“Seven tools,” said Glove.

“Yes.”

“Seven schools.”

“Yes.”

“Seven times seven inks?”

“Yes, how many more—”

“Seven runes.”

“Yes. Please I’m trying to carve this last—”

“Seven words, seven emotions.”

“Yes and yes. Are you through yet?”

“Six materials,” he said, raising an eyebrow.

Rebeka set down her steel inscription tool on the shield she had been marking.

“We believe there is a seventh, but we haven’t found it yet.”

“Have you tried ice?”

“There was never enough around for the most part, but yes we have. One winter we set aside a cast filled with fresh water and it got cold enough to freeze. It didn’t work, obviously.”

“Sand?”

“Sand works. We categorize it the same as earth.”

“Perhaps it is sand.”

“Perhaps.”

“Bone?”

“To do so would be disrespectful, and against my tribe’s laws. If you haven’t noticed, they don’t take kindly to law breakers.”

Glove smiled at her, “We’re not dead yet.”

Rebeka bit her lip to stop it from trembling and managed to smile back, “Not yet.”

A wail loud enough to set the shields reverberating rose from the trees.

“The spears Rebeka!”

She paused, “Thank you, Glove. For standing by me, right or wrong.”

Her words combined with her smile caused Glove’s heart to melt. It wasn’t that Rebeka was particularly attractive, though she was, and it wasn’t that she was very good at smiling, which she wasn’t; it was the earnestness in her voice and face that got him. There was nothing so pure as the truth. He hoped to see such a smile a thousand more times.

“Thank me by getting to those spears.”

Rebeka’s spears were named such only for their appearance, for they were all made of solid stone. She had laid them in grooves which angled up towards the sky. At each of their bases was a glowing silver rune of binding. Rebeka touched the stone beneath the first spear. A marred rune of binding, hidden against the stone’s dull grey until now, flared silver. The marred rune, now activated, pushed on its twin, sending the spear up its groove and high, high into the sky. Rebeka activated the next rune, and the next, one after the other, all down the line, glowing spears went flying toward the wailing alarm.

Bren saw the duck fall from the sky. He had just sent his golems, disguised as humans using image runes, to deal with Rebeka’s own. The golems’s disguises made the next moments all the more terrible.

First there was a scream like a fox’s, but louder and ululating. Then the bird plummeted towards his troops. It dove like lightning, as if it were a falcon and not a duck. Bren could barely follow its descent. The golem it hit wore the guise of a thin young man with black hair. Bren had never seen a man’s head explode, and he hoped to never again. Bits of broken bone and viscera flew past Bren’s face. On one jagged strip of skull he could make out a single eye, still in its socket, staring wildly all about it. The illusion ended a moment later as the golem’s scroll was torn free. Bren felt a sudden urge to vomit, but was able to control himself.

With the scroll destroyed he saw the duck had not been responsible for the carnage. It must have been impaled mid-flight by the spear which now was lodged in the ruins of the golem’s head. In other circumstance he might have found its glassy-eyed stare funny, but now it only served to reflect his own terror.

Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

“Fleysh, Kolek, bring them back!”

They were too far away, and hadn’t heard him over the din of battle. As Bren dashed over to his kineser, one of their stone golems engaged a clay golem. The stone golem’s fist darted out faster than the eye could follow and smashed through its opponent’s arm. Shards of pottery exploded from the area of impact, then flew back together and knit seamlessly under the power of a repair rune. The stone golem’s fist lashed out again, the clay golem’s head stove in, but this did not stop it. Rebeka had broken the vow of placement, another shadow cast across her soul. The stone golem shattered the clay golem’s other arm, filled its chest with fist-shaped craters, then tore off the still healing right arm and tossed it aside.

Silver runes of binding lit along the clay golem’s severed arm, and it flew back to its socket as if attracted by a lodestone. The stone golem crushed the arm to dust, fast as a snake, and finally it lay still. In short order the clay golem was a pile of rubble. The scroll was found in the golem’s knee and destroyed.

The fight had only lasted several seconds. As the stone golem turned to its next victim, a second spear appeared from the sky, then a third. One punched through the golem’s chest, the other pierced its head, destroying it. Spear after spear began to rain down. Many went wide, many missed, and many more struck the dense press of golems.

“Call them back!” Bren yelled again as he approached his kineser, breathless. A spear clipped a golem’s rune of obedience. With a sudden roar it stopped pressing towards the four remaining enemy golems and began attacking its own.

Kolek shook his head, “We can’t now. Hatred must be destroyed, or it will turn on us all.”

Fleysh nodded, “Wait. Rain falls forever, not so with spears. Lose some golems rather than all of your years.”

Hatred was stopped with a blow to its face which shattered its Golem’s Eye. The golem toppled over, a creature of stone once more. Four other golems had sustained injuries in bringing Hatred down, and eight, no eleven, had fallen to the spears from the sky.

Fleysh had been right, the spears soon stopped. Bren waited five minutes to be sure. When no new dangers presented themselves, he called his kinesers over.

“Tsamen,” Bren asked, “do your scouts report any more blockades?”

“None as far as the next village, though the village itself appears to be abandoned.”

“Fleysh?”

“Why the spears? Why anything at all? Time is power; fear sees our fall.”

“I agree,” said Kolek, “we should push forward. The faster we move the less time Rebeka has to spring her traps.”

“If we are too hasty we will run straight into them!” said Por, “I think we should proceed with caution. I can devise a counter to these spears if you give me a few hours.”

“I’m with Por,” said Tsamen, “Give him the time he needs. My scouts will be useless if we move too fast.”

“They didn’t prepare us for the spears,” said Kolek, “Rebeka may have laid other snares, equally as subtle.”

“I want to bring Rebeka to justice more than anyone,” said Tsamen, “but that does not mean I’ll walk willingly into a trap just because I failed to see one.”

“Thank you all,” said Bren, “I have decided on our course. I agree that it would be foolish to move on without knowing what lays in store ahead of us. However, I do not believe that we have done so. We failed to discover one trap, but that does not mean we will fail to see the next. As Fleysh said, Rebeka must not think we are afraid of her. Therefore I also agree that we cannot afford to lose any more time. Onward I say! But keep your eyes about you. We must all be twice as vigilant as before.”

Bren waited, but no objection was raised against his plan.

“Right. Kolek, get your golems moving. I want most of them in front of the wagons in case anything happens. Fleysh, go tell the others what we have planned. We are setting out at once.”

The column lurched back into motion several minutes later. Kolek signaled to his golems and several minutes later they were off down the road, pulling the wagons behind them. They had only travelled for a few hundred paces when they heard a second screaming alarm. Kolek yelled for his golems to spread out while the Maharal ran for cover. Fleysh was too slow in seeking shelter. Bren saw the spear headed straight for the back of Fleysh’s neck just in time. Bren leapt, taking him across two wagons and the heads of a group of cowering Maharal. Still in the air, he managed to wrap his fingers around the stone spear and cast it aside before landing in a heap next to Fleysh. The barrage ended a moment later.

Bren pushed himself onto wobbling legs and surveyed the damage. It appeared that the Maharal had escaped shaken, but unharmed. Kolek walked over, ducking his head as though expecting a second set of spears to fall any second.

“They missed all the golems, I think,” said Kolek. “One of Malice’s Bind runes is destroyed, but I think that happened in the rain. How are the people?”

Bren rubbed his arm. It was starting to ache. He must have pulled something when he knocked the spear from the sky.

“I think we’re safe here too. Rebeka’s method for launching the spears can’t be that accurate.”

“Despite my fears the Maharal are fine. Did you notice there were less spears this time?” said Fleysh.

Kolek shook his head, “That could mean anything. I bet you that three hundred paces down the road another alarm will sound, and another after that. Some will yield spears and some won’t. These traps have been designed to slow us, not destroy us. That doesn’t mean that marching blindly on won’t still get some of us killed. My golems and I aren’t moving until we’ve developed some method to combat the spears.”

Bren felt pressure rising in his temple. He pressed the palm of his hand against his head to relieve it. If they stopped they would be playing into Rebeka’s hands, but any other option was even more foolish. Fleysh had nearly died.

“Where is Por? It’s time to let him try his solution.”

At Fleysh’s suggestion they pulled the wagons back a ways in case Rebeka sent a second wave of spears at the same location. Por set about his task with enthusiasm. He got Kolek’s golems to gather stones and enlisted Tsamen to aid him with carving. Several false starts and a crushed wagon later, Por managed to rig a floating net of stones above the wagons. He had worked quickly, but not quick enough for Bren’s liking. By the time he had finished, the moon had taken over from the sun and the first hunting cries of owls were beginning to echo throughout the forest. They would have to push on until midnight to make up for lost time. Bren hoped to reach the village Tsamen had mentioned, but doubted they would make it, for his army moved slowly, forced to wait after every step for his scouts’ reports.