Mortal Banshee

by Jonathon Magnus

  Visor followed her instructions. “It hardly took effort. The bow didn't bend at all.” Visor spun it around in his hand. “It's so small.”

  Mercy said, “The size is not important. The effectiveness comes from design and technique.”

  Athian said, “So they say”.

  Mercy pointed out systems as she described them. “The power is derived from the cam rotation. You can shift the cams to modify the pull weight. The draw length is adjusted by this screw. I preset the pull weight and draw length to match your specific proportions.”

  Rapture guffawed.

  Mercy said, “The string includes a back side loop. This is for attachment of a mechanical release, one of which is built into the hand guard, here.”

  Visor donned the hand guard.

  Mercy pointed at the V-shape. “This gel-filled stabilizer minimizes vibration.” She touched a cylinder. “The sight has multiple range locators, which you will learn to use effectively with experience. This switch turns on a light multiplying function. This will allow you to see in low light situations. If the illumination fades, it can be recharged by intimate contact with an active conjoin.

  “The arrow shafts are an aluminum alloy with low-tolerance threading. Different heads may be attached. The field point heads may be replaced with broad head or broad blade analogs. Operated properly, this system will propel flight arrows in excess of two hundred miles per hour, minimizing wind effects. I provided you with an arrow puller, as these shafts and broad blade heads are significantly superior to alternatives. Further, your ammunition packs include an assortment of special-ordinance heads that are only usable once—concussive, tracer, self-oxidizing incendiary, cyborg-neutralizing, and armor-piercing, both kinetic and shaped-charge varieties. The weight of these heads limits their range. So that you can find the range, an adjustable dummy special-ordinance head is included in your pack.”

  “Are they labeled?”

  “You will find a detailed instruction manual in your possessions.”

  Visor strummed the string. “This isn't cat gut or hemp.”

  Mercy said, “The string is a composite polymer.”

  “I don’t have to wax it?”

  “A protective layer is not required. You may get it wet without fear of swelling.”

  Visor hooked a pin of the mechanical release through the string's back loop. He took a stance and fired the arrow. The motion of squeezing the mechanical release instead of opening his fingers to release the arrow made keeping his stance more natural. The reduced pull weight along with the stabilizer allowed him to maintain a near-perfect profile. “This is almost cheating.”

  Rapture said, “Yeah, almost.”

  “What is that?” Athian was pointing at a suit of full plate armor. It was spaced out on its support rack so that you could see it was sized for an ogre, albeit an unusually athletic ogre. Spikes were attached to the outer arm plates.

  There were lights flashing inside of it. Cespenar poked his head out.

  Mercy said, “It is a derivative of conventional fuel-cell powered heavy tactical assault armor with environmental suit internals. Your pixie should be careful as some of the spikes might still have active toxin injectors. I believe the fuel cell has been deactivated. The electrode-enhanced spikes should not be hot.”

  Athian said, “Nah, it’s okay. Pixies are a dime a dozen. It looks heavy.”

  Mercy said, “I’m sorry. I don’t understand.”

  “The armor—it looks heavy.”

  “It isn’t as heavy as it appears, due to its composite layering. While the harmonic metal does provide some protection, it is largely cosmetic and functions to protect the under layers from incidental abrasion. A ceramic mid-layer is integrated between the harmonic metal alloy that you see and an undercoat of para-aramid fiber. The ceramic layer provides counter-ordnance protection against armor-piercing projectiles. The fiber provides additional protection against fragmenting ammunition, protecting the gel skin-suit.”

  “Gel? Would that get sticky?”

  “The gel is contained within semi-permeable cellular packs. Among other functions, it can regulate body temperature, harden for impact distribution, alter buoyancy, and release anesthetic and coagulant into wounds. A reversible polarizing function provides additional protection against energy weapons.”

  “It does everything but light up.”

  “Lighting isn’t required because the helm is fitted with optical enhancers similar to the bow’s sight. It also provides respiratory filtration and limited independent air supply.” Mercy held up her forearms so that her sleeves slid back to reveal a set of metallic bracers. The bracers appeared to be symphonic metal. They were covered by brass-colored lettering and etchings of humanoids in a forest. The decoration of one was dominated by a blue sapphire surrounded by a ring of smaller diamonds and other gemstones. Overlaying the diamonds was a fine lattice work of gold and platinum. She removed the sapphire-laden bracer and proffered it to Rapture. “The metal is designed to collect and store Loadstone energy. It will amplify the conjoin effect of the wearer—your healing.”

  Rapture took it. “Oh my ... thank you.” Rapture donned the bracer. As she stroked the sapphire, her expression changed. “It's an azure moon!”

  Athian asked, “Azure moon?”

  Rapture said, “An azure moon—the moon reflected in water. It is what guided the sirens to Xandria in the flight from the banshee.”

  Athian said, “I heard some stories about that, when the sirens fought the banshee.”

  Rapture said, “It was the Nymph Fracture. Sirens are not originally from Xandria. We had a home before, Wacken. We were one race with the banshee—the race of nymphs. We lived in harmony with the satyrs. They would play instruments while we would dance and sing. The relationship soured. At some point, the satyrs took a nymph princess hostage. That sparked a war. In those days, the nymph voice was much more powerful. It could blow up rocks and call the dawn. At least that’s what the stories say.

  “The nymphs destroyed the satyrs. After the war, we couldn’t agree what to do. There was a ban on sonic attacks, but some didn’t like the ban. The nymph society fractured over whether we should live with war or peace. Those who believed in war became the banshee. The rest of us became the sirens. The sirens were driven out of Wacken. The banshee pursued us. They thought they’d be stronger without us.”

  Rapture slipped on the other bracer. “The sirens were on the run for months, led by Tempest. The story goes that Tempest would sing over pools and her falling tears would make shapes in the water. The ripples of her tears around the moon’s reflection would tell her which stars to follow. This is where it gets a little silly. Her tears pooled and froze, forming a sapphire. Legend has it that the Trail of Sapphires could lead you back to Wacken.”

  Visor said, “Sirenic tears have a blue tint. They can look like a sapphire when frozen.”

  “When the sirens reached the caves of the Xandria peninsula, Tempest stopped receiving guidance from the Azure Moon. The sirens decided to make a stand. They made their peace with nature and waited for the banshee attack, but it never came. On the tenth day of the seventh month of flight, the sirens founded their new home as Xandria.

  “It was later learned that the banshee stopped budding when they first turned on the sirens. That is why the banshee eventually gave up their chase and ultimately died out. It was the use of the sonic attack to kill other nymphs that cursed the banshee so that they could not bud. Using a sonic attack is a crime against nature—well, if it’s a sentient creature, especially a nymph.”

  Visor asked, “What about humans?”

  “I guess it depends on the human, and what he’s doing at the time.” Rapture held up her wrist and studied the sapphire. “The constellations that guided Tempest are represented by the gold designs over the twelve types of gemstones.”

  Mercy said, “That
is essentially correct. The constellations are—”

  Rapture’s eyes narrowed. “Essentially?”

  “I thought it was some kind of award!” Visor pressed his body against Rapture, stroking her rear and tummy.

  Rapture calmed down. “The azure moon is sometimes awarded for exceptional service, but only by the druid assembly. I am excommunicated. That can never happen.” Rapture inquisitively studied the sapphire. She caressed it. “It is responding to my words, lighting up.”

  Mercy said, “Yes, dearest siren. While you will likely never be awarded an azure moon in Xandria, you may be interested to know the unique history of this jewelry. It is not a naturally formed mineral. The sapphire was formed under controlled conditions to house the biological core. The crystal contains Lichtrinker, creatures too small for sirens and humans to see individually. Lichtrinker recognize a nymph’s signature sound waves and can respond by releasing an electro-magnetic pulse.

  “In Wacken, Lichtrinker permeated everything, even living creatures. Research reveals that a nymph in perfect harmony with Lichtrinker could use her voice to level mountains, spawn lighting, or even command hearts to cease beating. That was before the Fracture. Sirens fled Wacken and Lichtrinker were left behind. Lichtrinker require nymph interaction to survive. If the banshee truly died out, it follows that Lichtrinker did as well.

  “This clonal colony has survived in a dormant state, suspended in a collection of nymph tears. As this colony becomes tuned to your voice, it will magnify the effectiveness of your healing.

  “I should also mention that as this is the only colony of Lichtrinker known to exist, its value is beyond measure. By extension, it is also valuable to those who would wish you harm. Therefore, you should keep it secret as much as practically possible. I now present it to you, sirenic heroine, for services to be rendered.”

  Chapter 36

  Skarholt

  Visor halted his horse and focused into the distance. “That’s a lot of smoke.”

  “That doesn’t look controlled. It’s a wild fire.” Athian squinted. “Are we going to get caught in that?”

  Cespenar, perched on Athian’s shoulder, leaned forward and shielded his eyes. “Ooooh.”

  Visor said, “It looks pretty far south, but if our path turns and the wind blows the wrong way, it could be a problem.”

  “Should we start heading back?” Athian looked backwards to the east. The girls rode a ways behind. “We’ve got to be half way through Skarholt by now.”

  Visor said, “If we go back, then we still have to skirt the forest. Then we either risk ogre encounters or have to go the long way around. We came straight through to save time.” Visor addressed Cespenar. “We need to get a better view of how the fire is moving.”

  Cespenar saluted and flew off toward the smoke column.

  Visor said, “The trees are green. The brush is still moist from dew. The fire should move slowly. We can continue at a walk while we wait for Pixie. If it gets worse, we could always run back. What is that?”

  Athian plucked some tunes on his lute. “It’s a gift from Mercy. I don’t know what it’s made of, but is has a sexy sound.” He played a few more notes, testing the string tautness. He transitioned into a few short riffs.

  The girls neared and Rapture joined in with some vocal harmonic riffs. They played back and forth a bit and then settled together into last movement of Blue Lake. It was an instrumental, and Rapture’s voice was the finer instrument.

  Visor said, “Nice harmonic variation, Rap.”

  Rapture giggled and sang the main riff again. “You wrote it.”

  Visor said, “Well, a version, anyway.”

  Rapture said, “The original version. The school just copied it from you.”

  Sorana asked, “What is ‘harmonic’?”

  Rapture said, “They’re notes that sound good together.”

  Visor said, “They are notes that have a coincident frequency.”

  Everyone looked at Visor.

  Visor made a wave motion with his hand. “When notes have sound waves that reach zero amplitude—okay … sound. When I speak, my throat restricts the movement of air out of my lungs in such a way as to create waves of air. Our voice boxes vibrate very quickly, so these waves of air are small. The waves travel through the air from to your ears. Your ears feel these waves and relay the wave patterns to your brain. Your brain interprets the patterns into sound.

  “We can think of waves in the air like waves in the ocean.” Visor traced an imaginary series of waves with his hand. “If you measure from the very top of one wave to its bottom, you have the amplitude. If you measure from where a wave starts to where the next one starts, you have the frequency.

  “Now, if I have a second wave that is exactly half as long as the first, and they start at the same time, then every time the longer wave starts over, the shorter note is starting over, too. These two waves are in harmony.”

  Rapture said, “So, you’re saying they’re notes that sound good together?”

  Visor said, “Well, yes. What did they teach at Pimont’s?”

  Rapture said, “It’s Peadmont’s. And we pretty much memorized the notes in sets. I remember that octaves are harmonics—I mean the same notes in each octave, whatever. Where did you learn about the sound waves?”

  Visor shrugged. “I don’t know. I read it somewhere, I think.”

  Rapture said, “Ah, so Mercy. I see.”

  Athian said, “I want to try something.” He sang a note, then tried a higher note, but couldn’t hold it. “Rap, can you hold this?” He played a note on his lute.

  Rapture held the pitch.

  He turned to Sorana. “Can you match Rap?”

  Sorana did.

  Athian said, “Okay, Rap, find the next Harmonic up.”

  Rapture sung a higher note.

  Athian said, “That’s the next octave. There’s a harmonic in between. See if you can find that.”

  Rapture hit a note that combined with Sorana’s note to grate on the ears.

  Athian said, “Ouch.”

  Visor said, “And that is dissonance.”

  Rapture laughed.

  Sorana restarted her note, and Rapture found the harmonic above.

  Athian plucked the next harmonic up. Then, with an exaggerated nod, he started the main part of Blue Lake.

  The trio sang through the riff repeatedly, finding different harmonies on successive run-throughs. Visor conducted, and soon had the trio singing in rounds.

  Sorana sang a high, pinched-off note.

  Rapture said, “Oh, sweetie, you shouldn’t do that.”

  Athian said, “It sounded on pitch.”

  Rapture shook her head. “Yeah, but it’s her whistle register. It’s a bad habit. It can damage your voice. Most humans—and I guess vardal—shouldn’t sing beyond this.” She let out a quick trill between two high notes.

  Sorana asked, “Can you heal it?”

  Rapture said, “No, but don’t worry. It only happens if you do it a lot.”

  Visor said, “It’s not actually damage like a wound—just a learned physiological response.”

  Athian said, “Sorana, wasn’t your mom making you some new armor.”

  “No.”

  Athian said, “You were in some light chain—oh, I guess that was Rapture’s.”

  Rapture asked, “Why were you wearing mine?”

  Sorana said, “It was made for a vardal. Mother was fitting it to you. And making the leggings.”

  “Oh, really!” Rapture tugged at the skin-hugging fabric at the widest part of her thigh, up under the leather skirt.

  Athian said, “It really does look nice, Rap.”

  Sorana said, “I was just trying it on so mom had a model. Then she let it out.”

  Visor said, “Oh, crap.”

  Rapture said, “Well, that—”

  Athian said, “It looks l
ike she added some color as well—the dark outline with a brighter interior.”

  Sorana said, “It’s an optical effect to make her appear a smaller target in low light.”

  Rapture said, “Oh, mein Mond! That freaking witch! You know, I can just—” She tugged at her armor, trying to remove it. Her mount started forward.

  Visor pulled up beside her. “Look, I’m sure she just meant—I mean, Sorana is unusually lean, and she is half-vardal.”

  Rapture blubbered something nonsensical.

  Visor said, “You know you have the best body of any siren, and most situations—what?”

  Rapture had halted her horse. She was staring straight ahead. Her face went pale.

  Visor looked ahead. “Whoa!”

  Chapter 37

  Troll

  The creature was roughly human shaped, but eight feet tall with elongated arms and fingers that ended in claws. The rough, thick skin was covered with patches of greenish, moss-like fur. Its elongated nose protruded beyond two tusks. It matched the description of a troll, but trolls were extinct. Whatever it was seemed surprised, but not alarmed.

  Visor reached over to Rapture’s mount tugged its reigns. “Just head back and—”

  The troll howled and charged.

  Visor’s mount reared, lost its footing, and fell.

  Rapture, with the better-trained mount, retained control. She made a full turn and started moving, but the troll reached her before her horse accelerated.

  The troll’s claw dug into the horse’s hindquarters, causing the horse to whiney and swerve. The other claw caught the back of Rapture’s saddle.

  Rapture cried out.

  The troll held on, getting pulled off his feet.

  Rapture’s horse struggled to remain upright.

  Visor managed to get his leg out from under the horse before it fell, but his foot was caught up in his stirrup. His mount was not moving. He grabbed Mercy’s bow, Ninette, and took a kneeling position. He knocked an arrow.

  Rapture’s mount fell and the troll regained its balance.

  Visor loosed the arrow, striking the troll upper rear thigh. The arrow sunk deep.

  The troll paused and looked at him, but seemed to be in relatively little pain. It pulled the arrow out with a grunt.