“That’s almost everything we know so far,” Esis finished after El brought the others back. “Corporal, do you have anything to add?”
El saluted, then turned to face the two wings, her heart fluttering at public speaking. Why was talking in front of thirty people scarier than sparring in front of three hundred? Probably because she already had a sword in her hand if somebody made a comment.
Her eyes scanned the group, her own wing properly spaced and in order; they knew how she got about that. The Boomers, on the other hand, stood or sat wherever they burning well pleased. No rhyme or reason to it. El almost threw out what she needed to talk about in favor of lining them up.
It’d only take a minute, then she could…no, El, let it go.
She took a deep breath, then jumped right into what she and Dayne had figured out before the haphazard spacing could distract her further. “As you all probably noticed when we brought you here, the storm itself seems to be invisible unless you’re close to it. We’ve measured it out, and it’s about one hundred and fifty feet. Any further than that and you can’t even see the storm wall.
“Additionally, within about two miles of the storm wall, our communications,” El pointed at the side of her head to indicate the flame armor, “are completely blocked. Dayne and I stood ten feet apart, and his communication couldn’t reach me until he moved farther from the storm.”
“Could he hear you?” an older member of Esis’s wing asked. What was his name? Rodrick. A thirty-year veteran, and one of the most experienced Firestorm present.
“No,” El answered. “Nothing in or out. Completely cut off.”
“So, the storm is causing the interference?” Rodrick asked.
“We aren’t sure yet,” Esis retook control of the conversation. “It could be something in or about the town itself. We’re going to investigate by sending groups of scouts in opposite directions along the storm wall to see if…”
“This is bullshit!” Oril shouted from where he paced along the edge of the building closest to the storm. “Salid is straight through there, with an army of lizards somewhere in between. Investigating along the storm is just fear of going in. Cowardice.”
“You should watch your words,” Nite said evenly, his voice somehow more chilling than the impossible snowstorm a stone’s throw away.
“Or what?” Oril asked. “Every second we delay because of fear is a second longer Salid, and my family, is in the claws of those filthy newts. We need to save them, and we need to do it now.”
“Saving your family isn’t our mission,” Esis said.
Oril stopped his pacing mid-stride, then slowly turned so he was facing straight toward Esis. “What did you just say?” he asked her, his fingers drumming on his electrum hilt.
He wouldn’t be stupid enough to actually attack her in front of her whole wing, would he?
“You heard me. You’re here as a guide, nothing more,” Esis stated. “Our mission is, and always has been, the safety of Pycrin. The lizard army was seen as a potential threat, so we were sent here. Now, I see this storm as a potential threat, one possibly larger than the lizard army. As such, we’re going to get to the bottom of it.
“Once I’m convinced it isn’t a danger, then, and only then, will we continue our journey to Salid.”
“No,” Oril said and ignited his wings. “I don’t accept your decision.”
“That’s the thing about the command structure,” Esis said, checking her fingernails like they were more important than Oril was, then raising her eyes to meet his. “You don’t have to accept my decisions, just follow them.”
“Yeah, well, you can follow this,” Oril snapped, gave her a one-finger salute, then spun and launched off the roof. Feather-shaped embers trailed behind until he hit the storm a heartbeat later. After that… he was simply gone, swallowed whole by the storm.
“Laxiv,” Nite said and nodded toward the storm.
Wings flared and a woman from Esis’s squad rocketed into the storm after Oril.
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“And this is why I didn’t want to bring him,” Esis sighed. “Faled, while Laxiv brings the deserter back, the rest of us are going to…”
A flash of movement from the storm, then the building they were on bucked like a wild stallion. El ignited her wings on instinct, leaping into the air and grabbing the hands of the two people closest to her, Laze and Faled, while others shouted their surprise.
Half a dozen sets of wings also ignited to life, while the other members of the Firestorm simply leapt from the building, trusting in their flame armor to protect them.
Teetering, the building buckled down the middle, the two sides leaning in like drunken friends until they supported one another at odd angles. Debris lazily rattled out and rolled along the ground, and El spotted a line of dust extending out the other side of the building and into the next one across the street.
“Get out of the air,” Esis commanded from the ground. “This might be an attack!”
“Burn me,” El scolded herself. Why hadn’t she thought of that? And there she was not only making herself a target, but her two teammates as well. “Sorry,” she said quietly to Laze and Faled as she deposited them on the ground a second later.
“Thanks for grabbing me,” Laze said with a nod.
“Anybody see what hit us?” Esis asked while everybody took up defensive positions.
“Whatever it was, it went straight through our building and into the one across the street,” El reported.
“Go,” Esis said to El, who already had her wings out.
El saluted and burst forward at full speed, her feet no more than an inch off the ground. If they were under attack, staying out of the sky would make her less of a target.
Two seconds later she doused her wings, letting her momentum carry her forward while she twisted her body midair, the flame armor reinforcing her muscles and bones. Extending her lead foot out and dropping into a crouch, El’s boots and gloved fingertips skidded along the pavement until she rounded the corner of the building a split-second later and flared her wings back to life.
Body and physics screaming against the sudden force of her wings, El rocketed off at a ninety-degree angle to her original trajectory, flames trailing behind like a comet’s trail. Just as the added thrust of flaring her wings faded, El spun in the air until she was hurtling backward an inch above the ground.
Ducking low to compact her body and brace herself, one last flare of her wings brought her to a sudden stop between the two damaged buildings. To her left, the three-story building she’d been standing on, with a hole torn straight through the center of it. To her right, what looked like a modest two-story home with whatever had gone through the larger building sitting in its living room.
From where she stood, it was impossible to tell what it was, and despite pieces of the building still dangling and falling to the ground, El jogged up the front steps and climbed through the hole in the wall.
“What the Blaze?” El asked nobody in particular and stopped short, a massive, block of ice sitting in the center of the room. She took step to get a closer look, but the unmistakable sound of flaming wings turned her around.
“Never seen anybody fly like that,” Nite said, landing nimbly outside the hole. “Without your flame armor, maneuvers like that would tear you apart.”
“Good thing I have the flame armor then,” El said, quickly, then moved on to more important things. “I’m glad you’re here. I wouldn’t want to have to explain this.”
“Explain what?” Nite asked, then stepped into the building and got a good look at the cause of the destruction. “Is that… an ice cube? A giant ice cube?”
“Sure seems that way. And, is it just me, or does it look like there’s something inside it?” El asked.
“Hard to tell with the lighting in here, but…” Nite said, then drew his electrum hilt and ignited his sword to life.
Three feet of liquid flame illuminated the top of the huge block of ice, and both El and Nite leaned in to get a closer look.
“Is that a boot in there?” El pointed toward a black, foot-shaped something inside the cloudy ice. No, cloudy wasn’t the right word. It was more like a giant snow globe, with individual snowflakes frozen mid-fall. What the Blaze?
“Not just a boot,” Nite said and shoved a large timber aside. “There’s a leg in there… and… burn it, I think that’s one of our uniforms. Help me clear it off,” he ordered.
With both her hands free, El quickly cleared off the top of the ice, as well as a space around the side and back. Nite was right; that was definitely one of their uniforms inside.
“Oril or Laxiv?” she asked. It had to be one of those two. There weren’t any other patrols that far from the capital, were there?
“Laxiv,” Nite said. “Blonde hair. Let’s get her out of there,” he said, and carefully lowered his blade to shear through the ice.
Except nothing happened.
“Uh… shouldn’t the ice be… melting?” El asked and squinted at where the flaming sword pressed against the ice. There wasn’t even a layer of water on the ice from the heat of the blade.
“It shouldn’t just be melting; the sword should be cutting straight through it. I’m pushing as hard as I can here,” Nite answered.
“That’s strange.”
“Yes,” Nite said, took a step back, and raised the sword above his head. “Let’s see if this works,” he said, then slashed down at the ice. Impossibly, the blade stopped the moment it hit the frozen surface.
El’s eyes widened. Had she ever seen anything non-magical stop one of their weapons? No. No, she hadn’t.
“Very strange,” El restated.
“We need to report this to the sergeant,” Nite said, and doused his sword.
“What about Laxiv?” El asked.
“The sergeant will figure something out. Come on,” Nite said, jogged out of the building, and ignited his wings.
El put her hand on the ice, somehow cold even through the flame armor. Or was that her imagination? “Be back soon,” she told the woman frozen inside. Could Laxiv hear her? Was the woman even still alive?
More importantly, what in the Pyre’s name was going on? El didn’t have an answer to that question, so she stepped out of the building, dread settling comfortably in her gut again, ignited her wings, and followed Nite back to the others.