Ichu started the moves of Tortoise In His Shell. It came from Unmovable stance, but on a whim, he changed it to Strength stance, guessing it would mesh better with the uneven movement of the sleds. As his back rounded and his arms crossed, Silluka and Cosquella came up beside him.

“Follow along!” he shouted. “This is a group chayu and we’ll need all the power we can to hold off the blast.” The mound of the volcano was building, ahead of them, the peak rounding into a dome that screamed pressure!

Silluka watched his movements and fell into Strength stance beside him. The ampuka immediately surged closer. She was much stronger and more competent than the last time they had performed a group chayu together.

“Me too, yes?” Cosquella was hesitant, a strange look on the large girl.

“You too,” Ichu said, his arms flowing in a circular arc that described a tortoise’s shell.

“Like this. Knees strong, but turned in with the toes,” Silluka said. “hips tucked.” She nodded down at her waist, both upper arms moving, and her one hand forming a graceful curve, fingers together and thumb tucked next to them.

Cosquella hesitantly joined in, her movements jerky and ungraceful. As the leader of the group chayu, Ichu could detect a small increase in the ampuka, but not enough. Even Silluka had more than that, before she started training with the elder.

“To me!” he called. “Anyone who knows Tortoise In His Shell!”

Several other Huaca ran up, watching for where he was in the process.

“From Strength, not Unmovable,” Ichu said. “Trust me on this.”

“But that’s the wrong stance,” someone complained behind his back. He thought it was the stout boy Silluka knew—Waskar.

“Have you done it on a moving sled before?” Silluka grated, and the complainer fell silent. Ichu was both glad his sister had picked up the same reasoning, and that she was confident enough to shut down the objections. He wished he had tried harder to teach her, back when their parents were alive. What a bodycaster she could be now! But they had always let her study and read, to find her own path.

The shell grew around them as more villagers joined in. It surrounded the first sled, a sphere of pink and blue, then grew to cover all four sleds and the undesirable’s sled as more Huaca saw and joined in. Nearly everyone who knew the chayu was performing it, even many of the elders.

In front of them, the volcano blew its top, fire and death surging toward them faster than a jakua could run.

Twenty seconds later, a sound so deep Ichu could only feel it in his bones washed over them. Rock and fire arced up and away from the new mountain, heading straight for them. He kept performing the chayu, praying everyone else would as well, because he didn’t have time to pray to Tiyu Tiksimuyu. Against the onslaught, the strength of the ampuka increased until it was a blaze of brown and orange light. The Huaca was strong. His sister was strong.

Several of the elders dropped out and he heard them calling on Tiyu Llamkay, Uncle Smith, to armor their bodies and Uncle Earth to contain the explosion. The ampuka surged again within him in answer to the prayers, like his own source of magma, and his limbs and skin felt stronger. The heat was not nearly so searingly hot.

He braced as the full firestorm engulfed them, now on his fourth repetition of the chayu, nearly a full minute after the first eruption. Debris impacted the forming shell. The sound thrummed through him, blocking out any other noise.

Ichu winced as a piece or rock larger than him impacted the shell, and a tiny crack formed in the swirling colors. Ichu reached the end of Tortoise In His Shell again and started a fifth iteration of the chayu.

“Again!” he called. The Huaca around him braced in Strength stance and rounded their backs with the first move.

He watched the crack in the shell. It slowly closed, even as the shell grew thicker. It completely covered the sleds now, mighty against the power of the earth. Only Uncle Smith’s hand aiding their bodies was keeping it from collapsing like cloth tossed into a bonfire.

Then the volcano seemed to crimp in on itself as the firm hand of Tiyu Tiksimuyu throttled the effect, fulfilling the elders’ prayers, but even the Uncle couldn’t completely stop what had started.

Ichu bared his teeth as the glow of lava filtered through the dust in the air. If all went well, it would splash against the shell and form a protective crust around the sleds until the eruption died down. He’d heard from his parents of this exact technique used forty years ago, when one of the southern volcanoes spewed lava all the way to the Huaca. The remaining crust had fertilized crops, once it cooled.

They would need to perform the chayu several more times to make sure the shell—

“Attackers!” came the call through the sleds and Ichu forced his body not to freeze up, to keep moving through the chayu. But he knew instantly what had happened. The turtlemen had been waiting for an opportunity, and the volcano had been the perfect one.

“We can’t keep the chayu up and protect ourselves,” Silluka screamed into his ear. He could barely hear over the roar of debris hitting the shell.

“It will have to last,” Ichu shouted back, then yelled to the rest of the group, punctuating his words with hand signals so the others might pick up his meaning. “Pick some to stay here and reinforce the shell. Everyone else should defend against the turtlemen.” The elders caught his plan and spread the word.

Where was Elder Quilqi?

Cosquella broke away from her chayu with a growl. “I can be more help with defense, I can,” she shouted. He could hear her clearly, she was so loud. Her eyes seemed bright, as if they reflected the fire of the volcano. She made fists, her knuckles straining. “You lead the group, Silluka. I’ll keep you safe.”

Silluka seemed to hesitate, then nodded and settled back into the chayu, a small group of Huaca following her lead. No one said anything about her missing hand now. The elders were already heading toward the rear sled, ready to come up with strategies to push the turtlemen back.

Ichu ran with them, Cosquella hot on his heels. They joined other warriors already there just as the first turtleman climbed over the edge of the sled, eyes blazing. Cosquella’s fist met its face with a satisfying crunch, and the surprised turtleman fell back over the side, senseless. Ichu gelt his eyebrows raise. She had done that much with one punch? The girl was strong.

Then more of the creatures were over the sides. Kallpa had been right. These were much easier to defeat as a group than individually, though they were still stronger than most citizens. Blows the first Eztli Mecatl he had fought shrugged off took down members here. Cosquella was right beside him as he performed Jakua’s Claws and broke an attacker’s plating with one swipe.

Then the glowing vials came out, the invaders swigging them quickly. The remaining Eztli Mecatl took more hits to fall, then stopped falling, then started pushing the Huaca back. There were only five left Ichu could see. He and Cosquella fought against one of the five with two other Huaca. When he could spare a glance, he saw five and six apiece against each turtleman.

The one they were fighting growled something in its guttural language as Ichu took a blow on an arm fortified by Roots in Fitted Stone. Cosquella growled something back at it and it laughed, a horrible sound like rocks being ground together.

The entire Huaca was being forced back by only five of the creatures, and they had no place to go. When Ichu snuck another glance behind him, he was greeted by a wall of cooling molten rock, formed into a curve around the sleds, taller than him and still growing. How long had he been fending off the attack? Was Silluka still leading the chayu?

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

He let Cosquella take the center on the attack, and the large girl—almost as tall as the Eztli Mecatl they were fighting—grinned, all teeth. Her arms, as big around as his, flashed like lighting, barreling punches into their opponent’s chest and blocking arms. Where she had been halting and awkward in chayus, she was a natural at hand-to-hand combat. For a moment, the turtleman’s attack stalled and Ichu caught a glimpse of Elder Quilqi—finally—in the center of the main sled with the other elders, making the sign for Tiyu Tiksimuyu, calling again on Uncle Earth.

A moment later, the ampuka glowed in three different places on the sleds: one with those performing Tortoise In His Shell, another brown aura around the elders calling on the Uncle, and third around the Huaca who fought the five turtlemen. Even with that protection, those fighting with Ichu were being pushed closer to the elders and to the wall of colling lava.

As Ichu used Wind From Eagle’s Wings to buffet the turtleman back a step. Elder Quilqi began a new chayu, weaving between the elders, making sharp, concussive moves that reminded Ichu of an earthquake tearing a stretch of land apart. He caught glimpses as he dodged the turtleman’s blows. As strong as it was now, each strike numbed muscles, though Cosquella was still trading blows, her face a mask of rage. He didn’t know what the elder’s chayu would do, but they were running out of time.

Tamaya, leading the bodycasters in the group to their left, thrust a dagger deep into her opponent’s eye, and the Eztli Mecatl fell back, crashing to the ground. At the same moment the strikes from Ichu’s opponent increased to something like hammer blows, and Ichu ground his teeth against the blows. He could only hold on so long, though Cosquella seemed almost unaffected, leaning into each push she threw at their opponent. How had she learned that on a farm?

The wall of cooling rock rumbled and Ichu waited for the shell to fail and douse them all in lava. He slid around a strike from the Eztli Mecatl, but the strike grazed his shoulder, almost spinning him around. Could they even finish this fight?

Then the solidifying magma parted like water, and figures in amber armor leapt through it and the shell as if they weren’t there, landing heavily on the sleds and running to the fight. There were eight of them, two for each remaining Eztli Mecatl. They wore savage masks, with faces stretched out in rage or passion, and they all glowed with the ampuka, shining bronze like metal buffed by river water.

The Huaca fell back as the new warriors took over, forcing the Eztli Mecatl into a small group, ringing them. Ichu watched as one of the glowing warriors held an arm up, feet stomping in a rhythm. Metal bands around her wrist grew into a sheet of metal that stopped a punch from a turtleman. She followed up with a punch of her own and the turtleman staggered back.

Hesitantly at first, and then with excitement, the Huaca aided the glowing warriors, keeping the turtlemen from escaping. As their circle became smaller, they had less room to move, and less room to act.

Finally, the warriors in amber armor raised their fists as one, fingers clenching into fists, and stone pillars punched through the bottom of the sled, capturing the Eztli Mecatl in a cage of stone. Their eyes glowed red and purple from the darkness as they hammered on their prison, breaking pieces off, trying to get free. Then in unison, the warriors gestured again, and another round of pillars grew. With a shout, they clapped their hands together and the pillars smashed together with a thud. Dark blood leaked from between cracks.

Ichu let out a breath, looking back toward the shell. Holding a shoulder bleeding from some wound he couldn’t remember. Silluka performed with the others, and Tortoise’s Shell still held against the colling lava, but the sleds were stuck here, especially the lead sled, which now had a gaping hole in the bottom. They would have to wait until the volcano died down, sitting targets for any more Eztli Mecatl.

One of the warriors broke off and approached Elder Quilqi, removing his fearsome mask with one hand. It revealed a young man—younger than Ichu, at least by looks. He was strikingly handsome, a slight sweat beading on his brow. Ichu wiped blood from his knuckles and brushed his hair back from his face.

“It was good you called us.” The man had a deep, resonant voice. “We have been trying to track the Eztli Mecatl movements, but they have a way of disguising themselves from our vision, hiding even from the earth.”

“Are you gods?” Ichu was startled to see Silluka nearby. She must have left the group chayu to greet the warriors. Ichu checked the shell still held, but it was well reinforced, keeping the lava at bay. Several others kept Tortoise In His Shell going, continually reinforcing it. Silluka’s eyes were just as drawn to the youthful leader as Ichu’s were.

The warrior laughed. “No, little sister. We are mere stone warriors. Surely you have seen the storm warriors, since you hail from the coastal regions. We are like them.”

Cosquella drifted to Silluka’s side, sweat beaded under her strange, unmoving hair, and Silluka checked over the large girl, gently probing bruises for anything broken. Cosquella hissed as Silluka hit a tender rib.

“But we call the storm warriors gods too,” another bodycaster said, and several more joined them, covered in ash, dust, and blood. “You saved us from the turtlemen.”

“We’re no more gods than you are,” the stone warrior said, his grin wide and endearing. “We simply know a little more of the way of the world, though you have a fine teacher here, if you want to learn.” He gestured toward Elder Quilqi, who folded her arms. “Is there anything else you need, ancient one?”

The elder seemed to consider for a moment. If the title concerned her, she didn’t show it. She glanced to where the wall of lava hid the volcano. “Since you put a hole in these villagers’ sled, you could at least lend a hand in repairing it, and getting us going again once the volcano dies down. If you’re feeling generous, you could also lead us through the desert, and past any more dangers such as these.”

The stone warrior bowed from his hips. “We will do what we can, ancient one. Since the Eztli Mecatl have attacked here once, its possible they might again.” He closed his eyes and held his hands out, fingers spread wide. His brow wrinkled, then his eyes snapped open again. “The tremors are dying away. This eruption has likely released enough of the stress of the new island, at least this far inland. There will be more chaos nearer the cost, but not as much here. As you travel farther inland, you will reach a deep well of solid rock under the desert that will solidify the shifting earth.”

“You can tell all that by feel?” Ichu asked. He realized he’d come closer to the stone warrior, taking in the amber armor, decorated with hundreds of small stones against a bronze background. It was similar to the armor of the storm warrior who had died. Was this then also created from the stone warrior’s magic?

The stone warrior seemed to see him for the first time, eyes raking Ichu up and down. He felt as if the man could see all the way through him. The man exuded charisma.

“Caster,” the man greeted him. “You seem to have a passable knowledge of the basics. More at least than the rest of the people in your village. You can’t feel the elements, then?”

Ichu had never heard of such a thing. “Is this possible? Is it part of the chayus? The ampuka?” He felt as if he was swirled around in a hurricane. First the volcano, then attacking Eztli Mecatl, now he was conversing with gods from legends. Elder Quilqi had been right when she said he had seen little of the world.

“The ampuka’s power comes from the core and the Aunts, Uncles, and Entles, as you must know. So does feeling the elements.” The storm warrior looked at the assembled Huaca, all of them staring. Even the few still performing Tortoise In His Shell had their eyes glued to the stone warrior. “You do not know of this?”

“We do not,” Ichu confirmed. Yet more of the world that had passed by the Huaca. How small was their village, really? “But we’re willing to learn.”

The stone warrior’s stare became more direct. “A good answer. I’m Akamu, leader of this band of stone warriors. If you wish to learn, I’d be happy to show you some techniques.” He extended an arm.

“Ichu, strongest bodycaster in the Huaca.” Ichu returned a warm smile and grasped the man’s arm, thick with ropy muscle. “I’d be honored to learn from you.” Bodycasting, and anything else Akamu wanted to show him. He met Akamu’s warm brown eyes and the edges of them crinkled in a smile. Oh yes. He could learn much from this man.

“Perhaps we can stay with you a few days, and watch for movement by the Eztli Mecatl,” Akamu said, eyes still holding Ichu’s as one hand caressed his smooth chin. “What do you say to some guard duty, siblings?”

There was a rousing chorus of shouts from the stone warriors, who all removed their masks, revealing seven more grinning men and women, all except one as young as Akamu. The outlier was a gray-haired woman who was likely old enough to be Ichu’s mother. She was still bodycasting at her age? She moved as quickly as the other warriors.

Ichu didn’t get a chance to ask before the stone warrior patrol dissipated like steam on a hot day, the seven others going in all directions, to help fortify the shell, the start repairing the hold in the sled, to talk to the elders, and three jumping from the sled to the bank, though cooling lava flowed like honey. They sprang across it like jakua across a stream, their feet not even singed.

Elder Quilqi approached Akamu and him, speaking quietly so only they and Silluka and Cosquella, who were standing nearby, could hear. “You were close, to respond so quickly to my summons.”

Akamu nodded, his noble face serious. He—grudgingly, Ichu thought—looked away from him and to the elder. “We were, ancient one. The Eztli Mecatl move swiftly and they are strong. They will overrun this side of the continent if they are not stopped. Chimor needs time to prepare.”

Silluka looked as confused as he felt. “Chimor?” Lugopo scampered up his sister’s leg, climbing to her shoulder. Their big eyes took in everything, and he couldn’t imagine what strange thoughts were going through their head.

Akamu glanced at Silluka, then took another look, eyes narrowing. “Chimor. The capital, past the desert. Are we so far out into the Contisuyu that you don’t even know where the Huaca is centered? Does the Allwiya know?”

“I have not heard of this fantastical place! More victims to experiment on!” They tapped the circlet. “That is, more people to meet.”

“Well, you have something I have not seen either—a talking Allwiya,” Akamu admitted.

“But our village is the Huaca,” Silluka said. “We find a new Huaca every time we have to move inland.”

Akamu looked to Elder Quilqi, who shrugged imperceptibly. Ichu wondered how much wasn’t being said. How much had their village lost, being out by itself on the coast?

Akamu blew out a breath. “Well, it seems my patrol does have its work cut out for it.” He glanced at Silluka again. “Though perhaps this village is not quite so backward as I thought.” He clapped Ichu on the arm. “Come with me and show me what you know.”