“Is now really the time to eat?” Kol sat beside Jim on the couch. A cord wove from the back of the android’s head and trailed out of sight. Jim occasionally smiled or laughed, but was mostly quiet.
“Of course it is.” Jaleel worked at the ship’s little kitchenette, moving between the fridge and oven. Occasionally, Wesley flew after him, chattering and clutching at him. “Not now, little man. We all need to eat and be ready in case it gets dangerous again.”
Dr. Stan and Max were still huddled together beside the sensor station, comm held between them, speaking to whatever defense effort Orson was leading with the islanders.
“Also,” Jaleel said. “It’s always time for lasagna. And we haven’t eaten since before six, this morning. Aren’t you hungry? Did your fearless leader teach you to go without food?”
“My stomach always knew how to be silent in times of danger,” Kol said.
“Who knows how long this will go on,” Jaleel argued. “If we’re stuck in a big siege, you can’t go days or longer without food. And Teddy’s the best. You didn’t even have to fight the robot horde and you still get his cooking for free, so you shouldn’t argue.”
“I’m not arguing necessarily,” Kol said. “I don’t want our pilot caught in the middle of dinner if he’s needed behind the wheel.”
There came a distant rumble, noise from yet another rocket attack at the outside of the ice wall. Wesley flew up onto Jaleel’s shoulder.
“This resort has noisy neighbors,” Jim said. “They are ruining the relaxing atmosphere.”
“They certainly are.” Dr. Stan briefly looked away from the sensor station.
“The island’s defense is having difficulty intercepting fast-moving aerial projectiles,” Max said. “That seems to be a hole in their capabilities.”
Another blast sounded outside. Kol stood and looked through the nearest window. The third and fourth planes sat silent, but fully loaded and packed. The only people he saw were more rifle-bearing guards, patrolling either side of the stone wall.
“See what I mean?” Kol asked. “This attack isn’t stopping.”
“We gotta eat,” Jaleel said. “I’ll stop in the middle I have to. Maybe you’ll thank me. Or...” He gasped. “Oh no! Maybe you’ll have to spend the next battle hanging onto our lasagna!”
“I’m sure I could find something more useful to do in a battle than holding food,” Kol said.
“Why don’t you do something helpful now?” Jaleel crossed his arms. “Give Wesley some strawberries. You need to get along if you’re gonna be hanging out with us and he has to eat too.”
“Sure.” Kol accepted the bowl from Jaleel, when he slipped it from the straps in the cupboard. Then Kol found the fridge’s fruit tray. “How many do you give him?”
Wesley began his chattering again and almost landed on Kol’s head as he glided for the open refridgerator. Kol leaned aside, giving the aeropine enough room to force his way onto the bottom ledge of the fridge, where he began sniffing packages.
“He’s in the fridge now,” Kol said. Wesley looked in his eyes. He rubbed his forepaws together and held them out expectantly.
“You can’t climb up in there, Buddy,” Jaleel said. “What if you get stuck in there! Why don’t you lure him out with his food.”
Kol reached his hand into the fruit tray and palmed a few strawberries. The aeropine hopped over onto his arm before he could pull it back from the tray. Wesley whimpered, licking and tapping at the back of Kol’s prosthetic hand.
Kol slowly pulled his arm back, and he opened his palm. Wesley took one of the strawberries into his mouth and flew away, crooning cheerily. Kol placed the rest of the strawberries in the bowl and shut the fridge.
“Not too bad.” Jaleel slid the lasagna into the oven with a rush of heat. “He doesn’t seem threatened by you. That must mean you really are one of the good guys. You’re definitely not in Team Rocket anymore. Our Pokemon is smart enough to know if you are.”
“I’m honored by his approval,” Kol said dryly. “So how long do you plan to reheat that?”
“Half hour,” Jaleel said. “Or so. If things look really promising, you can run some over for Enoa and Orson. We don’t have enough to share with the whole class, but hopefully they have their own food.”
“Who do you intend to send to the church?” Dr. Stan asked.
“Kol,” Jaleel said. “He’s the only one without a job, so he gets to run deliveries.”
“Kol would be a better choice to learn your firing systems,” Max said. “Not that I’m fit for deliveries, but my aim has not been what it was. I’m not as precise as I was trained to be.”
“I trust you,” Jaleel said. “Kol’s pretty good in a fight, we can use him.” He chuckled. “But you seem like you have steadier hands. So as acting captain, I nominate you, Max, to be our gunner!”
“Why don’t you try it?” Dr. Stan spoke in a soft voice and took Max’s hand. “I can help with displays and targeting.”
“Maybe the island will sink their whole fleet,” Jaleel said. “Old Testament stuff. The seas did rise that day!” He called the last in a booming shout. “With vengeance and the hammers of thunder!”
“It won’t be thunder’s hammer,” Orson called through the comm. “If you keep distracting my advice team. We’re kinda busy here.”
“Well, maybe we won’t send you lasagna,” Jaleel said. “I’ll only send some for Enoa.”
“You would send me all the way to the church with one plate of lasagna?” Kol asked, exasperated.
“After what you did to her house, I think you’re still getting off easy,” Jaleel said.
“Fair enough.” Kol bowed his head as Max and Dr. Stan laughed. “I accept your delivery assignment.” As if on cue, Wesley flew back to his bowl and grabbed another strawberry.
“You’re not going to withhold Teddy’s lasagna,” Orson said. “None of you would’ve met him without me. And while you’re cooking, you’ll have to hope the Aesir isn’t needed. They’re sending more planes out of here, just as soon as the missile thing is figured out. You don’t have very long.”
“You might be right, Jaleel,” Kol said. “This may be our only chance for rest and food.”
Kol tried again to listen for the assembled might of Helmont’s forces, gathered outside. He heard only a faint sound, the echo of far-off bells, the sound of the bright, clear power that pervaded everything beneath the wall of Knightschurch.
But then another rocket sounded, one that shook the earth beneath the ice and the ship. Until the barrage could be stopped or turned aside, the remaining islanders were trapped.
The unseen ships held them in a siege.
* * *
“They’re trying to surround you.” Orson watched the battle group scatter outward. He could see only the eight remaining large ships as specks on the horizon. The rest were too small. But now the specks spread out. Some passed to the blurry edges of the basin view and then beyond. “Can you switch the angle on this thing? We’ll probably want to keep our eyes on them.”
“We can change the focus,” Sir Merrill said, voice distant with concentration.
The basin view briefly turned cloudy and then came into focus looking out toward open ocean. Orson felt a line of twinges race up his arm, as if a current was following his nerve-endings to the shoulder and then dissipating all through him.
He grimaced. “It wasn’t much better the second time,” he said.
“You’ve done better with it than I did,” Sir Merrill said. “I nearly vomited my first time.”
“I’m stubborn,” he said.
Beyond the knight, the gathered students and Enoa no longer watched with their full focus. The apprentices had moved throughout the study. Some huddled together. If they spoke, they were too quiet to hear. Enoa was fiddling with her bracelet.
Motion caught Orson’s eye at the basin. In the distance, one of the specks from the battle group came into view, passing from the blurred edge of the bowl as it swung around the island.
“Are you totally sure that’s out of range?” Orson asked. “I might have another idea.”
“The defensive capabilities are localized here,” Sir Merrill said. “It can be imprecise when attempting an intervention over such a large area.” There came new flashs of light from the south, red and purple from a new Liberty Corps rocket and then the island’s answering lightning.
“Okay. I need to call my ship.” Orson pulled his bandana and comm closer to his mouth. “Hey, with what we know about their missile emplacements, how fast are they at making targeting adjustments?”
There was a moment of silence, then Max spoke through the comm. “We need more context. Sorry for the pause. Jaleel finished the lasagna.”
“He better save some for me,” Orson grumbled. He watched the distant speck of the Liberty Corps ship drift across the basin view. “I have a new idea. Sir Merrill already confirmed that moving the runway is out of the question.” The knight nodded once. “So instead, we’re going to let the Liberty Corps divide their ships, at least to a point. I still think we need to stop them from completely surrounding the island if we can, but for now, them splitting up is good.
“Once they’re divided,” Orson continued. “We’ll use two sustained columns of lightning to create an escape lane for departing planes. The next two planes we’ll send out at the same time. The last the Aesir will escort personally. And maybe we’ll pay a visit to Grover on our way out. We’ve still got my last concussion missile.”
“Remember that the lightning moves between the sky and the sea,” Sir Merrill said. “It may not be ideal in creating this escape vector.”
“Have you asked about the air defenses?” Max asked. “They were supposed to have a contingent of stolen aircraft, probably nothing to compare with the full starfighter-class ships, but still an asset.”
“No, I didn’t,” Orson said. “Sir Merrill, according to the information the Liberty Corps had, you were supposed to have some aircraft that could fight.”
“We used to,” Sir Merrill said. “But those were broken down for parts years ago. Now, we only have our two postal carriers.”
“They only have two for their mailmen,” Orson said.
“Are their mailmen armed?” Dr. Stan asked.
“Are they armed?” Orson asked hopefully.
“They each have their twin light-cannons,” Sir Merrill said. “But those have not been maintained beyond the general health of the vehicles.”
“Okay,” Orson said. “Adapted plan. Have the defenses do multiple columns of lightning, basically what you already do with the ice pillars. Make a lane for your escaping planes. Then they’ll gun it out. Send three and four at the same time. The Aesir and the mailmen will cover the escape of the last plane.”
Sir Merrill considered him. Then he removed his hand from the basin. Suddenly, it felt only cool beneath Orson’s hand. There were no more racing, electric sensations, just the same strange ice as the rest of the building.
“I will need time to focus,” Sir Merrill said. “I may need to stay here to make that possible.”
“No!” Harper called. “You can’t sacrifice yourself to help in the mundane plan.” All of the students returned from their corners and reformed their ring around the basin.
“I can take one of the straight roads,” Sir Merrill said.
“Let’s figure out the next couple planes first,” Orson said. “And then we’ll talk about the next part. Dr. Stan, Max, does my plan work as far as we know with the technology on those ships?”
“I don’t see a clear way for the Liberty Corps to counter it,” Max said. “Unless they immediately comprehend the change in tactic and adjust their fire in line with the escape route.”
“This is probably as good as we’ll get,” Orson said.
“Then I will focus.” Sir Merrill took a deep breath. “And work to make this a reality.”
“This is good timing,” Dr. Stan said. “We’ve sent Kol with food for you and Enoa.”
“You actually sent him here?” Orson asked. “We’ll have to go meet him somewhere. Teddy didn’t send enough to feed a whole magic school.”
“Actually.” Kol spoke from the open doorway. He held a long plastic container under an arm and had a black backpack over his shoulders. “I followed the voices and was waiting for an appropriate moment. I didn’t want to interrupt.”
“Have we been talking with the island for that long?” Orson asked.
“It’s a deceptive thing,” Sir Merrill said. “Really looking at the world. Perhaps Ophion should have spent more time exposing you to the great mysteries.”
“He tried.” Orson thought about those meditations, trying to look without his regular senses for the lives all through the Evergreen Forest, trying to call the sword to hand just by thinking, trying to raise the blue fire in his defense. “I can’t do any of that. But I can usually make up for it through trickiness. I, uh, hope I got to be a help for you here. Kol, we’ll follow you out. I don’t want to be rude to everybody and eat in front of them.”
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
“Jaleel sent multiple packs of your friend Teddy’s baked goods,” Kol said. “Dinner rolls, croissants, danish, cookies. Really, it’s anything that wasn’t frozen.”
“That’s nice,” Orson nodded to the class. “You’re in for a treat.” He focused on the students for the first time. So many of them looked like true children and none looked as old as Orson himself. “If you’re hungry and interested, we have a lot of our friend’s baking. He’s a master.”
Kol shifted the plastic case between his arms until he could wiggle the backpack free. He placed both at a free space on one of the long tables. He unloaded wrapped packages and set them all around.
“I think most of us ate before meditation.” Sir Merrill spoke with his eyes closed. “But you are more than welcome to accept the gift from our new friends.”
“There’s probably enough for you to have more than one.” Orson watched a line of students form beside Kol. “And Sir Merrill, you’re welcome to eat too.”
“Very kind,” Sir Merrill answered. “But it is a time for me to focus. It is a rare thing at my age to perform a feat I have never faced before.”
Orson found that more specks of Liberty Corps ships now circled the island.
“What are you thinking about the plan?” Orson walked closer to the knight.
“Eat your food, Captain,” Sir Merrill answered. “And eat quickly. They are surrounding us.” He took another deep breath and this seemed ritualistic, controlled and without worry. But when he spoke again his voice was grave.
“When I am ready,” he said. “We all must attempt our escape.”
* * *
Operative Divenoll watched the fighters scatter from the Balor, the hangars emptying of Dactyls and Saw-wings and filling the skies with swarms of metal gnats. The craft stayed close above the ships, away from the dance of rockets and lightning flashing all around the island.
Divenoll stood on the Balor’s bridge, where the lead crew was heavily outnumbered by the knights, their students, and other Shapers vying for a vacant knighthood. He wondered if the crew’s headsets were noise-reducing. They went about their work making no response to the buzzing mob, armored figures that fell silent only for commands from the baron himself.
Divenoll waited apart. He’d missed the rush to fight the defensive wave. He saw two other Shapers who had followed in the baron’s wake, a broad-shouldered ferrant Shaper named Larks and an older man with pronounced sideburns. What had they contributed to win their places near Helmont and his knights? But Divenoll did not compete against it. He would wait and allow them their time in the sun, until a true landing could be made, without surprises from the ancient, unseen power. Then Divenoll could prove his cunning and skill. He had no need to curry favor before the real battle began.
Baron Helmont entered the circle of command stations, away from Sir Vergil and Geber and his other close advisors. All Shapers and students fell silent.
“Can you hear me, Director?” Helmont asked.
“Yes, sir.” The lead Eye of Balor researcher’s voice projected out of speakers all along the bridge.
“The time has come to display your work,” Helmont said. “I want interlocking screens, as in test pattern Lambda. Maintain them as we continue flanking motion. Are you prepared?”
“We are prepared,” the answer came.
“Then you may open the Eye.”
The opening in the deck narrowed from a chasm to a circular space, a deep well that led into darkness.
But the darkness did not last. A faint, red light soon glowed from the circle. It began to project out even over the daytime sun, a solid red beam that reached into the sky.
Then the bridge windows all darkened, nearly opaque.
“Without direct exposure to the gem shards,” Helmont said. “None should be harmed, but we need not test prolonged exposure. Estimated time until encirclement?”
“Fifty-two minutes,” the helmsman said.
“Good,” Helmont answered. “Fifty-two minutes and then we will see how the Fourth House stands against the power of the harnassed Dreamside Road.”
* * *
Sirona set the video recorder on the far edge of the old mahogany desk. She’d aligned the camera with her chair before she’d taken her seat.
Her inherited office was all intricately-carved wood. Animal faces and complex knotted textures lined the walls. And the flickering sunset glow that crept in through the windswept sheer curtains made all the carvings look alive, like an enchantment in motion.
She took a moment to compose herself, center herself, and focus on her office computer, its screen just beside the camera. Then she pressed a key and her pre-written message began scrolling up the screen.
“I wanted to provide an update to you all, about the Marshall Call,” she read. “I’m sorry I haven’t organized a full meeting, but this is a complex situation and May Day is almost here, which most of us still observe. I hope you understand why the difficulties involved with coordinating a full call, during this time, were somewhat prohibitive.
“Here is the most-recent summary of current events: We now believe that the actions of the Liberty Corps, their artillery, and aircraft were secretly a diversion to draw either our attention, the attention of the Pacific Alliance, or both, in a maneuver that would allow them to send potentially thousands of troops quickly over Pacific Alliance territory and deliver them to a secret base at sea. All part of their ongoing interest in the still-missing Dreamside Road trove. Longtime community ally, the Aesir crew, is investigating this situation.
“Most of you are aware of my connection to the Aesir, and to Orson Gregory, the current captain. I’m not going to pretend these ties do not exist, but I must stress the reality of the Dreamside Road threat. And I have a request of our funds and location allocation for...”
She stopped speaking when the clacking started on the other side of the room. Her typewriter was moving.
Sirona looked directly into the camera again. “Cut,” she said. Then she retrieved the page from the typewriter and read it.
Sirona. It is Franklin.
I received a message from my friend Astrid at the sensor station in Longyear Town in Scandinavia. She looks at the arctic circle and was a contact for Norlenheim battle.
asked all my contacts in the far north to look at the area of the Chukchi Sea for any readings that might show a battle going on.
Astrid just noticed something. Her station detected a massive spike of electromagnetic radiation. I do not totally understand. But the signature is nothing she has seen before.
I think that the eye of balor is being used. I am sorry.
I will update more if anything happens.
Sirona set the page aside and she returned to her chair. She sat for a long time. One way or another, the statement would have to wait.
* * *
Enoa hadn’t felt hungry, but she devoured the food Jaleel had sent. It was fearful hunger. She hardly savored the work Teddy had put into her lasagna.
They sat on a bench on the lower level of the cathedral, on the opposite side of the curving stair, Orson and Kol with her. They seemed to be in the same state, eating at a desperate pace, as if the Liberty Corps rockets could come exploding through the church at any time.
Beside them, the main sanctuary of the church was blocked off by two towering ice doors. They were adorned with colored windows, including a figure in armor holding a massive green sword, point down.
“When we’re done eating,” Orson said, “We’ll finish planning with Sir Merrill, then we better go back to the Aesir. He referenced using some kind of magic transportation to get off the island, but I’d rather we grab him on our way out. We could probably cross this whole island in a second or two, full-throttle.”
Enoa sighed. What would Aunt Su think of how it had all turned out? She hadn’t read the letter. Now, she’d get no proper training. The island where she was supposed to find sanctuary was about to fall to the Liberty Corps.
There were fast footfalls on the stairs. The runner seemed to bound four steps at a time. Then Harper rushed out into the lower level. Her eyes were wide. She had an erratic presence that seemed to Enoa to flicker, a flashing warning.
“Captain,” Harper said. “My uncle needs a word with you. Something’s happening.”
“Right.” Orson forced the rest of his roll in his mouth and stood. Harper raced back up the steps and he followed after her. But then he turned around. “Kol, head back to the ship when you’re done eating, just in case.”
“Of course.” Kol seemed to give off no visible presence. Enoa saw nothing from him. He found her looking and gave a stiff nod.
Enoa thought about saying something. It was a heavy silence, weighed down by all that had happened to them both. Had it really been only months since they’d fought outside Nimauk?
Enoa could think of nothing to add. Instead, she gulped down the last of her lasagna and returned her fork to its plastic case.
“Thank you, Kol,” she said.
“You’re welcome,” he answered. “But you have to thank Jaleel. This was all his doing.”
“Thank him for me. Be safe.” Then Enoa ran up the stairs too, as fast as she dared on the strange, smooth steps. The corridor above was clear. She found everyone gathered around the dais, but now it gave off a harsh, red light.
“...must contact the council,” Sir Merrill was saying. “This changes our plans. We know too little to attempt a pass at the field until we can meet it with our own force.”
“Yeah.” Orson looked over his shoulder at Enoa, but continued speaking to the knight. “If you’re set on running, you don’t want to wait and let them get some kind of foothold here. My advice, see what your lightning blast does. If you can make an opening, take it.” Orson motioned to her and she walked around the crowd to stand with him. Enoa looked down into the basin, and she had no doubt what she was seeing.
The Liberty Corps had opened the Eye of Balor.
A red wall stood a thousand feet over the ocean. It glowed and pulsated, like a heartbeat pumped blood all through it. The still water steamed where the Eye’s power touched it. And though the red light looked to pour out of the Liberty Corps ships, as if water from a faucet, the wall looked tangible. It looked alive in a way that other energy Enoa had seen never did Kol’s Shaping looked only electrical. All Shaping felt connected to the Shaper, made by them.
The power from the Eye of Balor was its own living organism, a tide of warm-blooded light that chewed at the sea as it moved through the air, carried by the Liberty Corps.
When she looked, Enoa felt the frantic motion of sea life at the living light, terror and then stillness. Before, the distance had been too great, but now the limits of her senses were surpassed by the magnitude of death. The Eye’s light would devour all the life and all the living energy in its path.
The Liberty Corps carried the Eye of Balor closer to the island. Already the living wall was curving at the top, wrapping up as if to form a dome above Knightschurch, to devour it. Enoa found herself looking for it, as if she would see the living red bleed through the white ice all around her.
“They opened it,” Orson said. “I’m still thinking we get the residents out of here and try to shove our last missile down Grover’s throat. He wants to build the new America into a global empire, so I’ll blast him with real American engineering.”
“This light...” Harper came up beside the dais. “Other weapons like these were hidden with the trove? This is not the only object with such power?”
“No,” Sir Merrill said, and he answered slowly, as if from distant memory. “Many things were hidden with the trove before the changing of the locks. There was research and classified information, secrets the Hierarchia wanted to hide, but still hoped to use. There were powers too, Fortean artifacts that even our craft at the height of our knowledge could not replicate. Two of three unseated crowns may be there, Grimhild’s certainly. And the Merlinus Sceptre too. And many items that fall far from my knowledge.”
Harper took a ragged breath and the guard she’d met before came forward and held her at the shoulders. She leaned back against him.
“Right now,” Orson said, still calm. “We don’t need to worry about the rest of the trove, except to keep our keys safe. Let’s just figure out how to get past that thing. Can you smack that field with a full lightning blast? See what it does? It’s still pretty far away.”
“Yes.” Sir Merrill placed both hands on the basin’s rim. And, without pause, a lightning bolt bloomed between sky and sea. The purple light was oddly comforting. It was a spear thrown to earth. It was not alive. It was a weapon of the fourth house.
The lightning bolt divided, forked on either end until it looked like a tree with many branches and roots. And the bolt remained, sustained in the air. It bent toward the solid glowing barrier.
Wherever the branches of lightning touched the red light, the Eye’s living red exploded, leaving holes that spilled daylight. After a delay, Enoa could hear the many blasts, the finale of far-off fireworks.
But the red field grew again. It sealed, and it was solid. The harsh light seemed even more oppressive, like the heartbeat sped up to heal the wounds. The Liberty Corps ships did not stop their advance.
“You made some little openings,” Orson said. “If we can coordinate how long you do that, with your escaping planes, you better go for it.”
“Wait,” Harper said. “How can we let our own secrets fall into their hands? Maybe we should stay. How can mundane power of this or any world stand against something that can remake itself this way. Who could stop this, but us?” Sir Merrill and all the students watched her.
“Now I agree with you,” Orson said. “Give me the help of your best Shapers or whatever you call them. We’ll skim the ocean, board their flagship, and fight their baron. If we destroy the eye, you can sink the rest of their ships with the power your family put here.”
“The council voted to flee,” Sir Merrill said, as if resigned. “And they and their families have seats on the fourth plane. They will be ready to evacuate. I doubt they would change their minds. We have always taught pacifism. Fleeing now is the only way we might save all or most of the lives that depend on the sanctuary we have granted. You are all young. You do not yet fully understand the responsibility we carry. I cannot condone warfare that might lead us all to death.”
He waited for no more argument. Instead, he reached to the neck of his tunic and grabbed something that hung there. He lifted a chain that seemed to melt into the side of a Talking Stone.
When Sir Merrill lifted the stone, he caught another chain with it. The second held a pendant in the shape of fire within a crescent moon. He already wore his Dreamside Road key.
Sir Merrill let the key fall back under his tunic and raised the stone. “Evacuate three and four. I will be ready for them.” Then he planted both hands on the basin. “We will see how their hoarded treasure stands against the fist of my ancestors.” He closed his eyes again.
Outside, the Liberty Corps renewed their barrage, but the missiles burst against four new lightning trees. They were towering things that flared with constant light. They met the glow from the Eye of Balor in new showers of fireworks.
The branches again exploded against the Eye’s wall, cutting into the solid light and tearing wide holes in its side. Clear daylight could be seen there, where the influence of the Eye could not taint it crimson.
Enoa heard the rumble from the unzipping ice. And just in time, the third evacuating plane blasted out from the wall. It flew over the beach and the open water. Even with its thrust engines glowing, Enoa clenched her fists as it escaped toward the battling lights.
Then it passed between the lightning and the Eye’s living wall and was gone, flying out over the open sea and beyond the Liberty Corps forces.
Sir Merrill groaned. Enoa looked at him and found him swaying as he gripped the basin’s edge. His knuckles were white and sweat ran down his brow. His hair was soaked, as if he’d been sprinting. His presence also seemed to blink, as Harper’s had, but this was not fear. His presence flickered like muscles shaking and straining from exhaustion.
Enoa glanced back to the Basin’s view when she caught the motion of the fourth plane. So close, she thought. If only she could bolster the old knight’s spirit, help him hold on, help him fight a little longer.
But then the red wall flashed bright. Its own heart was pounding. It stretched up, curving over the island. There was a deep groaning that seemed to come from everywhere and beneath them, a subterranean pain.
Then everything rang with a crash so loud Enoa expected to see all the ice around her shattering, and all to collapse and crush her, end her journey, end her.
Orson rested his hand on her arm, like he was about to pull them both to the floor. “Something broke,” he whispered.
Enoa saw her fate. She decided it wouldn’t have mattered if she’d followed Aunt Su’s wishes. If she’d come to Knightschurch for training, she would still have been doomed. From the moment of Sucora Cloud’s death, all paths led Enoa to the Eye of Balor. Was this her destiny? Was this always how she was going to die?
The lightning trees at the water all shattered, one-by-one with the fourth plane still between their branching arms. The glowing bolts broke apart with claps of thunder. Thin arcs of electricity rained down into the water.
Sir Merrill moaned and stumbled away from the basin. All of the students screamed and shouted.
“Uncle!” Harper rushed around Enoa to the old knight, the other students following.
Only Orson and Enoa stayed at the basin’s edge. The red wall regrew, its new wounds healed shut. The daylight was choked out. The living red won.
The fourth plane was trapped. It twisted in the air, still above the ocean and the Liberty Corps forces. The plane was too slow. Its wing brushed the red field. Enoa braced herself. Would it explode?
Sparks flew from the wing, but the plane finished its turn. It angled back to the island, its port side aflame, red like the Eye’s light. Could it reach the ice? The plane angled lower and lower and it rocked from side-to-side. It passed out of Enoa’s sight.
“I failed them,” Sir Merrill said. “I failed them.”
Enoa tried to sense the power of the island. She tried to sense some response to the crashing plane, but she saw none of the island’s power. She did not see the plane crash either, but she felt the ground shake. And then a new rocket barrage began from the Balor Group. With it came a new sound. The ice unzipped open, but the sound stopped short and ended in another shattering of ice.
Enoa did not need her months of training to know that the Liberty Corps had breached the wall of Knightschurch.