by Frank Morin
The hostages stood alone in the open buffer zone, less than fifty yards from the line of lava. The road began less than a hundred yards to the east. Carbrey stood on the left end of the line of hostages, with Captain Aonghus and Gregor flanking him.
"We didn't plan on them," Hamish muttered.
"Leave them to me," Kilian said.
"Even Gregor?" Connor asked. Standing on open ground, Gregor would be a formidable opponent.
Kilian nodded. "Even Gregor. But dealing with those two will require my full attention. You all must see to rescuing your families."
"We're ready," Connor assured him.
Hamish growled, "More than ready. As long as Aifric can get us that distraction."
"I'll take care of it." Aifric still wore her Healer's robe, but her expression had turned more predatory and her voice carried a hard edge to it. She was again Student Eighteen. "Gregor might recognize me. Best I stay in the Storm. I can manipulate the voices from here."
"Good idea," Connor said, and Aifric slipped into the third row of seats and lay down on the floor to stay out of sight.
Hamish set the Storm down about twenty feet away from Carbrey, with the speedslings pointed straight at him. He whispered, "I could shred him in two seconds."
Connor said, "And I doubt he'll ever realize that you held his life in your hands and chose not to take it."
Dozens of grasping tendrils of earth snaked up out of the ground all around the Storm and wrapped around the craft, locking it down to the ground.
"Easy," Kilian breathed as they climbed out. "Stay focused on Carbrey."
Connor led the way to meet Carbrey, flanked by Hamish and Kilian. Jean followed with Martys, who carried the box of knives.
Carbrey grinned and held up a hand to stop them about ten feet away.
Hendry spoke before Carbrey could, "You shouldn't have come, son. Get away while you still can."
The soldier standing behind him cuffed him in the side of the head. Hendry flinched, and Connor was grateful his dad didn't challenge the man. Not yet.
Their siblings were looking at them with desperate hope. Lilias and Peigi both looked torn between wanting to urge them to flee and plead for help saving the children. Amhain looked angry enough to fight all the soldiers bare-handed.
Kilian spread empty hands to either side. "We're here, Carbrey. Let them go."
Carbrey chuckled. "All in good time. To think the mighty Kilian is defeated by a handful of useless commoners."
"Keep talking like that, and we'll change our minds," Connor said.
"Hush, boy," Carbrey told him in an annoyed tone. "You've played at being grown up long enough. Kilian will submit to being chained, and you will pledge your service to Shona again right here, right now.
"And you, Builder." He scowled at Hamish and spat the word with abundant disgust. "You will remove that abominable suit and surrender all mechanicals."
"You've been practicing making ridiculous demands," Connor told Carbrey.
"And you're about to see your families die," Carbrey growled, raising one hand. The soldiers tensed, weapons drawing closer to exposed throats, and the children began to cry.
Connor fought the urge to strike Carbrey down right there. After a couple of seconds managed to say, "We submit, you coward."
"You really don't understand the meaning of the word submit, do you?" Carbrey asked.
Connor closed the distance, walking slowly. Aonghus's hands ignited with fire, and Gregor's gaze was like a physical weight. Any aggressive move would be met by precipitous violence.
He looked at his feet, trying to adopt a more submissive pose, but really needing to conceal his fury. He felt the beast raging in his heart, eager for release, hungry for bloodshed. Once he embraced it, he wouldn't need porphyry to become a cold-blooded killer. He was surprised that the thought still disturbed him.
"Once Kilian is in chains, I will send for Shona. Any foolish heroics from any of you, and I will order the executions."
Barely three feet away, Connor looked up to meet his gaze and spoke so only he could hear.
"I have a better idea. I'll just kill you."
Chapter Sixty-Four
“A pedra in bloodlust will slaughter for sport, but even the doe will fight to defend its young,”
~Gregor
Carbrey's arrogant, gloating expression evaporated as he met Connor's angry glare. He opened his mouth to shout a warning, but the sounds that came out didn't match the movement of his lips.
"Captain, we have reached an agreement. Release the prisoners."
The officer in command of the guards, positioned at the end of the line of hostages, frowned at Carbrey's back. "Sir?"
Looking panicked, Carbrey started to turn, but Connor caught his arm. He tried to make it look like they were shaking hands to seal their agreement.
"I said release the prisoners!" Carbrey's voice shouted, and the soldiers guarding their families stepped back smartly. Some of them sheathed their blades. Aifric's ability to manipulate Carbrey's voice was flawless.
Carbrey glared and swelled with granite power. Connor matched him. Together their muscles expanded, their armor creaking. The sound stirred the beast in Connor's heart.
"You shouldn't have threatened my family," Connor growled. He wanted to beat Carbrey to a pulp, but he couldn't risk alerting the others that something was wrong.
"Sir, is there a problem?" Aonghus asked, taking a step closer, frowning at Carbrey's expanding bulk.
Connor dared to tap slate, and even more strength flowed up through his feet. As soon as he connected with earth, he felt Gregor's presence lurking there.
Carbrey began squeezing in a vain attempt to subdue Connor by strength of arm. Gregor must have sensed Connor too, because he sealed the earth beneath Connor's feet, blocking him out.
"Beware," Gregor cried, but before he could intervene, Connor max-tapped granite and with a single mighty squeeze, crushed Carbrey's hand.
Carbrey's stone-hardened fist shattered to dust.
He screamed, but Aifric denied him voice for the pain. He fell to his knees, his expression turning panicked. It looked like he finally understood that he'd pushed Connor too far.
The ground buckled under Connor's feet, but he threw every ounce of earth power into an enormous pulse to fight Gregor's influence. Their wills crashed together, and Connor sensed Gregor's surprise as his snatch at Connor rebounded away.
That gave him just enough time to throw Carbrey at the captain of the guards. Aifric didn't block the general's startled squawk as he bowled the surprised captain off his feet.
Captain Aonghus leaped at Connor, fire erupting from his hands in a blistering wave.
That wave rebounded away before Connor could tap marble. Kilian shot past like a living comet, completely wreathed in flames. He intercepted Aonghus, and the two of them tumbled away, wreathed in brightly colored flames.
A fist-full of water materialized in the air and plunged into Gregor's mouth.
Connor breathed a sigh of relief as Gregor staggered, clutching at his throat. Kilian had used a similar tactic against Carbrey at Alasdair.
He'd sensed Gregor massing for another strike that would have probably swept him right into the super-heated lava field. The Sentry's attention now wavered, and Connor erupted the earth under his feet, sending him tumbling.
Most of the soldiers were still gaping in surprise at the fiery clash when Connor tapped soapstone and tried to draw water from the air to hit them.
There was no water left.
Too late, he realized that the intense heat from the lava had parched the air. Kilian had sucked out what little there was left for that single fistful he'd used to distract Gregor.
The soldiers were professionals, though, and they recovered from their surprise quickly. Men snatched at daggers and reached for their prisoners.
Hamish leaped into the air in a blast of thrusters and shouted, "Run!"
With a soft whooshing sound, a tiny vi
al shot from Hamish's helmet. It smashed into Gregor's face as he stumbled back to his feet, still struggling to breathe through the choking water. The extract of milked skunk shattered on impact, and Gregor fell in a heap. Earth rolled over him like a concealing blanket. Connor hoped the water and that horrible stench would keep him distracted for a few precious seconds.
Most of their families responded instantly to Hamish's voice, running toward Connor and away from their captors. Mhairi moved too slow as she tried to shepherd Hamish's five year-old brother Grier. A burly soldier grabbed her by the hair. Hamish's mother, burdened by the two year-old, also moved too slowly. Another soldier grabbed her shoulder and spun her around.
Both Hendry and Amhain turned on the soldiers instead of running. Amhain tackled the man grabbing his wife, and the two went down in a tangle, with Amhain shouting curses and beating him savagely.
With a shout of fury, Hendry barreled into the men reaching for his family. Although unarmed, his fists were hardened from a lifetime of hard labor and he smashed men off their feet with every heavy blow.
The sight of those soldiers lunging after his family with blades drawn infuriated and terrified Connor. He switched to marble.
There was a nearly limitless supply of heat available, radiating from the lava. It took only a tiny effort to seize the heat and condense some of it into living fire. He whipped it across the row of soldiers, batting men aside, burning faces, and setting hair on fire. When they turned to run, he set their breeches on fire for good measure.
He drove a handful of flames into the mouth of the soldier striking at Mhairi. The man dropped his knife and screamed, clutching at his burned mouth. Mhairi kicked him in the sweets, doubling him over. The pitch of his scream raised several octaves.
Then Hamish reached the soldiers. He tore down their line, flying at chest height, arms crossed over his chest like a living battering ram. He toppled most of the men aside, then reversed course and lifted Hendry into the air by the belt and flew back toward Connor.
Jean had rushed forward, and most of the family had already reached her in a frightened mass. Blair gaped at her outfit, and Mhairi gave her a quick hug.
Martys dropped the box of knives and rushed forward shouting, "Release the beast, laddie. Now's yer chance!"
He was right. Connor stalked forward and embraced his rage. It swept through him with almost as much power as if he'd tapped porphyry. He raised his hands, and flames boiled through the air above the soldiers, who cowered in fear. The flames intensified from crimson to white to blue.
Martys shouted, "Yes! Let their deaths serve as a lesson and a warning to all who witness!"
"No!" Lilias ran past the others to Connor, her expression horrified. "Connor, don't. You're better than this. Son, let those poor souls go."
Her voice cut through his driving rage, and for the first time he really saw the stark terror on the soldiers' faces. They had planned to kill his family, but they'd been following orders. Carbrey was to blame, not them.
The beast raged in his heart, and Connor trembled with fury. White-hot tendrils of fire crackled along his fingers, and he yearned to destroy those men.
He couldn't do it, not in front of his mother. He lowered his hands and the flames flickered and vanished.
She hugged him, tears in her eyes. "Oh, Son, I'm so sorry you have to deal with this, but I'm proud of you."
Martys advanced on Connor, his face furious. "What are you doing, laddie? Ye cannae win a battle if ye no will do what needs doin'."
"Shame on you." Lilias faced Martys's rage with unflinching calm. "Connor will fight, but you're talking about senseless murder."
"I know what needs doin'. Ye no have seen battle, so dinnae try tellin' me."
"Murder is never the right choice."
Hamish dropped Hendry nearby, and Connor gripped his dad's hands. "I'm so glad you're all right."
"I've half a mind to go after those brutes again," Hendry growled. His knuckles were bloodied, but he didn't seem to notice.
"There are a couple of hammers in the Storm," Hamish suggested, and Hendry's eyes lit up.
"Go," Connor told them. "Take everyone. That's your ride out."
"What about you?" Lilias asked.
"I've got work to do."
Connor's voice turned grim. The nearest companies of Obrioner soldiers were distracted by the fiery duel between Kilian and Aonghus, but they wouldn't be for much longer.
He was barely controlling his rage. He needed his mother and siblings to leave. They couldn't witness what was about to happen.
Carbrey had brought the war. Connor would throw it back in his face.
"Come on, brother," Hendry said, clapping Martys on the shoulder, then raised his voice. "Everyone, get to that flying wagon!"
As the family headed for the Storm, Martys fixed Connor with a reproving look. "Ye cannae hesitate, laddie. Yer mother dinnae understand war. Ye must be strong."
"I'll deal with this. Keep them safe."
Martys ran to the Storm to help everyone cram in. It would be a tight fit, but they'd manage.
Jean was already sitting in the pilot seat. She looked nervous about flying the nimble craft with all of their families crammed aboard, but Connor needed Hamish.
He tapped slate and was relieved that Gregor still hadn't taken control over the ground. In fact, he couldn't locate Gregor at all.
With a thought, the earth that had been restraining the Storm melted away. Immediately the thrusters ignited, and the little craft ascended and banked away. Jean was getting very adept at using that keystone. Most of the family looked terrified, but Hendry and Amhain saluted with their hammers.
Connor saluted in return, relieved beyond measure to see them safely away. Then he turned and his smile vanished. It was time to demonstrate what the Blood of the Tallan could do when he got really angry.
The battered soldiers who had been guarding the hostages were all scrambling to return to the Obrioner lines. Student Eighteen stood over Carbrey with a dagger in her hand. A bloody bruise marred the side of his head, and he was groaning and clutching his shattered hand.
The lava resumed its forward progress with a grinding, hissing growl, and the molten stone crept onto the solid ground behind them. A fresh wave of sulfur-laden air washed past, and the heat intensified.
The lava ground to a halt almost immediately, though. Connor wasn't surprised. The Obrioners had plenty of time to prepare their counter. He felt the straining invisible forces battling overhead and underfoot.
Sentries and Sappers fought for dominance, while Firetongues and Flameweavers strove to drive the fire against each other. The opposing forces only served to lock the lava into place. It also kept most of the strongest Petralists distracted.
Not far away, Kilian abruptly encased Aonghus in a pillar of ice, imprisoning him to his neck. A final flicker of fire snatched the marble right out of Aonghus's mouth.
Kilian must have found an underground source to produce that much water. Aonghus was shouting curses, but Kilian leaned against the pillar of ice, looking relaxed. He spoke, and Aonghus calmed and looked surprised. Connor would pay a lot to be one of those fire devils dancing on Kilian's shoulders and hear what he said.
The fight had taken long enough that four Firetongues and five Spitters had gathered to help Aonghus. The Spitters had drawn water along with them, and the two teams attacked Kilian with a barrage of whipping flames and pounding water.
"We have to help him," Hamish said as the elemental barrage boiled over Kilian, obscuring him from view.
Connor had already tapped both marble and soapstone, and Kilian blazed in his elemental senses like a bonfire wrapped in a thundering, standing waterfall. Kilian stood at the center of the elemental onslaught, both hands raised, a roguish smile on his face.
He shouted, "Who taught you kids how to fight? You're not working together at all."
"I'm not sure it's a good idea to give the other side constructive criticism during a battle
," Hamish commented.
"He's keeping them distracted."
Connor plunged his will into the wild contest raging around Kilian just long enough to snatch a hefty streamer of water away and wrap it around himself like a glittering, silver snake.
Windriders were already sweeping over the Obrioner army, and the first wave of Rumblers and fire-filled bomb-cases were jumping out. The Crushers would arrive in moments. If the battle over the lava and Kilian's dramatic performance could keep enough of the tertiaries distracted, their job would be all the easier.
"Let's deal with Carbrey," Hamish growled, and the two of them turned in unison toward the cowering general.
In that moment, Gregor's will returned in a rush, battering Connor's earth senses aside and sending him stumbling. The Sentry struck like an underground lightning bolt, straight for Carbrey.
Carbrey seemed to melt into the earth. Student Eighteen leaped at the spot and drove her dagger deep, but the ground buckled and tossed her back.
"No!" Hamish shouted, leaping into the air on a rush of thrusters, snatching for the mini speedsling holstered at his hip. As powerful as those hornets might be, they'd never penetrate deep enough.
Connor snatched for that area with his earth senses, but they deflected away, turned by a sturdy shield. He pounded at it and swept his earth senses around it, trying to find a way in. The shield was formed like a long conduit, leading back toward the Obrioner army.
"No way you escape!" Connor threw himself into the air with a burst of fire and soared over the invisible, shielded conduit. No doubt Gregor was spiriting Carbrey away through it.
He couldn't tell exactly where Carbrey was, but Gregor's shielding outlined the only possible places.
Connor embraced the raging beast, and his flames boiled to steel-melting intensity. With a blast of that fire, Connor flung himself out of the air and thundered into the ground above Gregor's shield. He struck with every ounce of earth power, smashing into the shield.
It rippled under the brutal impact. Connor released earth and again tapped both soapstone and marble together. He drew so heavily from both stones that the piece of marble in his mouth burned into his lip.