Stormfront

by John Goode

  “Oh,” Molly said, sounding relieved. “The workshop has a maintenance schedule.” The barbarian looked at her blankly. “It cleans itself regularly. Every so often it will send automated units through the halls to do both cleanup and removal of trash and debris. Most likely they took the choppers’ bodies down to the smelter for recycling.”

  Ferra opened her hand, dismissing the ice lance. “Recycle for what?”

  Molly kept walking. “Spare parts. The organic pieces will be discarded, but the metal and mechanics can be repurposed. I’m willing to bet most of those choppers ended up being part of the next cleaning crew.”

  “Why not make more choppers?”

  Molly stopped and stared back at her. A pair of amber lenses had covered her eyes, and her voice was that of a gruff and angry male. “Information about workshop security is restricted. Cease this line of inquiry before this unit is forced to respond.”

  The lenses slipped back up, and Molly kept talking as if nothing had happened. “I’m willing to bet most of those choppers ended up being part of the cleaning crew.”

  Ferra was baffled. Before, the lenses had been red and Molly seemed to be some kind of combat unit. This was something different, the voice that came from her sounded stern and unforgiving, nothing like the Molly she knew and… cared strongly for.

  “What is that look for?” Molly asked, her voice now melodic and questioning.

  “I just want to find some answers,” Ferra said after a long couple of seconds. “I’m worried about you.”

  Molly tilted her head and her mouth servos moved to simulate a smile. “I’m fine, silly; you worry too much.”

  The clockwork girl kept walking. Ferra thought, And you don’t worry enough.

  “They say wars are won by those

  with the greatest strategies or biggest armies.

  This is not true. Most battles are won by the

  side willing to do the most outrageous thing possible.”

  General BigWig

  Commander in Chief of the United Willows Armed Forces

  Chapter Two

  THE NEXT day Hawk assembled everyone in the throne room.

  The Crystal Court arrived first. Adamas led, flanked by Ruber and Caerus and surrounded by ten amber guards, followed by ten more. Olim and her sister, Demain, arrived immediately after the Court, taking a seat on two thrones of ice. They spoke between themselves, pausing only briefly to stare at Kane. Although Olim’s expression held a bit more warmth, she and her sister clearly didn’t trust him.

  Then a tall, lanky boy dressed in furs arrived with two massive barbarians on either side of him. This was Ishia, the only ice barbarian Ferra trusted to speak for her people in her absence. He looked no older than Hawk or Kane, but he tried to hold himself as if he were older, and frankly it looked ridiculous on him. Him being here rather than any of the elders, though, showed how the clan looked on Ferra now. She was the first of their kind to cross over to the world where their savior supposedly had gone. She was something of a messiah to them now, a herald of their god Logos. Most of the Frigus had passed over and were now living under Olim’s rule, despite the arguments put up by the elders. Ferra had gone from being an outcast to being de facto leader of the tribe nearly overnight, a situation she was far from okay with.

  Ater came in next with Kor behind him. Pullus’s brother still looked as if he was in shock. He followed at Ater’s shoulder, sat where Ater told him to sit, and didn’t look up.

  Kane stared out one of the castle windows, apparently ignoring the gathering altogether. Hawk was worried about Kane, but his priority had to be the situation in front of all of them…. His gaze remained impartial as he looked in turn at each person seated around the great table. He immediately noticed the lack of communication among them and realized his biggest obstacle was fostering any level of trust where, at that moment, none existed.

  “This is where we are,” Hawk stated, assuming control of the meeting. A circular piece of ice polished to a high shine lay in the center of the meeting table. Hawk pointed to it and a magical image of the Arcadian capitol appeared, hovering in midair over the ice. “Arcadia. Designed and created by my mother, it is one of the most powerful strongholds in the realm.”

  Demain’s stage whisper was loud enough for everyone to hear. “So powerful a mass of monsters led by a changeling took it down.”

  Kane turned partway around and stared over his left shoulder at her. She closed her mouth. He turned back to the window.

  Hawk continued. “The castle’s main defense was the Kalibur crystal walls. Their purpose was to amplify the magical enchantments placed around the palace. They were supposed to make the grounds unassailable. We now know Puck circumvented those enchantments by attacking the walls from within the courtyard and shattering them to pieces. This is good news for us.”

  He glanced over at Ater, who took up the rundown. “It means whatever protection Oberon may be using to defend the main castle will be severely diminished by the loss of the walls.”

  “How diminished?” Ruber asked cautiously.

  “Whatever remains should be no match for your people’s magic,” Hawk replied.

  “What about people?” Ishia asked, his voice cracking slightly. He blushed and Hawk wondered what about this boy Ferra trusted. “I mean what about… um, an army?”

  “If you’re asking if my father still has troops, we can only assume he does,” Hawk answered, trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice. “And he won’t be afraid to sacrifice them to make a point.”

  “How many more can he have?” Olim asked from her throne of ice. “The show of force he threw at my castle was no small one.”

  “He had a contingent of animal forces from the Wolflands,” Hawk responded. When all he saw was a blank look from the ice queen he added, “That means he has to have some kind of arrangement with the Wolf King.”

  In a quiet voice Caerus added, “The efreet came from Wolflands as well. The alliance goes deeper and is older than we know.”

  “It means Puck had an arrangement with the Wolf King and my father continued it. Even if he threw his entire force of men against us, there is nothing stopping him from seeking reinforcements.”

  “That efreet almost killed my son,” Adamas’s voice boomed out. “If it came from the Wolf King, he has a lot to answer for.”

  In an even darker voice, Ater said, “He will do far more than simply answer.”

  Even those who didn’t know the efreet had killed Pullus shivered at Ater’s grim words. He stared down at the tabletop, silent, grief still fresh even after the passage of time.

  “Be that as it may, we have to be ready for whatever forces he has marshaled,” Hawk said quietly, distracting the others from the dark elf.

  “Whatever they are, they can be dealt with.”

  Everyone other than Ater and Kor turned their attention to Kane, who still had his back to them.

  Hawk tried to warn him. “We can’t assume we can overcome—”

  Kane turned around, his eyes glowing. “It’s not an assumption. They can be dealt with.”

  No one spoke for a few seconds.

  “Regardless of that,” Hawk began again, “we need to marshal a force to engage those troops while Ater gets us inside. Ater—”

  Ater stood up and passed his hand through the projection. It changed into a three-dimensional map that showed a series of tunnels underneath the castle. “There are no less than four different ways to enter the capitol undetected.”

  “Why so many?” Olim asked, leaning forward.

  “Several reasons,” Ater explained. “The most important is because Arcadia is the center of the Nine Realms, which means it has no shortage of foes. The original tunnels were designed to safely get the royal family out if the capitol was in danger.”

  “That was how I was smuggled out when the Dark first surrounded the castle,” Hawk confirmed.

  “These,” Ater went on, pointing to a pair of tunnels that seemed
rougher, less constructed than the others. The image expanded to give a cutaway view of the interior of the tunnel. “These were made to allow the Dark servants to return to the Under without exposing themselves to the sunlight and open air. Since most creatures that live down there shun the light of day, the tunnels provided a merciful way for them to reach their homes.”

  “It also prevented their less-than-perfect forms from being seen by fairies,” Demain cackled.

  Kane raised his right hand and the sound of her laughter vanished. Her lips were still moving but no sound came from them. The Red Queen looked around in a panic, and Kane said, back still to the crowd, “If you have nothing constructive to add to the conversation, be silent.”

  “That isn’t necessary,” Hawk snapped, but if Kane heard him, he didn’t react.

  Ater talked over the uncomfortable silence. “All four tunnels would be known to the royal family, which means Oberon in this case. This tunnel,” he continued, pointing to a fifth, “is different.”

  The fifth tunnel seemed to wind and twist around the others in a circular pattern, finally emerging well outside the castle grounds.

  “What is it?” Ruber asked, floating forward.

  “It’s an escape route designed by Titania,” Ater replied. He looked at Hawk, obviously waiting for the prince’s inevitable question.

  “A what by who?” Hawk asked, almost sputtering.

  “Your mother had a tunnel built secretly to allow her to escape the castle if need be.”

  “What makes this tunnel so different from the others?” Hawk asked suspiciously.

  “Your father didn’t know about it.”

  That stopped the prince cold in his tracks.

  “It was how I knew that it wasn’t Titania I was escaping with. She had no knowledge of the exit door in the residential rooms, which meant she was an impostor.”

  Hawk sat down, stunned. “Why would my mother build such a thing in advance?”

  Kane finally turned around. “Same reason there was a whole library in her panic mansion. She knew something like this was possible and didn’t trust your dad either.”

  “But why?” Hawk asked, his voice straining with emotion. “I mean, he was always cold and distant, but he is still the father of her only child.”

  “Oberon is not your father,” Adamas exclaimed out of the blue.

  Everyone turned and gaped at him in shock.

  “I never mentioned that before?”

  No one said a word in response.

  FERRA HAD been in the workshop once before, Molly twice. During her trip with Caerus to gather siege weapons, there had been no time for any exploration. Now though both Ferra and Molly found the workshop much simpler to navigate because of the lack of security, which would make the mission of discovering Molly’s true nature and purpose easier. They had also decided, if possible, that they would try to bring the workshop back to the surface world to aid in the attack.

  “Tell me more about Tinker and Jones?” Ferra asked as they descended past the waiting level and another half level onto the fabrication floor.

  Molly’s voice was melodic and upbeat when she answered. “Tinker and Jones are the realms’ foremost experts in clockwork beings. With over a century of experience, they can craft and shape any kind of person you desire.”

  “That sounds like an advertisement,” Ferra remarked.

  “It is,” Molly said, pausing at a sealed door. “We are programmed with that response when someone asks about Tinker and Jones. We used to have brochures that slid out of a slot, but it’s been years since they were replaced, and the ones I had rotted away. It’s annoying to say the least.” She turned a circular dial, and the door clicked open.

  “So then you tell me, what do you know about them?”

  “I never met them,” Molly replied, walking into the next chamber, examining it meticulously. “I was constructed solely for the purpose of being a gift to the Crystal Court. My parameters were fed to the workshop beforehand and the fabrication floor made me. There was no need for Tinker or Jones to be personally involved with my creation.” The clockwork girl’s eyes scanned everything as she walked around.

  They stood in a vast room whose walls were filled with dozens of clear tubes that projected into the space. Each tube was occupied by a dusty brass cylinder. At first Ferra had no idea what she was looking at. Then Molly pulled a switch on the main console. A great groaning sound filled the workshop, and the floor beneath them shook slightly for a few seconds. The cylinders began to vibrate as air was pumped through the tubes for the first time in centuries.

  “Is that some kind of communication system?” Ferra asked, walking over to the closest tube.

  “It is. They called it the Message Access Internal Logical System,” Molly clarified.

  Puzzled, Ferra stared back at her. “What does that mean?”

  Molly pushed a button and one of the brass tubes flew back into the wall in a flash. A couple of seconds passed and the brass tube returned. As soon as its metal body made contact with the receptacle door there was a slight ding. “This is how Tinker and Jones communicated with the rest of the workshop.”

  “That’s all very interesting, but why are we here?”

  “Because we can see when the last communications were sent in the workshop. Once we find the newest messages, we’ll have a good time frame around the workshop shut down.” Molly paused for a second before she added, “I sound like an engineer. That’s strange.” She then began opening the glass tubes to examine the contents, if there were any, of the brass cylinders. Fortunately, most of them were empty, or Molly would have needed hours to complete her task.

  Ferra watched the clockwork girl for almost a minute before giving up. She had no idea how these things worked and frankly didn’t want to learn. She tapped experimentally on some of the other glass tubes. “I thought you said Tinker and Jones were the only humans in the workshop.”

  “They were.”

  “Then why did they need a communication device?”

  “So that clockwork workers could send material requests to the warehouse, or the fabrication floor could tell the delivery system they were ready for a pickup. All sorts of messages.”

  “Why not just build a way for you all to talk to each other?”

  “Never happen,” Molly said quickly. “There would be no way for them to monitor what we were saying if we could speak directly.”

  “These tinkerers were really paranoid about their creations turning on them, weren’t they?”

  Molly nodded, still looking over the tube system. “We always got the feeling one of their inventions had betrayed them in the past. Some of us found time to talk among ourselves, and when we did, the topic was always where they had come from and the origins of the workshop. Even the rare few who had met the creators knew nothing as Tinker and Jones were quite careful discussing it.”

  “I wonder what happened?” Ferra asked, more to herself than to Molly.

  “No idea, but I can see here there were several messages sent from the workshop floor to the command pod. None of them were answered. I think we need to look there.”

  The hairs on the back of Ferra’s neck stood up suddenly. “Command pod?”

  “It’s where Tinker and Jones lived. It was separate from the workshop, but connected in case the workshop had to be destroyed.”

  “Paranoia,” Ferra muttered.

  “It’s not paranoia if something’s actually out to get you,” Molly said with far more cheer than that statement deserved. “Let’s go find the command pod.”

  EVERYTHING WENT south so fast.

  One second Hawk was doing his military speech thing and the next I was literally holding him back from rushing at Adamas with both fists, an action that wouldn’t end well for anyone, to be honest. Adamas would have to knock Hawk out, and then I would have to take Adamas apart very painfully for touching my boyfriend.

  See? Not a happy ending for anyone.

  “Oberon is
not my what?” Hawk screamed at the floating diamond, who seemed to be completely unimpressed by the display of anger.

  “I am sure I said something about it when you were first brought before me.” Adamas sounded like one of those lost old guys who wander around the mall having conversations with themselves. You know the ones? Those guys are, like, harmless and in sweatpants, but Adamas was in charge of one of the most powerful groups of magical beings in the Nine Realms. Him going a bit soft in the brain would be as bad as corduroy coming back into fashion.

  “Father,” Ruber said gently, meaning he was feeling the senile vibe as well. “You’ve never mentioned Hawk’s lineage to anyone before this.”

  “Nonsense,” Adamas snapped, and in the shifting of a facet, he sounded like his old pissed-off self. “When they were brought to my throne room, I asked which of the two mongrels present had royal blood flowing through his veins. That is an exact quote before you go on making accusations about my memory.”

  I want to point out to the studio audience that no one had said word one about his memory, which meant he realized something was amiss in his mind and was getting defensive.

  “I thought you were insulting me,” Hawk raged, no longer trying to break free of my hold but still pissed beyond belief. His mind was a boiling red haze of… well, fury, to be honest.

  “The word mongrel is argumentatively an insult, but the definition still stands. You are no more a full-blooded fairy than that one is a full-blooded human.”

  I was the only human in the room, so I assumed he was talking about me. However, since Adamas seemed to be wandering into crazy town, I didn’t want to assume.

  “How would you know this?” Ruber asked before Hawk could.

  “Did you even bother to scan their genetics? Because I did before they were brought before me.”

  “Genetics?” Hawk asked me mentally.

  “Um, the stuff that makes us…,” I began to explain and then realized I didn’t have enough knowledge to form an answer. I blame Jewel. She always made me play Guess the Lyric during biology. I had had no idea I would need the knowledge later to explain to my magical boyfriend what the floating gem king meant. So I just memory-dumped the information I had into his brain.