Enoa felt the power of the hundred Shapers burst through the ice ceiling. She recognized Helmont’s mind. It hung over everything like a rain-fat cloud.
She also knew some of the knights that had confronted Orson at the Crystal Dune and at the Pinnacle. She couldn’t tell how many ships hid among the drones, but everything was surrounded by Dactyls. Dozens, maybe hundreds, of the machines poured inside. They rained fire into the buildings around the cathedral, sending random death.
A group of drones swung for the Aesir, scorching the grass and peppering the shield with light.
“With that many they’ll overload the shields and cook us.” Jaleel didn’t hesitate. He activated the repulsors and launched the Aesir from the ground. “Max, you ready? Let’s grab Orson and see what he wants us to do.”
“Are we prepared to fire inside the ice?” Dr. Stan had a slight quaver in her voice.
“There will be fighting here no matter what we do,” Max said. “I am as ready as I am going to be.” He set his hands on the firing controls. He gripped them tight, as if bracing for a firearm’s recoil. “Sophia, could you please try again to find the source of their commands? They must be coming from Helmont’s ship or somewhere close.”
The arriving drones scattered over the town, except a swirling mass that protected the bell-shaped shuttle and another ship. Yes, just one other – Enoa felt the lives aboard the two distinct craft. One was the bell. The other was a tall box, like a flying building with guiding fins. It was a dropship, like the one Orson had destroyed in Trolley Town. Between the two ships, over one hundred Shapers gathered in the air above the cathedral.
“Helmont knows where the key is!” Enoa stood from the couch. She braced herself with her staff. “He’s going after Sir Merrill and the key! The students who are controlling the island’s defenses are in the church too!”
“Big mistake!” Jaleel said. “If we take out the shuttle, then it’s over, Grover! We win! Enoa! Sit back down!”
“Keep all hands and feet inside the ride at all times!” Jim called.
“Okay, Jim.” Enoa returned to the couch. But her attention was outside on the shuttle and the drop ship and the storm of drones. They still floated above the cathedral, but the island’s will and power had risen to fight them. Enoa could sense a force pushing the attackers away, a constant gale, a barrier as firm as a solid wall.
The shuttle pushed back against it, with Helmont’s own presence towering over all. Some of the drones were thrown aside by the cathedral’s barrier, but most stayed firm, joining the struggle.
“I smells me a boss battle,” Jaleel said.
“You have a way with words.” Kol inhaled deeply, his eyes shut.
“Max, how do you feel about using the missile?” Jaleel swerved them to the right. Enoa landed sideways on the couch. Jim reached out to help her into a sitting position. Something exploded outside and drowned out whatever the android said.
“Thank you!” She shouted. Wesley started crooning at the sound of her voice. He sounded miserable and pitiful. “I’m so sorry, Sweetie!” And what else could she say? She thought of Teddy and April and their cats, safe with Sirona. Maybe the little aeropine should have gone with them. Maybe they all should have.
There came the drumroll sound of the Incursion Cannons firing. The noise was met by two smaller explosions. Then everything nearby went silent, like they’d found the eye of the storm.
“I don’t know, Jaleel,” Max said. His voice was still firm, but grave. “I’m not sure if I can pick up the firing controls with only a single shot. I don’t think I ever could have done that.”
“You’ll have the targeting help,” Jaleel said. “That should make it a little easier. This is our chance, our big shot to beat Helmont!”
Max looked from the controls to Jaleel. "Very well,” he said.
“Do you truly have a plan to evade all of those drones?” Dr. Stan asked.
“Just like dodging Thopters back home.” Jaleel laughed and hit the throttle, and they blasted ahead. Through the windshield, Enoa saw a sickening whirl of whites and greens and flashing lights. She closed her own eyes and looked with her Shaping.
Seven Dactyls flew between them and the cathedral’s outer wall. Two exploded from Incursion fire. Max held the triggers and loosed sustained streams that scattered the remaining attackers.
The shuttle and its mass of drones loomed ahead. The enemies were occupied, fighting against the barrier, like fish swimming upstream. The Aesir’s guns opened fire again and chewed into the squirming drones. The Dactyls surged. They gathered as shields between the Aesir’s attack and the baron’s shuttle.
“Missile!” Jaleel yelled. “He’s not moving! Hit him!” They were almost at the wall, nearly on top of the enemy forces, just yards from the shuttle, where it struggled in the air.
The missile didn’t launch. The Aesir passed above the church wall and everything spun around them.
The will of the island reached out and flung them aside. The same power that held the baron tossed them away from the church like a hand shooing a gnat.
Enoa tried to follow the ship’s movements in her mind, but something more than the spinning hit her, like the power at the cathedral had reached inside her. She felt like she was going be sick. Kol groaned beside her.
She caught her bearings again when Jaleel regained control. He took the ship away from the cathedral. Only one drone followed them, but it broke off when they drifted too far from the Liberty Corps’s main target.
The comm chimed at the dashboard. It sounded cheerful in the middle of constant danger. Jaleel answered it.
“We need pickup,” Orson said. “We can’t let Helmont land at the church. I have Harper, Jendring, and a team ready to go in. We’re about four hundred feet southeast of you. We have a new plan for Helmont.”
“Be right there.” Jaleel took them almost to the base of the stone rampart. He didn’t land the ship, just left it hovering above the ground.
A crowd gathered there, guards with their shields and rifles, and students who wore swords on their belts. Orson waved to them from the middle of the group and ran to meet the ship.
Orson jumped inside. “That was a good idea, but it looks like the only way they’re keeping Grover out is with a blanket defense. We need to get some defenders over there in case any Liberty Corps forces make it to the ground. Then we need to figure out if the drones are remote controlled or if they’re all independent.”
“I believe they are responding to a remote signal,” Dr. Stan said. “Though I can’t say whether they will be deactivated if the source is destroyed, or if they will simply return to their standby.”
“Anything’s better than this.” Orson motioned to the defenders. They followed him aboard, packing the cabin. “Where is the signal coming from?”
“I don’t know.” Dr. Stan scanned her monitor. “It seems to be coming from everywhere. For all we can see, the signal could be following them through the broken ceiling and is simply bouncing along the ice due to the unique properties of the structure.”
“How do you want me to switch up the inertials?” Jaleel asked. “We don’t have room for everybody to sit down.”
“We just have to get to the church wall without being gunned down by the Dactyls,” Orson said. “The locals have another way inside. We can go with them.”
“That may not be possible.” Harper held her Talking Stone at her ear. “The same defense that repulsed this ship may do the same to you, Captain. You are not of this island.”
“Well, you need me in there,” Orson said.
“I’m sorry!” A strained cry came from the stone. Harper held it up so the sound filled the cabin. “Can’t do more! We have to hold the will against everything! They’re too strong!”
“Then we’ll destroy those drones!” Orson shouted. “Once they’re gone, you can let down the defense. I’ll meet Grover and his knights.”
“No.” The new voice that spoke was soft, but it projected just as easily. It was Sir Merrill. “You will leave this place. Captain Gregory, gather all who are willing and able to leave. Find a way through the Eye’s power. That must be your focus now. Taric, I told you to stay away from here. Take your friends and leave me to this baron.”
“We needed to do this!” Taric screamed. “The Ancestors’ Will can stop them.”
“I don’t believe the Ancestors’ Will can best the Eye of Balor,” Sir Merrill said. “As it stands, you are a target for our enemies, and if they don’t kill you, the weight of my ancestors could break you. They were my own blood, and the power they left behind is barely under my control. Think Taric – why destroy yourself to wield a power that cannot win.”
Something exploded outside. Enoa saw a flash through the windshield, and the Tri-cannon fired in response.
“Where are we going?” Jaleel asked.
“Flee!” Sir Merrill commanded.
“We can’t leave you,” Harper answered. The guards around her yelled in agreement.
More explosions sounded outside the ship, and Enoa felt the repulsors move them into a hovering position above a canal.
The water stirred beneath them, sending ripples along the canal, like blood through a body. Enoa followed the ripples. She sensed the motion of all the systems under the ice. She saw the natural systems and the arcs of human-controlled power, Shaping and the motion of ships.
And she followed the signal that bounced everywhere under the ice – Enoa could almost see it move around the walls, flying everywhere, absorbed by the drones.
Enoa looked deeper, watched the moving signal, flying faster than her mind could really track. No aspect of the physical world was shifted or changed by that motion, but once she saw it, she could not ignore it.
The signal was everywhere, always rising, bouncing up out of the water.
“The control signal is coming from the canals!” Enoa shouted, and then silence fell around her. “I think it’s starting near the ice wall. I can feel it. I can find it. They’re bringing the signal inside somehow.” All watched her.
“Then let’s go,” Jaleel said.
“Take us to the church first.” Jendring walked ahead of the group. “Please. We need someone on the ground. There are places in the cathedral to mount a defense, gunnery holes and workable positions. And we know enough of the spellcraft to get inside.”
“I will go with Enoa Cloud,” Harper said. “She can find the source, and I can protect her. The Aesir will join us when our force has reached the cathedral.” She loosened the dagger at her belt.
“Maybe I can find my way inside the church too,” Orson said. “Give Grover a real surprise. I have a feeling we’re headed toward that. He trained all his career to fight people like you, but I trained all of mine to fight guys like him. Besides, I’m overdue for last month’s final showdown.”
“You would be better heeding my warning.” Sir Merrill spoke again through the stone. “To run, to escape.”
“I’m sorry, Uncle,” Harper answered. “We love you and our home too much. We’ve failed in your teachings twice. We fight and we refuse your wishes.”
“Hurry!” Taric shouted. Other calls echoed his. They sounded like anguished ghosts.
“We will.” Harper returned her Talking Stone. “Enoa, may we leave at the nearest path?”
Enoa sensed for the feeling of the signal, watching it rise from the water, four canals away... or five.
“We’re pretty close,” Enoa said. “Yes.”
“Be careful!” Jaleel guided the ship away from the canal. The guards were steady on their feet. Enoa sensed power from some of them, helping to root them in place.
More energy fire struck the ship’s shield. But when they reached solid ground, Harper didn’t hesitate. She rounded opened the door and drew her dagger.
“For Knightschurch!” Harper jumped from the ship. The guards yelled back to her, a cry that didn’t sound like English.
Enoa took a final glance toward her own crew before following her out into the noise of the battle, one drone already bearing down on them.
Harper’s ignition caught the energy fire. Heat from the strike washed over them. The Aesir fired its roof cannon at the drone, but the shots flew wild and wide and missed.
Then the Aesir took off and the Incursions chewed the drone to pieces. Its remains tumbled into the nearest canal. Enoa watched the Aesir fly back toward the church and the struggle happening in the air.
“You’re showing the way,” Harper reminded her.
“Of course.” Enoa nodded. She found the signal again and led Harper along the path between canals.
* * *
Orson gathered his best remaining weapons, the last that he knew were safe from Helmont’s Tactum. He loaded his belt with Sirona’s combustion grenades, his stink set, and his final Colchean man trap. He checked the clasp that clipped the lantern to his sword’s hilt and collected the rest of the sword’s fire tools – the focusing lens and the decompressor.
He slipped his thought-breaker kazoo back into a coat pocket and switched his gloves. He had no need of the wired gloves that fit his solar cell. He had nothing left to power, so he donned thin, dark gloves that glittered crimson at the knuckles. He left everything else behind.
The Aesir floated down a canal, just above the water. The cathedral loomed ahead, the Liberty Corps force filling the air above it. Helmont’s shuttle glowed red again, like the probes that had battled the Corwins and Sirona.
The shuttle sent an energy beam that halted in the air only feet from the cathedral. The beam went fuzzy at the edges like television static.
“We should have waited to collect the old lord’s armor,” one of the guards said.
“There was no time,” Jendring answered. “Perhaps if we’d heeded the warning from our guests, we might be so prepared.” He glanced back at Orson. “We will work with what we have now.”
“Where am I stopping?” Jaleel turned the ship over the canal that looped around the island’s temples and the cathedral. Two of the Dactyls flew overhead, firing. Max returned fire from the roof gun, erratic blasts of yellow light. Neither drone was struck, but they flew aside.
“Get us as close to the church as you can,” Orson said. “Then go back to help Enoa and Harper. Once those drones are out of the picture, we’ll all focus everything on Grover and his ship.”
“Defenders of Knightschurch.” Jendring spoke up. “You know the battlements of the old cathedral the way you know your own bodies. This is what we have dreaded, but also prepared for. This is for our home, that we would die for. We have had little time to review what the Aesir crew has brought to us. The Liberty Corps Shapers study warfare and power, but they do not know our subtlety, what the forefathers of the house that trained us learned from the Elder peoples. Focus on that. Focus on evasion.
“We will pass through the wall and enter the church. Only those who enter on foot are our concern.” Jendring adjusted the bandolier across his chest, tightened his shield, and changed his grip on his rifle. Others did the same, with rifle and bow and sword, with shield and spear.
“Orson,” Dr. Stan said. “Your ship appears to view the defensive zone created around the cathedral as an immense pressure differential, such as might exist within hurricanes that could only occur in gas giants. It frankly doesn’t make any sense.”
“So it’s like magic,” Orson said. “Any high-class magic like that is going to look really weird on the sensors,” he added. “Just save the files for future reference. If we don’t get blown up, then we can all puzzle over it.”
“I enjoy magic,” Jim said. “But I have never seen a magician. They go to parties. They do not fight sightseers.”
“Don’t worry about that, Jim,” Orson said. “You can stay here and make sure everybody’s safe on the ship. You’re all going to help Enoa keep out the noisy neighbors.” Orson nodded to Kol. “You too.”
“No argument from me,” Kol said. “If you see the knight wearing the antennae on his helmet, ask him where Duncan is.”
“Alright,” Orson said. “Most of you have already done well more than enough on this trip. If we can get that church secure, just leave Grover to me.”
“You really mean that,” Jendring said. “From most men, it would be a boast, but I’m not so certain with you.”
“I only boast when mean it.” Orson smiled.
“We’re coming to a stop!” Jaleel called. “Watch your step leaving the ship. Wayfarer Air thanks you for choosing us for all your battle transportation needs.” The Aesir halted.
Orson opened the door and jumped out onto the central island. Already he could feel the force from the cathedral, whipping across the open ground in gusts that tore at his raised hood. He tightened it in place and waited for the gathering of guards to rush from his ship.
A trio of Dactyls spotted them. They dove from the heights of the broken ceiling. The Eye’s red glow burned above them, and they fell toward the defenders.
“Shields!” Jendring called. All guards with shields raised them. All others clustered beneath them. They ran in a sprint for the towering cathedral wall.
Orson watched the Aesir join the battle, sending out wide sprays of heat and metal. The ship flew, and Orson raced to catch the running guards. Turned toward the church, he took in the mass of the Liberty Corps force, still battling in the air. The forces on the shuttle and dropship would not be the average Rifle Troopers. These would be Shapers, the greatest warriors of Helmont’s power, from the Liberty Corps and the Hierarchia before them.
The cathedral wall warped open ahead. It unzipped for the defenders before they reached it. Jendring led the way. All ran, through the wall and beneath their enemies.
Orson got a brief view of the courtyard, littered with chunks of broken ice. Shards stood taller than he did, like upraised blades.
He entered the break in the ice at a run and didn’t feel the barrier before it seized him. Then his alarms were beeping in his ears, and he ran into a wall could not see.
Orson fell backward. He grasped at the ice wall, but it was perfectly smooth. He slid all the way to the ground. He could feel the barrier washing over him, trying to catch better purchase on his armor.
He had a horrible vision of the ice closing on him and trying to crush him. He scrambled back to his feet and ran outside the wall.
“Captain Gregory!” Jendring shouted from the other side. “It doesn’t recognize friend from foe. Come through with me. I’ll see you inside.” He ran back to Orson.
“I’m sorry,” Orson said. “It must really know all the locals.”
“Yes.” Jendring raised his Talking Stone. “Taric. We must let Orson Gregory through the wall. He has come to help us fight.”
“I can’t stop it!” Taric screamed through the stone. “The will fights everything. We have to fight everything. I can’t. I can’t.” His voice fell away into a gasping pause.
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
“I will take him through with me.” Jendring pocketed the stone. He looped his arm around Orson’s shoulders. “You belong here. Think that. Know it.”
“Right.” Orson tried to think it. I am here to defend this place – he knew that. He was there to fight the Liberty Corps, the Hierarchia, Helmont, the whole long line of power that had destroyed his world and then just about everybody else’s.
But did he really belong anywhere? Orson was not surprised when the barrier seized him again, held him firm so Jendring could not force him over the threshold of the ice.
Jendring muttered something under his breath that was surely profanity. He looked back and forth, as if the wall itself might hold some answer for him.
“Come to us when the drones are destroyed. Then we will fight this baron together.” Jendring raised his rifle parallel to the ground as if in salute. Orson answered with a two-fingered salute of his own.
Then Jendring was gone, back through the wall. Orson watched him until he and all the defenders vanished from sight.
The ice wall sealed in his face.
* * *
Enoa followed the drone signal to the raised stone rampart. It was louder there at the edges, a reverberation she could almost hear with her ears. Harper ran beside her with her dagger ready, but the drones had peeled away from the smoking village to keep vigil above the church.
The sense of the signal led Enoa to one of the raised artillery weapons. A group of students and guards stood there around a small dark-haired girl.
“Harper!” The child squirmed away from the students. “Harper, they won’t let me go home. Daz was supposed to get me, but he isn’t here.” One of the students gave her an uncomfortable look.
“No?” Harper sheathed the blade and went down on one knee, so she was at eye level with the girl. “They must have a good reason, Fior. This is no time for you to be outside.” She shot a look at Enoa. “I’ll check on this. Find the signal.”
“Sure.” Enoa tried to ignore the fear in the child’s voice. She looked back to the sensation she’d followed all the way from the Aesir. The guards watched her as she walked beside their old, wooden weapon. Enoa came to a place where the stone wall pressed against the outer wall of ice.
Enoa ran her hands over the ice, but she couldn’t fully ignore the child. “They won’t let me go home!” The girl’s voice broke through Enoa’s concentration, and she thought of her own home, destroyed. Enoa couldn’t go home either, but she was no child. She was old enough and powerful enough to fight.
She was powerful because Aunt Su had trained her. She was powerful because of her lifetime of training. Aunt Su had always kept her safe, unaware of their great peril. And she’d given her the tools to choose. Enoa could choose to go to Knightschurch, to be safe and hidden. She could choose to learn to fight. Sucora had let Enoa decide. Enoa was powerful with her strength of decades and her recent months of focused training. She followed her lifetime of practice.
Enoa’s searching for the signal led her hand to a thin line that ran down the ice wall. The line didn’t shine with the Eye’s red light or from the small battery lantern that sat beside the artillery. It did not belong.
She could only see it in her mind. It seemed to spark, sending out bursts of light as it projected its message. She followed the line with her finger, coarse metal on the smooth ice.
The line entered the ice from outside! Then it trailed all the way across the stone rampart and beyond. Enoa followed it along the ground, past the weapon, the guards, the students, past Harper and the little girl.
“One of you,” Harper said. “Until we know where everyone is, escort the citizens beneath the old grain silo. It will be insulated there, and it is somewhere they’re less likely to go.” She hugged the girl and stayed beside her until one of the students took her hand and began to lead her away.
“We’ll all be home together,” Harper said. “If I can, I’ll look for your brother with you.” The girl looked shellshocked, but stopped her cries as she was taken back down the rampart.
“Her family was supposed to be aboard the final plane,” Harper explained. “Her brother is a student, two years younger than me. Her parents are lore masons. You'd likely think of them as Shapers. They were called to repair our defenses and our buildings.”
“Are they okay?” Enoa followed the thread as it wrapped around the rampart and led down into the water of a canal below.
“I don’t know,” Harper said. “Did you find something?”
“Yes.” Enoa stood. “There’s something that comes in the wall. I think the Liberty Corps shot it inside when you opened the ice.” She tried to lift the thread, but it didn’t bend far. It was rough and gripped the stone with a body that was ridged like an earthworm’s. The signal ran from the thread and bounced through the water and along the ice.
“Those robots have been leaving us alone this far from the church,” Enoa said. “They might change their mind if this is what’s controlling them. Should I destroy it?”
“Yes.” Harper said. “Do it.”
Enoa struck the thread with her staff. She sent out a blast that did not alter the stone, but snapped the thread in two.
The signal vanished! Enoa turned out to watch the drones. She saw six in an aerial dance with the Aesir, the ship firing from all guns. She watched the crowd of drones around Helmont’s shuttle.
None of them did so much as change course.
Then Enoa felt the signal return. It was fainter now, like only an echo was reaching her, but it didn’t go away.
And Enoa’s prediction came true when the signal returned to them. Dactyls broke off from their rampage, away from the cathedral, away from Helmont’s attack. Twenty or thirty or more swerved toward the rampart, toward them.
“Abandon the trebuchet at the western slope!” Harper yelled. "Scatter to further positions!” She redrew her dagger. The green fire appeared in the air, in front of the defenders, the last students and guards at that position. All ran down the ramp, away from the trebuchet.
Enoa raised her staff. They were surrounded by water. The air was active and humid. It was easy to charge the energy around her. She formed clusters of droplets that exploded against a Dactyl, then a second, then a third.
Small explosions covered the drones, biting at their fins and saucers. All three swerved into the ground.
“Run!” Harper yelled. They started down the ramp too, as the air filled with red light. The trebuchet splintered and burned beside them.
Enoa formed another cluster of Bullet Rain, but she couldn’t see if it connected. Everything on that open side of the ramp glowed green with the fire from Harper’s Ignition. It was hot enough to send sweat running from Enoa’s hair and down into her eyes.
Harper shouted something, but all sounds were swallowed in the whirring and guttural noises from the drones.
Enoa attacked again. She turned her focus away from the staff. She reached for the air directly, thick with moisture.
She made her own ignition. She could not see the drones, but she felt them. And when they flew closer, they met her own wall of fire. A whole line of condensation formed droplets, and the droplets exploded on contact. Fire raced along a group of the Dactyls that fell burning to the ground and the canal water.
Heavy noises of energy blasts joined the cacophony. These were not the staccato shots from the drones.
Enoa expected to find the Aesir when she and Harper reached the bottom of the slope. Instead, new ships flew nearby. They had long, rectangular bodies, and wings that curved like tusks down and around their cockpits. Green light shot from these wings, burning through the Dactyl line from behind. The remaining drones spun toward them and were led away as the newcomers flew between canals.
The Aesir met the battle there, shooting drone after drone until that canal also burned from their fallen bodies.
“Your mailmen?” Enoa asked.
“Yes,” Harper said. “The message carriers.” Harper let her shield fade. She held the bottom of the rampart as she caught her breath. “Your aunt taught you to wield such power? She must have been very skilled.”
“She must have been,” Enoa agreed. “She didn’t tell me about Shaping... or about what our meditation was really teaching me – how she was really training my mind so I could be a Shaper. I still don’t know if I agree with that choice, with not telling me, but I’m starting to understand. Maybe. I know now how dangerous the world is. She gave me what I needed to defend myself, but not be afraid all the time. That poor little girl, Fior, she’ll have this bad memory always. But I grew up feeling safe. I had a normal life, even as Aunt Su taught me. Now, I get to choose. I’m not afraid, not of the danger. It’s who I am and what culture is really mine that I still have to think about.”
“I do know that feeling.” Harper turned the dagger in her free hand. “There was a time when the only heirs could be high born by the old measure, one of the twelve families joining with another or, in rare cases, a different noble. I would not have received the training when my grandmother married a man native to this island. His line of the family lived here before House Dommik arrived. Now I’m the only one who does practice all the old arts. I have to. Who am I to decide what is forgotten? Now, I can choose to fight, as you have, even against my uncle’s wishes. He is the last proper knight, but the fire of House Dommik is raised in battle only by me. The ascendant fire is only mine, who is only half of that bloodline. The identity is a frightening thing, the responsibility, but not the danger to myself.”
Harper flexed her fingers and stepped away from the rampart. “Now, Enoa Cloud, let’s waste no more time. What was that object you destroyed that called these machines? What’s happening?”
“I think the signal is coming from outside.” Enoa watched the signal, sensed how it bounced inside the ice. She could feel how it entered, at points too small to find with the naked eye. It scattered all along the walls. “I think a ship outside must have shot those lines in here when you opened the ice to attack them. There are many of them.”
“Then we will need to destroy the source,” Harper said. “Is this possible on foot?”
Enoa followed the signal out through the ice. It was vague, a distorted light with its source obscured.
When she focused, she could feel it – she could feel them. There were two points where the signal lines converged, crouched in the shallows beyond the shore.
“They’re using two submarines,” Enoa said. “I can try to make them surface.”
“We will go, but first tell your ship.” Harper lifted her Talking Stone. “Hermod East and Hermod West. We are going outside to shut off the sources of the drones. Join us if you can.”
Enoa raised her own comm. “Hi everyone,” she said. “Uh, this is Wayfarer Two.”
“Hi, Wayfarer Two!” Jaleel called. “It’s Wayfarer Three! Are you okay?”
“Harper and I are going to destroy the signal,” Enoa said. Harper had returned her Talking Stone to her belt. “It’s coming from two submarines, one on each side of the island. Do you want to come along?”
“I think we can in a minute,” Jaleel said. There was an explosion over the comm, and Enoa held the device further from her head. She found the Aesir in the distance, again encircled by more of the drones.
“I’ll test your theory.” Harper walked ahead. She held her hand to the ice. It opened, and Harper angled her dagger so the fire burned at the gap.
Something sizzled against the blade. Enoa saw a glint of reflection, and another of the signal threads fell limp across the opening. Harper picked up the line.
“Shall we follow it?” Harper asked.
“Yes,” Enoa said. “Let’s do it.” She raised the comm again. “Be safe. We’ll meet you out there.”
“You too!” Jaleel called. Enoa returned her comm to her pocket. Then she nodded to Harper.
The opening in the ice widened, tall enough for them to run through. It let in the pulsing glow from the Eye’s power.
Harper held the signal line toward her. Enoa took it. From it, she could feel the signal clearly. She traced it all the way to the water and the waiting submarine. She could see the craft clearly in her mind, hiding under the still water.
"I can sense it,” Enoa said.
“Then lead us again,” Harper said.
Together, they ran out through the ice.
* * *
Operative Divenoll gripped his harness and tried to find his own meditation. There was nothing to be done but wait and be ready for bloodshed when the time came.
Blood would be better than the shuttle Paramount Herald’s cramped hold, crammed in a crash seat bolted to the wall. Divenoll was squished between Operative Larks and one of Sir Valdemar’s students. They both stank of sweat. The room cooked from the overworking drives and the entropy of the Shaping that fought against the island’s will. Everything also stank with a rubbery odor carried by the cold weather liners they all wore.
Valdemar’s student bobbed his head, forward and back, side to side. The Valdemar class helmets had bizarre visors that wrapped 360 degrees around the wearer’s head. The bobbing motion gave the helmet the look of a spinning top. And it squeaked as it moved.
The apprentice drew a canister from his belt and opened it. The contents stank too, a sickly-sweet scent that burned the back of Divenoll’s throat. The apprentice dipped a metal rod into the canister and pulled it back, coated in a blue jelly that glinted in the light. Then the apprentice placed a hand on the top of his helmet and twisted it free, counterclockwise.
The student was a young man, a recruit, a boy who’d maybe still be in school in an earlier time in the world. He began to apply the canister’s contents to the rim around the neck piece of the helmet, spreading the lubricant and its smell.
“You’ll be quick about that if you want to see the battle.” Divenoll spoke under his breath.
“Master Valemar said—” The apprentice began.
“And look what good it did him.” Divenoll interrupted. “Be quick.”
Rule the mind. Divenoll left the boy to his task. He looked for his own power, from metal to fire, from the known to the earliest unknown of mankind’s history.
He focused on his new weapon, prepared only the week before. It was a special-order, long-burn tar, that would cling to steel, protect it and still burn hot. When chromium gave way to fire, Divenoll would have his own flaming sword. It wasn’t the great, contained fire of the covenant or the trapped energy of Ramon’s students or even the Hierarchia’s Antares light swords. But it was a start.
Divenoll held to that focus, his own fire, his trial to come. It was not his task to focus on the tug of war between the shuttle and the island. So he didn’t. He prepared, ready for the shuttle’s landing and the battle.
He heard his name before the shuttle landed. He heard it while the ship was still wavering over the cathedral, struggling in the air.
“Operative Divenoll to command room.” A voice spoke through his helmet comm. “Divenoll to command room.” He accepted the order and released his harness. He stood. The room swayed around him, as the inertial dampeners struggled under the attack from the island.
Divenoll found his footing. He wove his way through the circular room, around the assorted apprentices and operatives. Outside, the interior lift raised him to the observation chamber.
Baron Helmont stood in full armor – white, gold, and purple, helmet in his hands. The five knights stood with him. Lezander’s students were there too, and Ramon’s and a plain collection of Shapers whose white armor did not show any alterations.
Outside, the cathedral could be seen. There was a vertical piece of clear ice sticking out of the roof. Otherwise, it all looked as Divenoll had imagined it.
It was a work of art and old magic. There was no visible sign of the power exerted against the shuttle, the dropship, and the drones. They were all simply stuck, fighting the invisible.
“Good, Divenoll.” Helmont was looking out the window and did not turn to face him. His hands were both clenched as if already fighting the power from the church. Was he already fighting? “It appears this barrier does not extend to all things. A group from the local defense force has just passed through the courtyard and into the church. This is promising.”
“How so, my lord?” One of Lezander’s students asked.
“If they can be let through,” Helmont explained. “We will use force to pierce the same defense. All of you were summoned for the useful range of your capabilities. We will join together, and I will bring us to the ground.”
The baron placed his helmet on his head before he finally turned back to them. “Once on the ground,” Helmont said. “We will bring down the cathedral doors and win our first foothold on this island.”
* * *
Orson climbed to the top of the nearest hill. It stood across the canal from the central island and rose high enough to offer a slight view over the cathedral’s courtyard wall.
A stone outcropping crowned the hill. Orson stood with his back to it, shielded from that direction. None of the drones attacked him. They clustered near the Aesir and the two mail carriers – and in a massing storm above the church.
Orson missed his HUD and its constant data and warnings. It might’ve let him know the storm of Dactyl’s would open fire before they did.
All the gathered dozens fired on the church, shooting down from above. Heat and light burned at the ice building. Heat and light stopped in the air, joining the struggle with the invisible barrier.
Through the glare of the trapped energy fire, Orson watched a platform descend from the baron’s shuttle. It was packed with figures. He couldn’t see them with the distance or through the distorted light of the energy, but he didn’t need to. The platform was haloed in a violet light of its own – the ignition from Helmont’s rapier.
The platform wavered in the air, battling the church defenses. It slowly descended toward the courtyard.
Orson drew the lantern and dialed it open. He sent white fire across the canal. It was a concentrated stream that could obliterate the limited shielding on a repulsor pad and cook anyone and everyone aboard it. It was fire enough even to struggle with the Covenant Ignition – maybe enough to beat the rapier’s power and end the battle.
The stream of fire broke against the barrier around the church. It scattered across the unseen force in the air. Some dissipated along the barrier. Some shot downward and melted a streak along the side of the courtyard wall. The rest flew skyward toward the ceiling. More chunks of thick, white ice dropped like boulders onto the central island and splashed into the canals around it.
Orson shut the lantern. The repulsor platform descended out of range and out of sight.
“Notable reflexes as always, Mister Gregory.” Baron Helmont’s voice boomed from the courtyard. “It’s a true shame your new friends are not so adept at the power they’re wielding. But be glad for that. You can enjoy what time remains for you. It won’t be long now. All will surrender or die before this brief polar night comes to an end.”
Orson considered yelling his own response, but what was worth saying? Nothing, not until he got inside and could join the battle.
The cathedral courtyard erupted in gunfire. There were shouts, but they were short and silenced. Green lights and red flashes glowed from the courtyard. They were joined by a violet blast that made the entire cathedral glow purple.
Orson opened his comm. “Aesir, Helmont and his buddies just landed in the courtyard. We wanna hurry up with those drones.”
“Aye-aye!” Jaleel shouted.
Orson’s earpieces beeped in both ears. Dozens of the Dactyl’s swerved away from their crowd over the church.
Orson ran away from the sounds and lights of the battle. He circled the outcropping just as the drones blasted its other side. He heard the rock exploding behind him and felt the heat of the attacks even through the stone.
He slid from the hilltop and let gravity pull him to the grass on the next level down the terraced mound. His coat’s armor dispersed the force of his fall. He drew his sword and got a better hold on the lantern.
When the drones rounded the hill, Orson was ready.
* * *
Enoa exited the ice right on top of a hovering tank. It floated, rumbling close to the outer ice wall and almost blocked her path to the beach. The tank was flat across the top, with three cannons that spun above the chassis. It steamed from its repulsors below, filling the air with heat and a gray haze. Enoa saw another two tanks, these on treads, moving away from her around the island’s far side.
One of the hovering tank’s cannons turned toward her. Enoa reacted, dropping the signal thread. She lashed out with her staff and struck the cannon’s barrel. It warped at the end and bent away from her. She fell back against the ice wall.
The bent cannon glowed red and smoked. With a boom, the tank fell to the sand but only on that side. It’s right repulsor had shut off. The tank drove itself into the sand and spun in a wide circle until it slammed into the wall.
One of the cannons was still moving, as if trying to angle itself enough to get a fix on Enoa, but with a flash of green, Harper’s dagger buried itself in the weapon. Then the tank issued a last puff of steam from its raised bottom and did not move again.
“I understand why Master Sucora’s Anemos was held in such high regard.” Harper stepped fully from the ice and steered Enoa beside the tank. The dagger flew from the cannon and back to Harper’s right hand. She still followed the thread with her left. “I know next to nothing about these sorts of machines, but we’ll take our cover here until you can do your work with the submarine.”
“Hurry!” The call came clear from Harper’s belt. “They’ve broken the outer doors! They’re in the cathedral! There’s fighting inside.”
“Leave this place, Child!” Sir Merrill shouted. “If you all leave, I can draw him to me. I can draw them all to me. This is my burden to bear alone!”
“Submarine.” Harper took a sharp breath. “More of their machines are coming back toward us, Enoa Cloud. Focus on the submarine.”
“We are dealing with the drones.” Harper added, into the Talking Stone. “Then I will return. Hold fast, Taric. Hold fast, everyone. We will not be long.”
Only months of training – no, a life of training – let Enoa silence her mind. She turned away from the cries from the stone, the sound of approaching treads, the rumble from hover tanks, the breaking ice noise that meant the walking mechs were near. She turned away from the sounds of the ice wall opening and then explosions down the beach from the artillery.
She reached out and touched the thread, just as she reached out with her mind and found the hidden submarine. It was still clear in her sight, even with the horror and danger everywhere.
It was clear too how to reach the sub. She could feel the weight of the unmoving ocean all around it. She could feel the pressure exerted on the sub and the pressure the sub used to stay submerged.
It would take an act of immense transmutation to shift pressure and sea, water and air, to force the submarine from the water.
Enoa had spent every day for the last season honing a lifetime of strength. She’d spent every day for the last season learning transmutation, turning it from unreachable magic to a skill that was hers.
The still water bubbled and frothed. Enoa imagined shouts and klaxons aboard the submarine. She pictured it all so clearly she swore she could sense the panic of the crew aboard.
But if the crew of the sub used any means of technology to try and challenge her, she didn’t notice. And if the Shaping power that held the ocean unmoving tried to challenge her, she didn’t notice that either.
Enoa rose the submarine from the still water. It passed through the cooking, shifting ocean and emerged into plain view. She could feel the many threads spreading from the vehicle, the source of half the signal and half the drones.
Then there were sounds Enoa could not ignore. Even her subconscious knew the sound of approaching Dactyls.
“Let us hope it can return in time.” Harper breathed deep and stood. She threw her dagger across the sand and sea.
It cut across the body of the sub. It burned a red streak around the hull and severed every signal thread. The sub remained on top of the water, its bow red-hot and melted.
Enoa looked toward the approaching humming. She saw a cloud of Dactyl’s high over the top of Knightschurch.
She saw them fall from the sky and tumble out of sight onto the top of the ice. Only the mechs and tanks remained.
And they were close. How had Enoa ignored their approach? Only the body of the crashed hover tank and whatever confusion she’d caused with the submarine protected them. Could the island’s artillery keep them away?
When Harper stood again to call her dagger back from the unmoving hulk of the submarine, a solid cannonball nearly took off her head. She dropped again with her weapon back in her hand, and the projectile flew until it exploded further down the ice wall, peppering the sand with white.
“Halfway, Taric.” Harper spoke to the Talking Stone as if she hadn’t noticed the attack. “How shall we get there? Circle the beach with all the machines? Or return inside with the baron’s force who will know what we have done?”
The Aesir answered for them.
The ice wall unzipped wide and let the ship through, firing all guns along the beach. Enoa heard an explosion, out of sight around the hover tank. The mail carrying ships followed after it. They trained their weapons on the submarine until only flames and smoke could be seen of it. It would send out no more of the threads.
“The sanctuary doors have held against all attack,” Taric said from the stone. “Jendring has a team inside. They have blocked the stairs, but the enemy is fighting to us. He is here, their baron. He is—”
“I will be with you soon, Taric,” Harper promised. “We are hurrying. The Aesir is with us. We will destroy the second submarine.”
The Aesir hovered above the sand. The side door slid aside. Kol stood in the opening, but Jim jumped out as Enoa and Harper stood.
“Sneaky neighbor!” Jim screamed. “No, no sneaky neighbor!” He ran around both young women to the side of the beached tank. The tank’s final turret hung open. A Rifle Trooper’s head and arm reached slowly through it. He held a blaster.
Jim gripped the man’s weapon hand and pulled him from the tank, yelling. He drove him to the sand, pried the blaster from his fingers, and fired the weapon back on the trooper.
“You have to pay attention.” Jim laid his hand on Enoa’s shoulder. “These are sneaky neighbors.” He hefted the blaster. “I am keeping his ray gun.”
“Jim!” Jaleel shouted. “You saved Enoa! If it weren’t for her move with the sub, you’d be in running for MVP.”
“I am helping save our vacation!” Jim waited until Enoa and Harper clambered back inside the ship. Then he joined them.
“Thank you.” Harper returned her Talking Stone to her belt. “We have had no dealings with automatons in our history. I am glad you stand with us.” Jim beamed his too-wide smile.
“Where now?” Jaleel asked.
“Only half of the force of drones was disabled,” Dr. Stan said. “Phantom Menaced.” She chuckled. “The second group needs all our attention.”
Before Jaleel could pull the ship away from the sand, the proximity alarm wailed again. Far off, Enoa heard the shriek of Saw-wings.
When she reached out with her mind, she felt them too. There were ships with living pilots flying down at them. They could only be destroyed directly, fought one-on-one.
The Hierarchia’s birds of prey flew between them and the last remaining submarine.