Dust

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Dust Page 21

by J R Devoe


  I cast my gaze across my gathered cousins, many of whom know they are not fighters but refuse to sit back and weaken the numbers of their rising kin. Yet uncertainty still plagues their eyes.

  “But there are no single sparks here,” I say. “Should we fall on this day, then we shall fall together, four thousand sparks who let their light shine bright against the darkness of a tyrant. Each of us will go into the Dark bright as a raging firestorm, and from our glow the darkness shall retreat. Our arrival in the Dark will be a flash as big and bright as the moment of Creation itself, and from our flames the darkness shall retreat.”

  Captivated eyes watch me, ears twitching as they absorb my every word.

  “Our story will spread across the galaxies,” I say, “to the ears of the desperate and oppressed. And when they cry out in defiance, using our names as their own rally call to freedom…when our acts here fan the flames of rebellion in their hearts, then so too shall our sparks glow all the brighter. The Dark shall hear of our deeds and retreat from our light. Wherever we go as one, darkness shall die. Death to us is death to Darkness.”

  “Death to us is death to Darkness,” a few murmur.

  A massive shadow darkens the faces watching me. Heads tilt skyward. I follow their stricken stares to a swarm of black dots bearing down on us like a meteor shower of terror. Steel from a thousand conquered planets glint at the forward edge of this tide of darkness, weapons wielded by the enemy of all that is good and light.

  “So many,” Jinny says in awe, forgetting herself.

  “Fear not the Dark, sisters,” I say. This is the biggest army any Watcher has ever commanded, and it is that which allows me to believe my own words. For one thing is clear now: “It is the Dark that fears you.”

  Jinny's gaze meets mine briefly, and when it shifts back to our enemy in the sky beyond, there is something different about her stare. Something that once was there is now missing… I can’t quite place exactly what, because it's only faint at first.

  Then, when her eyes narrow and her lips twist in anger, I see it—all the scenes playing in her mind, memories she’d had to swallow down and bury in the darkness within her.

  She's remembering the faces of her dead Fori sisters, murdered for not working hard enough when already worked half to death…

  She's thinking of every time a Watcher whipped her bloody…

  She's thinking of living her entire life in fear, constantly shaking at the sight of those two-winged devils who wreak terror upon our kind…

  She’s thinking of endless lifetimes of servitude for simply being born with the wrong combination of genes…

  And when her jaw clenches and she bares her teeth, I know she could be thinking of nothing other than the time a Watcher took a hammer and smashed every bone in her left leg so bad that she'd never walk right again.

  A growl rises from deep within her. Behind it is all the anger and hate she'd had to suppress for lifetimes of injustices boiling from her darkest depths, steaming in her chest and up her throat until it blasts out her mouth with all the force of a volcanic eruption.

  She raises her axe and unleashes the fiercest battle cry I ever did hear. It’s so loud and intense that her axehead nearly shakes loose from its handle, and the scream rattles me so deep that I almost fall back from my perch.

  Then she leaps into the sky without looking back. And she is far from alone.

  Everyone in sight rises from the forest like sparks from a wildfire, every one of them screaming and howling, many a heart proudly hammering away its final beats. Better to die in a moment of defiance than to live an eternity in servitude.

  Remarkably, our fighters fall into perfect formations as we rise into the sky to meet our enemy—two hundred arrowheads making up a jagged line. And try as I might, I cannot catch up to Jinny to take the point. This is her moment. And what a moment it is. If it turns out to be her last, it will be the most glorious of any Fori who’d ever lived.

  Being much faster flyers, the Aeri make up the Black Tide’s forward ranks, with the main Watcher force following some distance behind. Jinny flies straight at their middle with her axe heaved back and ready to swing.

  The Aeri before her slow their flight. By their stricken stares, something behind us frightens them.

  When I steal a look over my shoulder, I see we are more than the four thousand recovered from Jexa’s dark, or even the seven thousand who had rallied at the pyramids. Behind, all the way to the west as far as I can see, a tidal wave of winged figures rises into the sky. It had started nearest us, with the swell now halfway to the horizon, so far back they are black specks against the midday sky. Tens of thousands of forest folk who had sat out the fight until Jexa opened the gate finally see we were not crazed warmongers.

  This massive upheaval brings feathered flyers, too. Murders of crows and lone eagles join the surge, with sparrows and hummingbirds in the mix, as if they know the consequences that shall accompany our defeat.

  I turn back in time to see Jinny ram into the Aeri forward line. She disappears through the front rank in an explosion of grey feathers.

  Holding my spear horizontally before me, I infuse the shaft with my highest frequency, put my head down, and brace for impact.

  A sudden brunt and locking of my elbows tells me when I’ve made contact. I keep my head down and plow through, leaving behind clouds of sizzling dust until I punch out through the rear rank.

  A stream of Fori slip through the clear corridor in my wake and emerge behind the Aeri. Though, getting behind our feather-winged cousins isn’t necessary to get the better of them.

  The Aeri wield Watcher weapons awkwardly, fumbling them in the havoc of battle as we smash apart their lines. They break easily against the raving mad swarm that has risen from the darkness of oppression, those pushed too hard for too long who finally lost their good sense. They’re a nice warm up for our squadrons as their high-flying egos shatter against our grit.

  I swing my spear wide and catch several Aeri in their flight. My vibrations are perfect. Each body explodes into a hundred trillion particles, adding to a cloud of sizzling dust that grows around me. The Aeri quickly lose interest in me, so I hover in place shouting orders for our straying squadrons to return to the larger formation, because diving across the open sky toward the melee are the Watchers. And they are a different story.

  Their diamond formations slip into the battle without much of a clash. Yet their presence is immediately felt when Fori drop like flies to the desert ground. Most of my falling kin don’t try to stop their fall, suggesting they’ve suffered fatal wounds by the passing enemy. The Watchers zoom about in their formations of four and cut up even our tightest groups with an elegance gained only from lifetimes of practice. But we need not defeat them. Only break through.

  Through the hurricane of buzzing wings and glinting steel, I see Jexa has left only a dozen Watchers atop the pyramid to guard the Capstone. It’s tempting, and though I see many openings, I cannot abandon the fight up here. We match the Watcher numbers, but we’re outmaneuvered in flight and skill. The Watchers also lack the fear that had broken the Aeri.

  A Watcher alpha leads her diamond formation into a downward swoop toward me. I sweep left, leaving my spear across her path, and turn her swinging sword to dust. Her squadron bursts apart like atoms from a broken molecule, each seeking an easier target.

  My satisfaction lasts only a few heartbeats. Looking down, my heart sinks. Fori litter the sand below, with more dropping in a steady shower for their final rest. The wounded scream for help. A few Watchers fall with them, but it seems by mere luck that a small group of Fori are able to isolate and slay one.

  In the sky, we are too scattered.

  I study the Watcher tactic. They aren’t trying to wipe us out in droves, merely attacking targets of opportunity. Then I see why.

  Over the pyramid’s apex, from the shimmering white bulb in the blue sky, clusters of winged figures now fall in the hundreds. Watchers from who knows what
worlds, eager to come join Jexa’s campaign of terror. The worst of the worst. The real Black Tide.

  But they are muddled when they arrive. They glide away from the pyramids, disoriented and confused, swinging wildly at the air with no targets near. Jexa is forced to abandon her front line of defence to round them up. Something I see she’d not been expecting by her frustrated shouting.

  A Fori flies straight back into me. When we hit, she spins and tries to take my head off with her axe. I catch her wrist and stop her mid-swing. When her frazzled eyes see me, she gasps and offers me an apologetic look.

  “Grab hold of my leg and don’t let go,” I tell her.

  She grabs my ankle, and when I set off, she holds on for dear life. I fly in search of lone Fori and, seeing my intent, the Fori dangling from my leg uses her free hand to snatch one of her sisters flying in our direction. The line on my left leg grows by one.

  I weave through the fray, picking up stray Fori and adding them as links to my left and right leg. Each Fori grips an ankle in one hand, a weapon in the other. Soon the chain streaming from each of my legs is dozens long.

  I lead my ragtag squadron north, picking up more Fori as we fly. They cling to this formation for dear life as I steer us left, away from the pyramids, to avoid the Anomaly. I bring us back around, swerving in a figure eight to gather more of our flyers. In my first pass we have grown large enough that the smaller Watcher squadrons scatter at the sight of us.

  When I’ve rounded a company of nearly a thousand, we begin hunting the bigger Watcher formations. They flee from us like frightened prey, scattering far and wide, which infuriates me.

  “Stand your ground!” I shout at them, tauntingly.

  Then I see it’s not us they’re escaping.

  “Nya!”

  I look back down the stream extending from my left leg and see Ko Tora dangling near the end. She points toward the Great Pyramid, where a colossal arrowhead of Jexa’s newly-arrived Watchers sweeps toward our stretched lines.

  The sight almost drops me from the sky. That arrowhead, led by Jexa herself, must be five thousand strong!

  Every Watcher around us scatters. They can’t get away fast enough, and for good reason. Flying down at a forty-five degree angle, Jexa’s second wave will drive us right into the ground. Even with numerous stray Fori flying up to reinforce my group, the arrowhead sweeping toward us outnumber us five to one.

  We don’t have the luxury of fleeing, for our enemy have too much momentum and will catch us easily, and in retreat we’ll make easy targets. Our only hope is to break them up.

  I turn to square myself with Jexa and shout, “Wedge!”

  Sloppy lines form back at angles to my left and right, with Fori sliding in behind me to fill in the space between both battle wings. Too many cram into the middle, which forces the sides of our wedge to flare out into a bulging triangle. This creates a blunted point, but there’s no time to sharpen our ranks. Jexa is so close I can see the vertical slits in her eyes dilating—a few quick breaths away.

  Time slows. The sound of my heart thuds lazily in my ears. Thud…thud… …Thud…thud…

  Spear tips reach forward in my peripheral, in slow motion, with a few over my shoulder from the Fori behind me. I hold mine out in front and aim the tip between Jexa’s eyes.

  She lines her spear with my belly and bares her teeth.

  My spear shaft rattles with a vibration I cannot control, and if it were made from a material lesser than whatever this metal of my homeworld is, it would have burst into dust by now.

  Screams and howls of defiance rise up from behind me. Locking eyes with Jexa, I scream so loud my throat feels raw. It’s a steady yell, because I dare not let up before Jexa hits us in a few quick heartbeats.

  Jexa lacks my commitment to our stare down. Just before slamming into us, something calls her attention upward and to her right. Her eyes flash wide in alarm, and she shields her face while dropping from formation.

  Half a blink later, a meteor shower rains down upon the Watcher wedge at a forty-five degree angle. The lone objects punch through the formation with flashes of blinding light. Only, they can’t be meteors, because when they emerge underneath, each swerves upward and hits the Watcher ranks from below. Some blast through and rise above Jexa’s wedge, but most remain in the thick of the hoard, where flashes of light bust apart Jexa’s neat ranks.

  The howling that had risen behind me in anticipation settles. As my army watches this counterattack in awe, I hear familiar sounds rise from within the Watcher wedge—steel and flesh exploding to dust.

  “Dust maidens!” someone shouts from my rear.

  My heart leaps into a joyful dance.

  As Jexa rises with her back to me, I’d love to see the look on her face as she watches my Entropath siblings tear up her grand arrowhead. Her ranks shatter from within with blasts of yellow light, but it’s the demise of the rear rank that’s most impressive. Flying in from the side, a pair of dust maidens pull a long chain tight and sweep sideways through that widest rank. A rolling flash obliterates a quarter of the line before the rest scatter.

  Jexa has seen enough. She points her spear at a lone dust maiden at the fringe and shouts, “After them! Kill them all!”

  This is when I’m hit by the surprise of a lifetime. Rather than follow Jexa’s order, the Watchers hesitate. Instead, they allow these solo flyers to move freely, with a good many actually retreating from them.

  I spot the leader of our mighty allies wreaking havoc in the middle of the broken arrowhead. She wears an antler crown of black diamond and, like her followers, a thick band of black paint covers her eyes, with swirling runes marking her arms. Two Watchers join shields and take a dive at her. She swings her golden hammer—yellow inlaced with white—and when it hits the platinum plates, both shields and their bearers explode into dust. Their momentum reverses in a stream of atomic particles and sizzling light.

  I watch in amazement as my scattered Entropath sisters turn Watchers to dust with their blunted weapons. Pride swells in me as our enemy fall into diamond formations and flee. A few of Jexa’s fearless even cry out in terror. Imagine that…Watchers, actually afraid! In the thick of the Watcher storm, the dust maidens don’t bother to even stay in pairs. They veer away on their own, chasing Watchers, and any who come near are quickly frightened away with a swing of their weapons.

  But not all are so lucky. A few Watchers manage to grab hold of a dust maiden and slit her throat. My blood goes cold as she falls to the ground.

  I point my spear at the battle and shout, “Reinforce the dust maidens!”

  Wind from a thousand sets of wings tousles my hair as my Fori warriors rush to rejoin the fight. Each dust maiden quickly gains a following. They whiz about fearlessly, smashing apart shields and weapons, leaving Watchers defenceless against the Fori spears that follow.

  It’s too much for our enemy. They fall back in droves toward the Great Pyramid, landing with little grace at the edge of the Anomaly. Many are too hurt to make the run to the moat, and the sight of Watchers carrying their wounded brings a smile to my face.

  “A beautiful sight, isn’t it,” says a voice from behind.

  To my left, the Entropath Elder appears in my peripheral. Her crown of black antlers resembles polished stone in the sunlight.

  Normally Ko Skadia’s presence would unsettle me. Here, I smile in greeting.

  She frowns in return. “I must say, Nya, I’m offended it took you so long to invite us to your rebellion.”

  “I knew you’d hear the chaos and come rushing in,” is my response, and I’m surprised at the lightness in my voice.

  She smirks and returns her attention to the ground, where hundreds of Watchers scramble toward the pyramid. A quick survey of the sky reveals it now belongs to us, with only a few unlucky Watchers cut off from the retreat.

  But our fight is far from over. From the portal, more Watchers fall in clumps.

  “We need to close the gate before enough arrive to
take back the sky,” I say.

  Ko Skadia nods toward the enemy regrouping before the Great Pyramid, in front of the moat bridge. “You ever dust Watcher bones?” my Elder asks.

  Come to think of it, I haven’t. So I shake my head.

  Ko Skadia gives me a devious grin and says, “Well, lucky you. The Marshal of Watchers will make a fine start.”

  28

  —

  NYA

  I TIME MY DESCENT so I touch down before the foot of the causeway. Many Fori land with me, but the dust maidens arrive with less grace. They’re encountering the Anomaly for the first time since our hazy arrival on this planet, so many crash into the sand. Those who manage to land on their feet end up stumbling, but the Fori rush to help them. Ko Skadia shoves Sheffa away when she tries to help her up.

  To our rear, hundreds of Ori race from the forest to join us. Good. We’ll need every one of them, because standing on the bridge crossing the moat ahead, is Jexa. Her spear shaft glows bright with the many sparks she captured during the battle. But it is not the souls of the dead that raise my caution.

  Several thousand Watchers line up before the moat to either side of the causeway. I see Bercidia the Butcher standing tall in the line to my left, and recognize a few others who, by name alone, inspire fear among my people. Jexa has held back her best fighters to guard the Great Pyramid, and no doubt pride prevents them from using the water trench for defence. They adopt wide fighting stances, each with a javelin cocked back and ready to launch from one hand, and a shorter melee weapon held in front with the other.

  Kassini falls in to my left, with Jinny limping in to take up my right wing. Each wears Aeri feathers in her hair as trophies, with Jinny’s sticking out through the eyes of her blue helmet. And as is with the many Fori rushing up to join us, the orange blood of our allies-turned-enemies is smeared in two-finger streaks across their cheeks.

 

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