to her feet. She followed with a sharp-toed boot to Raksha’s gut. He spat up silvery red blood and flopped onto his side, clutching his belly, and was unable to avoid yet another kick that caught him behind the ear. The sky above spun lazily, and the leonin fought the urge to pass out.

  “Raksha, Raksha, Raksha …” Lyese said, driving a boot into his side with each repitition. “You’re not supposed to be here. You were supposed to die up there, with Yshkar. You really should have done that.”

  “What are you talking about?” Raksha croaked. “What are you doing?”

  “My job, your Kha-ness,” Lyese replied. Keeping one eye on the leonin, she backed over to the metal ball she’d been leaning against when she was “trapped” and crouched over the strange object, which Raksha could now see bore ancient carvings that looked vedalken. Two blue crystals mounted on top of the artifact began to glow and a low hum struck the leonin’s sensitive ears. “Sorry you had to find me,” the elf added. “You’re not going to be as easy to cow as that fool Dwugget, or as easy to seduce as your idiot cousin. And you know what that means, my Kha. I get to kill you personally.”

  “Lyese, why?” Raksha whispered. “Glissa would—”

  Lyese laughed, a cold, tinny sound unlike anything Raksha had ever heard. When next she spoke, her voice changed. The tones of the young elf girl he knew were underlaid with a low, masculine baritone that filled the air all around the leonin’s head.

  “Who are you?” Raksha whispered.

  “Ah, he figured it out,” the Lyese-thing sneered, and gave him another kick. “You should have gone along with the Vulshok, cat-man. You’d still have your elf girl, and your precious palace would still be in one piece. Of course, you would still be dead, but what is the life of a Kha compared to those of his subjects?” The false Lyese tapped out a pattern on the glowing artifact and stood, apparently satisfied.

  “Release the girl,” Raksha coughed. “Or I will kill you whoever you look like.”

  “Idiot. Leonin, the girl is right here. She’s terrified, let me tell you. I’m going to enjoy consuming her mind when I move on.”

  “Move on?” Raksha asked.

  “Tell me, did I squeeze you too hard, my Kha?” the elf said as she brought her fists together. “You can’t imagine how tricky it is to use only enough strength when you’re an ogre.”

  “Ogre?” Raksha managed. He was already recovering, but tried to hide it. If Lyese got close enough, he might be able to surprise her.

  “Gave you too much credit, I see,” Lyese said. “I’ll make it easier for you. Here’s a riddle. What do a Vulshok priest, an ogre, and an elf girl have in common?”

  “Sounds like a bad goblin joke,” Raksha said.

  “You are the opposite of fun,” Lyese said. “Vektro, at your service.” The elf strolled around the glowing artifact, which now hummed louder than before. When she reached the leonin, she took a deep bow with exaggerated flourish.

  “Alderok Vektro?” Raksha said. “Alderok Vektro is dead.”

  “Just Vektro, if you please,” the thing that wore Lyese’s body said. Vektro brought elf girl’s visage mere inches from Raksha’s and added, “The human Alderok is nothing but a smear on the path now.”

  Raksha brough a gauntleted fist crashing into the imposter’s borrowed face, knocking Vektro backward. The Kha rolled forward onto his feet and spun into a crouch, faced the imposter, and roared. “I am Raksha Golden Cub, Kha of Taj Nar. I have no need of your services.”

  The imposter screamed and charged the leonin Kha. Raksha had lost his sword, but no leonin was ever defenseless as long as he had his claws. He blocked Vektro’s first punch with his palm and drove a fist into the imposter’s gut. Vektro doubled over with a cough, and the leonin followed through with a knee to the face that knocked the imposter backward, stunned.

  “Whatever you are, Vektro, it’s good to see you can take a beating no matter what you look like,” Raksha snarled. “Now get out of that body before we rip its head off. We really don’t want to do that.”

  “No deal, Kha,” the imposter coughed. “I’ve been waiting a long, long time for a body all my own, and now that I’ve got it I’m not leaving. The master says this one is mine to keep. And I intend to.”

  Raksha launched himself into a forward roll and tackled Vektro around the legs, bringing the ersatz elf to the hard metal floor of the old armory with a crash. He followed with a fist to the jaw and pinned Vektro’s head back with one elbow as he threw himself across the elf girl’s stolen body. “That device,” Raksha said. He nodded to the glowing ball of humming silver. “It is a weapon?”

  Vektro smiled, and looked pointedly over Raksha’s shoulder. All traces of the strange Vektro-voice gone, Lyese screamed. “Yshkar! He’s gone mad! That artifact is going to destroy Taj Nar. We’ve got to get out!”

  Raksha didn’t see Yshkar’s blow coming until it was too late. He was thrown back and struck his head hard enough to make the world spin. Yshkar crouched over him and placed a hand against Raksha’s forehead, then muttered a standard spell used by the leonin on those rare occasions it paid to take live prisoners in war. Raksha’s muscles went slack, and without ceremony Yshkar slung the Kha over his shoulder. Raksha would be paralyzed below the neck for hours.

  “What is that?” Yshkar said, jabbing a claw at the whining silver globe.

  “It’s a mana bomb, and he said it’s going to go off any minute,” Lyese said. “Yshkar, he’s betrayed us all. You have to leave him, or we won’t have time to save the rest of your people.” She leaned in closer and whispered loud enough for Raksha to hear, “Our people.”

  “Most have already evacuated. I gave the order after that last blast,” Yshkar said.

  “Good,” Raksha mumbled deliriously.

  Lyese was already heading toward the cable ladder Yshkar had used to get down to the basement level. Within seconds the elf girl—and the being that controlled her—scrambled up the ladder and away from the glowing, whining bomb.

  “Damn,” Yshkar growled, and followed. “Raksha, I will see you dead for this. But not today.” He followed Lyese up the ladder, and within minutes Yshkar and the e
lf girl were well clear of Taj Nar.

  Yshkar dropped Raksha to the ground without ceremony and propped the paralyzed leonin against a pile of leonin bodies that reeked of blood and rot. “Yshkar,” the Kha croaked. “She is not—”

  Before Raksha could finish, Taj Nar disappeared in a blinding flash of blue and white. A half second later, the deafening thunder of the mana bomb explosion reached his ears and blasted the world into silence. Unable even to shield his eyes, Raksha was forced to watch as his home, his kingdom, and the future of his people were laid low under a rapidly expanding cloud of destruction.

  “You saw it go up,” Glissa said. Something tickled her cheek, and her hand came away covered with tears she hadn’t noticed until now.

  “I couldn’t look away,” Raksha said. “Though my soul very nearly died that day.”

  “I think I can figure out what happened next from what they told me,” Glissa interrupted. “Vektro accused you, and all Yshkar could see was you trying to kill the woman he loved. It sounds like she would have killed everyone if you hadn’t stopped her.”

  “It was Yshkar’s evacuation order that saved everyone,” Raksha said. “My discovery only saved the imposter.”

  “But what was Vektro? How can I get Lyese back?” Glissa’s eyes flashed with fury. “You told me she was dead, but this is worse. A lot worse. She’s still in there, Raksha. I know it.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Raksha said with a sigh. The leonin placed a firm paw on her shoulder. “He will not leave her until she is mortally wounded. We would have to kill her to save her.”

  “I can’t accept that,” Glissa said. “We have to figure out what he is, and how to get him out. I want my sister back, Raksha.”