Lightfoot

by Joe Kuster

  Fumbling for his crossbow, he raised it in time to fire off a bolt into a short man in a chainmail byrnie coming at them bearing two hand axes. The man stumbled as the arrow sunk deep into his chest, but his momentum carried him forward.

  In a flash, Rachel was there, shouldering the berserker hard to the side. Her glowing sword flashed out, nearly decapitating her target. She whipped her sword back the direction she’d come from and slapped at a thrown spear with the flat of her blade. Dark braid lashing the air, the war maiden thrust forward, gliding through the air as she skewered the traitorous royal guard who had thrown it.

  Pulling himself to his knees, TJ spat blood to the ground. It felt like his only job lately had been to be the weak link in his group. It seemed like everyone else could have easily dodged or blocked the attack that had nearly ended him. He decided that part of the problem was that he was as graceful as a fish on the land.

  Blowing out a frustrated breath, he muttered, “Fuck this. Abby, stay with Rachel.”

  Still wobbly, he fell twice trying to get up. Stretching out his wings, he lifted himself into the air. He managed to clear the roofline with a few firm flaps and could make out the street ahead.

  He sucked in a sharp breath as he realized that it wasn’t so much an ambush as the backside of the occupying forces sieging the castle. They were bottlenecked due to a few fallen buildings, but just on the other side of the alley, there were at least a few hundred soldiers under variously colored mercenary banners. So far, they seemed distracted by another force further ahead, but it looked like they’d just noticed they were being flanked.

  Reaching deep into his magic, he began gathering his only large area of effect spell. A golden glow enveloped his skin as he reached out his hands. As he channeled the monster spell, he could feel his essence leaking around the massive crack in his core. Where before, he’d had a tiny leak, now the unshaped magic gushed, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it other than double down and cast faster.

  Words of power slipped past his lips as a ball of fire of epic proportions erupted from his outstretched fingers. The flaming sphere of anger ripped through the air, growing as it went. It was the size of a building by the time it landed amid the press of soldiers.

  Bodies were sent flying as the blazing inferno detonated. Pumping his wings hard, he zigged to the side as a dozen spells were sent his way. A returning fireball was hurled through the air and managed to get close enough that it singed a few of his feathers. Dropping into a dive, he swooped out of sight.

  Pool nearly empty, he uncorked his divine essence vial and briefly shook it against the skin of his thumb before tucking it away again. Like before, the golden energy infused his being. He flooded his group’s bonds, forcing them to their maximum capacity, then shot into the air.

  He struggled to digest the deluge as he began throwing out kinetic blasts left, right, and center. As a result of his core’s uncontrolled leakage of essence, twice his kinetic boom was accompanied by additional effects. The first one caused the mage he’d targeted to explode into a cloud of copper coins. Unfortunately, the second time wild magic took hold, it managed to freeze his hand solid mid-casting. He’d bobbed and weaved while desperately trying to fix it with his healing.

  Jewels openly laughed at him. “Dumbass.”

  “Caught you by surprise, didn’t I?” he complained.

  She retorted. “That just makes you breaking your core dumbassery of such epic proportions that I couldn’t predict that level of stupidity. You had a higher chance of blowing yourself up than that glyph. Besides, what mage would risk permanently breaking their magic?”

  “Serina fixed this once before,” he huffed out, panting under the strain of dodging a lightning bolt.

  The dungeon snorted. “Sure, but where does that get you now? Every spell you cast has a chance of killing you, anyone around you, or well… doing anything. Part of me doesn’t want to be anywhere near you, but the other part wants to be around to watch when you accidentally transform yourself into a churro, or maybe a pickle. Then I’m going to write a poem about your epic dumbassery. I’m still deciding on a title. Which do you prefer? The Plucky Putz, or The Witless Warlock?”

  TJ growled at her but didn’t have a suitable reply as he flapped furiously to dodge yet another sparkling blue mass of magic. Shaking out his hand, the last of the ice broke free, and he went back to work.

  Before him, the army was a jumbled mess of guards, mercenaries, and New Order disciples rushing about their impromptu tents, houses they had taken over, and supply wagons. TJ ignored most of it and made anyone wearing robes his target. The city echoed with the supersonic booms of his magic as he rained explosions down onto them like death incarnate. Chaos was unleashed as the crowd began surging one way then another.

  Once no more magic was flying his way, he flew high enough that their arrows fell short. He then jerked hard on the nearby buildings with his telekinetic spell. With a jolt, the support beams still standing in the burned-out shops gave way and toppled into the gap, cutting off the flow of frontline warriors.

  Finally able to take a breather, he loaded up his crossbow with his magical bolts and launched every single fire arrow he had left in his quiver. Even then, he kept it up, firing his mundane ammunition at anyone that looked to be giving orders, was wearing any sort of prominent insignia, or had on a fancy hat.

  Seeing the futility of positioning a ground-based military against an airborne magician and archer, the tide quickly turned. As the last of their officers fell, the army broke and began funneling through alleyways in a fast retreat.

  Far below, he could make out his group slaughtering their way through a bottleneck. Keeping an eye on their magic, he downed several doses of divine essence and sent it their way.

  In response, Faith wrapped her shadows around her, making herself the size of a panther and became a beast of nightmares as her dark tendrils lashed out and cleaved bodies. Taking advantage of the situation, Abby began detonating sonic boom after sonic boom as she cleared the way and stunned everyone while Kallista and Rachel finished them off. Burning through their magic fast and furious, it wasn’t long until they had carved their way into the courtyard at the south end of the keep.

  Glancing behind him, Nostromo Company worked their way down another parallel street, seeming to vector in on his spells. Their shield wall moved in unison, spears jabbing as they collided with the retreating forces. They split at each intersection, retaking the city block by block.

  An entire force he’d missed stormed out of a cluster of buildings and engaged his troops. At first, TJ was concerned as his people seemed to be falling back, but the move only drew out the other forces into a trap as another contingent circled around and pressed them from the flank. In moments, it became a hopelessly lopsided engagement as his heavy foot soldiers held them in place while his archers whittled the opposing force down.

  TJ sighed in relief. He was no great commander, and he wasn’t about to pretend otherwise. At best, he’d read two short primers on battlefield strategies. That’d been enough to convince him that he’d be better served hiring people who knew their job for the time being.

  As he soared overhead, he mused that watching the action from the air gave him a better insight into the ebb and flow of things. If he could call out commands to his troops from the sky, they might be able to pull off impressive feats. He decided that if this became a regular need, he’d dedicate some time to building up the skills to make it happen. It seemed like something he could do well with a bit more preparation.

  As that idea took hold, he recalled Duchess Aberdeen’s interest in his lineage, and her obsession began making much more sense. He’d cost her a title she’d needed to give away anyway, but in return, she was likely going to get commanders and generals that could turn the tides of war in a way no ground-based army could match.

  Looking toward the church, he spotted more fighting. One side seemed to be a mishmash of colors that he could only
assume were Kallista’s people. On what side of the conflict, he couldn’t be sure, but they seemed to be slowly working their way to the keep. If he had to guess, they were currently cleaving their way through the forces he’d just dispersed and were making steady headway.

  Knowing he couldn’t stay aloft all day, he set to work carving down stragglers as Jewels directed him. She alternated between giving whoops of joy or insulting him for letting attacks get too close as he began looping through the air, dodging the occasional spell or arrow.

  After TJ had tracked down and slain a dozen magicians and several mercenary officers holding barricades, he began huffing under the strain of constant changes in direction and altitude.

  Once he’d slowed down enough that he was nearly caught in what looked like a ball of necrotic energy, TJ decided to circle back to his party before he was too tired to continue. Targeted death from above was all and well, but the flat, motionless gray clouds left him flying without the aid of thermals or even a breeze.

  Rachel was leaning against her sword and panting as he glided into place in front of her. She was liberally coated in blood but seemed unhurt. Still riding her battle high, she grabbed him by the back of the neck and pressed her lips to his. His thoughts went fuzzy as her soul pressed against his.

  Interrupting them, Jewels piped up, “There is still a significant force to the north of the keep. I believe the attackers have rallied an offensive there. I also sense a massive amount of magic being expended.”

  TJ glanced down at the little vial in his hand and frowned. They’d carved through a significant force, but it had cost them dearly. He doubted he’d ever see as much divine essence as he’d started the attack with. He felt confident that he’d already burned through more magic than he’d get from a weeklong drunken orgy.

  Looking inward, he checked on Serina once again. Poking and prodding as best he could, she appeared to either be asleep, which Devas didn’t do, or so deep in a meditative state of recovery that she couldn’t respond. She felt fragile but stable. He could also feel the steady trickle of accumulated energy over their bond heading her way.

  He held the vial up to his eye, wishing there were more than the twenty or so drops left. Accepting that he had to try, he gave a shrug as he slid it back into his pocket.

  “It looks like we can cut through these burned-out buildings, then catch an alley that will take us north. Sound good?” TJ asked.

  Receiving nods of agreement, they began picking their way through the debris as stealthily as they could. It took a half-hour of navigating around collapsed buildings, dead bodies, and killing the occasional sentry before they were on the right side of the keep.

  TJ pushed aside a fallen sign for the city’s roof worker’s union shop as they exited an ally outside a collapsed building. Squeezing through the rubble, they made their way into the plaza that was usually reserved for the temporary market stalls. The keep itself was obscured behind a secondary set of stone walls, but from the ruckus, it sounded like a sizable encampment was on the other side of the wall that separated the city proper from the keep.

  He’d only made it a single step in the direction of the keep when a dozen lightning bolts crackled in the skies above. With a horrible pulsing sound, the flat gray clouds overhead began to coalesce into a whirling vortex. The wind picked up and began to howl around them. Dust filled the air as more lightning boomed, striking the keep, or at least trying to. It all seemed to stop just short on some sort of magical barrier.

  “Uh… that doesn’t look good,” Kalli muttered.

  Rachel shook out her shoulders. “Looks like we need to hurry.”

  Breaking into a run, the group closed on the nearest gate through the thick stone wall. Easing up to the locked steel gate, they could see a massive gathering of robed figures clustered inside a channeling circle. Heads bowed, and arms extended, none of them moved as they fed their power to the center where someone in the maelstrom was controlling the storm. The wind whipped around them, causing their clothing to flap and slash wildly.

  On the casters’ far side, Kallista’s kin were in formation, armed and armored, ready to rush into battle when the barrier collapsed.

  Steeling themselves as best they could, TJ detonated a spell on the locking mechanism, sending it flying. As the gate swung open with a deafening bang, some of the nearby casters lost their concentration.

  Two were instantly set ablaze as the magical backlash washed over them, and two more fainted. One made to stand but fell backward into the ethereal mass of green glow, disappearing instantly as he was disintegrated. No others showed the slightest reactions as they remained deep in their trance. TJ assumed their approach’s noise was muffled by the windstorm whipping around the summoning’s focal point.

  Overhead, dozens of lightning bolts detonated, one after another funneled from the center of their summoned storm. They crackled blinding white, leaving spots in his vision as they shook the air. Struggling to watch the action, TJ saw each one dissipate the moment they hit the unseen barrier.

  The wind picked up as chanting rose in volume. TJ took aim with his crossbow and fired randomly into the crowd, but the wind plucked his projectile from the air and swept it into the tornado of magic. None of the casters seemed aware of their presence, but as they closed in, the air pulled fiercely at their clothing, threatening to lift them into the air.

  Preparing to launch a spell into their midst TJ was distracted as an arrow whizzed past his head. For a second, he wondered if it was the same bolt he’d fired circling around. Only a second later, another shattered on Rachel’s ribs as it connected with her enchanted armor. Abby was targeted a moment later, but instead of connecting, one of her bracelets glowed brightly as the projectile was reflected.

  Everyone shifted, trying to find the attacker but other than the mass of magicians, it was open greenspace all the way to the surrounding wall. Another arrow seemed to appear in midair and came hurtling toward TJ. Working quickly, Faith formed a shield in front of him, deflecting it.

  Seeing a shimmer of haze in the air, TJ whipped a nearby rock in that direction. It collided with something, causing the air to distort. Slowly, the shimmer of magical camouflage collapsed, revealing a group of ten black-robed figures surrounded by a cluster of warriors in gleaming armor with the New Order’s insignia. Each one of them seemed to radiate a powerful aura.

  The two in front reacted to their glamor failing by slamming the points of their kite shields to the ground. The mages dropped to their knees and began channeling as the remaining warriors moved to engage. There was a crackle of magic as the air grew hazy around them. The two archers nocked fresh arrows, and this time both sparkled with familiar green magic. TJ launched a force attack at the archers, but it bounced off an invisible barrier, leaving sparks and glowing bits hanging in mid-air.

  “I’m really starting to hate barrier magic,” he yelled as he retreated from a bolt of ice that one of the mages in the back hurled his way.

  Two arrows sliced through the air, but TJ was quick enough to slap them aside with his magic this time. Kallista dashed to the side, throwing rock after rock until she found the border of the forward-facing magical shield.

  The moment her rock sailed into them, she followed it up with a glowing storm of knives. Both archers were caught unaware, looking like pin cushions as they fell to the ground clutching at their wounds. One of the magicians broke away from the circle and rushed in, trying to heal them. Taking the opposite side from Kalli, TJ sprinted into place and fired off a barrage of kinetic blasts that made their healing efforts pointless as he took their heads, then took the mage’s.

  Rachel collided with the shield wardens, keeping them distracted and unable to adjust their magical shields that protected the rest of the group. Sparks flew as they tried to keep her at bay with occasional thrusts of their spears.

  In the back, a glowing ball of green magic began to form. One of the disciples stepped out of the circle as a tether of energy trailed beh
ind him. A familiar figure tossed his cowl back and grinned wickedly. The scrawny blond man from Larton raised his hand, malevolence in his blue eyes.

  With an ugly crush of guttural tones, a black bolt of energy shot out. As if hitting something, the spell splattered to a stop, suspended in the air four feet off the ground. The black goo twisted and writhed until it stabilized into an ebony disk three feet across.

  Sven gave a low whistle, and a two-headed cursed hound bounded out of the dark blob. The beast whipped its heads back and forth and immediately charged Rachel. As it launched forward, another hound launched itself out of the portal, then another and another.

  TJ whipped his magic out at the monster, then the next, but more kept streaming out from the black goop. By the time he could kill one, another had popped out.

  “I think we know how those beasts ended up in the dump,” Rachel roared as her sword cleaved one in two. She kicked off its body and pivoted, dodging another that had tried to pounce on her while she whipped her blade, deflecting a spearpoint from a shield warden.

  TJ yelled back, “Someone needs to take him out! Rachel and I will deal with the hounds.”

  Kallista’s form began to grow hazy, but one of the shield bearers slammed his fist into his protective plating. A green flash exploded out, disrupting her ability, and knocking her off her feet. A spear lashed out as she rolled, narrowly avoiding the blow.

  “Timarat’s elite won’t fall for your petty tricks, whore of the pit,” the shield warden nearest to her bellowed.

  Frowning, Abby worked her lute, and one of the spearmen in the back slumped. A golden glow infused her target’s face, then was hammered back by a green flash coming from the man’s pendant.

  Faith ran in close and managed to carve off one of the warrior’s hands before they realized she was a threat. She hissed and flapped backward as a jet of fire erupted from one of the mages.