Miranda, to her family, Frosty to her friends and Miss Frost to everyone else, very carefully did not slam her fists on the table. No matter how much she wanted to. Such an action was both beneath her and counterproductive. She aspired to a higher calling. One of frozen perfection and precise control.
So to the messenger's asinine report, she did not immediately respond. She stared for a few moments at the picture on the wall. A snow-covered vista from another time, another life. Where a small log cabin poked itself out of the pristine countryside surrounded by frocked trees. The place likely no longer existed, but the memory remained. Of an ugly world suddenly covered up and cleansed by heavy snowfall. All the tree stumps and piled refuse neatly hidden. The usual ugliness of her family’s summer cabin transformed beneath the perfection of snow. Looking at it calmed her, reminded her that no matter how deep the fuck up went, beauty was still just a heavy snowfall away.
“One more time please.” Her voice was even, steady. Unencumbered by the fizzling useless human rage.
“Milady, Aspen instructed me to convey his polite but firm refusal. He thanks you for the warning but he claims the beast wave is no threat to the commune.”
It was no less idiotic the second time she heard it. “Prey tell, what reason does he offer for that rather… outrageous claim?”
The messenger, no, Swiftfoot, shuffled his suddenly not-so-swift feet awkwardly back and forth for a few moments, noticeably swallowing, then coughing, then FINALLY he spoke. “He ahh, they claim… Um, that is-”
“I’m not angry with you Swiftfoot. At least not yet. But if you continue to waste precious time on mumbling instead of giving me your message in a fast and accurate manner, why, that might change. Speak damn you! The beast wave is not 15 minutes out!”
If anything his face paled even further. She did not sigh, it was partially on her, she should know better than to try and scare a scared man into talking.
She attempted to force her normally glacial tone down to something a bit more approachable as she turned away. No longer fixing him with her gaze. “Your report if you please.”
“-Ahh, yes. Umm-” She considered interrupting him again, but what was the point? It would make the report even less timely. His feet might have been named after his swift feet, but if this continued she'd see about sticking him with Stutter-tongue instead! “They say, that is, they claim their efforts to harmonize with their surroundings, and the avoidance of any mana concentrations will leave them unnoticed. The beasts won't bother with them.”
Her fingernails dug into her palms as she desperately forced her jaw to stay closed. Fucking morons! But what the hell could she do about it? There was no time, and even if there had been, you could not argue with stupidity. They provided no evidence, and little logic, only faith, and thus their position was unassailable...
There was the barest thread of truth in their claim. Mana accumulations were the primary draw for a beast wave, without them the commune was less likely to draw attention. But correspondingly, mana represented power and defenses. To forgo the first for the rest was madness.
With their little treehouse not three miles away, even if they didn't draw an attack, one aimed for the Hold might hit them by accident. And should that happen, well. She doubted the horde would turn down travel rations.
She ground her teeth. The bunny was in harmony as nature intended, that didn’t mean the wolves didn't eat them!
“Thank you, return to your post.” Still staring at the winter wonderland she waited till he left the room before turning back to her council.
“Your thoughts?”
Galveston set his mug down, absently wiping a ring of foam from the table, then some more from his heavy mustache. “Just as well. Either they are right and the beast wave bypasses them, or they are wrong and they would have been run down in the open.”
She looked at him confused, “It’s only 3 miles.”
He nodded, “And Aspen and his five ‘brothers’ could race the wave easily. But the two dozen norms under their care could not.” Right, she fought the urge to face-palm. Norms so rarely left the hold that she'd forgotten that little tidbit. He'd convinced a crop of the useless to join him in his stupidity. And norms moved - her thoughts stuttered a bit at the unusual demands. Ask her how fast the average group could move and she knew it by tier, name and number. But she'd never bothered to check the norms for the same.
Scraping away at her memory, she managed to find something. Old world track events, what was a fast time for a mile? Six minutes? Maybe faster for real athletes, but that was on a track. Maybe half again that much as a guesstimate? Three times nine – she nearly swore again. A half hour!? Nothing to be done then. She didn’t bother to suggest they leave the norms behind. They’d taken responsibility for them when they left the hold. They could come back with their charges or not at all. The price of responsibility, and of stupidity.
“Can we help…” She trailed off sadly. They would have had a fighting chance if they'd left 15 minutes ago when the first warnings came in. Now, it was in the hands of fate. To help them... she couldn't in good conscience send troops to fight a running battle while trying to protect norms on the fly in the middle of a tide. Not for a best-case scenario of 10 minutes in the open. Not when fighting outside the fixed defenses against the tide of maddened beasts was already insane. And would cost the lives of irreplaceable men and women. “No. I guess we can't.”
She concluded, glancing around the table at the 4 middle-aged men and 1 old woman who frequently supported her with their wisdom. None looked happy about it (she wasn’t happy either!) but none offered any objections. Adelson opened his mouth to speak, closed it again, then made a few more aborted attempts at speaking before shaking his head with regret and looking down at the table.
She did not sigh again. No matter how much she wanted to. It was neither ladylike nor would it display the state of control she aspired to. “Close the gates and prepare to receive our visitors.”
She rapped the table with the gavel and placed it down, then stood up and marched out of the meeting room. She didn't have to look to feel them follow. She led the way to the walls, taking a few moments to observe the turn out of the guard force. A nod of approval to those who managed the deployment without chaos or delays and merely a look of disapproval for those who did not.
They needed to know she was watching. She noticed both hard work and their mistakes. Both would receive their appropriate award in time.
In plenty of time, they were all formed up in their appointed positions. Ready and waiting to show these beasts the power that an intact intelligence could bring to bear.
The ground began to shake and leaves, most the length of her forearm and some considerably bigger fell from the trees in a disquieting counterpoint. Constant rumbling shook the ground. So different from the usual deceptive background noise. Where birds chirped and leaves swayed in the wind giving the illusion of peace.
She let the thought fade away, forcing herself to live in the now, loose and semi-relaxed. Ready for whatever may come. Then they broke through the covering trees and underbrush. Hogs to the fore as expected, but they weren't alone. Above them, another host approached. Either by leaping or flying a series of shadows danced between the tree branches overhead. Some bouncing from branch to tree and back. Others flying. Scavengers, she judged. Not really with the ground-bound, but more than willing to enjoy the fruits of their labor. Or to fish a bit in troubled waters.
They weren't a threat if the main thrust was properly handled.
If. She nodded, she had best make sure they met that standard then.
“Begin!” She shouted and great embossed circles of magic lit up at intervals along the wall. Each with a guardian standing at the center in the caster’s pose. One arm directed to the front, palm upright and facing the enemy. The other grasping the wrist of the first. On the outstretched palm, a tattoo glittered and swam to life. Glowing ever brighter as it absorbed and tuned the directed mana. They'd tried pointing at one point, but there wasn't enough room on a finger for the top-of-the-line tattoos. That and the index finger was never going to work. It would have had to be the ring finger, the one directly connected to the heart. It was uncomfortable pointing at something with that finger.
The glowing lights gathered too their hands, ever brighter until they reached a climax, exploded outward in large spectral lions, already roaring out their hatred, anger and absolute desire to protect the cubs. Emotional magic of the ice school required its caster to store up emotions and release them at need. A process that was symbolically linked to the heart.
The emotions contained in the heart and channeled correctly would never affect the mind. The mind, untroubled by distractions, provided control and directions. The heart provided power.
And it was powerful. Beasts went mad, fear, rage and a berserk confusion ran rampant through the ranks. Beasts killed beasts in rage, in a desire to escape and to just stop the pain.
The defenders weren’t done either. Sheets of ice formed right before the portion of the beasts that continued to charge, destroying their balance and control even as earth speakers drew stone spikes from the ground to meet them and flame dancers ignited pits filled with dried, but still oil-impregnated, castor plants into apocalyptic blazes.
Yes, they were prepared!
The attack lasted most of the day, but aside from one young burnout case, there were no casualties.
At least not within the walls.
Scouts soon brought word that the commune, its wooden platform once proudly situated 60 feet up the side of one of the great trees, was but a blood-splattered jumble of wood and vines piled on the jungle floor. There were no intact corpses and little enough besides blood to say that there ever had been occupants.
She nodded with no expression, hiding the horror within, to their reports, then sent them off for a well-deserved meal. It was as she’d expected, but it still hurt. What hurt worse was the whispers that began to spread.
Whispers that she didn’t even try to save them, and worse, that she did not care.
People who once thanked her in the streets for her help would take great steps to avoid her shadow falling on them. Services once offered quickly and with a smile became slow and sullen.
Even the defenses suffered as the guard details could not be filled with volunteers and emergency drills were not attended.
No!
She shook her head, that would not work. She spent a bit longer staring at her winter wonderland. Trying to find some inspiration in its familiar comfort. She waited while Swiftfoot left the room, then turned back to her councilors.
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
“Your thoughts?”
Galveston set his mug down and wiped some remaining foam from his heavy mustache. “Just as well. Either they are right and the beast wave bypasses them, or they are wrong and they would have been run down in the open.”
She nodded, feeling a brief moment of disquiet, before lasering in on the issue at hand.
“Saving them may not be possible, and even trying will subject whoever goes to a fight with short sight lines and no fixed defenses. Nevertheless, we need to try.” She could withstand the cold shoulders and the contempt, if with difficulty. But 100 guardians at half efficiency due to a breakdown of trust or 80-90 at 100%. The math didn’t seem to favor doing the smart thing.
“...away from our defenses? Out in the jungle during a beast wave? This is…” Adelson stopped, clearly biting his tongue for a moment then continued in a much milder tone “-is this wise?”
“No, it’s not wise. Not at all. But letting our people think I’m not willing to face risks to save fellow humans might be worse.”
Looking around she saw disagreement on several faces, not just Adelson's usual intransigence. She couldn’t even blame them for it. Without calculating where the safe, smart path would end, she would, and did, think it was foolish too.
“Trust me this time. We must try. Now, to the practical side of things, I can’t ask anyone to go out there if I’m not willing to do the same. So I will be leading the rescue force.” She drove over the top of their open-voiced objections. “I know, I’m responsible for too many things to risk my life without a corresponding gain, but I really do see too big of a threat not to go. I mean it. No leader can send her troops out on a risky run like this if she’s not willing to go herself!”
The arguments would have continued for hours if she’d let them, but time waits for no woman. Merely three minutes later she was outside at the head of a squad of twenty volunteers, all that could be spared from the hold’s defenses. At a full sprint, the three miles sped past in under 10 minutes, killing a few beasts in self-defense without pausing to harvest the bodies. Magic-aided leaps and bodies well-fortified with Tiered beast meat made old world Olympic records look leisurely and even anemic.
If they were lucky, she mused, coming to a stop next to the massive trunk, looking up at the tree fort, a series of light wickerwork homes sandwiched between two wooden platforms circling the massive trunk. Parts of the bottom platform rested on low branches and massive cables reached from the bottom to the top then on up to tie off to even large branches above. Enough support, shelter and room for the almost 30 nutjobs to live the rest of their perhaps short lives.
That won’t help you convince them, let it go. She took a deep breath and tried to shift her frame of mind. The beast wave was minutes away at best. They didn’t have time for pointless arguments.
“Aspen!” A smidgen of magic projected her quiet voice, she didn’t dare to shout this far out. “We’re coming up. Either drop the ladders or I’ll use magic to make one. Not something either of us wants with the wave so close.”
She wasn’t bluffing either. She’d prefer not to use active magic right here, right now. But if this jackass didn’t move fast enough there was no way she was leaving her people out in the open. A few ice knobs on the side of the trunk and they would jump up the damn thing like mountain goats.
Either Aspen read her willingness or wasn’t willing to risk it. Three rope ladders dropped together in less than 30 seconds and they swarmed up the sixty feet in even less than that.
“What are you doing here!” Aspen, a slim and pretty man, all long legs and wide shoulders with sunken cheeks like some kind of model despite his middling age. Well, they were model-like looks if you discounted the rather large vertical scar bisecting his left eye through the edge of his lip and down to his chin. He was already making demands before she even found her feet. Thankfully they were hushed demands, but not a whisper that would paradoxically carry even farther.
She cut right through his BS. “We're trying to save your fool ass. I assure you I would prefer to be behind our nice thick walls standing on top of a magic amplification circle and actually helping my people survive. Instead, I'm stuck trying to save you and yours from yourselves.”
This was her decision. There was no way to evacuate the commune in the time available. So the best she could do was to help defend it.
“You’re not saving us! It's endangerment! You have too much magic in you. All of you. It will draw them like flies to shit. We are quiet and we can hide, or we could if you didn't bring 20 mages, chock full of magic to mess things up!” He visibly paused to calm himself, “At least you had the sense to ask for the ladders. Thank you for that.”
She nodded regally, choosing not to restart a pointless argument. He was willing to be reasonable, she needed to do the same. Besides, the faint rumble of hoofs on the earth was vibrating the floor beneath her, even if she couldn't quite hear it yet.
Several quick gestures split her team into groups of 4 in each cardinal direction, with the remaining 4 looking up. No point trying to coordinate with Aspen and his brothers. They had seconds before the storm, and building up effective teams took months to years.
Still, if they couldn’t work as one group, then they could still work as allies. All of her troops were well practiced together and Aspens had not been gone so long that his group didn’t at least know the basics of working alongside them. Despite their stupidity, they were still fully equipped and experienced guardians. They also sported a ‘cat’ fur cloak. The damn things were hot as hell and unwieldy to boot. But they hid mana signatures, to a point and for a time. Nothing was perfect. Hopefully, it would be enough to at least let the first waves pass.
“For what we are about to receive.” She subvocalized. The rumbling had dramatically increased and now she could hear it as well, the thunder that foretold the storm. And the shaking was getting worse. Like an earthquake as felt by a T-ball on its stand. It wasn’t at all pleasant to be hanging off the side of a tree while it wobbled to and fro. She glanced back in concern to the lightweight homes behind her. Hoping against hope that the norms within had thought to take objects off of shelves and lie on the floor. Otherwise, there were going to be several headaches in the near future.
Then she pushed it from her mind. Peaking over the edge of the platform she watched the hogs come in like the tide. They called it a beast wave for a reason. Like the surf crashing on the beach, the tide came in. In numbers too large and moving too fast to count. Clumped up like a herd of bison from some old cowboy movie.
A herd that approached, then passed by without paying them any attention. A breath she hadn’t realized she was holding slipped out of her. Ok, so Aspen wasn’t completely wrong. Without obvious mana stores, they weren’t noticed… for now. Their scent was surely on the wind, and hogs had a great sense of smell, but the magic of the hold was too much of a draw for them to bother.
Then again, she glanced up at the canopy above and across at some low-hanging branches. It wasn’t just the hogs she was worried about. The scavengers were coming, following along behind the tide. Birds and arboreal chameleon cats, leopards bigger than a man who could hide in plain sight, moving between the trees at a layer higher than the tree fort and completely capable of seeing the sandwich of wood filled with all those tasty humans. The cats will have a bit of trouble climbing out and around the top layer, but the birds won’t. Then again, the cats were nearly invisible, so it was a bit of a wash. It was going to be a rough day.
Especially, she grimaced looking below, as they would need to keep magic usage to a relatively low level. With a grimace she accepted a spear from Aspen, watching as her troops picked them up as well. They didn’t need to pull some martial arts exhibit and stab everything to death. Just discourage them for a time, until the bodies lying about became so plentiful that they would find better, and easier prey.
The first few birds, orange vested falcons, were discouraged by the close-set cables linking the bottom deck to the top. With a wingspan of over 5 feet that was a bit too close for them. At least not without a much more pressing need, but their racial magic, an ability to throw out blades of wind from their wings, were certainly still a threat, not just to the defenders but to the rope supports themselves.
Like many predators, they weren’t interested in spending more effort than the prey was worth. With merely a curious look or three, they passed on by. But their luck didn’t hold. The up team was gesticulating widely, a sight that would be humorous under different conditions. They were each standing on top of crates, tables and whatever else they could find to reach the upper surface. Feeling as much as listening, for the impacts.
And impacts they indeed felt. Cats above, their hands spoke. It might be tricky to make the jump from the top ring to the bottom, but tricky wasn’t impossible. And being unable to see them without magic help… No, a bit of magic would have to be risked.
Gesturing briefly to Aspen, she took a deep breath and blew out a thin wisp of fog. Smoke-like, but cold and clean. Scented with juniper berries. It spread quickly, a thin ring of smoke like the bulging filling of an Oreo. Cats might be invisible, but the eddies of their passage would not be. It was a very minor magic, but still, she glanced below with no little trepidation. There was no reaction. Her shoulders loosened a bit in relief. They could not survive this with a few pointy sticks. Not against invisible cats and circling buzzards.
Almost as if she’d called them, familiar black, white and orange shapes slid into view in the distance. Buzzards they called them, though some preferred vultures. Either worked, and either way it was bad. They were not falcons to make logical decisions about effort vs reward. 150lbs of pure meanness and spite with a 10-15 foot wingspan. They would not pass by, nor would they approach. Not while their prey was capable of defense.
The first screams started while she dithered. Unsure of how much magic it was safe to use. Glowing white outlines broke off of their approaching forms to strike straight through the ropes, homes, tree trunk and anything else physical in a straight line. Delivering nasty blows directly to the mind.
One hit was bad, like a willow switch striking across your bare back, it took a very strong person not to flinch. That was just one though, and buzzards rarely acted alone. Five of them together was less a switch and more a baseball bat. One of her defenders dropped, blood dripping from his nose. Plane bad look, four spectral shapes hit him at once.
The vultures lazily circled. Past experience told her they had about 30 seconds before they were served up the next batch of psychic pain and hate. Risk or no, they couldn't just sit and take it. With a quick series of gestures, she gave a simple command. Each guardian who was capable of ice magic, most considering her path, made a few simple gestures and breathed out into the fog. Its colors paled as it thickened from a light smoke into a nearly opaque mist that radiated cold and left a thin layer of her namesake on the ropes and platform edges. A bit of dangerous footing was no small benefit against the cats as well.
Then with several mystic gestures and a quiet chant, the fog exploded outward to envelop the hateful birds. Frost on the wings, and if she was lucky in their throats, would quickly ground the damn things. And ground in this situation was a quick trip to the afterlife. Couldn’t happen to a better group of assholes.
The momentary impact of a nearly invisible creature with the ground at the same time raised her spirits. But it was only for a moment. Then they dropped like a rock into the pit of her stomach. A full passel of hogs slowed their helter-skelter dash, sniffing the air in hunger and rage. While the tree house was nominally out of their reach… She cringed as the first body launched itself like a giant’s lawn dart at upwards of 30 miles an hour.
The thought was a fleeting one as a series of porcine missiles shattered the platform, her men, and herself.
No!
She couldn’t see it. How to protect without drawing an attack. How she could avoid using magic and still defend? It wouldn’t take much.
The winter wonderland painting offered her no answers as she stared into its depths. At last, she sighed, they didn’t have much time and she couldn’t keep putting off the decision.
“Your thoughts?”
Galveston set his mug down and wiped some remaining foam from his heavy mustache. “Just as well. Either they are right and the beast wave bypasses them, or they are wrong and they would have been run down in the open.”
Hearing those seemingly reasonable words almost pushed her over the edge. Her fingers dug into her palms with enough force that she felt them grow slightly wet.
Her voice rose unconsciously, “Then WHAT should we do? If we do nothing they die and our people lose faith in us. They’ll think that I don’t care! If we send troops out, in a beast wave, in the open, without fixed defenses, then we throw them to their deaths. WHAT THE HELL CAN WE DO?” The glaciers were long since melted, and lava dripped down the cliffs in their place. She slammed her hands down on the table, leaving bloody prints beneath them as she grit her teeth in rage and frustration.
What the hell was wrong with people? Doing the smart thing led to destruction. Doing the dumb thing led to destruction. What the fuck else could they do?!
She took several deep breaths, attempting to slip into the mantra of control she’d learned in school. But despite having the correct form, the spirit was not there and calm eluded her grasp.
Red-eyed she looked up at her council, taking in their shocked faces without really noticing. Rage began to die as frustration and sorrow took its place. “What can we do?”
She looked up at them, lost for a moment, ice eyes reduced to a child hoping for an answer to an insoluble problem. “Please! What can we do?”
Adelson sighed, standing up to walk to her side and wrap his arms around her shaking shoulders. “There is nothing we can do to save them. But you’ve made the right first move.”
Strangling a pathetic sob before it could leak out she glanced up at him in confusion. “I have?”
“Yes, dear. You have. They made their choice and will have to live or die as a consequence. You can’t save them, but you also can’t be inured to the loss. You have to feel it, and you have to be seen to feel it.”
“...That's it? That’s the solution I can’t find? Just go out there with my heart on my sleeves and bawl like a child?”
“Haaaa, it’s always two steps forward, one back with you Miss Frost. They don’t need you to bawl, they just need you to share their pain. They just don't want their leader to be an unfeeling glacier. Someone so cold that they will throw people to their deaths without regret. They want a living, breathing, feeling young woman who will do her best to see them through this tragedy. And I didn’t say it was a solution. People will still be unnecessarily dead, and some will blame you for it. No matter how foolish that is.”
“It is a mitigation of the consequences, nothing more. Sometimes that’s the best you can expect.”
They just wanted to see her suffer? What the hell was wrong with people?