Affinity for War

by Frank Morin

  Connor was already tapping soapstone and he felt the dart approach, like a meteor in his mind. He threw himself to the side while swiping at the missile with his soapstone senses. He managed to deflect the dart high so it couldn't possibly strike Verena or Aifric.

  When he rolled back to his feet, he felt the beast raging in his heart, and this time he did not hesitate to let it out.

  Mister Five was Mhortair, a deadly Assassin who attacked in a unique way. He had struck Verena and Aifric in a matter of seconds.

  Time for him to die.

  Connor tapped granite to harden his skin against any other weapons Mister Five might employ, then he tapped slate. Earth opened to him immediately, and Connor slid across the ground faster than even his best fracked sprint. He raised one granite-hardened fist to shatter Mister Five's skull, just as he had the torc's the first time he'd used his curse.

  Mister Five had apparently seen death enough times to recognize it coming. He turned and fled. Fracking instantly, he raced into the charging Obrioner lines, slipping through the huge Boulders and disappearing from view.

  Connor planned to follow. He didn't care if he had to knock aside the entire army. He'd find that man and rip his head off. But a tortured cry behind him snapped him around.

  Verena.

  Kilian raced past, ringed by intertwining shrouds of fire and water, and shouted, "I'll get him."

  He accelerated into a fracked sprint right at the Obrioner lines. As much as those soldiers might be focused on the Grandurians, they couldn't fail to see Kilian closing on them like a living comet. Their lines split apart, with soldiers diving aside to allow him to pass.

  Connor left him to the chase and raced back to Verena. She still had that burning dart cooking her from the inside.

  The Swift had settled to the ground, and Verena's entire body was locked in rigid lines of agony. Her face was pale, she breathed in quick, shallow gasps and wept with pain as she struggled with her one good hand to tug at her armor to get at the wound. Mister Five's strange dart had drilled right through the layers of steel and leather protecting her shoulder.

  Connor placed his hands over Verena's wound and with his soapstone senses grabbed the dart embedded deep in her flesh. It again melted instantly, transforming from super-heated intensity to cool water, and geysered from the wound. It was as if the burning ice had been pressurized, but his touch released it.

  Part of him wished he could study it more, but he needed to help Verena survive until he could check on Aifric again.

  A wave of screaming made him glance up and look around for new threats. They were still standing close to the mountain of lava. It had started creeping forward again now that some of the Sentries had been forced to divert their focus. They were also far too close to where the next major clash of the battle was beginning.

  The only indications he saw of Kilian were periodic bursts of flame and water that toppled entire companies to the ground. The disturbance was moving fast through the Obrioner army. He wondered if Kilian was still chasing Mister Five, or if he was just wreaking chaos on the army. Either way, it wasn't enough. The army was still pressing forward.

  Well, they had been.

  The front lines of Obrioner soldiers had closed to within thirty yards of the Grandurians. Instead of charging to meet them, the front four lines of the Grandurian advance had dropped to their bellies.

  Every one of the soldiers behind them carried a speedsling.

  These were larger versions of the deadly weapons, heavy contraptions of basalt-lined stone, supported by iron frameworks. The weapons easily weighed a hundred pounds. Builders had already activated them, setting the large drums of projectiles spinning. In unison, the Rumblers wielding them opened the release levers.

  One hundred speedslings fired together, each one spitting five thousand hornets a minute, creating a solid wall of buzzing, hardened granite projectiles, traveling almost too fast to follow.

  The front of the Obrioner charge disintegrated.

  The heavily armored Boulders collapsed under the brutal onslaught as hornets tore through shields and armor alike and drove deep into stone-hardened skin. About one in a hundred hornets contained a grain of diorite, so a series of small but lethal explosions tore across the lines of screaming Boulders.

  The sight of the slaughter sickened Connor and stoked his rage at Dougal. All of that death and pain was his fault. Carbrey had paid for his folly, but no doubt Dougal would keep throwing away lives until Connor stopped him too.

  He vowed to make that happen soon.

  First he had to heal Verena.

  Focusing with that horrible battle raging so close was difficult, but Verena's obvious agony helped him concentrate. Connor drew deep from the sandstone pendant, pouring a river of healing energy into the wound.

  The sandstone power carried his affinity senses into her shoulder, giving him a clear picture of the wound. The ice had driven deep, cracked the ball of her shoulder, and slashed through muscle and many of the little tendons that made up the complicated joint. Without healing magic to help, Verena would have lost the use of her arm forever. With the magic, she might have a chance, especially if Aifric could tend her soon.

  Connor surrounded the wound with healing energy, binding the cuts and the broken bone, and drawing away the pain. Verena sighed and seemed to deflate as her tension relaxed.

  He spent precious seconds working over her injuries, trying first to stem the damage from those internal third-degree burns. Then he eased the hurt and attempted to reverse it. He wasn't a Healer, but he knew enough to realize those burns were a serious problem.

  The pendant provided such a flood of healing power that it did most of the work, but he tried to remember the little he had learned. His worry for Verena made it hard to think.

  Then the ground lurched underfoot.

  He glanced up and saw that the fighting had progressed while he was distracted. The Obrioner Sentries had come to the aid of their embattled Boulders, raising walls of earth to block the deadly hornets. The wounded were retreating, and the Obrioner lines were in disarray.

  The speedsling wielders shuttered the weapons, and the front lines of Rumblers leaped to their feet and charged. Several Sapper towers rose along the flanks of the army as Anton led a team of earth movers into the fray. The earthen walls protecting the retreating Boulders tumbled to the ground, and the Rumblers charged through, crashing into the disorganized ranks of Obrioners.

  Eager Obrioner reinforcements pressed in. As the fighting intensified, shouted battle cries, the clashing of steel on steel, and the sharp ringing of steel on stone-hardened skin rang across the valley.

  Sheets of water began rippling back and forth, just over the heads of the fighting soldiers as Spitters and Water Moccasins battled for dominance. So far they seemed evenly matched. Both earth and fire remained locked in a stalemate over the glowing mounds of lava. For the moment the bash fighters got their dream battle.

  Verena touched Connor's arm and drew his attention back to her. She looked pale, but better. She gave him a weak smile.

  "Thank you, Connor. That hurt more than I can describe."

  Connor felt an overwhelming sense of relief to see her stabilized. He smiled and kissed her forehead, but hated how cool and clammy her skin felt. She might be out of immediate pain, but it looked like she was going into shock. "Can you fly the Swift back to safety with Aifric?"

  She nodded, and Connor ran to Aifric, who was still lying nearby, hands clutching her wound, eyes closed in concentration.

  "Aifric, are you all right?" he asked as he dropped to his knees beside her.

  "I'll live," she said, but tears shone in her eyes.

  "Are you still in pain? What can I do to help?"

  She shook her head. "Help me up."

  Connor drew her arm over his shoulders and eased her to her feet. She grimaced, but said, "The wound is the least of my problems. Connor, I disobeyed Mister Five."

  Connor tried to remembe
r how she had said it. "You touched steel to every kill location, right?"

  "That was justification for me alone," she told him as he half carried her to the Swift. "There will be no Student Nineteen. My life is forfeit and my own father will be tasked to lead the expedition to hunt me down and return my head to Jagdish."

  "That's barbaric," Verena said, and Connor agreed.

  Aifric settled onto the supply box at the rear of the Swift and shrugged. "It is our way, and from the perspective of my people, it makes sense."

  "We'll talk about it later," Connor told her. "Go, Verena. You two get back to the healing centers. Maybe we can figure out what he hit you with."

  "Mister Five has rediscovered a technique not seen since before the Tallan wars," Aifric said.

  Connor definitely preferred it when they were the clever ones. "Tell me about it later. Go."

  "Come with us," Verena said.

  He shook his head and pointed up to where the two windriders full of Crushers were flying overhead. Soldiers were already jumping out.

  "I have work to do."

  Chapter Sixty-Seven

  "Understanding is a flower whose petal opens fully with time and contemplation."

  ~Evander

  The bash fight intensified. It was a wonder they didn't all just shatter. Soldiers on both sides beat on each other with unrestrained violence, and the air rang with the sounds of battle. A smoky scent hung over the battlefield, smelling of broken stone and the metallic taste of blood, overlaid by the rank stench of death.

  The initial Rumbler advantage was offset by the sheer number of Boulders attacking them. More Grandurians were rushing up the road to reinforce the two hundred soldiers who had gained the southern edge of the middle ground, but they faced the full might of the Obrioner shock troops.

  The duel of water was still pretty evenly matched, and the air was heavy with liquid. Over a dozen rainbows glittered in the early morning sunshine. Five Sapper towers had risen among the Grandurian front ranks, but they seemed completely dedicated to holding off the Sentries and could offer no assistance.

  Connor could.

  Air-drop soldiers and humanoid bomb-cases were already falling into the Obrioner ranks, so it was the perfect time to disrupt the delicate balance of powers. Connor was surprised that he felt no anger toward the fighting men. He'd consumed most of his raging fury to kill Carbrey. The rest had fled with Verena, Aifric, and his family.

  He had to fight, but that didn't mean he had to kill his countrymen. He was surprised to feel a spark of excitement as he marched toward the nearest fighting. All he had to do was disrupt the battle lines and give the Grandurian advance the chance they needed to finish the battle.

  Breaking things was his specialty.

  So Connor tapped marble and soapstone together. The paired elements answered his call without hesitation. The air was so hot and humid that he easily drained all the water he needed out of it, then seized the remaining dry heat and intensified it into open flame.

  Connor rose twelve feet into the air on eight spider-like legs formed out of intertwined fire and water and accelerated toward the Boulder lines. They couldn't help but see him coming, and a dozen Boulders shifted to face him, a wall of massive shields held at the ready.

  Their optimism was as inspiring as it was foolish.

  Connor plowed into them, kicking out with each long elemental leg in turn. Boulders tumbled away and crashed into the tightly-packed ranks of soldiers pressing north to join the fight.

  "Never enough time to bash fight," Connor apologized.

  He set a course across the battle line, kicking and swatting Boulders on every side. He threw head-sized balls of mixed fire and water at soldiers farther away, knocking them off their feet and creating as much confusion as possible.

  Then a war hammer whooshed past his head from behind, missing by a fraction of an inch. Other soldiers seemed to like the idea and started throwing weapons too.

  Connor dropped, and drew his elemental legs in close to form a spinning, protective sphere instead. Then he added spikes of ice along the outer edge.

  The nearest Boulder, a bearded fellow with a huge nose, grimaced and shouted, "Here comes the pain, boys!"

  The spikes dug into the ground, and the sphere shot forward, plowing right over ranks of nearby soldiers. Most of them took the elemental beating stoically. They were used to tertiaries interrupting their fun, after all. Connor saluted down at the big-nosed fellow as he ran over the man and squashed him into the ground.

  Connor set his sphere barreling back and forth through the enemy ranks, running soldiers over and extending dozens of arms of twined elements to swat at men farther out. His entire focus remained on simply disrupting their battle lines to reduce the pressure against the Grandurian advance.

  He was really good at it, and he thoroughly enjoyed that moment, despite the deadly serious nature of the conflict.

  Then the bomb-cases thundered into the Obrioners. Their fantastic eruptions threw Boulders violently in every direction and rent gaping holes in their ranks. Air-drop Rumblers landed behind the bomb-cases and plunged into the Boulders with wild abandon. They quickly formed into small companies and thew themselves into battle, creating a dozen little pockets of fighting.

  That's when the Obrioner tertiaries decided Connor was a bigger threat than the Grandurians they'd been elemental wrestling with. A pair of Firetongues and a pair of Spitters attacked together, snatching for his elements.

  They glowed in his elemental senses like torches in twilight. Boulders scrambled to escape the escalating elemental battle as fire and water arced all around Connor, crackling and snapping like angry nualls.

  Connor wasn't about to make it easy for them. He whipped the sphere into a tight turn toward one pudgy Spitter who was sliding through the press toward him on a thin sheet of ice.

  The fellow looked eager for a fight, but must have expected their combined assault would overwhelm Connor quickly. He wasn't prepared when Connor launched himself forward like an arrow from a bow, driving intertwined fire and water ahead of him. The pudgy Spitter made a valiant effort to deflect the waters away.

  Connor appreciated his spirit, so he split his elemental assault to either side of the man. The fellow grinned, but then spotted Connor soaring through the elements, curse-laden fist poised to punch him back to Drumwhindle Pass.

  The Spitter was a Strider in primary affinity and he tried to run. He was still standing on ice, and his fast-flying feet failed to find purchase.

  Connor pulled his punch at the last second to avoid shattering the unlucky fellow's chest to pieces. He still collided with him hard enough to crack several ribs, and catapulted him off his feet. The fellow's plump shape really helped him roll, and he got almost fifty feet before careening into a trio of heavy Boulders.

  That was one Spitter who'd be sipping his meals through a straw for a while.

  Several of his friends were eager to take his place, though. Connor regained his footing in the middle of a growing open space in the heart of several thousand Obrioner soldiers.

  The distraction initiative was working amazingly well.

  Next step: don't die.

  Wrapping the elements tighter around himself, he stalked toward the nearest tertiary. The precious seconds he'd spent knocking out the Spitter had given his opponents time to get organized, and more reinforcements had arrived.

  Two Firetongues, encased in crimson flames, struck at him from the sides. A pair of female Spitters, half submerged in foamy pedestals of water, snapped tendrils of water at him. In unison, they attempted to seize his elements away.

  Connor might be ascended, but those four worked well together, and he struggled to maintain control. Only the fact that he kept the elements mixing and whirling together prevented the Obrioner tertiaries from overwhelming him.

  Time to introduce them to the Blood of the Tallan.

  Connor tapped slate.

  The strength of the earth rose through him
, and for a second the entire battlefield spread clearly to his earth senses, like a map in his mind. The wide, flat plain vibrated under the tramping of tens of thousands of feet. Sentries and Sappers were still battling over the deadly lava and along the leading edges of the fighting. None were free yet to target or assist him directly.

  Most of the ground was locked into that struggle for dominance, but Connor didn't need much. While he fought his attackers for control over his protective sphere of mixed fire and water, he tugged just a bit on the ground.

  Fist-sized arms of earth erupted between the feet of each of the Firetongues, striking them solidly between the legs. He also opened holes under the Spitters' watery pedestals. Both of the men toppled, their flames flickering as they made high-pitched strangling sounds.

  Ilse and Lukas charged out of the press of fighting behind one of the men. They were invisible to Connor's earth sight. Ilse's shielding was the best he'd ever seen.

  Lukas threw a mace. It struck the Firetongue in the back of his helmeted head. The man actually looked more peaceful unconscious than he had while moaning and clutching at himself.

  The Spitters reacted better to the abrupt holes, and flowed back out almost immediately. Connor charged the nearest one, hoping she'd remain distracted, but she slid away, her watery pedestal moving as fast as a Strider. Two other Spitters and another Firetongue joined the fight, and he couldn't fend them all off and seize her water too.

  He glanced back at Ilse to see if they could intercept the woman, but Ilse was just finishing chaining the unconscious Firetongue.

  That's when he felt the surging will of a Sentry strike. It was like an underground shooting star to his mind. The ground under Ilse and Lukas buckled, sending them soaring. Spears of earth erupted after to finish them off.

  So much for her excellent shielding.

  Connor snatched the two of them out of the air with whips of water and threw them after the escaping Spitter. He pulsed his own earth senses into the ground in every direction to help shield their landing.