Harmonic Magic Series Boxed Set

by P. E. Padilla

  Regi paused, picturing the little monkey in her mind. She thought of the story and what it meant. Then, quite by surprise, she burst into tears. She could only see Rindu’s surprised expression before the world went blurry and she started sobbing uncontrollably.

  What was wrong with her? She didn’t cry. She couldn’t remember the last time she had done so. It was just that all that had happened with the Zouyim and then having the only family she had ever known leave on a mission that was very dangerous and the fact that she was not allowed to go. It had all piled up and now the story triggered her emotions. She continued to sob.

  Rindu, not knowing what to do, patted her shoulder and made soothing noises.

  After a few moments, she regained control of herself. She was still crying, but she was now able to breathe. She looked at Rindu. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

  Rindu put his arm around her and drew her close to him in a one-armed hug.

  “It is the weight of all you have seen, all that you fear. You feel that you have let others down in being left behind, that you are powerless. Do not think this.”

  She sniffed and tried to wipe the tears away, but they just kept coming.

  “Like Monkey, you must act according to your nature. It is not right or wrong, it just is. You have trouble obeying commands without question, with being the same as everyone else, but that is your strength, Reginia.”

  He put two fingers under her chin and tilted her head so he could look into her eyes. “You are as much a daughter to me as Nalia. We are not blood, but we are family. I am so proud of the woman you have grown to be. If you are unable to act exactly the same as every other Sapsyr, well, that may be to our advantage. Just know that I love you dearly and know you to be a great asset to my family and to the sisterhood of the Sapsyra.”

  He kissed the top of her head and held her for a few more long minutes until her tears dried up and she was breathing normally. She felt safe and calm, more so than she had in as long as she could remember. She reached her arms around him and hugged him.

  “Thank you, Master Rindu. Your story helped me. I’ll try to always remember its lesson.”

  They released each other and sat back in their chairs. Regi took a long sip of her tea. Her heart was regaining its normal beat after racing earlier. “Oh,” she said, “I almost forgot. Ylleria asked me to tell you that she loves you dearly. And she also told me that after I told you that I should scold you for scaring the wits out of her.”

  Rindu smiled sadly as he brought his cup to his lips. “I think she and I are even on that account.”

  Chapter 17

  The Sapsyra had no problems on the way to the Gray Fortress. Traveling relentlessly north, taking advantage of the roads that led to and through some of the larger cities, they made good time. Bandits did not dare to show themselves to such a large force of warriors. Still, it was a long way and by the time they got to the Dead Zone, a lifeless area that had been destroyed hundreds of years ago in the Great War and had never recovered, they had been on the road for almost twenty-three days.

  “We will arrive at the gates of the Gray Fortress in two days,” Nalia reported to her mother. “The scouts have returned. Do you wish to speak with them now?”

  She did, and soon Nalia was leading two tired and dirty Sapsyra to her mother. They saluted and waited for instruction.

  “What do you have to report?” Ylleria asked.

  The two women glanced at each other. The one on the left nodded to the other and the scout on the right took a half step forward. She was young, perhaps not thirty years old yet, with dark hair wrapped in a bun and with tanned, wind-burned skin. The circles under her eyes made Ylleria feel her own fatigue. They had been moving quickly, resting little, in hopes of surprising the Gray Man and catching him still weak from his battle with the Zouyim.

  “We are perhaps two days from the gates,” the scout said. “This desolate land stretches on and on, making for quick travel but leaving us visible. We must head toward the East and then North to reach the one practical way in to the Gray Fortress.

  “The fortress itself is ringed by a vast tract of trees, the Undead Forest. There is but one road through the dense growth, and it goes straight to the front gates. Trying to pass through the Undead Forest itself, without using the road, is…inadvisable.”

  “What do you mean, ‘inadvisable?’” Ylleria asked her.

  “There are creatures in the forest, as well as traps, according to our best information. In any case, traveling through such thick vegetation would split our ranks, make us more vulnerable, and increase the time to get to the walls by perhaps days.”

  Ylleria looked at the scout thoughtfully. “I see. Continue.”

  “In between the forest and the walls of the keep, there is a cleared area. It is as barren as the land through which we are passing. It makes approach to the walls unseen impossible, especially for a large force.

  “The road to the Fortress is wide, but it is monitored carefully. There are patrols that carry horns to warn others at the first sign of danger. It will be difficult to pass unnoticed.”

  “What if we pass at night?” Nalia asked.

  “That is what we suggest. Small groups could neutralize patrols and allow the main force to get closer, though the road is well lit after the sun goes down. The best we can hope is to get to the gates without a general alarm sounding. After that, there is no way of getting into the Fortress without the gates being opened. The cliffs on which the Fortress sits are perhaps two hundred feet high, and unscalable. The walls are at least fifty feet tall above that. There is a road that consists of many switchbacks, crawling up the cliffs to the gate of the fortress. We will have to use that to gain access.”

  “Thank you,” Ylleria said. “You are off duty now. Rest. We will be moving out before you know it.”

  Both scouts snapped to attention, saluted, and then left.

  “Nalia, please have all three of my mrysur report to me. We must make plans. Though you are only a mrynat in rank, you may join us. I have need of your opinion.”

  “Yes, mother,” Nalia saluted her. “Thank you.”

  Ylleria, her three mrysur, and Nalia discussed their strategy for several hours. When the meeting ended, there was a rough plan in place. All they would need was careful execution, no surprises, and some amount of luck. They slept a few hours and were up breaking camp and traveling before the sun had fully shown itself over the horizon.

  Of the one hundred Sapsyra, Ylleria, with the rank of mrymit, was the supreme commander. She had with her three mrysur, each commanding thirty or so sryrnat, regular soldiers. Each of the mrysur had two or three mrynat, such as Nalia. These commanded five to fifteen of the sryrnat, depending upon the function of the group. Nalia herself commanded twelve of the most capable fighters in the order and who also had special skills, ones that would be necessary for the plan to work.

  Throughout the day, the force marched at the same hurried rate they had been marching since they left Marybador, the scouts regularly rotating out to collect information and then back in to report. All of the scouts rode rakkeben, so they were able to cover the miles more quickly than the main force.

  The morning of the second day, they were drawing closer to the Undead Forest. What started as a smudge of gray on the horizon resolved itself into a pale green mass of vegetation. Poking its head above the trees, much further away, was the Gray Fortress.

  The deep gray stone of the fortress rose up into the sky. It was much larger than Nalia had imagined it. She could not take her eyes off it.

  “Impressive, is it not?” her mother said as she came up to Nalia. “I do not think I have ever seen anything so massive made by man.”

  “When I heard stories about the Black Fortress of the Arzbedim, and how they had wrested it from the control of the Great King, I had never pictured it so large. I always thought it to be the size of the Zouyim temple or of our compound in Marybador. It is t
en times as big, fifty times perhaps.”

  Ylleria put a hand on Nalia’s shoulder. “The size of a structure does not make it invincible. You know this.”

  “I do, Mother. I am not afraid. I just am amazed at the size of the thing. We are still many miles away. When the scouts told us the height of the walls, I thought perhaps they exaggerated. Still,” she turned her masked head to her mother and Ylleria could hear the smile in her voice, “father is fond of saying that the biggest opponents make the biggest sound when they are toppled. I predict a very loud noise soon.”

  Ylleria smiled back at her daughter and put her hand on Nalia’s shoulder. “Yes, you are correct. Come, eat. We draw close and must make sure all is prepared.”

  After their meal, the sisters swung toward the West so that they were not coming straight toward the break in the forest. Because the corridor cut through the forest was so long, it effectively blocked the fortress’s view of the sisters approaching them unless they positioned themselves directly in front of the opening. By the end of the day, they were very close to the edge of the trees. As night fell, they rested one last time.

  Three hours into the night, the first of the special units left the main force and made their way through the vegetation bordering the road. Their job was to eliminate any patrols or guards they found, allowing Nalia and her twelve to pass. The entire plan hinged on them successfully completing their tasks. The units stayed at the edge of the trees and so did not encounter any of the traps or animals within.

  Nalia stood at attention before her mother, her sryrnat behind her. She saluted. “Mrymit Zose,” she said formally. “My unit is ready to begin their mission.”

  Ylleria looked the thirteen over and nodded. “Very well, Mrynat Wroun. Carry on. Be silent and deadly. And return.” Her expression broke for one small second, showing anguish, but she quickly wiped it away.

  Dipping her masked head briefly, Nalia stepped up to her mother and wrapped her arms around her. “We will be successful, mother. Be ready. I love you.”

  The women hugged for a long moment and then stepped away from each other. None of the other twelve women so much as moved their eyes from looking directly ahead. Nalia loved every one of them more because of it.

  “Let us go,” she said to them and they moved off into the darkness.

  Chapter 18

  Nalia and her group stayed on the road itself, though close to the bordering forest, trusting that the other special groups had done their job in eliminating patrols. They had, and she saw no sentries as they quickly moved through the corridor in the forest to the open area before the walls.

  Because the cliffs jutted straight up from the flat surface of the buffer zone, the keep sat high above the forest and the Dead Zone beyond. At this one location only, the front entrance, there was a series of winding switchbacks that made their way up to the top of the cliffs.

  The path up to the fortress, the switchbacks themselves, were raised to somewhere between a dozen and twenty feet from the sharply sloping side of the mountain on which the fortress rested. The raised roadway, itself twenty feet wide, was created of large stone blocks artfully fit together to make a relatively smooth, flat surface. It looked somewhat like the aqueducts in some of the larger cities.

  Every inch of the roadway was well lit with pole lamps. The sides of the supports, however, were bathed in shadow, and herein lay the path Nalia and her group would take.

  At the start of the roadway, the women stepped into the harnesses they brought with them. Made of rope and woven in such a way that they supported the wearer from the inner thighs and around the back side, they were brought specifically to allow them to make their way up to the front gates.

  Nalia hefted the two bronze hooks attached to the two short sections of rope making up the ends of the harness. The ropes came from that harness and through a metal ring set in front of the abdomen of the wearer. This allowed the force exerted on the harness to be distributed evenly whether one or both end ropes were being used.

  Moving stealthily through the darkness to the side of the pathway, she went to where the short wall on the side of the path raised up from the ground. From there, it quickly rose to its initial height of about fifteen feet. Reaching up, she set one of the hooks, the one on her left side, on the lip of the stone and then sat back in her harness, putting all her weight on it. Looking at the next woman, she nodded and began to move.

  She pulled herself up on the hook already in place, using the handle conveniently built into it, then placed the other two feet up from the one she was pulling on. Once the second grapnel was set, it released the tension on the first and she was able to easily take it off and move it. She pulled up on the handle that she was now resting on and set the first hook again, two feet further up the wall, crossing the ropes attached to each of the tools. It would take a long time to get to the top of the pathway, but she would do so unseen in the shadows.

  After Nalia was a dozen feet up the pathway, the next woman set her first hook. There were women on the other side of the pathway as well, on the shadowed support wall, who were similarly inching their way up. There was nothing left to do but to carry on the tiring work of setting the grapnels, pulling up, setting the next one, and repeating it again. When any of the women needed to stretch her arms or rest, she would simply put both hooks next to each other on the lip of the path’s wall—relying on one seemed a bit risky—and sit back in her harness to rest.

  Nalia was only a third of the way up the path when she saw a patrol of three guards coming down from the fortress, chatting softly with each other and generally not paying attention. Still, with seven women on one side of the path and six on the other, all hanging over the side and not in a position to do anything if seen, she knew the guards would have to be taken care of.

  She caught the attention of the Sapsyr to her left, motioning her to prepare to ambush the guards. She removed several ceramic glass darts from her belt pouch, showing them to the other woman. Her comrade nodded and produced several of her own. Then they waited.

  As the guards drew closer, Nalia could see that although they generally appeared not to be paying attention, the guard in the center flicked his eyes back and forth, scanning the path and its short walls on either side, always looking, always moving. He would have to be the first to be disposed of.

  When the three were within ten feet of Nalia’s position, she grabbed hold of one of the hooks with her left hand and prepared to spring. Just as she was about to lift herself up to a position where she would have a clear field of view to throw her spikes, one of the guards—the center one, she thought, but could not see because they were directly over her—made a sound of exclamation and said, “Hey, what is—”

  That was all he got out before Nalia’s dart took him in the throat.

  She went to throw another and saw that both of the other guards had also sprouted darts from their throats. She looked over to her left and saw that she other Sapsyr had pulled herself up as Nalia did and had thrown her projectile. Across the path, just peeking above the wall, was the face of another of her sisters, the obvious origin of the third weapon. The Sapsyra nodded to each other in recognition.

  After a moment of deliberation, Nalia decided the bodies would be too readily visible from the gatehouse, so she and three of her fellow sisters quickly pulled the bodies to the wall, hoisted them up and dropped them unceremoniously to the slope of the hill twenty feet below. There was a soft sliding sound as one or more of the bodies made its way down the decline until it caught on something and stopped moving.

  Back safely in the shadows, Nalia looked toward the gatehouse and then up and down the path. With the wind whistling across the hillside, she hoped the sound had not made its way up to the guards on the wall. Everything was still and silent for several minutes as all the Sapsyra waited, resting in their harnesses in the darkness.

  When it was obvious they had not been discovered, they continued on their way, one hook at a time, moving up
the path. An hour later they finally reached where the path dropped off and the drawbridge began.

  The span between the path and the cliff on which the gatehouse was situated was a good thirty feet. The drawbridge was down, so passage was easy for those who were authorized to be there. For the intruders, it was more difficult.

  Nalia started across, using the hooks on the dense wood of the bridge as she had on the stone of the pathway wall. Now, though, she was hanging in empty air in her harness instead of sliding along a wall. It was also a bit more difficult to move the hooks because their sharp points sunk into the wood and stuck there. This required more strength and balance to pull herself up with one hand and hold her body rigid enough to maintain the leverage to remove the other hook. Both of these things made it more intense. She pushed all thought from her mind and concentrated on placing the next hook until she reached the other side.

  She moved her hooks from the bridge to the stone lip of the cliff and continued until she was around the curve of the gatehouse tower and out of sight of the front watchmen on the walls. She waited there for her sisters to make it to her, listening and watching for any sign they had been seen. So far, they had not been detected.

  Another quarter hour passed until the other six Sapsyra were hanging in their harnesses near her. She motioned to Eoria Nan to go to work.

  Eoria was very small, barely five feet tall and thin as a cattail. She also happened to be a fierce warrior, very strong for her size—or for any size, really—and she had special skills, one of which she would demonstrate now.

  The woman reached into a pouch slung across her chest and pulled out what seemed to be a rigid glove. She put it on and pulled the many straps on it tight over her hand. Then, after doing the same with one for the other hand, she pulled out a contraption and strapped it tightly to her foot. Another followed for the other foot.

  Reaching down, she removed the thick leather covers from the foot contraptions, placed them in her sack, and then carefully removed similar covers from the devices strapped onto her hands. Dozens of little rigid bristles, tiny hardened ceramic glass spikes, glistened in the faint moonlight. They angled from her palm toward the ground in front of her, meant to be used by pulling downward to set them.