Chapter One Hundred and Nine
Plan F
“Michael, two Yiraa approaching! They won’t go down!” shouted Lain, fumbling another crossbow bolt into place.
The archer sprinted over to the rampart and shouted, “Nock!” drawing back his string with a bolt of thrumming light.
As the moss-covered Mountain Wolves came bounding forward, Magnus and Rose came sprinting from Michael’s right, and the flurry of arrows and crossbow bolts went down in a whipping volley, filling the monsters like pincushions. Both behemoths shrieked out in pain, dripping dark, sludgy essence, but neither fell.
As the defenders restocked, Rose raised her crossbow while Michael held his original shot, breathing slowly. Rose watched him as the blood-red light roared through his veins. He looked rather like Jack.
Michael glanced her out of the corner of his eye and blinked in a double take. The red of the light softened but before he could speak a monstrous bellow sounded, ripping his focus back down.
Before the rest of the archers had nocked their second lot of arrows, Michael let the Arcancy explode from his fingertips, and the bolt of scarlet light ripped through the right-most creature’s skull, turning them instantly stone dust.
Magnus’ bright eyes widened in shock.
Michael lowered his bow, feeling his hands shake from pain and commanded, “Draw and… loose!” before glancing dismissively at Magnus. “What?”
The second shower of arrows rained over the mountainous beasts but not enough made their mark. Although slowed, the creature let out an agonised roar and slammed itself into the steer doors.
Down below, James and his platoon threw themselves against the other side of the main gate at the same time.
The force of the men and the monster collided in the middle and although the enormous gate jostled violently, the enormous drop-bar which kept it sealed on the inner-side bent noticeably less than before.
Avery the blacksmith, clad in their bronze-platted arm, grimaced as they inspected the damages. Lock-bar was an insulting name for what amounted to about a tonne of steel in a single enormous bar. They’d made mention of its ridiculous stature before, and regretted every syllable of it now. For despite the fact that the bar was three feet thick and as wide as the main gate themselves, there was a deep and obvious bent at its centre.
Avery looked at James as more shooting could be heard overhead and shouted, “You’ll need more soldiers down here!”
“There are none! Any creative solutions, blacksmith?”
Michael’s voice sounded from above, calling for another brace, and James and his unit hurled themselves forward without hesitation, slamming against the enormous steel barricade.
Before a heart could beat, the gate was impacted with the sound of a fracturing church-bell. Several ill-prepared Legacies were knocked to the ground in twisted groaning messes.
Back up above, the Magnus watched Michael sling another light-born arrow in preparation for a charging Mountain Wolf.
“Michael, what are you doing right now?”
Michael was thrown by the use of his name, glancing at Magnus. “What kind of question is that?”
Magnus held up his palm and a sphere of white light, no bigger than a marble appeared instantly. He held it out to Michael who sighed with frustration and took it on instinct, plucking it like a grape.
“So, what? We share the same Arcancy, big deal. We’re in the middle of something, here, if you haven’t noticed.” Michael tossed away the orb and it vanished in the air.
He turned back toward the fight as Aroha called “Loose,” sending out another flurry, and Magnus stepped sharply back into his eye-line and placed his thumb and finger over the magical projectile nocked to Michael’s bow.
“What are you doing?”
Magnus shrugged. “Proving a point.” He then tried to grab Michael’s arrow and his fingers fell through, like it wasn’t there. He tried several different ways, unable to interact with the magic whatsoever, leaving Magnus looking supremely smug and Rose rather concerned.
Michael loosed the shot at an oncoming Mountain Wolf, slamming through the creature’s leg and sending it stumbling off of the drawbridge as he turned back to his allies. “I learned it in the Conjurement on my first bout there. It's Starfire.”
Magnus raked his mess of black hair back in frustration. “Michael. Starfire is just light. And it hurts the Created because they were forged in the Dark Lands. Like a sun burn. You’re damn sure not dealing out sun burns up here.”
Michael frowned as Nichole and Aroha continued shouting orders, and three more Mountain Wolves began their soil-scattering charge. “No- because during the distraction force attack last night, the light-casters killed plenty Shanii with their Starfire-”
“-Because one hundred and fifty Legacies surged their power into it. Not to mention. I’m a light caster.” Magnus reached out once more and couldn’t so much as touch the light. “I can’t even feel the breath of it.”
Carter tried. On the cavern’s edge, he thought, noticing Rose grow more and more perplexed.
Michael gritted his teeth. “We don’t have time to worry about this.”
Two ballistae javelins launched down onto the drawbridge, killing the two further Mountain Wolves as the third roared in pain and muscled through the arrows. Before the archers had a chance to nock a second wave, Nichole shouted, “Brace!” and Aroha yelled, “Ladders!”
A dozen knotted, wooden frames were lifted into the air as the last behemoth slammed into the gate with an ominous, metal groan. It fell dead at the impact as more Mountain Wolves readied to charge and several dozen ladders toppled toward the battlements.
Michael couldn’t decide which target to choose and archers all across the line yelled in panic as Magnus muttered, “We’re going to get overrun. If we lose the battlements, they’ll get in behind the gate. If we lose the gate, their entire array will force their way in and it’ll be a slaughter. We should’ve left.”
Michael shook his head, starting, “The location tablets-”
Magnus snorted, “They’ll get them anyway.”
Rose drew her wand and tried to think through the problem. “Then we need to sort the drawbridge or stop the ladders.”
A ladder slammed down next to Magnus, and he swung his scythe through its struts with one swift crack and sent it tumbling. “We can’t stop the ladders, they’ll just keep conjuring them. And the Mountain Wolves could rip through the gate twice over before we kill them all!” he yelled, heading toward an unoccupied section of the wall.
Michael glanced over the chaos then found himself searching through the battlements for Jack or Sidney or Klaryah... or anyone else. He didn’t know what to do. Michael turned to Rose and couldn’t even make the words come out as he shook his head numbly. He didn’t even know what he was trying to say.
Rose set a firm hand on his shoulder and spoke as though she’d rehearsed it, “I know you’re nervous. You know you don’t have to be. You know why?”
Michael felt his eyes well up. “How do you know those words?”
“Sparky, we don’t have to deal with the wolves. We just need to deal with the damn drawbridge,” Rose said, looking hard into his eyes. “Are you with me?”
He gave a stiff nod. “What’s your plan?”
Rose grabbed his arm, shouting, “Nicky! Ari! You’ve got command!”
With that, they sprinted down along the walls and searched the crowds for faces as she explained what could be generously called one-third of a plan. They darted between archers and crossbowmen, moving as quickly as possible down the dark inner stairs, breaking out onto the forum to see Sarah and Carter jogging toward the main gate, looking closer to corpses than members of the gentry.
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As they spotted one another they came careening together in hugs of relief as Michael frowned, “Wait, I thought Oli was on defence with you, Slick?”
Sarah bit her tongue and Michael realized she was shaking. But before could ask, he realized it was anger, not grief. She somewhat bitterly, muttered, “He’s fine.”
“Right here!” Out from the same direction, covered almost entirely in the moat’s sludge with the thickest bandaging possible strapped across his shoulder, Oliver grimaced with Iron Tooth swinging from his hip.
Carter’s face creased with amusement while Rose outright belly-laughed at the sight of him, but Sarah stayed stony-eyed as Oliver wrapped Michael in a passionate but gentle hug, paying special care to his shoulder.
Rose suppressed a grin. “You hurt the same shoulder again?”
“Hey, the first time wasn't my fault,” Oliver glanced at Sarah to see her pointedly looking anywhere else. “Just had a small moment of... anyway,” he said, looking a touch deflated.
Michael decided not to press matters and began explaining his and Rose’s plan, snatching James along the way back atop the walls. Before long, they were back on the battlements, directly over the gate, looking over the drawbridge as Raeken landed on the ramparts in front of them.
Spears clashed the defences just behind their heads as Nichole and Aroha dove into cover beside them, and Lain’s shouting could be heard in between the clang of steel and splintered groans of falling ladders.
“That’s all of us!” James shouted, tucking his legs in as Legacies sprinted past to the other end of the defences.
Michael glanced down the line and saw Magnus still firing heavy crossbow bolts into the oncoming sea of Obthraie. Unlike the others he didn’t duck beneath projectiles, he simply stepped to either side of them, like they were waiters in a busy restaurant.
“Hold tight, I’ll be right back!” Michael sprang up and ran down the line, slinging his bow over-shoulder. A wave of spears forced him to the ground, and he hastily crawled over the rough stone, pulling himself to Magnus’ side. “Hey!”
“What do you want, Williams?” he asked roughly, discarding an empty bolt-satchel as he scoured for a full one.
Michael bit his tongue, already regretting his decision and said, “Look. I’m about to do something risky. And I think I need your help.”
Magnus stopped his search and smiled widely as he turned back around. “Really? The great and powerful Paladin needs my assistance... Fancy that.”
Magnus picked up another satchel of bolts and began firing again, as Michael stayed below cover, biting his tongue and nodding bitterly. You could go back. You could try the plan with just eight and Raeken. It might work, spoke one voice in the back of his mind.
And then another sighed, And yet, here you are.
Michael stood up, in full view of the Obthraie army and didn’t so much as turn his head to see what kind of danger he was in. He stared Magnus hard in the face and said, “You have no reason to help me. And I don’t know why you would, but do you know what I think?”
Magnus lowered his weapon and shook his head mockingly, almost able to pass himself off as disinterested.
“You’re an asshole,” Michael said, as though it was Magnus’ legal name.
Magnus blinked, caught off guard.
“I know you’re half-Creation. Read it in the archive.”
Magnus shrugged, but his shoulders were stiffer than iron. “You want a prize?”
Michael smiled on accident. “No, I just want you know I don’t think you’re an asshole on purpose. Or at least I hope not. I think the old magic that runs in your veins, and the veins of everything that calls itself Shanii… speaks for you sometimes. Is that right?”
Magnus spent an inordinate amount of time trying to reload one bolt and eventually he stopped and turned to face Michael. "Doesn't matter."
“I think in your heart, you believe in things. And I don’t think you actually choose this icy, dickish exterior… unless maybe you think people expect it of you, and it’s easier to lean into it because who’s going to forgive you for the sins you can’t control? Fuckin’ no one.”
A splinter of stone whistled so close to Magnus’ face that it caught a strand of his hair, but he didn’t flinch. Michael’s heartrate went up but he didn’t move either.
Magnus huffed softly, though the bitterness in it was dulled. “Is there a point to this?”
“The point is I think you tried to convince me- and maybe everyone -that you are the same person who insulted Ilo at his own funeral. Who tortured Alexander over it. Who threatened me more times than I can remember.” Michael shook his head slowly. “But then I think, you forgot to keep it up. Your mask slipped.”
Magnus’s eyes were a roiling red, but they shifted and melded from crimson to maroon, like Michael’s words were stirring them. “And what if it is just who I am?”
“Then you’re going to have to try harder to convince me.”
Magnus quietly raised his scythe in front of Michael’s left side before a sliver of rock glanced off it. Michael tongued his cheek but Magnus’ stone stayed serious. “Its not a disease, Michael. Its curse-work. I’ll be dead before it goes away. And no one owes me any sympathy-”
Michael cleared his throat. “You have apologies to make, for sure. Most people won’t accept them. But frankly, I don’t think a bit of sympathy will hurt anyone. I’m sorry most of these people don’t seem to know. Must be lonely-”
“Let’s not get into that,” Magnus said, but not unkindly.
Michael nodded. “I still need help. And look, if you want to stay here and fight the good fight, then fair enough… Or you could come with me and maybe do something worthy of remembering?”
Magnus’ blood-red eyes flickered and slowly he set down the crossbow. “This doesn’t make us friends.”
“You’re damn right it doesn’t,” Michael said firmly. “But if you watch my back, I’ll watch yours.”
“Deal.”
*****
“We’re all going to die. This plan is stupid. And I do mean stupid,” said Nichole as she looped a rope around her waist.
Aroha cackled as she did the same, twisting the knot tight. “I love it.”
Michael chuckled away his nerves, knowing for certain they were both right.
“You know, in my idea, we were going to go through the front gate!” shouted Rose above the racket of the ongoing war.
Michael nodded, waving off the pleading looks of his friends, all looping lengths of rope around their own waists. “If we open the main gate, Nikereus will send everything under their control to overwhelm us. They’ll breach the door before the lock-bar gets back in place. This way is safer.”
“For who?” Rose asked, incredulously. “Everyone but us?”
Michael looked at her with a small wry smile. “What’s your power again? Landing on all fours? See that’s funny because you’re a little scaredy-cat-”
“I hope your next coffee goes cold really quickly. Like you get thirty seconds of hot. And then you have to drink cold coffee.”
Michael's mouth fell open. "That's fucked up."
Oliver called out, “Nicky, help, mum and dad are fighting!”
Nicky and Aroha cackled and Michael and Rose settled down.
Michael gripped his new shield firmly. It was about as tall as him, made of pure steel, and dotted with mesh at eye-height. It just enough to see through without letting shrapnel in. The shields were old stock and made for large-scale war units, but his plan had a semi-different use in mind. Michael’s gaze followed the separate lengths of rope attached to everyone’s waists. Each of their ends were held by a dozen or more other Legacies including Royston, Syon, Marken, and Kirkley. As they smiled politely at him, Michael couldn’t help but snicker madly at the sight.
“This is a terrible idea. The shattered remains of my ribs are going to love this,” Michael laughed and shook his head, dislodging the doubt. “Okay, everyone holding rope, when you hear something that sounds like a drawbridge snapping in half, feel free to pull us up.”
Syon looked to Marken with meek confidence while the axeman gave a suppressed grin and a thumbs up, turning to Kirkley. “This kid is great.”
“Okay, let me get this straight,” yelled Carter, for the fourth nervous time.
The entire company groaned.
“We’re going to be lowered down onto the drawbridge as Raeken lands there too. And we’re supposed to protect him from the army whilst he destroys the platform on which we’re standing. And if by all the fortunes of Nisia, we manage that, we are then to be pulled back up onto the battlements while thousands of spears are hurtled up at us. Is that the idea?”
James nodded, completely deadpan, “Yeah, that’s about the size of it. Why?”
Carter watched James’ face break into laughter and he sheathed a second shortsword. “You’re not allowed to swim in my pool anymore.”
Jack ducked beneath a hail of stone spears and ordered a flurry of arrows in return as he stepped into cover before the group of Legacies. Nikereus had been focusing a large portion of their army on the rear of the fortress, which had until that moment kept Jack’s attention. They’d yet to lose grip of the defences, but the moment he received Michael’s message, he headed straight for the front gate.
Jack ducked down and shouted, “Are you lot sure about this? I’ve seen a few things, and frankly, this looks like a recipe for-”
“Success?” James interjected. “I agree.”
Jack shook his head and glanced to Michael, watching the young archer chuckle to himself. “What is it?”
Michael merely grinned and said, “I was thinking about what our classmates used to call us!”
Down the line, James wheezed with laughter and shouted, “The Trio of Idiocy, wasn’t it? Because they got in trouble for calling us the Fuckwit Three!"
The company lit up with belly-jolting chuckles as Aroha and Nichole rubbed their tearful eyes and shook their heads.
Finally, Michael let the amusement die down and he began saying, “Look, guys, if this is asking too much of you, I understand-”
“Nah. You called me a scaredy-cat. Got something to prove now.”
“Exactly, and we all know you’re dumb enough to try do this alone,” said Sarah. “Which while hilarious, would be a little sad, probably.”
Michael’s nerves were put at ease as he listened to them chuckle once more. In the distance, a rumble of thunder rolled across the clearing sky and Michael took a deep breath. “That’s our signal! Everyone up! Supports, get ready!”
Jack’s face tightened with dread, but as he watched Michael step onto the battlements, shield aloft, with his companions as his side, and a broad, nervous grin on his face, he realised he was witnessing one of the bravest things he would ever see.
And then Michael and his company stepped off the walls and plummeted toward the sea of monsters.