by C E Johnson
Lyall, whispered Emily’s ki. The monster was as enormous as a tiger with black fur with hints of silver in its thick coat. The beast was ferocious and powerful.
“The armored female warrior next to the wolf … she’s different,” Anna said quietly. The wolf and warrior appeared to be deep in conversation. The woman strutted proudly with her head held high.
Kirbee, Emily’s ki whispered. This half-dead had to be strong to be named as well, she realized. Although her ki didn’t tell her what she was, somehow Emily was certain she was a vampire. “The wolf’s name is Lyall and the woman’s name is Kirbee,” Emily informed her squad, instantly realizing what Anna meant. Kirbee was a very high-level half-dead. “Kirbee’s a vampire,” she added.
“A vampire?” Mr. Henry asked. Speaking in a tone that suggested he thought she was a demon. He sounded incredulous.
The female vampire’s movements were almost as smooth and dangerous as Maaca. Moving lightly on her feet with a deadly grace, she swaggered with a lethal defiance. She stalked to Wuldur’s right side, while Lyall loped to Wuldur’s right. A goblin scurried forward bringing Kirbee an imposing roan filly, and the female vampire launched herself into the saddle effortlessly. Stomping the ground impatiently, the charger signaled it was ready to attack. Kirbee’s black leather armor stood out in stark contrast to her pale skin and her golden blonde hair. She whirled away from the bridge and made a signal to a squad of goblins.
“She must be their warlord,” Emily called out. “They’re obeying her orders without question.” Following Kirbee’s gestures, the goblin half-deads dismounted from their horses. Before reassembling, they handed off the reins to their grooms. Performing a series of sharp turns, they amassed behind the lithe female vampire. The goblins had long hair, and through Xena’s nose, Emily could smell them easily from her position downwind. They were rank with a scent more fetid than old sweat.
“Who’s that one?” Luke asked Emily as he gestured to a tall red magician on a gray stallion. “I can see his aura and he’s as cocky as they come.”
“I know him,” Emily gasped. She recognized his aural signature immediately even though sections of his essence had changed. “He was with Droth in Washington D.C.”
You’re right, Xena growled, but he’s an arch-mage now and he has a stronger inner power. We need to watch him carefully.
“He’s an arch-mage,” Emily echoed Xena’s words to her friends. “He’ll be very dangerous.” Behind the red magician were shades on horseback. These half-deads carried long wooden staves with short-swords at their sides. All at once, a new pack of were-creatures appeared, likely moving from their scouting position into an attack formation. Assembling around the red magician, they jostled and bit at each other in their excitement. Just posterior to the two squads were magicians and archers. The archers were of every race of half-deads. Appearing to be talking strategy, they began stringing their bows while the magicians huddled together.
“I don’t like the look of their wolves,” Mr. Henry said in a coarse rumble. He had a deepening scowl on his face. Settling in behind the trailer, he found a comfortable position and began sighting his rifle. “I think I’ll take them out first.”
“I don’t like the look of any of them,” Palin added while he selected his own position. “This is like a horror story. Half-deads, eh?”
“Vampires, goblins, shades, and were-creatures,” Luke answered. He began to teach the coaches about the attributes of each race of half-dead. Although the coaches turned pale, Luke squared his shoulders and stood straight and strong appearing like he wasn’t the least bit scared of any of them. Emily knew he wasn’t. She turned to study Luke for a moment. He was impressive in his confidence. His brash courage cloaked him in a veil of fortitude. He was built for war.
He needs to command this fight, Xena whispered.
You’re right, Emily realized. “Luke, you’re running our defense,” Emily called without a second thought. “You’re our war chief.” Soane wheeled overhead. Emily wiped a thin sheen of sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand, feeling lighter all of a sudden. It feels good to delegate authority, she thought.
A shadow of a smile flickered over Luke’s face. He nodded to Emily, appearing proud of her decision. “Elizabeth, stay near to me,” he said with new firmness. “We’ll use our fire and ice spells as a last resort.” He appeared bold and tough as he sauntered forward to eye the patterns of the enemy.
“So many half-deads,” Poulton muttered in awe.
“We’ll kill them,” Luke promised in a dangerous voice. He appeared almost callous in his obvious disdain for the creatures pulled from Ater below them, and Emily could sense an ever-growing disgust forming within him for the beasts who had killed his parents. “Isabelle,” he called. Isabelle walked over to stand next to Luke. He pointed to a swamp and a forest just beyond the amassing army. “I want you to pull animals in from behind the half-deads. Whatever you can find. We need to attack their unguarded flank.”
Isabelle closed her eyes and whispered the words to a spell. She reopened them a moment later and turned to Luke. “There are plenty of snakes, alligators, and coyotes,” she informed him. “I’ll start to gather them in the woods. Let me know when you want them to attack.”
Luke nodded to Isabelle before striding over to direct Anna. “Anna, be ready to help Poulton with any attacking wyverns,” Luke advised. “Go into dragon form if you have to, but watch out for enemy arrows.” Anna squared her jaw and gave a nod of her head. Luke then addressed Anna, Isabelle and Elizabeth, “We’ll cast our own shield spells when Emily casts her own. Our magic isn’t as strong as hers, but we have to help in our defense.”
Luke went to stand next to Emily. “Em, use your initial energy on a shield spell. The rest of us will be more aggressive in weakening them, knowing you’ve got our back.”
“Advance!” roared shade Wuldur. He was loud and intimidating even from far below them at the base of the bridge.
Luke glanced down at the forming armies. All were slowly beginning to move in gleaming precision. “Save enough energy for a final blast-assault, Em. Once the majority of them are on the bridge dreaming of our downfall, I want you to clean everything off with a fireball.” He glanced back at Isabelle. “Just like Isabelle suggested.”
Emily didn’t want to imagine how much magus a spell of that magnitude was going to take. Instead, she focused on Luke. Leaning in to him, she hoped the electricity that formed when they were close to each other would keep all other thoughts at bay. However, images of war and death instantly flowed in her mind, overcoming the usual excitement of their natural chemistry. “Stay safe,” she commanded with a sad smile. Thoughts of their downfall continued to flit through her mind, and she couldn’t suppress a shudder.
“We can do this, Em,” Luke whispered with fierce determination. He leaned in for a kiss while taking Emily into his arms and closing his eyes. Emily marveled at how warm and soft his lips were, while his body was strong and hard. His fingertips slid to her neck and an electric shiver ran down her back as skin met skin. She enjoyed the feel of his stubble on her face. She slid her hands up to run lightly over his cheeks as she pushed her body in to him. Although she wanted to stay locked against him forever, her daydreams evaporated as the asphalt began to shudder beneath her feet. The half-deads were forming up at the base of the bridge.
Separating slowly, she savored the last look that passed between them, one of pure passion even in the midst of war. “Lead us well,” she urged. He was restless, determined; she was full of worry, breathless. His mouth tightened as he whirled to make sure everyone was prepared for what was about to happen. Once he appeared certain that everyone knew their role, Luke climbed up on the trailer. Preparing his crossbow, he appeared bold and imposing.
“I don’t like their instruments,” McAdams said with a quiet desperation as the drums were becoming louder and louder. Calling their notes up into the clear sky, the warhorns began to shudder in the distance.
Their moans cried a story that spoke of destruction and impending death. A single trumpet sounded above all else, strong and vibrant with higher notes that pierced Emily’s heart with dread.
“Cavalry, out!” Wuldur roared. He wasn’t coming up the bridge. Instead, he stayed below it on a small rise directing everything. Kirbee, Lyall, and the red magician joined him in surveying the battle. Steel plate clattered as the cavalry started to move forward in two columns on each side of the bridge.
“Footsoldiers, advance!” Kirbee called out. The main company of half-deads began their ascent toward Emily’s squad in between the two cavalry columns. As they came up the incline, they began to sing harshly along with their drums, stepping more quickly in their excitement.
“Pace yourselves! They aren’t going anywhere!” Wuldur thundered. Luckily, they were slowed by the many vehicles left on the expanse. Progressing at a slow plodding ascent that appeared to anger the horses, the cavalry couldn’t make a proper charge. The air became filled with the whicker of geldings and the snorts of frustrated stallions. The drums picked up their deep rhythm, boom, boom. While adjusting their helms and checking over their armor, the goblins added to the din by slamming their spears on their round wood and leather shields in time with the drumbeat. Although the half-dead forces weren’t enormous, the wave of marching creatures was deadly, and they continued their monotonous advance without pause.
“Shield!” blared the red magician far below at Wuldur’s side. Emily watched the magicians mouth their incantations with their auras flaring like a storm of low-lying fireworks. All at once, a multi-colored light enveloped the enemy providing them with a layer of magical protection.
Hold on casting your shield until their archers fire, Xena advised. Every second you wait is to our advantage. Don’t waste any magus in this battle. You’ll need every drop for your final spell.
They’re so organized, Emily marveled. I don’t remember half-deads having this sort of discipline.
Wuldur must be a different sort of leader, Xena thought in agreement.
And Kirbee, Emily whispered while watching the raw innate power rippling within the female vampire.
“Archers, nock!” Wuldur roared, his voice carrying up to Emily on the wind. “Pull!” He raised his hand. “Loose!” Emily began to pull her magus to start her protective shield spell. Her friends looked to her to see if they should start their own incantations.
Don’t use your shield yet. They’re too far away, Xena interrupted Emily’s spell formation. Wait until they advance closer. Emily signaled to her friends to wait to use their magic. Arrows fletched with black feathers soared into the air. Whispering secrets about the injuries they planned to inflict, the arrows seemed to speak as they flew. Yet, just as Xena had surmised, they fell short, shafts extending from anywhere they could find purchase. The cars began bristling like porcupines as the sharpened projectiles pierced thin steel. Several of the arrows skidded across the asphalt landing at their feet.
“Gather up any you can!” Luke urged. Rushing forward, they picked up any intact arrows they could find. “The archers now have our range,” Luke warned. “They’ll probably advance to a new position.” He was right. Wuldur made his orders, and his archers and magicians moved forward so their arrows and spells would be more potent.
“Fire arrows at will!” Luke ordered. “If they can hit us uphill, our arrows will surely score downhill.” Anna, Isabelle, Emily, and Elizabeth let their arrows fly. Some arrows were deflected by the enemy shield while others found purchase. Rattling off a rapid sequence of bolts, Luke picked the enemy apart.
“Bullets?” Mr. Henry asked, eyebrows raised to Luke. “Should we also fire?” His voice was uneven and concerned.
“Wait until you’re sure of success,” Luke advised. His eyes shining, he whirled to face Palin and Mr. Henry. “When you fire your guns, aim in the middle of a cluster of troops. Even if the magicians are able to deflect the path of the bullets, the projectiles might still score a hit on adjacent half-deads and each bullet weakens their defenses.”
“Good idea,” Mr. Henry grunted. He sounded impressed with Luke’s idea. “Palin, let’s aim for the center of the goblins in the middle of their footsoldiers.” The two riflemen took aim and shots rang out from their guns. Their missiles began to whine through the wind. Luke was right. Some of the deflected bullets pierced armor, and goblins fell to the ground emitting blood that was so dark, it appeared as black as oil. Emily took her own sight on large were-creatures and she released arrow after arrow.
“They’re about to fire again,” Anna warned their squad. Emily dropped her empty quiver and pulled her pyramis bluestone from her leather pouch. Separating their components and rolling the three triangles in her hand, Emily started to pull her magus up from the depths of her soul. Wuldur shouted orders from below and another flight of arrows was released from the enemies’ bows. The air became thick with steel and wood.
Now! Xena roared. Emily’s magus blasted out of her frame in a rush. She released her bluestones and completed the words of her spell. Her pyramis rotated around their position in a blur. Her friends followed suit, casting their own shield spells. Magic crackled in the air around their small squad, either deflecting projectiles to the side or turning the enemy arrows into smoke. Missiles that otherwise would have been sure kill-shots clattered weakly to the ground. Although her squad was uninjured, cuts formed on Emily’s already scarred arms as she was the foundation of their shield. She steeled her body to absorb the pain as she had been taught, but lancing fire still rocketed through chest taking her breath away. Pocketing her other magestones, Emily gritted her teeth attempting to stifle the inner fire that continued to burn within her body.
“Incoming!” Luke roared. Calling him to his side with his eyes, he glanced to McAdams, but McAdams, looking like he was about to retch once again, hesitated.
“We have to help Luke!” Emily called to Oliver. Pulling McAdams along, the three climbed up on the trailer. Drawing their swords and staves, they stood next to Luke. After spreading out, they found themselves near the same height as the approaching horsemen.
“They won’t get by us!” Oliver thundered defiantly while pounding his staff on the metal beneath his feet. “The trailer blocks them off. We can hold them here for a time.” The lead guards of the half-dead onslaught eagerly leapt forward to begin hand-to-hand combat. Immediately a fierce melee erupted, but Oliver was right, the enemy was slowed. Spread out as they were, they were able to halt the enemy’s advance. Behind the lead warriors, the rest of the half-deads came to a complete stop.
“It’s like shooting ducks,” Mr. Henry thundered with excitement. “I’m sending these foul beasts back to hell.” Punching holes in their armor, bullets and arrows continued to rain down on the gridlocked half-deads.
I’m going to attack where I can, Xena called out.
Be careful, Emily urged. Xena and Rune bounded away. They were instantly everywhere at once, all teeth and jaws, snapping and searing.
As Emily began to tire with her magus consumption, she backed away from the conflict so she could focus entirely on protecting everyone with her shield. Elizabeth and Anna moved forward to help. Isabelle stayed back, preparing her spell. Out of the corner of her eye, Emily watched Luke. His skill with the blade had surpassed her own by leaps and bounds. Right, left, overhand, underhand, he was a flurry of steel. Moving faster than a whirlwind, he never stayed in one spot too long. Slash, parry, strike, his speed continued to increase as sparks flew from his attack like a welding torch. Vampires stumbled, wolves faltered, and shades backed down as he rained blow upon blow at the enemy.
McAdams was now fully engaged. He was skilled, but he was a good step behind Luke. Nonetheless, the air whistled and screamed as staff and wicked blades carved death and destruction against the undead army. They were definitely delaying the enemy, and the half-dead wounded were beginning to stack up, but the outcome wasn’t in question. It was only a matter of time. The creatur
es weren’t backing away. Although only four half-deads could meet their defense because of the width of the bridge, there was no end to the column behind them. Luke was the corner stone of their defense. He was intercepting the brunt of the attack. He gestured for Emily to back further away from front line and he sent Anna and Elizabeth back to safety as their position was close to being overrun.
“Don’t you need my help?” she called to Luke as she worried for him.
“No. Focus on your shield,” he roared. “Save your energy for your spell. Wait until we’re about to go down.” Already Emily could see his sword hand was growing stiff. He switched from his right to his left hand, but blood loss from cuts on his arms were making his hands slick. His own magical shield was taking hits, and he grunted in pain as he reeled back from the continued onslaught.
All at once, McAdams faltered in his battle with a shade. He lost his footing on the blood pooling beneath him on the trailer, blood from several dead and dying half-deads. Stumbling and sliding forward, McAdams went down hard on his right shoulder. “Help!” he cried with a frantic shattered breath, hoping to rally Luke and Oliver to his side. Luke instantly shifted his position to aid him, but McAdams’ fate appeared inevitable as his momentum caused him to continue to slide forward right over the lip of the trailer before anyone could get to him. Landing with a sickening snap of bones on the blacktop, McAdams let out a groan.
Emily reflexively moved forward, but she couldn’t get to McAdams in time to give assistance either. None of them could. She knew her shield was going to be ineffective against the coming powerful point-blank attack from multiple half-dead swords aimed at the wounded man’s heart, and she braced herself for the impending jarring impact. A moment later it came, and Emily couldn’t stifle the scream that came unbidden to her lips. Her magic strove to help McAdams, her swordmaster, but her shield couldn’t stop three goblin blades that sliced into his chest as one. Her body went numb with the pain as McAdams heart stopped. The half-deads let out a gruesome cheer as one of their enemies died. They obviously hoped Emily’s line of defense was going to break, but for a frenzied few seconds it continued to hold with only Luke and Oliver left to oppose a growing army.