by J R Devoe
Now it’s my turn to go on the offensive. “K’lora must have fought well to have risen to Jexa’s right hand,” I add, taking another stab. Never before had a Servant been allowed into the Watcher ranks. For Jaleera, a rising star destined to serve as Deputy Marshal, it must have stung severely to watch a Servant from so low rise above her and steal her place as Jexa’s second-in-command.
Jaleera takes the jab with a smile. “There was no shame in being bested by her. Anyone who saw her fight would tell you that.”
“Who trained her? Was it Jexa herself?”
Jaleera smiles, but the corner of her mouth quivers. “K’lora had a fascination with the races we hunted. She led a double life, studying their combat arts in secret. She’d train with them until the inevitable day that our hit squadrons tracked them down.” Her awkward smile fades. “I’d never seen anyone fight like her. It was the Bo’reni style she’d adopted as the base of her art. It took only a dozen of that race to wipe out a whole company of us, so when K’lora later employed their techniques in her duel with Jexa, Jexa didn’t stand a chance on her own. Her style was so effective that Jexa still spends all her free time meditating over it, reliving the greatest fight of her life, learning from the only being to have bested her. I knew if I didn’t intervene in that fight, I’d inherit the remnants of a defeated army. I know you despise me for that, but I’ve seen how you loathe your mother as well. I deserve your disdain. Your mother does not.”
“I didn’t deserve to be born the heir to a fallen rebellion,” I say, squeezing my spear until my skin squeaks on the shaft. Princess of Ash, they still call me. “She should have picked me or the fight. To think she could have both is what made her the fool.”
“Wars never start at the ideal time for both sides. And your mother wished more than anything to give you a better life, one without the evils spreading from the Dark through Jexa. You’ve heard of her sky serpent?”
I nod.
“That beast fed off the sparks of one hundred civilizations before your mother killed it,” Jaleera says. Even this mighty Watcher before me cannot suppress her shiver. “Those tortured souls trying to escape the darkness of its innards are what gave the beast its fire. The flames from its furnace lungs grew hotter with every vanquished species.” She stares at my spear in reverie. “When a group of Fori resisted Jexa’s order to extend their contracts by fifty planets, Jexa turned the serpent on them. Burned them all in their forest kingdom, three thousand Servants turned to ash with a single blazing breath, and their sparks immediately sucked up in the following inhale. When your mother heard of this, it was the first time I’d seen her cry. They were tears of rage. Blinding, terrible anger so intense that I dared not stand in her way, even though I knew what she may do. You see, for all her greatness, K’lora had the most wicked temper I ever did see. She broke my arm when we were younglings. Never apologized for it.
“Anyway, when the beast retired to slumber that night, K’lora crept into its cave and drove that spear,” Jaleera nods at my weapon, “right through its eye.”
My breath catches. I hold the spear out in front of me and study the shaft’s carvings.
“After the rebellion, Jexa gave me your mother’s spear as a trophy,” says Jaleera, solemnly.
Suddenly the design of twisted knots are images, clear to me now. Its spade tip of wavy red steel—forged from the ore of my home planet—seems to glint brighter in the afternoon light.
I press my cheek to the wood-like metal and close my eyes. To hold and feel something my mother once touched threatens to bring tears to my eyes.
“Your mother didn’t start that war, Nya, but she took the reins. She steered your people toward hope. So long as that serpent roamed the skies, any resistance was doomed to ash. And if you think your treatment by us has been unfair, you cannot imagine what your people endured before the rebellion. K’lora’s uprising was too close for Jexa, and that fear remains in her. She’s taken great effort to avoid stirring the embers too much. But your intervention left her with no choice. Retribution had to be dealt swift and heavy.”
I take a deep breath. All this time I’d thought my mother’s legacy was a fool’s warning. It seems I’ve inherited a rebellion that’s been smoldering in the ashes all along. That’s why so many were quick to answer the call to arms. This has been my fate all along. Is that the real reason they call me Princess of Ash? Is it more than a dig at me and my mother’s failure?
My spine tingles. I twirl the spear with both hands. An energy—my mother’s fire—burns inside the warm metal of our home. It spreads through me, and suddenly I’m surging with her strength.
I take a deep breath and step back from Jaleera. Gripping the spear in both hands, I smile and say, “Let’s fight for blood.”
Jaleera gives me a devious grin. She adopts a fighting stance, but before either of us can make a move, wails of despair rise from the pyramids. She snaps to attention and looks straight up.
The treetops sway westward as flocks of Aeri fly past. Hundreds, perhaps all of them, race away from the pyramids.
I crane my head back to watch the migration with great fascination. Strange, because Jaleera had convinced Ko Tora to not send scouts. Jexa would only capture them and squeeze them for information or ransom.
“Wait!” shouts a Fori in pursuit.
“Come back!” pleads another.
Kassini, whose fighting skills had earned her command of one of our fifty battle groups, finds us at the forest edge. She appears on the verge of tears.
“What happened?” I ask.
“The Aeri chief made an agreement with Jexa,” Kassini says, her frazzled eyes darting all about. “She’ll forgive them for turning on her if they sit out the fight.”
“I guess they weren’t confident in our chances,” says Jaleera, her tone placid and unsurprised.
Sweat slicks my hands. I have to squeeze my spear tighter to maintain my grip. What did the Aeri see from up high that we have not? Maybe they were never really in it with us. They’d likely taken our side for lack of options.
Damn that Jexa… And damn those spineless air heads!
“Come,” Jaleera tells me. “We need to revise our defence plan.”
• • •
Back at the pyramids, Fori and Ori occupy the bottom third levels. They are restless. Despite the loss of our feather-winged Aeri (except for Ko Tora, who Jexa has declared an enemy of the Marshal), most remain confident in our defences and are eager to fight. It was just the shock of so many leaving at once that had caused the panic.
The dust has since settled, and we see clearly that the odds remain in our favor. The nervous anticipation that had started a few days ago has actually turned to impatience.
I walk the causeway across the moat toward the Great Pyramid with Jaleera at my side.
“All this waiting is tiring,” I say. “If Jexa’s plan is to wear us out with boredom, then she’s doing a good job.”
“She’s claimed a few victories with this tactic,” Jaleera says with a contemplative nod. “But aligning the portal to the gateways she desires requires her to do so during the New Moon, when the stars are clearest.”
Well, at least we know her deadline.
“You think she’ll order the Aeri to fight?” I ask. Having the whole lot of them against us would present our greatest challenge. Our finest archers are mediocre at best.
“I’m expecting her to do anything. So should you.”
As we enter the perimeter of the moat, a Fori on the pyramid’s third level points her spear toward the western sky. “Incoming!”
I turn to see a black dot growing larger over the forest. The winged traveler’s course lines up with the causeway on which I stand.
Jaleera steps before me and shields her eyes with a hand to see better. Whatever it is, it’s bad, because her shoulders tense. She instinctively takes a step back and walks right into me.
“What is it?” I say, stepping around her to see.
�
�Jexa.”
I swear the hair on my head must be standing straight up.
Jaleera plants the butt of her spear onto the ground by her foot. “Stay behind me.”
“To arms!” bellows Ko Tora from behind.
Thousands of feet patter over the stone causeway to our rear. Fori and Ori race across the moat and fan out to either side of the walkway, where they form three ranks on the outer bank.
But while they are preparing to fight, I’m expecting trouble of a more subtle nature. Why does Jexa come here alone?
Ko Tora appears between me and Jaleera, but not half a step ahead. And she’s conveniently forgotten her antler crown.
All eyes lock onto the Watcher Marshal nearing the Anomaly’s boundary. Like me, they’re eager to see her crash to the ground. Maybe she’ll land near our battle lines, where some Fori or Ori will get the pounce on her.
We are not so lucky.
Jexa enters the Anomaly and glides to the foot of the causeway, landing in a forward march as if she’s practiced this arrival a thousand times. She makes straight toward us, all the confidence of her victories pushing her forward without restraint.
Even with our outrageous numerical advantage, many in our forward battle line instinctively shuffle back in hopes of fading into the rear ranks.
As Jexa draws near, however, I see she is unarmed. This doesn’t fool the ranks of Servants into lowering their weapons.
Is she bold enough to believe she can come scout our defences unchallenged? Maybe she is testing our reaction time.
Or maybe she’s here for me.
My stomach clenches. What if Jexa challenges me to a duel, with the loser’s side forfeiting the pyramid? That would spare a lot of bloodshed. Though, I doubt my side would allow it, as they know for certain who’d win.
My angst must be visible, because Jaleera places a steadying hand on my shoulder. “Stand your ground, Nya. I’ve seen numerous races accept weakness, but none are kind to cowards.”
I raise my chin and keep my face as neutral as possible.
Jexa stops a stone’s throw from me. I’m expecting her to address Jaleera, to call her out for her betrayal, but she doesn’t spare her former right hand even the slightest glance. Instead, she assesses the ranks of Fori and Ori to either side of us.
She points to someone standing in line to my right. “I see you.”
The Ori quavers back.
Jexa points to a Fori to my right. “And I see you.”
The Fori tries to stand firm, but her arms shake so bad her spear rattles.
Jexa continues pointing out Fori and Ori, seemingly at random. “I see you. I see you, and I see you.” She points a sweeping finger across our ranks. “I see all of you. But my line of sight does not stop here. No,” she says, shaking her head. “Watchers, you call us. And watching we are. I have eyes on every one of your Hives right now. Many of you left benevolent siblings behind. If you do not return to them by first light tomorrow, every one of them will die. Their blood will be on your hands and the suffering of their souls will haunt you until time’s end.”
A wave of unrest ripples down the ranks to either side of me.
“You can spare them that fate,” Jexa says. “Throw down your weapons and abandon this sacred site, and I’ll forget you ever stood against me.”
Harsh whispers rise from our ranks and suggest a few are shaken by Jexa’s threat. The Marshal is peeling away the layers of our defences, one group at a time. Though many Hives have traveled here in their entirety, we cannot afford to lose those who’ve left their pacifist kin behind.
I step forward. Jaleera grabs my wrist, but I twist it free. Jexa locks eyes with me and smirks.
My intent in coming forward was to accuse her of deceit, but now that I’m front and center, I see my words are better directed elsewhere.
I turn my back to her. Many an eye flare wide at this act of disrespect toward the Marshal of Watchers. I point behind me, where I know she is watching, fuming at my insolence.
“She is the mother of trickery,” I say. “You all know this. By leaving here you’ll not only soften our defences, but you’ll leave yourselves vulnerable to her nets. She will throw you right back into chains and force you to move the Capstone against us.”
I look over my shoulder to see she is watching, her eyes narrowed, lips curled in disdain.
I give her a smile and return my attention to the ranks of Fori and Ori stretching out to my left and right. “This is the only chance you will ever get to make a stand. What you face by leaving is far worse than the fate you risk by staying. Dying here in an act of defiance is better than an eternity of servitude. And make no mistake, cousins, that’s the best you could ever expect from Jexa. When she unleashes the Black Tide, there’s a good chance you’ll be the first to drown in its darkness.”
“I heard similar words from a dust maiden,” says Jexa from behind, “a long time ago. You all know what happened to her and the fools who followed her. How many of these good Servants will you lead to their deaths, daughter of K’lora?”
My fists clench and my ears burn. I keep my face hard and my chin held high.
Thousands of heads in the ranks before me turn slowly leftward, tracking Jexa as she paces behind me.
“You all heard the extent of my mercy after that rebellion,” Jexa says, “and how I reward loyalty. Until recently, I, too, was a servant, forced to do the Councilry’s bidding. Now that I’ve freed myself of their control, I have the power to send everyone who supports my rise back to their homes.”
This offer has many an eye before me opening wide in surprise. Some quickly acknowledge the lie, but a good many seem eager to fool themselves into thinking Jexa will keep this absurd promise.
“Sit back and let me guide you to freedom,” Jexa says with outstretched arms, “or follow the fool’s heir to eternal darkness.”
Thunder rumbles in the east and to the west. Then in the south. A clap to the north, over the sea, almost makes me jump.
“You have until midnight to decide,” Jexa says. “Any fools who remain should spend their final days taking in the scenery. You’ll be seeing a whole lot of nothing when I feed your souls to the Dark.”
I turn to see Jexa take flight. When I about-face to look upon my fighting force, the three neat ranks are already collapsing into groups as cohorts huddle for discussion.
“Everyone, across the moat!” shouts Ko Tora. She’s desperate to keep everyone contained, but none are quick to respond. “Group leaders, on me!”
Only a few peel away from their cohorts to join her.
“This is not good,” says Jaleera. She scans the murmuring clusters of Fori and Ori. “You’ve already lost some, I see it in their eyes.”
“Then they were never really here to begin with,” I say, thinking of the Aeri who joined us only for lack of a better option. “They’ll only weaken the chain in our defence.”
Jaleera gives me an impressed smirk. “A refreshing point of view.”
• • •
We don’t have to wait long to see the first takers of Jexa’s offer. She is still a dot over the forest horizon when the first dozen Fori flee to the safety of the trees. They leave without announcement and fly low, hoping to slip away without anyone noticing, but their departure draws boos and scolding shouts from the remaining defenders.
Though, some remaining Fori hug themselves and shirk away, plagued by inner conflict.
Black clouds close in on us from the north sea and the forested south. I smell moisture in the air. Lots of it. Soon we’ll be shivering in the rain, cut off from the sun’s rays, our wings wet and useless even beyond the Anomaly’s boundary.
The group disappearing into the forest will not be the first to leave. The question is: how many more will abandon us?
I watch nervously from the bridge as lone Fori pace the picket line with their heads hung and muttering in self-debate, while groups huddle in heated counsel.
“We need the dust maidens,”
says Jaleera.
“I told you already: they won’t join us.”
“Did you tell them what’s at stake?”
I suspect Jaleera knows I’m lying about having tried to recruit my Entropath siblings, and that she is trying to drive home the consequences of our failure. As if I don’t already know.
“Our assured destruction?” I say. “You know who you’re talking about? They’re not like me. The idea of destroying everything excites them.”
“We need only a handful of your sisters to turn the tide in our favor. Jexa knows the strength of your kind. It’s why she keeps you all separated.”
“Then go get them,” I say, my voice ablaze.
“I’m a Light One. They’ll never trust me.”
“You stand a better chance than me. Ko Skadia was lucky to escape punishment for following my mother. Jexa will not spare her a second time if we fail. Besides, they have it good now. It’s in their best interest to keep Jexa in power. They won’t risk losing what they have for an uncertain future.”
“You have to try, Nya.”
I face Jaleera and stare her down. “You don’t think we can win,” I say. “Admit it. You only want them here to destroy the Capstone.”
“We need a backup plan.”
“No, we don’t. We need to keep the Watchers from climbing this pyramid. We do that or we die trying. There’s no other option.”
Shouts of outrage and wails of despair rise from within the moat as a group numbering in the dozens—maybe even a hundred—peels away from the line. They fly low toward the trees.
“Cowards!” I shout, my disappointment flashing to rage.
As they disappear into the western forest, I have no doubt we’ll lose many more in the dark of night.
21
—
NYA
THE RAIN HOLDS off until exactly midnight. Not a single drop slips through to warn of the downpour so that, when it dumps on us, the ice-cold water shocks me. It pounds down so hard and heavy it feels like I’m standing under a waterfall.
Deserters use the downpour and the dark to slip away, but we see them in the flashes of lightning, their backs to us in their dash toward the forest. Ko Tora had posted her most loyal followers to guard the causeway in hopes of keeping everyone contained within the moat, but in no time the torrential downpour has raised the moat’s water level high enough for those who can swim to cross.