Resurgence

by Alex Janaway

  She beckoned with her hand and set off, whispering gently to herself. She heard the tramping of feet behind her. Voices.

  ‘Shit are we really walking through that?’

  ‘What does it look like?’

  ‘But I thought we had a plan?’

  ‘Wendell, you want to stay here and see how that works out?’

  ‘Bugger that.’

  ‘Good, now shut up and keep walking.’

  She angled her path up the slope, going steady, picking her way over obstacles, trying to sustain concentration. This time it was harder trying to maintain the barrier. She felt physically tired, there was a pressure not just on the bubble, but on her brain, like it was being gently squeezed. Onwards they went and as they trudged, that pressure built, she felt sweat on her brow. She was starting to struggle, her words were now laboured. Onwards. She cast a look back. They were all still there, the marines, gathered in a tight group, Michael just behind, grim-faced but determined. He looked at her. ‘You can do it,’ he said simply.

  She nodded, turned back and kept on. She wasn’t going to let them down. Not after all this. Just keep one foot in front of the other. The flames beat on the bubble and she felt it weaken, like layers of skin being peeled off an onion. Her vision was starting to blur. She felt the slope beneath her, felt her legs complain at the climb. Keep climbing up. Surely they were out? Another step, another step. Her foot kicked a piece of a fallen branch. She stumbled, lost her concentration, her focus gone. She felt the bubble collapse, dissipate. There were shouts behind her. No! Then an arm reached out and steadied her.

  ‘Ellen. It’s alright.’ A gentle, familiar voice. She looked up at Michael, a smile on his lips.

  ‘What?’ She looked behind him. The marines were cheering. And behind them. A wall of fire. It was advancing no further.

  ‘Good job, kid!’ announced Fenner, a big grin on his blackened face.

  ‘That was incredible,’ said Michael.

  Ellen nodded. Yes, it truly was.

  CHAPTER 71 – CADE

  Cade hunkered down behind a rock and frowned. They held the high ground, an outcropping that formed a jumbled mess upon the wooded western edge of the hill’s crest, her people scattered behind cover. The Gifted had done a good job, only a handful of elves had pursued and had quickly withdrawn when they realised they weren’t digging her out easily. She bit her lip. That wall of fire on the edge of the trees might do it for them. Strangest fucking thing. It had just burst into life and run like a fucking cat on heat all the way up the slope. Just as fucking strangely, it had stopped and gone no further.

  ‘What do you see?’ she asked, looking up one particular tree just to her left.

  ‘Not much to be chirpy about,’ replied Saul, ensconced in the upper branches. ‘Far side’s aflame good and proper. Anyone in there is cooked.’

  ‘It’s not coming this way, though?’

  ‘Seems not.’

  That was something. She did some thinking. The fog was gone. Maybe the shaman, witch doctory types had given up the ghost. Or maybe they were doing their bit, holding back the flames on this side.

  ‘Where’s our lot?’ she called.

  ‘The Nidhal withdrew back on the hill. They must be hiding in the trees.’

  ‘Hmm.’

  ‘Cade?’ someone shouted to her right.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Someone’s charging up the hill, on the far side!’

  ‘Are they trying to get round us?’

  ‘Reckon so!’

  ‘Then shoot ’em!’

  ‘Hold up! Friendlies!’ someone else shouted from further round the slope. That wasn’t an elf.

  ‘Let ’em in!’ she ordered.

  She shifted position to get a better look as a group jogged in, taking up positions among the rocks and boulders. She raised a hand. ‘Over here.’

  A figure changed course and scrambled over. She shifted again, making room.

  ‘Evening.’

  ‘Lovely night for it,’ replied Killen.

  ‘Magical.’

  Killen nodded his head. ‘Literally.’

  ‘How are your lot doing?’

  ‘Knackered. Had another tussle as we were withdrawing, had to take the long way round.’

  Killen leaned forwards, squinted down the slope. ‘Do you know what’s going on?’

  Cade shrugged.

  ‘Not much. We messed up the elves some but then their wizards got in on the act. Right flank has gone. All kinds of shit happening in the sky over there. Anyone left standing is at the top,’ she said, nodding towards the middle of the hill.

  ‘Is it worth going to join them?’

  Cade shook her head. ‘I sent Evan, they sent him back. They said to hold. There ain’t nowhere to run.’

  ‘I guess they’ve gotten round our backs.’

  ‘Uh huh.’

  He reached out and gave her a comradely back slap. ‘We gave them a good hiding though, eh?’

  Cade gave him the eye.

  ‘Shit!’ said Saul, from his perch.

  ‘What you got?’

  ‘Another bunch coming up the hill.’

  Cade spat. They had no more surprises. The elves just had to grind their way forwards.

  Someone sprinted towards the rocks from the forward slope.

  ‘Elves, a shitload!’ said Jenni breathlessly, her arms pumping.

  ‘With archers?’ she asked Killen.

  ‘Probably.’ He turned. ‘Corporal Abbas? Get yourself up a tree, find some elevation. Captain Rashad?’

  ‘Major?’

  ‘Pick three, guard our rear.’

  ‘Sir!’

  ‘You still got your bow?’ Cade asked.

  ‘Lost it.’

  ‘Take mine. I’m a shit shot anyway.’

  CHAPTER 72 – OWEN

  An explosion of light, and a bright ball of flame and heat, rose into the sky. The circle of pikes disappeared. It was just … gone. Lost within a circle of fire. In the brightness and fleeting shadows, he saw cavalry withdraw, many horses riderless, panicked. Owen looked on in shock. A ball of fire, arcing through the night sky, like a falling star, moments before it dipped and struck the ground.

  ‘Owen.’

  He watched the line of fire start to march along the very perimeter of the whole woods, sweeping around the slope of the battlefield near to where the Nidhal and elves fought in hand-to hand combat. And what had happened to the fog?

  ‘Owen!’

  Cadarn’s voice filled his mind, shattering his shocked reverie.

  ‘Yes, I’m here.’

  ‘Listen.’

  He forced himself to be calm. He searched for something above the din of the battle below.

  And there it was. A deep, droning sound. Familiar, and foreboding. Memories returned, sharp and bitter recollections of that final night of terrifying combat above the skies of Aberpool. Of an empire dying.

  Buzzing.

  ‘I see them,’ pulsed Jenna. ‘Coming from the south.’

  ‘Owen, take your group out of range. Get ready for your run,’ Cadarn ordered. ‘We’ll take them head on.’

  ‘Moving now,’ Owen acknowledged. There was no need to question Cadarn’s orders. He was the Leader and Owen would always defer to him in the sky.

  As Cadarn pulsed to his squadron, Owen bid Arno turn east and climb. He reached out to Jussi. ‘Find the others, follow me.’

  He flew higher, relying on his non-Speaking companions seeing the sign. Cadarn’s eagles broke off their strafing and grouped just to the north of the battle below. There was nothing more they could do for Devlin now.

  He continued to climb. They needed to be unnoticed. Below him, in the rapidly fading light, he saw what he had dreaded; approaching from the southeast were a number of large shapes, moving in a strangely stable fashion, slow, but purposeful, it almost looked like they were stationary, just hanging in the air. Their bodies were elongated, the colouring on their torsos lost to the approachi
ng night. Bees. Giant bees magically enhanced far beyond their natural growth.

  ‘Owen, we’re coming.’

  Owen turned, saw eagles converging on him, Jussi waving. Coming in from the west, Owen spied dark, ominous storm clouds.

  He slowed Arno down, maintaining a slow circle, waiting for the others to join him. Jussi tucked in on his right, Anneli on his far side. Erskine on the left flank with Ernan close.

  ‘Owen, do we charge?’ shouted Ernan.

  ‘Not yet. We wait.’ Owen could not blame him, but they only had one shot at this. The bees kept station, waiting. But they would not wait for long.

  Cadarn’s voice entered his mind.

  ‘We are engaging.’

  Down below, seven eagles, spread in an arrow formation, charged at the bees. In response, the bees picked up speed to engage them. A bright lance of fire spat from the top of one of them, but it was sent too early. It passed between two eagles that banked out of its way. Then the two sides met.

  The eagles, with their greater manoeuvrability, dodged and weaved around the bees. Riders exchanged bowfire, talons tried to rake the heads of the buzzer crews. The voices of his comrades filled Owen’s head.

  ‘Watch out!’

  ‘Take the left.’

  ‘On it.’

  ‘Closing.’

  ‘Got you, you bastard!’ That was Bryce, obviously. Owen saw an eagle smash into the top of a buzzer, knocking over a rider. Another was taken in his bird’s talons.

  Owen grinned. They may have been outnumbered, he counted perhaps a score of buzzers, but Cadarn’s Eagle Riders had fought them before and knew what to do.

  ‘Owen?’ called Ernan.

  ‘Wait!’ He needed to know one more thing. Another lance of fire.

  ‘That one! Target that one!’ he cried.

  And the brothers dived.

  A fireball, larger than the lance, erupted from another buzzer. It fell towards the battle below, smashing into the surface.

  ‘Jussi, Anneli, go!’

  And his two young companions fell towards the source of the magic. He wanted those sorcerers targeted, he wanted them dead.

  Owen took a moment to reload his crossbow, listening to the pulsing in his head.

  ‘Watch out! The–’

  Another lance and this time it hit home. An eagle’s outline was illuminated and then consumed by fire. It fell tumbling from the sky.

  Owen readied his weapon.

  ‘Arno, hunt.’

  Arno dived, flying almost vertically, heading for the heart of the fray. He aimed for a buzzer below, letting Arno gain more speed. Then the eagle adjusted his wings, flared them wide and swooped down, smashing into the centre of the buzzer. Owen was thrown forward, smacking into his saddle. Arno had pierced the thing, had his razor-sharp talons dug in, and was trying to pull up. And the bee rocked back and forth, arching its thorax, its droning reaching a shrill peak. He heard a shout – one of the crew was still on board. A bow was pointed his way. He raised his crossbow, shot point blank, plucking the elf off its perch and into the night.

  ‘Alright, Arno. Release. Release!’ Almost reluctantly, Arno let go. He launched himself up and away. The bee did not follow, it flew away, now directionless. That was the key. Kill the controller and the bee became as docile as its tiny cousins. Owen tucked his crossbow into its holster, reached for his spear. In the maelstrom of weaving forms, more sorcerous blasts lit up the sky.

  ‘Shit!’ That was Bryce again.

  ‘Back off!’ Jenna.

  ‘Owen!’

  ‘Jussi?’ Owen looked. He couldn’t tell where he was.

  ‘Owen! It’s Anneli she’s gone!’ Jussi was panicking, almost shrieking in his head.

  ‘No, I just can’t see her!’

  ‘Climb towards the moon, I’ll find you.’

  ‘I can’t see that either!’

  He was right. It was obscured by the clouds. They were almost overhead.

  A scream pierced his mind. Another Rider fell.

  It was almost full dark. Only the light of the fires below and the magical blasts coming from the elf sorcerers controlling the buzzers lit the battle.

  Owen felt a patter of rain against the exposed skin of his face. Then he heard thunder. And among the clouds, flashes of light.

  ‘Owen, look out!’ Jenna’s voice pulsed loud. Without thinking Owen banked Arno right. And a stream of fire passed overhead. Damn how many of these buzzers were left? How many eagles were left? He looked behind him, a buzzer was on his tail.

  And then the whole world flashed white. A bolt of lightning speared into the buzzer tailing him. The giant bee fell from the sky like a stone. More lightning bolts followed, stabbing from the sky, but these were not random. Jagged and impossibly fast, they sliced through the air, and each time they appeared, a buzzer fell.

  Owen grinned and whooped for joy. ‘Yes!’

  The shamans had kept their word, one more surprise weapon in the arsenal.

  Another finger of lightning descended like the judgement of the Gods and skittered harmlessly off a buzzer, passing onwards and down into the earth below. Owen blinked. Another lightning bolt bounced off a different buzzer. And this time he believed it. Some kind of invisible shield had flashed at the impact. Damn them! The elves were countering the magic. He had nothing left to throw at them. The Nidhal shamans could not help the troops if they were blocking the elven sorcerers. The storm clouds were breaking up. The remaining moments of the fading daylight forcing their way through.

  An eagle passed by enveloped by flame. Owen’s world slowed down. He could see elven cavalry below, was Devlin lost? There were but a few eagles still airborne. Was that it? All that was left? And there, in the distance, a bee, larger than the others, hovered. It was flanked by two more. Whoever rode that central bee was important. Whoever it was, Owen wanted them taken down.

  Owen braced his spear.

  ‘Arno. Fly!’ he shouted. And his eagle, his oldest and best friend, responded, already knowing what had to be done. And as they closed the distance Owen cried his rage. Enough death. Enough loss. He could bear to see no more eagles die.

  A jet of flame was loosed from the left-most buzzer and Arno dropped, the fire passing mere inches away. A second blast came from the right. Arno banked left. Owen laughed. ‘Come on!’ Arno was too good for them! They were drawing closer and the sorcerer upon that beast of a bee was inscribing a circle of fire in the air in front of him. Owen had one shot at this and it meant going through that fire. It didn’t matter; if they died, they died. But he was taking that bastard with him. ‘Fly Arno. Fly.’ He gripped his spear tighter, willing Arno faster. ‘Right down his fucking throat,’ he shouted.

  ‘Move your bloody arse, Owen!’

  And from on high, another eagle crowded his vision, passing overhead, cruising at a greater speed than Arno could muster. It smashed into the wall of fire, passed right through it, and the bee rocked at the impact. The wall of fire folded in on itself, consuming the bee, the eagle and its Rider.

  Cadarn.

  No.

  Owen flew over the creature, the flames reaching skyward. And down below, he saw a struggle. An eagle, clinging on tight even as its feathers burned away. Cadarn burying his spear into an elf. Both screaming as the flames melted their flesh. The bee bucking and twisting, its translucent wings already consumed.

  Owen blinked. Not Cadarn. He was the best of us.

  And now the two remaining bees were shifting in the sky, tracking towards him. He stared dumbly, knowing he should act but stunned into inaction. He felt alone. He felt like he had that first night after Aberpool. He felt helpless. And he remembered Em. She had sacrificed herself for him too.

  Bryce’s voice entered his mind. ‘Don’t just sit there, you silly sod.’

  And half a dozen eagles descended on the bees.

  Owen shook his head.

  It wasn’t over.

  ‘Arno, dive!’

  The two sorcerers could not
track so many targets at once, and the crews were dispatched quickly, falling from their platforms to the dark floor below. And as the last flash of sunlight burst across the sky, he spied three more buzzers heading south.

  It was done.

  Owen looked down. The battle was far from over. Another force of infantry was marching up the slopes, cleared utterly of fog, framed by the fires in the trees to the east and a new set of flames creeping up the treeline to the west.

  CHAPTER 73 – KILLEN

  Killen stood and discharged his weapon before ducking behind rock. Something smacked into its front. Ha! He could stay here all night. Until they realised all they had to do was just advance en masse. Around him a steady exchange of shots between the two sides continued. They had the high ground, and defences. But it was just a matter of time. They couldn’t have more than thirty left fighting up here.

  There was a rumble of thunder and moments later a flash of light, bringing stark daylight to the woods. Killen blinked. A crack of lightning. A storm?

  A roar filled the air.

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Nidhal got bored of waiting, they’re charging again,’ replied Saul.

  Brave. But stupid. The elves were organised now. They’d just push back the Nidhal and advance again. Better those warriors should just wait among the trees, let the undergrowth disrupt the elven ranks.

  ‘More are coming!’ shouted Abbas. ‘They are moving around the flanks.’

  That was it then. Killen looked for Cade, found her just off to one side, loading a crossbow looted from a dead comrade. He looked for a bolt for his weapon and realised he was empty. He shook his head. There was no way they could keep them off this hilltop.

  ‘Cade!’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I reckon we’re almost done here.’

  She stood, loosed her weapon and ducked back down.

  ‘Yeah.’

  She tossed the crossbow away.

  ‘I’m out.’

  Killen watched her close her eyes and nibble on her nails.