Thread Strands (Golden Threads Trilogy)

by Leeland Artra

  The crab facing him thrust its pincher at him like a sword lunge. Moving with his enhanced speed, he leapt over it, bringing his blades together in a scissor cut, which sheared the massive pincher from the crab. Lightning danced on the end of the crab’s arm, where he had cut the claw off.

  What are these things?

  As he landed, the crab backed up.

  You’re not invulnerable or fearless.

  He grinned as he raced at the creature, thrusting his blades towards the eyes. One of the eyes shattered like glass as his blade hit its mark.

  The crab wasn’t finished. Two antennae sprouted from near its head, and the crab moved with a shocking speed, lining its body up, facing him.

  It’s going to shoot something at me!

  He leapt high into the air and back-twisted, to be a harder target. As he flew backwards, he called upon the odassi to block the incoming missiles. Dozens of arrows bounced from the deflection shield his swords provided. The crab followed his path, remaining aligned. Every missile it launched was dead on target.

  As he landed, Mishia-Ollan saw another crab with bloody pinchers running towards him.

  Need to eliminate these things. Let’s try something different.

  He pushed himself to his greatest speeds and stepped into attack range of the first crab, bringing his odassi down in a power strike angled squarely with its armor, which would have cleaved a normal opponent in two. His blades did cut down through the crab’s armor, and he finished the slices by dropping to one knee, making sure his blades went through the front body of the crab. As the strike finished, he rolled to the side. The crab stopped shooting missiles at him, as it stood almost still and shook violently.

  Dead or not, I think this one is out of the battle.

  The bloody-clawed crab was on top of him, and he continued his roll to slip past its double-pincher thrust.

  These things are faster than I thought.

  He took a precious moment to take in the battle. Half of his warriors were dead or near it, and the other half were still engaging the remaining eight crabs.

  Thirty warriors to stop less than half of these things. We are nearly evenly matched, except my best still stand.

  Feeling confident, he popped to standing, coming round to face the crab, the blood of his fallen warriors making crimson rivers on its claws.

  This crab moved far more warrior-like as if it had learned, from its prior battles, how to be more deadly. As it moved, he noted its legs ended with sharp spikes. This crab was using its antennae, as well as its eyes, to track him. It clicked its claws.

  A second crab stepped up to join the first. It taunted him, waving the upper body of Aupli-Niun, which the crab held in its right pincher. If its intention was to make him mad, it worked. Mishia-Ollan felt his blood boil in rage.

  “Whoever you are controlling these things, we will find you and destroy you for this outrage!”

  The crab tossed the remains of his tactical officer aside like trash and jumped at him, claws opened wide. Mishia-Ollan spun aside and cut off one of the claws, bringing his other odassi down on the head region. His second blade didn’t do much, as the arched armor allowed no purchase for his blade, which simply slipped to the side.

  Have to hit the shell precisely to do damage.

  The first crab stopped quivering and turned to face him, rising up.

  Three!

  Knowing what that rising up meant, Mishia-Ollan dodged to the right and then ran at the second crab, as a blast of light shot past where he had been a moment before. Letting the power flow through him, he jumped over the crab. He landed cleanly, spun, and thrust his blades against the smooth shell armor. His hit was aligned to not slip. His blades speared the armor as planned, sinking, up to the hilts, into the creature.

  Lightning came out of the two wounds, arcing along his blades to him, as well as flitting across the shell of the creature. His muscles tightened uncontrollably as his skin burned, but he managed to hang onto his odassi. The lightning played over the creature, its legs shooting out to the sides in the painful throes of death. Moving through the pain, he placed his foot on the shell and pulled with all his strength, yanking the swords out of the creature, and flinging himself backwards.

  The second crab had turned and leapt around the dying crab. It swung its huge pincher at him. His muscles were still tingling from whatever had come out of that crab. He was too slow, and the large claw batted him into the air, towards the other crab. He felt his ribs breaking, and his lung was pierced by the bones as he rolled away. As he came to a stop, he saw the bloody pincher of the other crab dropping down, grabbing his neck, and with a painful snap, he knew his head had been severed from his body.

  Mishia-Ollan opened his mouth to scream but heard nothing, because his lungs were no longer attached. His head rolled a few feet before landing on its side. He knew he was dead, but he forced himself to keep his eyes open. He could see almost all of his warriors were bloody piles, littering the grounds.

  Not far away, three of the crabs were attacking Hiri-Rula, who was using both magic and swords to fight them off. She was magnificent, and he smiled through the pain. She was using all of the power of their outpost to hold a personal shield against the creatures, and her odassi glowed with added power she channeled to them.

  Hiri-Rula moved with grace as she sliced any arm or leg from a crab that presented itself. His vision finally faded as death took him. You’ll make a good colonel. If you live, avenge me with honor!

  The leader’s dead eyes didn’t see the shiny, purple dragonfly land in front of his face. It stepped over and touched his cheek with its feelers, its wings drooping. Turning, it watched as the crabs finished off the remaining warriors. The wizard was the last to fall, her shields overwhelmed, her body hammered by the precise strikes of three crabs.

  The dragonfly jumped into the air as the wizard fell, flying over to her body. A pure white seagull landed by the wizard’s face as the dragonfly landed on her body. The seagull bent down, using its head to push the wizard’s head to the side, exposing her mouth. Once her mouth was exposed, four black beetles landed next to her and held their elytra open as little rivers of silver poured from their abdomens, into the wizard’s mouth. As the last of the silver substance finished pouring from a beetle, it took flight again. The dragonfly lowered itself, so the tips of its antennae touched the wizard’s neck just below her jaw line. The seagull stood by, watching the movements around.

  A crab snipped the copper necklace from around her neck and held it out for the seagull to swallow. The seagull hopped up on top of the wizard’s back and made itself comfortable, watching.

  A new crab walked through the yard, heading for a door to the base, as the surviving crabs used some netting to collect all the fallen parts of their comrades. The new crab broke into the base as the remaining crabs carried off the bodies and net of crab parts.

  The dragonfly sat on the wizard for some time, stroking her cheek with its feelers. A rumble came from somewhere deep inside of the base. Dust blew out of the broken main door.

  The sun moved through the sky, yet the dragonfly did not move, except to brush the cheek of the wizard. The seagull would, from time to time, eye the dragonfly, then the girl, and then return to scanning the surrounding area.

  The wizard suddenly coughed and moaned. With one last gentle stroke of her cheek, the dragonfly leapt into the air and flew off. The seagull called out a farewell cry to the dragonfly, but remained. As the day moved on, carrion birds started coming in. The seagull sat on the wizard like a king. If any carrion bird approached, it stood, spreading its wings and screaming a challenge which no bird took, considering the vast feast available without a fight.

  Hiri-Rula’s mouth was dry and dusty. Dozens of aches and pains made it hard to think. The sun was beating down on her. She groaned and felt something small move off her back. Opening her eyes, she found she was lying on her side in the dirt. Her right cheek was compressed by the rocks and sand, while
her left cheek burned with the double pains of a deep cut and sunburn.

  The sick and musty odor of the dead assaulted her nose with every breath. Even worse, she could taste the scent in her mouth.

  We lost! Who did this?

  She rolled onto her back, feeling the fractured bones and strained muscles complaining. A breeze brought more of the awful smell of the dead, including the burned, rotten-pork odors from some of the bodies that had been killed by those magical blasts.

  I wonder how many still live.

  Hiri-Rula concentrated, forcing a trance state to allow her to examine her injuries. She had more than a dozen ripped tendons and numerous bone fractures, especially in her left leg and three ribs. Fortunately, the fractures were hairline, or incomplete. She sighed with a note of relief.

  Nothing extraordinarily serious. Still, there is enough that I will die if I don’t get proper attention soon. I need to heal.

  Concentrating, she tried to pull energy from the Nhia-Samri power, but there was no power to have. She forced herself to sit up and look around. Bodies were everywhere, and worse, a mere ten feet from her, eyes still open and looking at her, was the head of Colonel Mishia-Ollan. It was more than she could take. What little was in her stomach came up and out. The smell of her own vomit was added to the odors of the yard. She tried to clean her face and wipe some of the vomit off with her bruised left hand, her right arm being traumatized to the point of being useless until it healed.

  Standing up was impossible. Realizing she needed shade, and more importantly, water, she started the long, painful crawl through the bodies and drying blood, to the barrack kitchens entry. After what felt like marks, she reached the kitchen building.

  Her vision focused so tightly on her destination, she didn’t see the white seagull that had watched her journey from a nearby roof. She also didn’t see the sudden motion as the seagull launched into the air, heading northeast, as she pulled herself up to the kitchen door.

  The door was never locked, and pushing through, into the interior, felt like stepping onto a high mountain ice field. Close to the door was a large water pump for the larger chores. She propped herself up under the spout and rolled to get enough leverage to move the pump. Lifting the long handle was like lifting a building. The pain in her shoulder and ribs caused her to see red rings as she pushed with her one good arm.

  Screaming at the pain, she managed to lift it almost halfway, which was enough. She held on tight, letting gravity and the weight of her arm pour some water over her head. As the last of the water came, she tilted her head back and swallowed as much as she could, before passing out again.

  Sometime later, Hiri-Rula opened her eyes. Dozens of wounds and bruises called for attention.

  Not a dream. It all happened. How long have I been out?

  She felt better, although she was completely dry, except for her own sweat. Reaching for the power, again, she found none. Her hand climbed its way up her chest to feel around her neck.

  It’s gone! They took my key to the power. I have to use the old style of wizardry.

  She recalled her lessons from long ago about seeking and drawing power from the mana lines. Magic flowed around the planet from the Gods in channels like rivers. Except some of it was buried in the earth, some in water, some through the air, and yet more flowed through the fires of the planet, deep below. It took power to find these magic rivers, and even more power to draw. Compared to the Nhia-Samri ways, it was primitive.

  I have almost nothing remaining. But I need it. Please be enough, or I’m already dead.

  She let her mind fly as she reached out to find magic. The precious magic she had left diminished as she sought desperately for a mana line.

  I should have done this long ago. Then I wouldn’t have to waste power trying to find it. I’m dying! Please, LORDS, help me!

  Desperation caused Hiri-Rula to concentrate harder. At last, she felt it. Off in the far distance, a mana line flowing through the air glowed with all she needed. She grabbed onto it, pulling power from it and channeling it to herself. The power was far, and it took the last of her power to pull the magic to her. Once she got the first flare of power into her system, she had the magic to draw more until she felt light and airy throughout.

  This is raw magic, nothing like the powers I’m used to. I’ve never used raw elemental energies. This feels fantastic!

  With the replenished power, she could heal, and she began to work through her pains, casting incantations to restore her body to health. She started with her mind, and a simple pain reduction incantation to help her to concentrate. Although she was healing, she needed food. The magic could only speed up her natural systems. If she was working on another, she could make the magic manifest as real bone and tissue, but doing it to herself in this condition was an ill-conceived idea. Crawling around the kitchens, she found some fruits that were still fresh and ate her fill. Then she crawled back to the water pump to drink all she could.

  This time, Hiri-Rula made herself somewhat comfortable, using burlap sacks for a pillow, before falling asleep while her incantations worked with her body to restore her health.

  The light penetrated her brain, and she rubbed her eyes as she woke. She felt weak, and there were still aches and pains, but she was able to stand up. She made another meal and refreshed her healing incantations. After she drank more water, she felt well enough to investigate.

  Stepping outside into the late day’s sun, Hiri-Rula used some incantations to keep the air around her fresh, knowing that the odors of the yard would make her sick, and she needed to keep the food in her. Carrion birds leapt into the air as she walked into the courtyard.

  The carnage was worse than anything she had ever experienced or expected.

  I have read of battlefields littered with bodies, but those descriptions do not begin to tell this tale.

  Hiri-Rula wept, looking at the torn and tattered bodies, some of which had already started to bloat in death. Using all her training to concentrate, regardless of the circumstances, she walked around, assessing and counting the dead. When she came to one body, she paused. It was too familiar. Her mind found it hard to identify, because the eyes had been pecked out, and some of the face, already eaten.

  Itan-Ammi. Oh, Lords, it’s Ammi. Beautiful, happy Ammi. WHY? WHY? Hiri-Rula’s emotions boiled over. She dropped by her friend’s body, weeping uncontrollably. She screamed at the heavens, calling out Ammi’s name. Curling into a ball, she lay down next to her friend.

  “Oh, Ammi, did you follow my command to run and got killed leaving? Or did you try to stay and fight? How can I tell Itan-Tulni his wife and unborn child are dead under my command? I should have made sure you and the other pregnant girls were clear. I have failed as a commander and friend.”

  Hiri-Rula stood, tears flowing as she counted. Sixty-one dead. I am the only survivor. None were spared. I have to report this, but before I leave, I have duties to perform.

  She went back to the kitchen and found some towels and large buckets. Filling the buckets with fresh water, she stepped out into the shaded patio of the kitchens. Reaching out to the air mana line, she tapped it and brought the power to herself. She raised her hands and created an incantation that, in her mage sight, snaked out with dozens of tendrils into the yard. The tendrils found the odassi blades and lifted them into the air. Blade after blade floated to her.

  Grabbing the first blade, Hiri-Rula was shocked to feel that it had almost no power left. Only a minor spark of energy remained. She wiped the blade with a dampened towel until it was clean and then polished it dry with another towel. Reaching out, she plucked the next odassi from the air, feeling that it, like the first, had lost almost all its power.

  All that we were is dying.

  Hiri-Rula continued to work on blade after blade. It took several marks, and when the sun went down, she made a globe of light to illuminate her work.

  When she finished, 122 odassi blades were stacked with care on the deck of the kitchen,
and her own odassi were cleaned and sheathed in her belt. Standing, she drew her blades, feeling their weight for the first time. Like the others, their magical attributes were depleted, but for a spark.

  What could do this? These are keyed to our boundless powers. Unless we are all cut off intentionally due to some dishonor?

  The thought of being dishonored caused her stomach to tighten.

  No, we cannot be dishonored. We acted by the code. There must be another explanation. Maybe I can feed them.

  She pulled more mana from the far-off line and sought the power conduits of her own blades. Inspecting them, she found the channels for power and their mix of incantations. She fed magic to a few of them, feeling the blades react. The blades reached out and pulled power from her at a tremendous rate.

  Panic raced through Hiri-Rula’s mind as she realized the magic she had and was pulling from the mana line was not enough. The blades needed more power than she could imagine necessary for their purposes. She fought her own blades for control of her magic channels. The blades reacted not like simple devices, but more like semi-intelligent creatures. They twisted and sought alternative channels to her powers. She had to throw them to the ground to break her physical connection to them, to prevent them from taking all the magic she had.

  Hiri-Rula sat down and stared at her own blades, using her magical sight, watching them reach out with tendrils of power much like her own channeling tendril, connecting her to the mana line far off. The tendrils snaked around and latched onto other blades, where there was a sudden struggle, and her blades, having more power, sucked the remaining power from the other blades. The blade that was robbed of its power screamed out, as if in pain, and the copper band with the maker’s mark snapped.

  Her heart raced and adrenaline pumped through her system, letting her crabwalk backwards, avoiding her blades’ seeking tendrils. Shivers ran down her spine as each odassi was located and its power stolen to the sound of dying screams and snapping copper bands.