Crystal Sorcerers

by William R. Forstchen

  "Then what the hell was she up to?"

  "With the power of the three Crystals of Fire, and the portal crystal, she could break the barriers the gods have set about this world to keep Gorgon out. It looks like the entire war was a feint to draw the three most powerful gods away from the true threat. Patrice is going to open a portal and let Gorgon in. If she succeeds, he'll have his armies in Haven, perhaps even take Asmara and the Heart Crystal before Jartan can get back."

  "Jesus Christ," Kochanski whispered. "If only we had known before Patrice got to us."

  "Sara's trip wasn't all a waste, though," Mark said quietly. "At least now we know how bad things are. Patrice will probably try to cut us off," he went on. "We'll take enough time to eat, but exhausted or not, we've got to try and catch her, or get back to Asmara and organize an attack before she opens the gate into hell."

  Chapter 13

  "Jesus, Captain, I think it's burning," Kochanski called, coming up to fly by Mark's side.

  Anxious, Mark tried to focus his attention through the thick overcast; he could sense the image of the first floating island off the coast, but beyond that--nothing.

  There was nothing on the comm link crystals, either, and since leaving the mainland, the group had maintained a strict communications blackout to help avoid detection.

  "He's right," Leti shouted, swinging up beside Mark and Ikawa. "They're in trouble."

  "Let's get below these damn clouds. Maybe we'll see something."

  Mark weighed the decision. Flying through the thick overcast hid their movement, since it was still unknown if Patrice had support, yet he didn't want to drop down on the floating island without knowing what was going on.

  Mark looked over his shoulder. He could barely see Saito, who was directly behind him, and the rest of the group was strung out beyond in the clouds with Sara bringing up the rear.

  At least he had convinced the druid and Deidre to rest overnight in Portus. Considering the grueling punishment of this flight, the old man would have been in the ocean by now.

  "All right," Mark called, "let's dip out of the clouds and take a quick look. If we're heavily outnumbered, we'll pull back up."

  Slowing he started to bleed off altitude, the rest of the group following suit. The thick overcast held for long minutes, until he felt as if they'd fly right into the ocean before they'd drop out of the storm.

  Slowly, the greyness broadened out, there was a faint glimpse of dark rolling seas, then clouds again, then more sea, a wisp of tangled grey, and they were clear.

  "Goddamn it," Mark groaned.

  The horizon ahead was awash with flames, reflecting luridly against the low overcast.

  "That bitch destroyed the city," Leti screamed in rage.

  Mark drew his thoughts forward, scanning the sky for any movement of flyers. It was empty.

  "I'm not picking up any combat," Kraut shouted, "just the city in flames."

  "Standard battle approach," Mark called, using his communications crystal. "Remember, they have wall crystals. I'm calling in our arrival so they know we're friendly, but look out anyhow; they might be trigger-happy."

  Mark tried repeatedly to raise the island's command center but was greeted by silence. As the group winged closer, to his horror he could see why. The entire core of the city was a sea of flames. The drawbridges to the five bastion points were up, but two of them were in flames as well. Several miles out, they passed over a sinking ship with dozens of survivors clinging to its sides.

  "Shouldn't we help them?" Shigeru cried.

  "Not yet. It could still be a trap, and we've got to find out how bad the city is first. We'll send somebody back later."

  Drawing closer, Mark was sickened by the horror of what he was seeing. Scores of boats dotted the water, dozens of them overturned, flame-scorched and sinking. Hundreds of people clung to wreckage, crying for help, raising their hands to the group which now passed overhead. An explosion shook the air, and ever so slowly the vast center core of the city started to settle down, like a wounded beast sinking into the sea.

  Steam shot heavenward, filling the sky with a dirty mist that blended in with the rolling clouds of black smoke.

  The city kept settling farther into the sea, and then, ever so slowly, the distant edge rose into the air.

  "She's going down!" Leti cried.

  Horrified, Mark watched as ant-sized people leaped into the sea, while others, caught in the flaming streets and collapsing buildings, screamed in terror.

  Higher and higher the city rose, while the eastern end started to slide downward.

  Mark cursed with impotent rage as the vast structure seemed to hover for a final moment before starting its long slide to the ocean floor. Huge sections broke away, crushing those unfortunate enough to be floundering in the dark waters below. Explosions rent the air as buildings crashed into each other. There was a last convulsive roar, and then, as if a hand had swept over the ocean, the fires went out. The only light in the wreath of smoke came from the now feeble-looking torches of the two burning bastions.

  Flying with maddening speed, Mark winged into one of the three surviving bastions. Screams of panic cut the air at his approach, and a shower of arrows rose to greet him. Pulling up, he hovered in the air, the rest of his comrades forming around him.

  "We're friends," Mark roared. "Stop shooting, we're friends!"

  "Stop shooting," came a distant voice from below. "It's the offworlders."

  Mark waited for a moment, then slowly began to lower himself, keeping his shield at full strength. There was the slim possibility that it could still be a trap--or the other chance, equally dangerous, that someone might have a red crystal affixed to an arrow, which, if it hit his shielding, would destroy him in a fiery detonation.

  Several arrows still came up, which Mark and the others easily dodged. Cautiously, they settled atop one of the fighting towers to be greeted by a motley assortment of grim-faced fishermen with bows, women, children, and a single soldier.

  "Thank the gods you're here," the soldier cried, trying to hold back tears of rage.

  "What happened?" Leti asked, even as she bent over to help a badly burned woman who laid on the bastion floor in numbed shock.

  "We picked up a brief warning from the next city westward that they were under attack by a dozen sorcerers," the soldier said quietly, his voice edged with shock. "That was it; we heard nothing more. Oplin and Uyl, our two sorcerers, called the alarm. Before we were even half ready they came in low from the south, undetected."

  "We didn't stand a chance," a woman cried angrily. "There were thirty of them, and a terrible one that suddenly appeared from the east shot bolts like the sun itself."

  "Patrice." Leti whispered the name like a curse.

  "They knew our weak points," the soldier continued, "went under the city, hitting the pontoons, knocking out the fire pumps. Oplin and Uyl were dead in the first minute, fighting with our wall crystal. They got two of them, at least, but once they were dead, we were defenseless. My comrades fought for the city; I was sent out here to organize the defense of this bastion."

  "I can't believe I'm the only one left."

  "We begged for quarter," the woman shrieked. "We begged them to let us at least go to the boats, but that woman--that woman told her followers to keep firing. Even some of them were sickened by the slaughter and drew back. I heard her scream that she wanted everything sunk before the offworlders got here."

  "She wanted to deny us quick access back," Leti said, her voice cracking with rage. "Wipe out two jump points and we'd have to detour far to the north, adding days to our return."

  "If you hadn't been coming here, this never would have happened. My husband wouldn't be dead!" The woman leaped at Mark, tearing at him, pounding him with her fists.

  Mark didn't resist but let her vent her rage. Suddenly the woman dissolved into tears, and tenderly he put his arms around her.

  His visage dark, Mark looked at Leti. "We stay here the night to help
these people."

  Her thoughts drifted into his mind.

  "Far worse will happen to them if we don't get back. If Gorgon breaks through, all Haven might look like this. Patrice did this to cut us off. She must have boats positioned back to the southward island chain, and then she'll leap westward. We've got to keep moving; maybe the next island out is still intact."

  "Damn it, Leti, they need our help now! The next island might be entirely gone, and we'll drop into the sea from exhaustion."

  The demigod hesitated. "An hour to help, then no matter what we rest for awhile and push on. I can't go it alone. Patrice could be waiting with her band, I need your escort. We'll have to take the chance that part of the island, or some boats, survived."

  Mark struggled for control as she continued, "Do you want me to tell these people that by helping to save them, the entire world might become a nightmare? Do you want me to force them to make that choice?"

  "Damn you," Mark hissed out loud. Ikawa, whom Leti had allowed to hear what she was thinking, looked in Mark's direction. From the anguished look in his friend's eyes, Mark could see that Ikawa had been arguing the same point.

  The woman in his arms, still sobbing, was pulled free by several fishermen and led away.

  "Who's in charge here?" Leti asked quietly.

  "I guess I am," the lone soldier said wearily.

  "We'll rescue who we can. I'll try to heal as many as possible over the next hour, then we need a place to rest before we leave."

  "What?" the soldier roared. "You're going to leave us? We need your help now."

  Mark was startled to see tears forming in Leti's eyes.

  "I can't tell you why," she said softly. "Please believe me, we wish we could do more."

  "Here we get caught in your sorcery wars, we pay the price, and then you leave." The soldier's voice was bitter with rage.

  "We're wasting time," Leti said. "Bring your most injured people to me. Mark, Ikawa, start pulling people out of the water."

  The group leaped into the air. Spreading out over the darkness, they scanned low over the waves for victims.

  Mark could see a number of ladultas coursing back and forth, calling excitedly, pushing exhausted and limp forms toward the bastions. Working in teams, the offworlders would dip down, scoop a person up, and carry him or her in. Yet Mark felt frustrated, sensing that hundreds of people were in the water, and in the short time available only a handful would be saved.

  "It's time," Leti suddenly called over the comm links, her command flooded out with shouts of protest.

  Mark looked over at Ikawa, who had been working with him, and could see the anger and resignation in his eyes.

  "In a moment!" he called, and keyed into the Americans' commlink, while Ikawa did the same with his men.

  "This is a direct order," Mark whispered sadly. "We've got to go in now and rest before pushing on."

  "Bullshit, Captain," Walker replied.

  "Goddamn it, I feel the same way," Mark said wearily. "You know why we've got to go. We might save hundreds here, but uncounted thousands of others might die if we delay. God help us all. I'm asking you as my comrades to go back in now."

  There was a moment of silence.

  "You heard him," Walker finally whispered. "Let's go in."

  Mark turned and started back, and then, on an impulse, he dived into the sea.

  "Ludalta, pack leader."

  He could hear a rippling cry cut through the water as he kept repeating himself.

  In the darkness he sensed a form coming up which suddenly brushed alongside him.

  "I Omna. Airbreather, fire maker?"

  "Yes," Mark thought, "friend of Tulana."

  "What happen?" the ladulta asked anxiously. "Airbreather city burn, many dead, many hurt, crying for help. Why?"

  "Enemies of Tulana do this, make war on Tulana."

  "We see her in air, not friend of ladulta to do this. She kill two of us. Never in memory airbreathers hurt ladulta."

  Mark could sense the confusion and rage in Omna's thoughts.

  "Other herds to south of floating cities far away. Are there ladulta there?"

  "Cousins distant herds," Omna replied. "Why ask?"

  "War come between airbreathers," Mark responded.

  "All ladulta friends, ocean big enough for all. Why not same for airbreathers?"

  Mark was unable to reply.

  "Do you know Sul?" he finally asked.

  "Sul mate kin, we hunt Cresus together, you hunt Naga with him?"

  "Yes, we hunted together."

  "I know of you, then."

  "Tell him I wish him well and always his friend," Mark replied. "Firemakers must leave now to fight evil woman who hurt your kin. We must fly to next island west."

  "No good," Omna replied, "totally destroyed. It was smallest of floating cities, less than thousand airbreathers there, it sink."

  "How do you know that?"

  "Ladulta call to each other through water, pass word across sea. Calls reach back and forth ten times quicker than you fly."

  What are we going to do? Mark thought to himself.

  "You sound sad, afraid," Omna whispered.

  "We must go to western lands. Without island we might not be able to fly."

  "I call to friends west see what can be done. You fly, we will help you. Ladulta wait for you there."

  "Thank you, my friend. I'm leaving now. Please try to save as many as you can."

  "That we already wish to do," Omna said. "Others call, have found more. Farewell."

  Omna slipped away and Mark rose back into the air. Back at the darkened bastion, he settled to the ground and looked around at his grim-faced comrades.

  "Let's try to get some rest. We push on in three hours."

  The men looked at him darkly, knowing he was right but unable to respond.

  Sleep was impossible. The night air was rent with a cacophony of curses, screams, and maddening confusion so that Mark felt as if his soul was being torn out of his body. Huddled together in a room, the men tossed back and forth, more than one stepping outside with the excuse that he was going to relieve himself only to return a half hour later soaking wet.

  "Even if the next island out's intact," Ikawa finally whispered, coming to sit by Mark's side, "I think we'll be too damned exhausted to fly to it."

  "It's been sunk," Mark said grimly.

  "Where did you hear that?"

  "The ladulta told me, but they said they'll help us when we get there."

  For the first time since arriving, Mark saw Ikawa smile.

  "We'll just have to trust them, I guess."

  "Let's hope so."

  "Leti's exhausted herself with healing," Ikawa sighed. "She'll be weaker than we are."

  "We've got to keep moving."

  "I know that, damn it," Ikawa replied.

  "Come on, it's time to go." Mark and Ikawa looked up to see Leti framed in the doorway, her tunic and breeches brown with caked blood.

  The men filed out of the bastion and back to the open platform. The storm had cleared enough to reveal the twin moons of Haven riding high in the midnight sky.

  The lone soldier stood before them, rage in his eyes.

  "Someday you'll understand," Leti whispered sadly. Rising into the air, she turned westward. The offworlders mumbled their apologies and followed her.

  Mark, unable to stop himself, looked back and knew that he would be forever haunted by the lone soldier's gaze: the look of an innocent man caught in the wheels of war.

  Stretching her weary limbs, Patrice strode to the edge of the dock and looked out across the empty sea, tinged now with the first faint light of dawn.

  Never had she pushed herself so hard, and she felt herself trembling with exhaustion. The flying had been tough and seemingly endless through the night. Two of her sorcerers had disappeared, plummeting into the ocean; a dozen others had been left behind on the boat which had been their launch platform. Yet it had worked. The two strike forces had hit
with devastating effectiveness, and she smiled inwardly, knowing that the goal was now almost within reach. All communications were being jammed by her sorcerers positioned off the coast in small boats, blocking the offworlders from any hope of sending a message.

  It was regrettable that there had not been enough time to finish destroying everything. But the carnage would undoubtedly stop the offworlders in their misplaced desire to help save her victims. There was nothing left of the next city out, and jumping the distance from Tulana's city to the mainland would be nearly impossible even for a sorcerer who was well rested.

  The destruction bothered her slightly. Killing in battle was one thing, but the slaughtering of women and children had been rather distasteful.

  "My lady, your breakfast is ready."

  Patrice looked back at Leona. In some ways the young sorceress reminded her of Vena.

  Poor Vena, she thought sadiy; but the girl had served her purpose well.

  "I'll be along in a second, dear," Patrice sighed.

  With a flash of red, the ocean before her turned scarlet with the first light of day. Breathing deeply of the morning air, a sad smile lit her features.

  Several hours of rest, she thought, and then to the mainland by dawn tomorrow. Safely into her own territory, she could leave the escort behind and fly with the power and speed of a demigod, far ahead of Leti and her escorts. By the time the forces of Asmara were stirred, the portal into Gorgon's realm would be open to receive him.

  The water rippled, and with a light splash a slender form darted through the golden depths. Half curious, she watched the creature streak away. There was something about the creature's eyes that bothered her--as if it were somehow accusing her.

  Vaguely uneasy, Patrice followed the shadowy form as it popped out of the water again, held in the air for a second, and then turned over and plunged into the depths.

  "They're beautiful, aren't they?" Leona said, coming up to stand beside Patrice.

  "Beauty can hide an enemy," Patrice replied. "Stay here. If you see it again, strike it."

  The girl looked at Patrice with shock. The demigod had seen Leona refrain from striking the boats and people in the water as ordered. She wanted to say something, but thought better of it. For the moment, she'd need all her people. There'd be time enough for punishments after the campaign was finished.