Metal Mage 13

by Eric Vall

  “It is,” Aurora replied. “I’ll get fires going for the troops while I touch base with Dorinick and figure out what to do, but your Boms fell into Rausch Loch. They were trying to protect us from the mages when the ice broke, and we lost them.”

  “I’ll take care of it, but for now, we need to make sure our troops get out of here in one piece,” I told her as I grabbed Shoshanne’s hand.

  “They will,” the half-elf assured me. “Be careful, though. These mages are using their powers without reserve, and you can’t have any magic left after… whatever all this was.”

  I just nodded since I didn’t have time to explain what I didn’t understand anyways, and I led Shoshanne to Deya before I helped her up and patted the black dragon’s scales.

  “Haul ass, ladies,” I told the two women. “We shouldn’t risk throwing many of those orbs around in the jungle, and it can’t be long before the Master sends out his fire titans. Get the troops to destroy every portal. Then send them back to Falmount, but the wounded should head for the infirmary at the Oculus, and then our infirmary once they’re full there.”

  “Yes, Mason,” the healer replied, and Deya vaulted into the wind to let it carry her south even faster.

  Shoshanne kept looking back at me until she was out of sight, but Aurora was already running down the pass as she called for Dorinick among the soldiers.

  I climbed up onto Rammstein’s back as soon as the healer was gone, but before we took off, I tapped my chest and squinted downward.

  “Stan?” I tried. “Are you still holding out, buddy?”

  The little metal man slowly emerged above the rim of my armor, and as he just stared up at me, I sensed he was warring with as much confusion as me right now.

  “I take it you were with me for all of that?” I guessed, and Stan nodded. “Yeah… I’ve got nothing for this one. Let’s just stay the course. You ready to hunt down some possessed assholes and save Orebane?”

  The little metal man saluted, and I grinned as he hunkered down again. Then I gave Rammstein the order, and the metal dragon lurched into the air.

  My body ached with cold as the arctic wind pummeled us along with a cascade of ice shards, but I was more determined than ever to finish this attack. We’d fought too hard to let the Master come out on top after everything our troops had endured, so as I led Rammstein along the cliff’s edge to try and find a less windy path, I sent my powers outside myself and scanned for miles along the valley floor.

  Vasdor wound its way north and west through rugged and uninhabited terrain, and a few frozen rivers crossed its path here and there along with two train tracks. As long as the minions hadn’t made it to the capital yet, there was a good chance they wouldn’t find anyone to recruit into the Master’s regime out here, but my concern heightened as I found no sign of them for several miles.

  Without knowing how much time had passed, I couldn’t guess how far away they would have travelled by now, but I didn’t doubt they’d continue charging ahead regardless of the storm. The Master’s rune would keep them throttling onward to take the Elders out, and the thought made me brace myself lower against the dragon’s back as I ordered him to speed up.

  I didn’t think it was possible to feel any colder at this point, but the longer we flew north, the worse it got. Part of me wished I’d flown Deya up here just so her scales could keep the hypothermia at bay, but I knew it would have endangered her.

  Hundreds of mages were somewhere in this valley, and if one of them could asphyxiate me, I didn’t want to imagine what all of them could achieve. So, I kept scanning and rescanning the path ahead while I began to feel groggier, and I couldn’t feel my body anymore.

  Even my tongue was going numb now, but as I fought to remain conscious, Rammstein soared out of Vasdor into an open glade.

  On the other side of the barren clearing, the spires of Aurum pierced the clouds while the storm raged around them, and less than a mile from the gates, a swarm of soldiers ran at full bore.

  “There,” I croaked as I connected with Rammstein’s gem.

  The metal dragon slowed his wings as I ordered him to be as stealthy as possible, but I couldn’t do anything about the ice battering his steel frame. All I could do was hope we got close enough to attack before the mages realized we were after them, and as the gap between us and the soldiers closed, I could hear the small group of guards on the battlements of Aurum sending up the alarm.

  Bells began clanging in the capital as the soldiers scrambled up the snowy hill to reach the city’s entrance, so I summoned my metal powers to alter the gates of the city and seal them.

  Then several things happened all at once, and I barely managed to finish securing the capital while my lungs emptied, filled with water, nearly popped, and emptied again over and over. The pain finally made me collapse forward as flaming orbs and waves of snow came shooting our direction, but just as my lungs felt like they’d burst at any second, Rammstein reached the mages and parted his jaws.

  I gasped with relief as he spewed green flames along the hillside, and I struggled to get my lungs working properly again while I slumped against the dragon’s frame. Stabbing pain shot through my chest with every breath, and I couldn’t seem to draw enough air in as my rune chanted in my head. I could see the mass of soldiers being eaten up in the inferno below, though, and Rammstein took off after the few who fled back to the glade before they could get away.

  The metal dragon dove and let his flames sear their way across the clearing while my rune eased the pain slicing through my lungs, and as he veered back to douse the blaze, I managed to sit up again.

  Black ash billowed up from the hillside as lightning continued to strike the spires of the capital, but this was the only sign anything had taken place outside Aurum’s gates. Not a scrap of the Master’s soldiers was left behind after Rammstein came through, and as my eyes drooped another degree, I raised a shaky hand to return the gates to their original glory.

  The dwarves on the battlements removed their helms as they stared at me across the glade, but the dragon swiftly turned south, and I was grateful he took off at mach speed to get me out of the frozen north. My rune never stopped chanting during the flight through Vasdor, and I let the leaden weight of its powers drag me down while I willed it to fend off the cold.

  By the time we reached Dorinick’s platoon, I could see more clearly again, and Aurora had started seven giant fires for our troops to gather around behind the rubble of the crater. When the half-elf saw me coming, she waved me on toward the south, and I nodded as I let Rammstein continue toward Nalnora.

  With every minute, the temperature rose by a few degrees until we were back in the pounding rain of the foothills, but I couldn’t stop shaking uncontrollably while my rune chanted nonstop to bring my body back from the brink. Still, I kept my attention on scanning the jungle ahead, and when we soared over the canopy, I could hear the battle had ended here, as well.

  So, I brought Rammstein down at the first tunnel to check out the fallout, and as soon as he hit the ground, Urn came running over the trampled ferns. The burly Terra Mage was bleeding badly from a wound that took out a chunk of meat near his temple, but he looked like he was muscling through okay, and he shook his head when I moved to dismount.

  “We’re good here,” General Urn reported, and he eyed me with deep concern before he continued. “Shoshanne’s been and gone twice. She told me to let you know the portals have all been destroyed, and that General Balmier and the others held out in the south. They’ll be on their way to the train by now, but your healer said you’re on the verge of death. You look it, too. Better get to the infirmary, we’ll see the troops make it back to Falmount.”

  “I’ll be fine,” I assured the mage. “How many casualties?”

  “We’re still checking the field,” Urn replied. “The dwarves are in a bad way, but only ten dead so far. Rhys said his warriors have those strange blades you always carry around, and I guess they help them survive?”


  “They’re runed to prevent the warriors from bleeding until they let go of the hilt,” I explained. “Shoshanne should be returning again once she’s checked on the others, and she can help quicken their healing process.”

  Urn nodded. “Well, our Defenders are all standing thanks to those pistols. The ogres are pretty beat up from the stray bullets, and Shoshanne decided they’ll need to be operated on. They’ve got thick skin, luckily, but the bullets are embedded, and her healing staff couldn’t do anything for them.”

  “Shit,” I muttered. “That makes sense. We’ll get them to the infirmary as fast as we can, but once I finish checking on the others, I’ll see if I can help move everyone despite this storm. I don’t like the idea of flying them out of here with all this lightning around. It might be better than making them trek through the jungle in their condition, though.”

  “We’ll see how the weather goes,” Urn agreed. “For now, we’re tending to anyone we can while Rhys and his son check if the way to Illaria is obstructed from all the rain. If it is, he said we can hold up at House Fehryn until it’s safe to make the crossing.”

  “Keep up the good work,” I said with a tired grin. “You guys did a hell of a job out here.”

  Urn snorted as he wiped some blood from his left eye. “I can’t believe you got us all out in time. Those bastards were coming out of the portals by the thousands, Mason. We almost didn’t make it, but you weren’t kidding about these allies of yours. They fight their asses off, even if they are a bunch of pricks. Your new automatons, though… they’re fucking beasts. Giant, metal beasts.”

  “I know,” I chuckled as I eyed the bodies littering the jungle floor. “I’ll be expanding their fleet the first chance I get. For now, we need to get our allies back to safety. I’ll stop by once I see what the rest of the damage is.”

  Defender Urn saluted as he stepped back so Rammstein could take flight, and I overshot Dragir’s post to check on Haragh first since I knew he’d lost Grot to the next tunnel before I left Nalnora.

  The half-ogre had fought like a champ, though, and when I arrived, he had half a grin on his battered face as he came over from a group of dwarves who were dragging a couple injured elves to the healing area.

  Apparently, I’d just missed Shoshanne before she headed to Orebane to help the soldiers in the north, and Haragh confirmed we’d only lost twenty-three soldiers from his platoon. He was singing a different tune about those fledglings now, too, and he raved about the way they crawled through the trees and ferns to snatch minions with their teeth. Haragh had even patted one of the fledglings on the head to thank them for their service, and he puffed out his chest with pride when he told me he only got a small bite for it.

  I tried not to imagine a mini Mason prowling through the western woods like a fledgling while I let the half-ogre carry on, but once I’d relayed Rhys’ offer to house our troops, I joined in a circuit with Haragh to build a few huts among the bloody ferns.

  Then we got his wounded soldiers out of the rain so they could wait for the healer in better conditions, and I flew back to check on Dragir and Kurna’s platoon.

  The first thing I saw when I landed was Grot fist bumping one of my Boms with a toothy grin, and even though he was covered in bullet wounds and gashes, he was on his feet and talking to Dragir of all people.

  The silver-haired elf had been disgusted by the ogre race all his life, but now, he stood beside the most ogreish ogre I’d ever met while Grot explained his favorite technique for removing the heads of his victims.

  Dragir nodded with appreciation as the ogre ruler detailed the necessary precautions to ensure the whole spine was wrenched out as well, and as I glanced around at the wounded elves clutching their Halcyan swords, I could tell they were just as riveted. The rain pelted their wounds while they listened closely to Grot’s instructions, but they laid in the mud and on fallen soldier’s bodies without much concern as if this kind of battle happened every day.

  Then I heard Kurna’s deep chuckle coming through the ferns, and I turned to see the mage with a broad grin on his face while he held his helm propped under one arm. The steel was broken open on the same side where he bore a nasty lump the size of a baseball, but he sized me up like he wasn’t impressed by my lack of life-threatening injuries.

  “Took a sphynx to the head and lived to tell the tale,” Kurna informed me before he gestured to a line of over a dozen charred trees. “Set all those trees on fire without even looking, too. Not to brag too much, but I was shooting down griffins while I did it. What’d you do today?”

  “Broke a mountain range apart,” I admitted, and his cocky grin fell. “It was for a good cause, though, I wasn’t just showing off. Honest.”

  Kurna snorted and shook his head. “At least you kept your damn shirt on. Unlike these fuckin’ guys… ”

  The Ignis Mage jutted his thumb toward Dragir, but technically, Kurna could have pointed at any of the dozens of elves whose elven garb had gotten burned up or shredded in the fight. He pointed at Dragir, though, and beside the twelve-foot ogre who looked like he should’ve been dead twenty bullets ago, the elf really did look like he was descended from the gods.

  Which was actually true in this case, and I laughed as Kurna rolled his eyes at Dragir’s chiseled physique. The elf caught the gesture, though, and he strolled over as he eyed the scowling mage.

  “I know what you are thinking,” the elf called out, and he gestured to his bloody abs like he knew damn well he looked like a god. “You think this must be how I got the spice lady, but you are wrong. I will give you another tip because you fought admirably.”

  “No thanks,” Kurna muttered through his teeth.

  “I will give it to you anyway,” Dragir informed the mage. “This spice lady does not care to hear your war stories. Bragging is despicable to her. It negates honor.”

  That caught Kurna’s attention, and I smirked as I recalled how many times I’d heard my Defenders trying to one up each other at the spice shop.

  “It does?” Kurna checked.

  “Yes.” Dragir grinned. “She likes men who can express their feelings, of all things. One day in Falmount, I was drinking much Rosh and fearing my sister might die on her journey around Illaria. The spice lady came over and asked me why I appeared to be upset. So, I told her of my plight. Then I asked about her life and how she came to sell spices. Then we fucked like hellcats during the spring season for three hours.”

  I looked between the two men while Kurna considered this, but he didn’t look as pissed off as he had been lately. He looked intrigued, and the mage nodded after a moment.

  “Interesting,” Kurna muttered. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “You should,” Dragir chuckled. Then he offered his hand, and the mage shook it without hesitation. “It was an honor to fight beside you, General Kurna. You are a terrifying mage, but less so than Defender Solana. This is a good thing.”

  “I disagree,” Kurna snorted, “but likewise.”

  Dragir placed his hand on the pauldron of my armor next, and his expression sobered.

  “Miss Shoshanne told me you nearly died in the north,” Dragir said. “I am glad to see you have recovered. You are the first human to wage a war in Nalnora for the sake of protecting my kind from a devastating fate, and for that, I thank you on behalf of the Elven Nation. They will not thank you, but know that you humble us in this fight.”

  “Thanks, man,” I said with a grin. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

  “This is true,” the elf agreed. “I have managed to only lose two of my men here, and eleven dwarves, but no others. You are welcome.”

  “That’s a relief,” I admitted. “Things could have gone a lot worse tonight, but all things considered, I think we pulled off a hell of an ambush. The Master’s lost thousands by my estimate. The attacks at the other tunnels were just as bad as here.”

  “Yes,” Dragir said as he narrowed his eyes a bit. “Which makes me wonder why I have seen my beloved
sister amongst all of this carnage as if she is not in a delicate condition. Did you not give me your word you would protect her?”

  Kurna raised his brows when I awkwardly cleared my throat, and I mumbled something indistinct as I gestured vaguely to the bodies around us. Then I swiftly headed back to Rammstein while Dragir’s serpentine eyes burned through the back of my skull, and I saluted without looking over before I ordered the metal dragon to get us the hell out of here.

  Chapter 23

  I headed from the western woods into the crowded lanes of Falmount, and even though it must have been around four in the morning by now, everyone in the village was awake while they worked to accommodate the soldiers who’d been arriving for the last few hours.

  The marketplace gleamed with torchlight as I crossed beneath the barbican to make my way over to the dwarves, and I was glad to see the merchants had brought out everything they could to assist in tending to the troops. The butchers were roasting mutton and venison on spits to help the pubs keep up, and the bakers had been passing out loaves of fresh bread for hours while they churned butter outside their shops and chatted with dwarves and mages alike.

  The merchants of the tea shop were making their way through the square to invite the soldiers for medicinal teas or poultices as well, and even the dressmakers were out lending their linen for bandages and tourniquets.

  Most of our local healers were busy removing bullets at the infirmary, but a few volunteered to make the rounds in the market, and I grinned as I saw them bandaging wounds while soldiers passed fresh pints over their heads.

  Despite their injuries, everyone seemed completely content as they shuffled aside to let more soldiers file in, and no one was starting arguments or glaring across the clearing at other races anymore. They still enjoyed getting a few jabs in over their varied fighting styles, but the bickering was better natured than I’d ever expected to be possible.