Coven Queen

by Jeramy Goble

  Jularra closed her eyes and rubbed her eyelids as if obliging a headache. Her fingertips began to glow, and in turn, so did her eyelids. She pulled her hand away and opened her eyes. Her view of the world was aglow in amber neon.

  She reached to the sky and clenched her fists. She shook them, as if dislodging something, and strained to pull down what only she could see. To her, it was an even brighter copy of the morning sky, tinged with the orange of her glowing eyes. She pulled it down just below the true sky, and then it was hers to use as she saw fit.

  She crouched on the balls of her feet and waved her hands over a patch of dirt inside her circle of Spire. A rough rectangle began to glow the same orange as her eyes. A nearby guard bent her leg to scratch an itch and accidentally slung some dirt onto the patch in front of Jularra. The physical and mental disruption erased the rectangle.

  “Be still!” she barked angrily.

  The false sky was still active, and with another swipe, Jularra blew a new rectangle into being. As soon as it was recreated, Jularra started plucking and pinching and poking it, shaping it with gestures that resembled sprinkling seasonings over food. Slices with the side of her hand here. Wide brushes with her palm there. In time, the design fell into place. It was a representation of Brinnock and its surrounding area.

  While rushing to finish the image, Jularra heard an approaching panic.

  “Overhead! They’ve released the buzzards! Buzzards!”

  Those surrounding her shifted nervously.

  “Buzzards?” asked a young Spire guarding Jularra. “Who gives a fuck about buzzards?”

  “These buzzards,” Korden answered, “are trained to fly high and dive at you at the last minute.”

  “What?” the young guard snapped back. “You’re fucking with me.”

  “No,” Korden insisted as he prepared to put his helmet back on. “They can dodge arrows, and make no sound. Breeders cut their voice boxes out. We need to keep them off the queen.” He then slapped the young guard’s helmet and pointed to her head.

  Jularra sped up her work with the glowing model on the ground, but spared some focus to speak to those guarding her.

  “We’ll be fine. You’ll be fine,” she said. “Just don’t let any fly down here.”

  She worked faster. Clumps of trees, hills, the fields and cliff nearby. The city and its walls.

  “They’re upon us!” shouted a nearby archer. “Watch out!”

  “Come on! Helmets!” Korden shouted.

  Jularra recognized the next smattering of sound as meaty smacks into faces and armor. Screams began to ring out as the birds dived, seeking exposed faces with their dagger-length beaks. As each bird struck, it brought its talons down in a secondary attack. If it couldn’t easily make a target out of a victim’s face, it would try for the chest, arms, or legs. Combined with the momentum of each bird’s dive, the effect on a person, even if mostly armored, could be devastating.

  Cries continued to spill through the streets as the buzzards fell from the sky. Where skin wasn’t struck, the village was still permeated with the banging and clanging of raptor against metal. Jularra dug in with her focus.

  On the far side of the city—in her magical representation of it—she began poking and setting down blocks, ranks, files, and groupings of additional allied forces. Forces that weren’t really there.

  After she placed the final touches, she lifted her hands up over her miniature and began to twitch her fingers as if controlling a marionette.

  From the tree line on the other side of the city, waves of siege engines, archers, cavalry, and foot soldiers began to emerge. They looked real in every way.

  At least, they would to the commanders in Brinnock.

  Jularra's fingers danced and dipped in the air. With each twitch of a hand muscle, she commanded the imaginary armies on the other side of the city and marched them towards the defenses.

  Gargantuan towers pierced the tree canopy. Catapults and ballistae filtered out from behind the trees, and row after row of Acorilan’s fighting men and women poured out onto the field on the other side of the city.

  Jularra floated her hands gently above the magical miniature and brought her imaginary forces closer to Brinnock. As they grew nearer, she knew their war cries would wear on the nerves of those inside the city walls. Closer and closer she brought them. And as the buzzards above circled around for another strafing run on Drelio—where her real forces were staging—horns and shouts announced a shift in defensive strategy inside the city.

  Jularra looked up quickly, peering through the shoulders of the guards standing around her. Her illusion was producing the desired effect. Those along the walls and atop towers were being redeployed and, in many cases, pulled away entirely to fortify the city against the approaching illusion on the other side. She grinned with devilish satisfaction.

  “The other ‘Razers here yet?” Jularra asked.

  Many of the guards turned to scan the fields for any signs of them.

  “Not yet,” Korden replied.

  “Well, we don’t have long before the defenders figure it out,” she said. “As soon as the 'Razers get here, tell them to get to work straight away on that gatehouse.”

  The buzzards had circled around for another pass, this time coming in much closer to the queen and her circle of guards.

  “Shields overhead!” Korden shouted. But some of the women reacted too slowly.

  One of the buzzards shot down and sank its beak deep into a Spire’s eye. The woman stumbled back, screaming. Before anyone else could react, the bird of war had already clawed out a hunk of her cheek with its deadly talons.

  A neighboring guard drew her sword and hacked at the bird, slicing it almost in half and freeing its victim. The wounded guard was then shoved out of the way to prevent any more disruption to the queen’s spell. The surrounding Spire squeezed together more tightly, closing the resulting gap.

  Korden tore into the few whose heads were still unprotected. “Get your helmets back on, damn it!”

  Between air attacks, the Acorilinians inside the village watched Brinnock’s walls grow less and less populated with defenders. And while the buzzards were deadly, and relentless, the fighters inside the village would much rather defend against the birds than against a human army.

  The military illusion was working exactly as planned. Jularra’s flourish of the conjured siege weapons was the perfect finishing touch to her spell, but the time left until the illusion was engaged and discovered was dwindling. The queen needed the Ridgerazers.

  Jularra used her fingers to shift segments of the imaginary army, keeping the Torgurians guessing; stall tactics, to buy a little more time before anyone from Brinnock could engage them.

  The tops of the walls facing Jularra’s real forces seemed almost empty now. The silhouettes between the embrasures had disappeared, and there looked to be no human-shaped figures over the merlons. Their coordinated timing was perfect.

  “Jularra! The Ridgerazers are here!”

  She kept her eyes on her imaginary forces as she issued her next command.

  “Get them into position! Get that main gate down!”

  The Ridgerazers sprinted up, slightly breathless. Many saw the light from Jularra’s mirroring spell spilling out from the circle of guards. Some grinned with excitement in realization of what Jularra was doing, while others leaned and stretched to try and get a better look at the sight inside the circle—the sight of the mirroring magic being done by their queen, arguably their country’s most powerful witch.

  Korden spoke for Jularra and instructed the Ridgerazers.

  “Most of the city is focused on the illusions—for now. We need you to go to work on that main gate.

  "Bring it down.”

  ***

  Despite the queen's illusions, Acorilan's army had no real siege equipment. Instead, they had Ridgerazers.

  As Grand Ridgerazer Porzivis led his group towards the gate at a jog, they called out suggestions through quick
breaths and choppy shouts.

  "We need to weaken the gate,” a Ridgerazer Adept suggested.

  “Let’s use concussion fire,” suggested another.

  “Yes!”

  Porzivis motioned for them to slow down as they reached Drelio’s perimeter. They followed him to the corner of an inn, where he peeked around to check a final time for any signs of lingering defenses at the gatehouse or nearby walls.

  “Right,” Porzivis whispered. “Let’s run out, summon our collective, and start working on the gate immediately.”

  Dolnila, a pupil of Porzivis', respectfully took exception.

  “Won’t we be completely exposed, sir? I doubt they’ve completely abandoned this side of the city.”

  “Was I done speaking?” Porzivis bit back with the tone of a teacher. “I want you and Heersan to create a cloaking dome over us. That should keep us hidden for a while without expending too much of your energy.”

  Dolnila swallowed and then nodded before looking at Heersan.

  “Right,” Porzivis continued. “Get that dome up.”

  Porzivis paused until the blanket of camouflage rolled out above them. “Perfect.” He patted Dolnila on the back in encouragement. “Now, let’s group up next to that signpost. Summon. Attack. Everyone ready?”

  The Grand Ridgerazer quickly scanned the faces of his group. There were no questions or expressions of hesitation.

  “Go!”

  They shot out, leaving Drelio behind, sprinting into a courtyard before reaching the short stretch of road leading to Brinnock’s gatehouse. They slid into place before grouping rapidly into a tight square.

  “Keep that dome up as long as you can. Everyone else—let’s go!”

  Each witch and warlock leaned over, drawing their elbows back and close to their bodies. Their hands opened, then clamped on to what started as a sphere of energy pouring into existence from their collective focus and intent. At first, there was nothing at the center of the group. Then a large sphere of fire began glowing and solidifying. Each of the Ridgerazers slowly crept up on the balls of their feet and leaned in even more. The energy they conjured was stubborn, and required more of their focus and energy to keep it contained as it grew.

  The sphere ballooned and the temperature soared, searing the leaves of weeds and grass blades nearby. Specks of dirt and sand crystallized on the ground—yet no Ridgerazer was injured. This was their energy. Their creation. They willed it into existence, and could not be harmed by it.

  Larger still, the sphere grew. The internal fire mutated into a violent torment of wrapping flames, but still no Ridgerazer was burned. One side of the group split, opening their focus towards the direction of the gatehouse. As they swung around, some of the Ridgerazers shifted their focus from creation to restraint so that they could retain control over the sphere’s energy.

  The group fanned out even more, almost into a straight line. The ball of fire continued to grow, but slowly, deliberately. As the Ridgerazers faced the gatehouse, there was movement up above.

  “There’s someone up there!” Dolnila shouted.

  “Shift that dome!” Porzivis directed. “Do you have it extended to the ground?” He looked up and saw the city’s defenders trickling back to the top of the gatehouse. A chill of panic ran through his body, but he focused on the task.

  “Damn it! They must see something. Release in three… two… one!”

  The two conjuring the dome timed its release to coincide with the attack. The Ridgerazers summoning the projectile instantly shifted their focus from containment to propulsion. In a coordinated effort that took less than a second, they ceased growing the sphere of fire and shot it towards the gatehouse.

  It flew across the hundred or so yards and detonated against the door with a violent slam and a splatter of fire. The gate absorbed most of the force, but bits of flame shot out and latched on.

  “Prepare a new assault, and get a new dome up!” the Grand Ridgerazer shouted. “Move with me; let's keep them guessing.”

  The group of witches and warlocks shifted forward and swung back together in their square, uniting again to summon another blast of fire. A new dome draped into place above them. As the group began manipulating another fire sphere, Porzivis stepped away, focusing instead on the straggling defenders.

  “Keep going!”

  He spread his arms wide and then violently slapped his hands together. With enough experience, knowledge, and power to only focus on the top of the gatehouse, he latched onto the battlements, and squeezed the highest sections together, sealing any crenels through which arrows could be fired. Once the gaps were closed, he then crouched down and pressed up against the resistance of his magic, raising the height of the battlements by a few feet. The Torgurian sight line from the top of the gatehouse had been obstructed.

  But just when the threat from the top of the gatehouse ceased, a small group of Torgurian mages unleashed a volley of energy bolts in the direction of the hidden Ridgerazers.

  The swarm of bolts flew towards them. Many missed and melted into the ground, but most struck the cloak dome. Some that struck were deflected, but there were too many. They began to strike and stick. The dome quickly became visible as it fizzled and cracked, before finally shattering out into nothing. The waiting Torgurian archers nocked and loosed arrows the moment the dome disintegrated.

  An archer’s arrow from the left of the gatehouse found its target, striking Porzivis in the chest. He fell to his knees before immediately stumbling back to his feet. Dolnila stepped out of the square, picked up a stone the size of a fist, and launched it at the archer with the same magic used to fire the spheres at the gate. The stone struck the archer and knocked him off the wall. Dolnila scrambled over and helped Porzivis rejoin the square.

  “Come on!” Porzivis screamed to the group before grimacing from his wound. “Faster!”

  The next sphere was just about ready, but valuable time and momentum had been wasted. Brinnock’s defenders were returning at a troubling rate.

  The sphere grew, and the casters leaned in. Again, the square split and fanned out. With another violent shove, the second fireball shot towards the gate. The doors trembled and groaned beneath the barrage. Chains and wrought iron rattled. Wood split and creaked as more fire took hold.

  “Another! Go! Go!” Porzivis shouted.

  Yet again, they came back together in a square. The Ridgerazers panted and sweated, grunted and groaned. The size of the group and the energy required made them good for only one, possibly two more blasts.

  Once more, a pebble of light sparked into existence. The area inside the square began to glow, and the Ridgerazers latched on and fed off the result of their focus. Their focus grew. Their power multiplied. Another devastating ball of fire swarmed and swirled. Flames licked up to the sky from the center of their square as more archers returned to the nearby sections of wall.

  “Hurry!” a Ridgerazer shouted.

  The group split and began to fan out a third time, but this time, a half-dozen archers released their arrows, catching one ‘Razer in the neck and another in the leg.

  The Ridgerazer with the arrow to the neck went down immediately. Struck in the jugular, he fell to his knees before slumping onto his side, dead. The woman with the arrow in the leg cried out from the sting but maintained her focus. With the lost energy from the dead Ridgerazer, the group struggled to exert control over the mass of flames in their midst.

  But the group reached their release posture once again, and unleashed the blast of their third sphere of fire. As it struck, the gate snapped and split, but still wasn’t completely compromised. The compounding fire would help with that. Still, it was too slow. The Grand Ridgerazer barked out a passionate rally after reaching up to snap off the arrow’s shaft close to his body.

  “Shouldn’t we focus on some of these archers?” Dolnila suggested. Her voice bordered on insolence.

  “There’s no time!” Porzivis reprimanded. “They can’t be allowed to brace tha
t gate. Once more! Now! For your queen! For our people!”

  After shouting, Porzivis heard shuffling feet behind him. He turned to see a row of friendly archers nocking arrows to provide some support.

  He looked back to his ‘Razers and watched the exhausted group swing back together. He saw their legs shaking under the strain. He knew their vision must be blurry from weakness. They must be thirsty. Or maybe that’s just me. He coughed wetly, his lungs burning with the heat of exhaustion.

  Despite his assumptions, the Ridgerazers focused. A fourth pebble of fire popped into existence. The pebble grew into a bulb, and then a fist-sized orb of fire. They had one more in them.

  But despite having to duck and dodge Jularra’s archers, the Torgurian archers had other plans. Their next volley struck half of the group, including Porzivis, still pierced by the head of his original arrow. The fourth sphere dissipated as many in the group fell to the ground, writhing in pain or rattling in death.

  Porzivis fell, but pushed himself back up to his knees. He grabbed Dolnila by the shoulder.

  “Get the others out of here! Go! I’ll finish the gate!”

  More arrows whizzed by. The two Ridgerazers lurched and shifted.

  “No!” Dolnila shouted. “You can’t!”

  “I’m done anyway,” Porzivis said, pointing to his new arrow with a shaky hand. “Just try and cover me. Go!”

  Porzivis reached to stroke Dolnila's hair before giving her head an affectionate tap. They both choked down the despair of a failing plan, dying friends, and the impending loss of even more. But the thought of a wasted war and a starving nation fought back.

  “Fall back!” Dolnila screamed, still holding on to the fading Porzivis. “Fall back to Drelio! To the village!”

  The surviving Ridgerazers tugged at those checking on the fallen, and sprinted off.

  Porzivis shuffled on his hands and knees to a patch of empty ground. Weak and delirious, unsure if he would even survive long enough, he rocked back onto his heels and began summoning another sphere. He knew the attack would kill him, but decided to make the most of his already-dwindling time. In his dying moments, he struggled to stay conscious long enough to put all he had into the final sphere that would open the way for their armies.