Chapter One Hundred and Five
Desperate Measures
Jack ripped up his crossbow and yelled, “Again! Fire at will!”
He snapped his bolt into the nearest Soiltorn and a flurry of arrows followed.
The tide of Nikereus’ front line rampaged toward Raeken as the Legacies scrambled onto his back. Weapons were raised and the distance closed when the hailstorm of projectiles came thundering down, slaughtering anyone within five feet of the dragon for a brief instant.
Carter weakly clung on and looked desperately to his sister as she grabbed Archie’s body. “Sarah!”
Raeken sprayed another wide arc of acid into the nearest soldiers but a spear slipped through the madness, driving into his front right leg. Raeken screeched, lurching back, before launching back into the sky, narrowly avoiding a downpour of Obthraie spears.
Carter, James, and Carlisla held on for dear life as the small beast effortlessly lifted them, sweeping his wings downward, casting out forks of jade lightning across the sky.
Jack tore down the archer line, shouting, “Keep firing!” before he slid to a stop beside an enormous, central lever, taller than himself.
He latched his hands onto the great switch as Sidney sprinted to his side and yelled, “I hope you know what you’re doing!”
They cranked the lever and the chains suspending the drawbridge went slack. The world held its breath as the colossal wooden bridge teetered backward and then toppled to the soil, where it hit the ground with a thunderous, cataclysmic boom, shaking the very hills and fortress alike.
Sarah was now trudging toward the fallen drawbridge as fast as she could with Archie’s body in a fireman’s carry. As Nikereus’ army attempted to follow her, Sarah ran across the first row od arcane rune snares and the ice-traps triggered. Spikes of white ice erupted from the soil, sending entire units of Obthraie to oblivion. Others tried to avoid the icicles and instead columns of fire burst from the soil like compact volcanoes, incinerating entire packs of hounds. Sarah felt the ground tremble as gorges opened up and swallowed Mountain Wolves, all while her muscled shoulders screamed under the weight of the boy.
More arrows rained down narrowly behind her as traps exploded with flame, lightning, poison, and frost. Sarah’s feet pounded across the drawbridge toward the sealed gate. Despite the volume of magical traps, hundreds of Shanii were still in a ravenous pursuit and not far behind.
Up on the battlements, Raeken’s croaking roar filled the sky, frightening a few dozen Legacies out of his landing-path as he came screeching in. He lowered his body down so Carter and Carlisla could slump off and aided James carefully to the floor. Michael and their allies came sprinting toward them.
“James!” Michael screamed. “Lillian, help!”
The moment Raeken could no longer feel any riders on his back, he leapt onto the ramparts and dove toward the bridge.
Nikereus’ dark voice was yet to be rid of the vocal enchantment and as they bellowed Fiend-Speak commands, the entire array began forcing itself through the protective spells, sacrificing entire platoons to the moat and the traps as others pushed forth onto the bridge.
Sarah slid to a stop before crashing into the enormous fort gate. She lowered Archie to the ground, stuck her fingers into her mouth and gave an ear-bleeding whistle. She looked down the bridge to see hundreds of Soiltorn storming toward her.
“Please be there.”
Sarah ripped off her sword belt with the sabre still in its scabbard. She gripped the length of steel by the centre and grabbed Archie around his waist, dragging him to the edge of the platform.
Sidney shouted from the height of the wall, “Sarah, you got to leave him!”, seeing the hordes of Obthraie barrelling within ten feet.
Sarah didn’t even slacken her grip. “Raeken!” She held him as tight as she could as the Creations poured in and they forced her to the edge of the bridge. “Fuck it.”
With Archie latched in her arm she threw herself off of the drawbridge. The girl and the dead boy went hurtling toward the black sludge of the moat. Sarah raised her sword and belt high, shouting unintelligibly.
The entire world resounded with thunder.
The dragon ripped himself into a dive, barrelled downward, talons wide and latched his back hind claws onto Sarah’s sword before wrenching himself back up in a violent swoop.
Sarah’s boots and legs dragged through the moat as did much of Archie but they pulled up narrowly and with a wind sweeping barrage of flapping wings, they blew back into the sky as stone weapons shattered behind them.
Back up on the battlements Michael was cradling James’ head. The back-half of his spear was still in his stomach. “James, open your eyes!” He shook him but the boy was nearly grey. His entire body was thrumming with dull green veins. “What’s he doing?”
Carter was barely able to hold himself up. His face was blue and black with bruising and his head swam with the many concussions, but he was alive. “I don’t know. He should be dead. He must be healing himself.”
“He’s turning grey, he’s not healing himself!”
Lillian and her assistant burst through the crowd and saw James. She did a quick survey, looking Carlisla over. Her arm was mangled like it had been caught in a mincer. She pointed at James. “Priority, take him now. Carly, get to the med-bay, I’ll help you as soon as I can.”
“I can fight.”
Lillian stood at her full height. “For what? Two seconds? Get to the med-bay, now.”
Carlisla lowered her eyes angrily and helped Carter and Jordan the medical assistant carry the heavy, unconscious boy. Michael went to help when a pair of strong hands gripped his shoulders.
“Michael, I need you here!” shouted Jack.
All the noise seemed to merge together in his mind. Things were slowing down and his heart was speeding up. The army was pouring all over the basin and war chants were turning his mind numb.
A wave of magical energy rattled through the entire valley, flowing across the grass like a heatwave, and Nikereus’ voice emanated from every point it touched.
“I was willing to grant you all until the Eighteenth. And then you played your silly trick in the night. To be honest, I was impressed. I didn’t expect such lowly work. But as they say… fool me once.”
The voice went silent and the dark soldiers of soil and stone began stomping their feet in horrid unison, sending the hideous grated pounding across the entire valley. As the noise grew louder and louder, howls and barks rang out across the wide array, and the entire army began forcing their way toward the drawbridge as well as spilling around the circumference of the entire stronghold, only kept back by the moat.
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Jack turned grabbed the drawbridge lever, forcing it up back with a grunt as the machining churned and clicked within the walls, reeling in the monolithic chains and raising the platform. The hundred or so soldiers still upon it were sent over the sides and into the muck or slamming down into the iron doors as the incline became steeper and steeper, ending in a foul, stone crack as the drawbridge crushed them against the fortress main gate.
Sidney sprinted down the line, shouting, “Archers, fire at will! Ballistae report to your stations. Prioritise groups and Mountain Wolves! Move now!”
Jack grabbed Michael and shook him back to reality as he shouted, “Are you with me?”
Michael looked idly around to see his friends were and slowly nodded.
“I need you here. Keep your eyes open, watch the fields. Prioritise the fire on whoever you think needs it. Oswald! You and Williams are in command, here!”
This woke Michael up. “What! Why me?”
Jack looked at him and took his shoulder. “Because I need someone who will hold the line even when everyone starts to run. I need you.” Jack turn and bolted for his position.
Aroha erupted from down the line of archers, yelling to Michael, “Get over here!”
The platoons of Obthraie, no longer able to cross the moat, began to divide down the middle of their enormous array, creating a long strip of land in the army’s centre, like they had for Nikereus’ entrance.
Howls filled the midday sky as three bounding Mountain Wolves erupted into the straightaway and began tearing across the mud, headed straight toward the gap before the main gate and upheld drawbridge.
Michael watched Jack run off, casting out other orders as Michael himself ran down to Aroha, shakily fitting an arrow onto his bowstring.
He fell in with the ranger as she shouted out, “Guardians, ready?”
The order was echoed down the line by other Legacies until the entire front-facing defence was locked in with crossbow bolts or long arrows.
Aroha glanced over and saw Michael standing uncertainty. She hooked her bow-hand fingers around the arrow to keep it nocked and grabbed him by the arm. “Michael?”
Michael blinked and nodded and stepped into the line-up, looking blearily out over the besieging army. He couldn’t focus. All he could see was the splinter of stone in James’ stomach and Carter’s broken face.
“Remember, everyone!” Aroha shouted, turning her attention back to the attackers. “Each time you fire, pick a damn target. Don’t just waste an arrow on the space between an entire fuckin’ mob!”
Aroha watched the enormous, barrelling wolves moving quickly toward the edge of the moat and she nervously glanced to the ballistae further down the wall on either side of her.
The young Legacy at the helm of massive machine to her left was struggling to load their javelin-bolt. The ballista operator to her right was shaking, trying to line up the shot.
Aroha gritted her teeth and sighted the central wolf, yelling, “Target the incoming Yiraa. Fire on my arrow. Draw!”
Michael pulled back his iron-tip and felt a drop of sweat glisten down his temple. Part of him knew he was on the edge of shock, and part of him knew he was in the middle of a war, but a small, deep and young piece of his mind, sat quietly, shielding itself from reality, and latched onto the ranger’s voice alone.
“Hold!”
The first of the three Mountain Wolves, covered in dark, straggly moss, was bounds away from the edge of the moat, gnashing its long, stone teeth.
Aroha watched its great paws splash into the mud and let her bowstring whip forward, launching her silver arrow through the sunlight. “Loose!”
It glinted as it flew, and behind it, a cloud of followers came hurtling after, slamming into the enormous hounds like a hailstorm, viciously turning two of the beasts to sludge, skidding into nothing as they collapsed, while the third and angriest threw itself over the moat with an almighty leap.
The survivor slammed into the raised drawbridge, managing to wedge its monstrous claws into the wooden planks, while snapping high at the right-most beam of wood. The struggling beast tore off an enormous chunk of timber before slipping into the moat with a strangled, cavernous shriek.
The bizarre act brought Michael from the depths of his shock and he looked to Aroha with a deep frown across his face. “Are they trying to break the drawbridge?”
“No, the fuckers are trying to rip it back down so they can use it to cross.”
Beneath one of the stripped planks of wood, the iron chain keeping it aloft was narrowly exposed.
Aroha looked back up as three more Mountain Wolves were readying themselves to charge and she yelled, “The chains! They’re trying to break the chains! Get those ballistae in order, now!”
As she shouted the last command, Michael nocked another arrow just in time to see hundreds of the Soiltorn forging through the runic snares, going up in flames or freezing to the very spot just so they could edge closer to the moat. His eyes flittered in panic and tried to get Aroha’s attention but she waved him off, still shouting down the line.
The Soiltorn who survived then stepped as close to the edge as possible and summoned long, dark slivers of stone to their many hands and turned side-on to the fortress.
“Ari!”
“Not now, Michael!”
“Everybody down!” Michael screamed, tackling Aroha to the ground beneath cover as a storm of rock shards slammed into the battlements or whistled overhead, showering them in fragments of stone.
Blood curdled screams filled the air, and Michael lifted his head from Aroha just in time to see at least two Legacies fall from the top of the walls with long, jagged spears through their bodies. They fell quickly from sight but their armoured bodies hit the soil below with grotesque, metallic cracks!
Michael kept himself prone for a moment and then glanced over the ramparts.
Those who’d cast the stone were now standing unevenly, just shy of having to steady themselves, and the Mountain Wolves were nearing the final stretch of their sprint.
Michael stood upright, nocked his arrow again and charged it with starfire. A bloody red light tore down his hand and bled into the projectile. “Everyone up!” he shouted, looking down the line-up to see Lain fitting another bolt into her crossbow. “Lain! Get on the ballista and tell that useless prick to pick up something easier to use!”
Lain took off down the battlements toward the Legacy still struggling to fit the javelin in place and ripped them off of the device.
“Commanders, eyes front!” a voice shouted in amongst the madness.
Michael and Aroha turned to see the three Mountain Wolves moving faster than they could’ve believed, almost all the way to the edge of the moat, as they both shouted, “Nock and fire at will!”
A weak shower of arrows fell over the creatures, killing only one as the two others bounded to the end of the straightaway and leapt across the gap, driving their claws into the panelling of the bridge with an ungodly chorus of groaning wood. They began tear away at the planks as Michael and Aroha ordered more arrows and crossbow bolts into their hanging masses, but nothing seemed to loosen their hold.
Lain took one look at the unfitted javelin and smashed it with her fist, knocking it into the chamber with a click and hum of golden electricity, curtesy of the Immortal Flame. Without a second’s warning, she lined it up to the first Yiraa hanging from the bridge and fired the golden spear through its ribcage with an arc of yellow lightning trailing behind it.
The monster burst into smoke as it fell, dead. The second Yiraa, however, reached up and ripped off an enormous panel of wood, exposing many small, structural crossbars within the platform.
Michael and Aroha fired starfire arrows and immortal-flamed bolts through the creature, but despite looked haggard, its deeply dug claws kept shredding the timber.
“Lain, fire again, damn-it!” Aroha shouted, reaching for an arrow to find her quiver empty, and snatched up a spare crossbow.
“I’m reloading!”
The Mountain Wolf snarled and dug its claws into the wood. It began pulling itself higher and higher as the archers filled it with arrows.
Michael went pale as snow. “It's climbing!”
“Get out of my way! Move!”
Sidney shouldered through crowd, stepped up onto the rampart with her steel quarterstaff in hand as black energy coursed through her back and skull, running like rivers of molten stone down into the tips of her fingers. She looked to the gnashing teeth of the Mountain Wolf hanging mere feet below and sent a deep surge of magic into the core of her weapon as a droplet of blood rolled down from either eye. The dark guardian raised her emblazoned-staff and shouted over her shoulder, “You’re all Legacies, now act like it!” She drove her weapon down with a teeth-baring shout and split the entire Yiraa in half, like a landslide of slate, dropping it into the moat.
Michael and Aroha leant against the battlement in relief as Sidney turned and stepped back down off the battlement. “You want me to stick around or...”
Aroha huffed a small laugh, and then idly saw the entire line of archers duck into cover again. Her face paled. “Sid, down!”
Before Sidney could process it, a two-foot sliver of cold, dark slate blew through her side and another glanced her shaven head, grazing her scalp and knocking her unconscious. Her upper body began to kilter as it crumbled and twisted over the edge of the great wall.
Aroha dove forward as the lieutenant fell, grabbing her by the wrist. The weight of the woman nearly snapped Aroha’s wrist but she bore the swinging weight for a moment. All her effort was straining her to silence and before she could yell, the young ranger lost her anchoring grip on the platform.
Michael threw himself after them, grabbing Aroha’s waist as she went over too, while another set of Legacies grappled his legs. He let out a tortured scream of agony as his skin tore and ribs bent over the edge of the battlements, keeping Aroha and Sidney alive by the skin of a three-fingered grip.