Operative Divenoll watched the warped remains of the cathedral’s outer walls. They had the look of melted ice cream. The building’s former crenellations and buttresses flowed together, misshapen. Only the windows were still solid. Some power had protected them. They danced with light. Their depictions of knights and warriors seemed to move.
Part of the Lezander class of Shapers waited outside with Divenoll. They gathered in the courtyard, amid the ice shards and the few bodies of Liberty Corps troops who’d fallen to bullets from the church’s defenders.
Divenoll’s helmet comm chimed. Incoming message, text only.
WARNING - Westward Control of Dactyl Force Depowering. Clearing Courtyard is advised.
Even as he read, the half-ignored glare of red drone blasts began to fade. And Divenoll felt a sudden, slight force on his chest and neck, like the sea winds that had rushed past them the day before.
Divenoll ran between the shards of ice. The cathedral steps waited only feet ahead. Once he reached the first step, he remembered himself and the apprentices who stood watch with him.
“Run!” He yelled. “Drones failing!” He heard footfalls behind him, but didn’t know whether they’d run before his warning. Divenoll did not look back until he heard the screams.
One of the apprentices had collapsed where he stood. He lay on his side and retched, likely choking up his lunch inside his helmet. One of the drones crashed near him and showered the man in shrapnel.
Divenoll reached the top of the stairs and watched for motion from the fallen apprentice, but his own legs gave out. What felt like a tornado bowled him halfway down the steps.
The cathedral’s defenses had taken hold of him. The attack was deeper than the invisible barrier. He felt like something was reaching inside him, using a power of the body like Geber’s. Divenoll almost threw up too. Bile burned the back of his throat, and he clamped his teeth together and his jaw shut.
The power of the church that the drones had occupied now had room to focus on him.
The apprentices fell to the stairs around him. They gripped the ice beneath them, their heavy gauntlets anchoring them in place.
Two island guards rushed from hiding near the doorway. They fired their rifles as they ran. A bullet hit one of the apprentices in the vizor. Another apprentice took a bayonet to the neck as he struggled to stand.
Divenoll fought the power on his own body. He had not travelled across the world or studied the lost arts all his life to be killed by a sick stomach. He controlled his breathing, his focus. Rule the mind! Command niccolum and chromium!
Red fire formed in the air at Divenoll’s fists. When the guards came for him, they burned. He sent a gout like a flamethrower that caught their clothes and hair. Both turned away screaming, the fire spreading. Divenoll did not let up. He sent more fire and howled until one of Lezander’s students put the duo out of their misery with green blasts to their backs.
Divenoll was empowered by the fighting, as if he’d burned away some of the island’s own power. He stood again and led the way up to the church. The surviving apprentices rose and followed him into a tall entryway, filled with glowing ice like the outer windows. The gale and pressure subsided at the threshold. Divenoll breathed and sagged against the entryway wall.
The cathedral’s sanctuary doors waited ahead. Windows in the doors glowed in the likeness of a man holding an immense green sword. Sir Vergil ran his bare hands along the shining image. His students surrounded him, their swords drawn. Most of the entryway waited empty. Fighting and gunfire sounded from the spiral stairs that curved away from the entry hall and out of sight.
“One of our groups of drones was disabled,” Divenoll explained his labored breathing. “Their guards still have places to hide. They could be anywhere.” One of Vergil’s swordsmen nodded in response.
“Fine work, Operative Divenoll.” Baron Helmont appeared at the bottom of the stairs, Sir Geber and his pupils just behind. “Your quick thinking was not overlooked. You did well.” He joined Vergil at the door. Geber ran toward Divenoll, while his pupils saw to the Lezander apprentices.
“You were caught in the attack?” Sir Geber held a mace with a head that was barbed everywhere, like the spiked body of some sea urchin.
“Yes.” Divenoll waited while Geber touched his free hand to his neck and arms. “One of the signal sources was destroyed.”
“We don’t know that yet,” Geber said. “Comms are delayed in here. It could be they’ve found some way to interfere with Tolem’s Shaping, in the signal cables.”
“Whatever they’ve done,” Divenoll said. “They will attempt the same with the other source.” He felt brief numbness, where Geber touched him, but his full senses returned stronger, with no feeling of nausea.
Divenoll’s head cleared, and Sir Geber stepped away. Divenoll felt his power again, the fire that had burned his way to the church. Surely it could also melt the glowing doors and bring them inside.
“There are no true knights here.” Helmont’s voice was magnified and it returned in overlapping echoes around the room. “You leave your students to butchery by mine, sir knight. It’s a shame. I trained my forces for years to stand against the might of the old houses, yet yours attack with obsolete rifles and craven guerilla tactics. The only worthy fight is from the island itself. Pitiful.”
“I took enough lives in my youth.” A soft voice answered. It was the one that had spoken from between ice pillars when they’d arrived – Sir Merrill Lucas. “I’ve destroyed enough for generations. My students should have left this place to you and me, my lord. My ancestors’ secrets will not fall into your hands. I will destroy them all, if I must.”
An explosion sounded above them. Divenoll saw a flash of green light so powerful that it glowed through the white-ice ceiling.
“Here is the true pity,” Sir Merrill added. “I taught only peace, but my students found skill in bloodshed all the same. How many of your own force have already fallen? How many families were sundered forevermore in this life, all for your vanity. I remember the heir’s fire, Baron Melledge. I remember how it burns. I feel its hunger even now, but my days of casting lives away to sate it are long gone.”
“Are they?” Helmont chuckled. “I count easily one hundred dead among your citizenry. I feel the lights of their lives extinguished. You can’t hide them from me.”
“They choose to fight,” Sir Merrill said. “This is not my wish. I would have them fly. I would have the seas rise and claim us both, but all my kin and friends survive. I have no doubt my talent for fighting is lessened, but my knowledge of the universe has grown a thousandfold.”
“You speak like a true failure.” Helmont pressed his hands to the door, where the likeness of the knight grasped his great sword. “Rather than fight me, you allow your citizens to die. You would sabotage your lands rather than allow them to fall into the ownership of a more worthy master.”
“I know the progression of these powers,” Sir Merrill said. “None but you have any hope of overwhelming my students while they blend their skills with their home. And even the blended power of this island cannot overwhelm the eldritch living-light you’ve brought with you. But even the light cannot stop me from destroying this place. I am worthy enough to end this sanctuary. The secrets bear my name now, my lord, and that is a power that you can never know.”
The ice at the door began to groan, and the sound spread to all the walls of the entryway, as if the cavernous ceiling might collapse. Helmont yelled. He sounded pained at first, but the sound changed, deepened, until it was strong as a battle cry.
The image on the ice doors faded, no more gleaming green sword or shining armor or piercing blue eyes peering through the knight’s helm. Then the colored ice shattered. The ancient image broke and fell, in pieces, to the floor beyond.
The sanctuary doors swung open.
Sir Merrill waited inside. He sat cross-legged in the air and wore only light armor over his dark tunic and pants. An immense, green sword floated to his right, an ornate box to his left.
“You should have met me on the battlefield, sir knight.” Helmont returned his gauntlets and drew his rapier. “We should have fought as men. What will you do now? Will you burn this island and kill your people? I will force you into bloodshed for your cowardice. Or I will force you to surrender.”
“I can obliterate the key Mistress Gerwold left to me,” Sir Merrill said. “I can ensure that all your suffering was for nothing.”
There came a roar from above and screams loud enough to be heard even through feet of ice. The walls of the church vibrated and let out a high-pitched note until everything went still.
Helmont yelled again and raised his sword. With a flick of his wrist, an arc of purple fire left the edge of the blade and flew the full length of the sanctuary.
Violet met emerald flame in a blast that left the nearest two pews melting and wet from the heat. When the fire cleared, Sir Merrill wore a pained expression, but he had not moved. He was still seated in the air.
Helmont spoke again, but only through the helmet comm. “Sir Vergil – watch this place with your pupils. Sir Geber and your students, I want you here to probe the knight’s defense. You know what to do.”
Helmont backed out of the sanctuary. “Lezander class, Divenoll, all third mystery to me! The students are responding to our breach.” Then he let his voice project through the sanctuary. “We’ll talk again once I've met your students.”
Then Helmont led them across the entryway and up one of the tight, curving stairs. The way was packed with Liberty Corps Shapers. Some carted supplies, exposed batteries and iron ingots. Others were clustered around fallen or wounded. The rest crowded near the top of the stairs. The other knights gathered with their naked blades behind a haze of Sir Tolem’s moving metal shards. The landing was barred ahead by a pile of ice where the walls and ceiling really had caved in.
Beyond that were towering shields that glowed green. The metal danced with letters like those on Sir Vergil’s sword.
“I rescind my offer of surrender,” Helmont said. “You are unworthy to stand among the Liberty Corps. Death will be your only fate.”
The baron switched again to the helmet comm. “I’ll ask for your fire shortly, Divenoll. All projectile techniques, prepare.”
There was a renewed volley of bullets from between the gilded shields, but the swarming metal and the rapier’s violet light absorbed it all.
Helmont knelt and pressed his bare hand to the floor. The ice groaned all around them, as the door and entryway had groaned. Helmont shouted again, and this time his shout became laughter.
The walkway ahead buckled. The ice shifted and reshaped, as if moved by an earthquake. Most of the defenders fell over backward with their shields. Their position was broken.
Only a handful stood firm. These raised their weapons and opened fire again, more bullets to meet Tolem’s defense.
“Now.” Helmont rose back to his feet. “Open fire. Burn them. It is time to end this struggle.”
* * *
Enoa returned to her seat on the couch. She, Harper, and Jim all belted into place, before the ship shot skyward again. The Saw-wings shrieked closer.
“Enoa,” Jaleel said. “Do you want to get started on the next sub?”
“Sure,” she said. “I can feel it.”
“Where do you intend to take us, Jaleel?” Max asked. “The standard Saw-wing fighter will be much faster than this ship, even if you only power the propulsion and turn all of us into jelly.”
“How do you want to get there?” Jaleel asked. “Really, if we fly around...”
The boomerang shapes of Saw-wings shot out over the island, above them. They twisted in the air and flew straight down, red light lancing from their bellies.
Jaleel yelled and sent the ship arcing tight around the island’s ice wall. Max returned fire. The Tri-cannon scattered blasts all through the sky. Most shot wide. The rest flashed white at the edges of the gathered fighters.
“How big is their shields’ coverage?” Jaleel asked. “That one shot was way past the last ship!” The fighters followed them, flying in unison. The full squadron swerved as one.
“They’ve phalanxed their shields, essentially combined them,” Dr. Stan explained. Max continued his attack, futilely striking the massed energy fields.
“Harper,” Jaleel said. “Can you talk to somebody inside and let us back in?”
“There is no time!” Harper snapped. “Everyone will die unless we disable the Dactyls. I cannot ask more of them. I think they’ve reached my uncle! There is fighting everywhere.”
“Will help!” Taric’s rough cry came from Harper’s side. Noise thundered through the ice, like it had when the outer roof was broken by the Liberty Corps.
The whole wall beside them exploded outward. There was nowhere to go but down. But the ice solidified again, forming a solid roof above the ship. The overhang glowed red from the Saw-wings' energy fire, but it held firm.
Their protections did not last. Two Saw-wings flipped beneath the new overhang, their cannons blazing crimson. This time the Incursion Cannons met them. With only two, their interlocking shields were not so strong. Both fighters tore apart in burning pieces.
“I have an idea.” Jaleel sent them diving again toward the sand. Enoa fell against her restraints, and the ship swooped beneath the falling debris. Burning pieces sizzled against their own shield.
“Harper, please ask Taric to make another one of those,” Jaleel continued. “We need the shelves all the way around to the submarine. And make them no more than six meters apart. We'll fit between, but it’ll break up the Saw-wings' shields. We’ll follow the opening all the way around the island.”
“That will work unless the enemy pilots attack from the outside,” Max said.
“The outer wall can’t simply—” Harper began.
“Hurry!” Taric called.
The ice rumbled again, and the earth shook beneath them too. Even the sea began to churn with the motion.
“Enoa,” Jaleel said. “Get that submarine, please. Harper, see if you can find those mailmen and have them get some of the fighters when they come after us.” He flew the ship along the beach, where three mechs had fallen from the ice wall. They flailed their long legs futilely against the sand.
The outer ice was ringed with two shelves. Jaleel flew the Aesir between them, and the Saw-wings followed. All rocketed toward the opposite side of the island.
Enoa tore her thoughts away from the chase. It was a simple thing to find the submarine after she’d forced the other one from the ocean, but it demanded her full attention and all her skill.
She shifted the water around the last sub, wielded her power and knowledge of transmutation as the machinery and Shaping of the Liberty Corps fought and failed to stop her, just like they’d fought and failed the first time.
Something exploded against the Aesir’s shield, and Enoa nearly lost her focused hold on the submarine. There were yells, and she tried to ignore them.
“Drones from outside!” Max shouted. “They know your plan, Jaleel!”
There were more explosions, and the unshielded drones took fire from below. The message carriers swerved up from beneath them.
“Are you ready, Enoa?” Jaleel asked. “Once those fighters regroup, they’ll do their shield thing again, and I don't know how long the mailmen can hold everything back.”
Enoa was ready. She held the sub and made it rise.
There was a gathering of tanks on the sand nearby. They floated above the ground and gripped it with heavy treads. A group of mechs was running to join them. They could fire on the Aesir when it appeared, but they could not help the sub hide beneath the water. Enoa and Anemos had caught the craft, and it would not escape.
“Ready!” Enoa confirmed.
Jaleel sent them flying out from the ice. The tanks and mechs fired up at them, but they were too fast. The Aesir shot from ice to sea. The Tri-cannon opened fire again.
Enoa felt the second submarine explode. The command signal vanished with it.
The rest of the drones fell to ice and sand and ocean. The Dactyl force was down.
Now, only the scattering of Saw-wings flew over the island. The rest of the exterior force remained trapped at the ground, and as the Aesir spun back toward them, Enoa saw the ice wall open. The artillery renewed their fire on the gathered mechs. Two were alight with flame and another of the hover tanks had crashed.
“Take us back!” Harper commanded. “I will give the order to open the wall for us.” She held her Talking Stone. “Hermods - we are returning.”
“We’re going in full throttle!” Jaleel yelled. “Keep the garage door open. Max, you can get ready with that missile. It has Grover’s name on it.”
“Will the shielding hold up against the new Liberty Corps beam weapon?” Dr. Stan asked.
“Eloise and her brother fought a Redhead with that weapon,” Jaleel said. “We can take ‘em. Harper, you can have the mailmen, or I guess I should call them postal carriers. Whatever - have them meet us. We’ll hit Grover’s bell from two sides. Then Taric and everybody can relax.”
The ship flew over the mechs as their return fire exploded beneath them. The Saw-wings tried to gather, but the Aesir skimmed the sand, flying from sea to open ice before the fighters could build a formation.
The Aesir shot into Knightschurch, over rampart and canal. They crossed it all in a moment, toward the cathedral where only the shuttle and dropship were floating. The ground below was littered with the broken remains of drones. All cannons fired at the bell.
The bell sent everything back in a beam that glowed both red and gold. It hit the Aesir dead-center. The windshield darkened and alarms blared from the ceiling. Enoa hadn’t even heard some of them before.
She tried to find the place in her mind where she’d formed the ignition wall of Bullet Rain, but they were all thrown sideways.
There were yells again. Kol shouted the loudest. “I can stop it, but we have to go! This isn’t working!” Enoa sensed a new shield around the ship. It was from Kol, not the Aesir. And when Enoa looked at him, he also seemed to glow blue.
The windshield was still darkened. Jaleel must have been steering with the dashboard instruments alone. Enoa sensed their movements in the air. They flew over the cathedral’s outer wall, with the bell’s energy still burning against Kol’s shield and the Aesir’s.
“Missile!” Jaleel yelled.
Kol’s shield failed just as they passed beyond the wall. The bell’s beam hit the ship with an explosion that threw them. They spun toward the ground. All the lights went out. Enoa lost her own focus and joined the screaming. Even Jim and Wesley added to the cries.
“I do not like this ride!” Jim called.
“Aiming for a canal!” Jaleel yelled. “Hang on! Ruby, is the water deep enough?”
They hit the canal with a splash that sent water raining across five blocks of the village.
* * *
The Knightschurch guards still fought with their line broken. They fought and died.
When they sent volleys from their antique rifles, Helmont didn’t even bother raising his Ignition. He knew the copper of the bullets, the lead, the antimony. So he took them, one and all, and sent them flying back.
When they rushed him, their blades could not stand against the rapier. There were no fellow knights to duel him, to make the ice halls echo with the fyrsang, the ancient power resurrected in the modern world. They fought with weapons of the unworthy, and they died unworthy. Helmont cut them down.
When the forces defending Knightschurch finally worked their own Shaping, their old sorcery – they reached out to the walls around Helmont to crush him. But Helmont had mapped the enigmatic ice, the spellbound crystals of the enchanted water. He knew its power. He’d touched it, so it would not hurt him.
Instead, Helmont closed the walls on his enemies. He reached out and pulled the ice screaming inward. There was an echo of power in the shards as they broke. The fury of dead magic could not overwhelm Baron Helmont. He cleared the hall, leaving only stragglers for his knights and the rest.
He still followed the power of the island’s will. He saw it on his map, as clearly as a lone tree standing over flat fields. Helmont’s map led him to the place where the island’s power was unleashed. The room was triple-locked, but all the locks were made from the unmelting ice.
The locks turned aside at his touch. Hidden mechanisms bent themselves aside to obey him. The door opened for Baron Helmont.
Six young Shapers gripped the edge of a raised dais. Light shone from it – the source of the nexus. There were other relics scattered throughout the room. Helmont recognized an alembic when he saw one. He knew the retort, the armillary sphere, the gnomon.
These did not win his attention for more than a moment.
“He’s here!” One of the Shapers screamed. “He’s here now! Too late!”
“Release the nexus and you will live long enough to instruct me in its use.” Helmont advanced. He heard the cautious approach of his forces behind him. Sir Tolem advanced with Lieutenant Greenley the Ledgerman, with Divenoll and Larks and assorted apprentices.
Helmont met an unseen wall. A new protective barrier formed in the middle of the room. It was an unstable thing, and it threw the tables and antique devices across the chamber in its wake.
Helmont spared no attention for the shattering antiques. He knew his sword’s fire, and he’d mapped the island’s ice. He should not overwhelm the new barrier directly. Even a full ignition could backfire on his own force, but he could fight his way through the gale, as he had outside.
The group around the dais began to shout again. Helmont felt their influence spread from to the dais and then out through the island.
He felt new lightning fork from the sky and burn through half-a-squadron of Saw-wings in a single, blast. The remaining fighters fled to the edge of the Eye’s power.
Helmont felt the seas rise. Water swallowed the black sand beach and everything on it. Waves consumed tanks and mechs, the fallen islander plane, and all the Liberty Corps troops still on foot.
The ocean swallowed it all, erased the entire landing force from Helmont’s map. He felt their shock and fear, and then felt them vanish far beneath the sea where their lights winked out.
“Clear the room!” Helmont shouted. It was a struggle just to raise his hand. He felt like many hundreds of pounds of pressure were forcing his arms to his sides.
He yelled again until he could raise his hand and the rapier. An arc of Ignition fire shot free of the blade and burned across the room. It cut through the unseen barrier and sliced the dais in two. The glow vanished, but the halves of the dais still sparked.
All six young Shapers writhed like the breaking dais had triggered seizures. Their hands still clutched the rim of the broken dais. They apparently couldn’t let go. When the last sparks burned away, they toppled to the floor one-by-one.
The barrier eased when the last Shaper fell. The weight was gone from Helmont’s body. The outside barrier also disappeared. His shuttle and the dropship descended toward the courtyard. There was no one and nothing left to fight them.
Sir Tolem took this as the sign to reenter the room. A procession of troops followed behind him. Helmont took a composing breath. He watched the Shapers who lay twitching on the floor.
“Lord Baron,” Lieutenant Greenley said. “Our mechanized—”
“I know,” Helmont said. He wasted no more time in answering questions. He hailed all his troops through his helmet comm, those who’d followed him to the island, those at sea, and those few still in the sky.
“This is Baron Helmont,” he said. “Much of our initial landing force was destroyed in a futile attack from our enemies. However, the great will of House Dommik has finally been subdued. I now turn my full attention to Sir Merrill and his key.
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“To the fleet, prepare the Eye of Balor. As soon as I secure the key, we will burn every living thing on this island. Any relics that survive the power will be ours. Anything lost will be acceptable, once we’ve gained the Dreamside Road keys. Though the other keys present will survive the Eye’s power, Sir Merrill must be bested first. I will see to him personally. Sir Jarod, ensure the Eye is ready for me when the last knight is dead.”
“Yes, my lord,” Sir Jarod answered.
Helmont sensed Sir Merrill standing alone. There were no more islander lives, obscured and unmapped, hidden in the walls. Other than the fallen Shapers, all were now gone.
Only conquering Sir Merrill remained, and then the Eye’s cleansing, and then the quest for the Dreamside Road would be halfway complete.
“My lord,” Lieutenant Greenley said. “What of them?” He pointed to the Shapers on the floor.
“We’ll see them aboard the drop ship,” Helmont ordered. “We’ll deliver them to the Shaper influence study in the Quiet Zone. From their torment, we’ll learn a great deal more about what power rested here on this island.” He returned to the chamber door.
“And Greenley,” he added. “Send word to the Paramount Herald. I want them watching the perimeter. Kill anything that approaches. No interruptions.”
* * *
Orson crossed the island to find his crew. The Aesir had held off worse attacks than the blast from the bell, so he wouldn’t fear for the ship or its passengers, not yet. He’d seen the Aesir vanish into a canal, but the land nearby was a maze of wreckage, fallen drones and burning buildings. Half of the canal bridges were out or also burning.
All the way, he watched the bell. It floated alone. He could hear the motion of the drop ship crew in the courtyard. There was no church defense to hold them back. All those Shapers were now arrayed between him and any survivors, between him and Helmont, between him and the key.
Orson unhooked the lantern. The shuttle was powerful enough to battle the Aesir. The Jims’ carrier couldn’t have done that, even with the same weaponry. He went no closer and kept a canal between him and the floating ship. From that distance, he could see the Eagle sigil and read the name written in royal violet beneath it – Paramount Herald.
“Captain Gregory!” A low voice shouted. “We saw the Aesir crash!”Orson glanced toward the voice and saw several figures in silver armor – not Liberty Corps.
“Stay away!” he answered. “We’re gonna keep our distance from that ship.” He followed a solid bridge to carry him closer to the fallen Aesir.
He found Doug running toward him in the opposite direction, followed by a group of other defenders. As they came closer, Orson saw that their silver armor was made of many interlocking plates that softly glowed.
“Gregory!” Doug shouted again. “I saw them fall, Captain Gregory.” Doug’s voice wavered. He made fists around the hilt of his sword. “What do you hope to find?”
“The Aesir’s probably just in submarine mode,” Orson said. “I’m assuming that until I know otherwise.”
“I shouldn’t be surprised with anything of yours,” Doug said. The other guards came to a stop.
“With any luck,” Orson added. “My crew is alright and can help us plan what to do next.”
“We’ll fight and die.” Another of Doug’s group raised his sword. “And take as many of the baron’s warriors with us as we can.”
“Uh, you gave up your pacifism at a pretty convenient time,” Orson said. “Not the most convenient time, but pretty convenient.” He continued on toward the ship and the others followed after him. Their metal plates made slight clattering noises as they moved.
He raised his comm. “Wayfarer Home, this is Wayfarer One. Talk to me, Aesir.” He heard only static in reply. “Ruby, activate the if-safe code ninety-four. Surface ship, unless overridden.” He still heard nothing but the tramp of the armored group that followed him and the Liberty Corps force at the cathedral.
“I’m sorry, Gregory,” Doug answered. “We’ve all lost everything today. Let’s gather who we can, and we’ll make our last stand in harming this baron and his troopers.”
The receivers in Orson’s ears caught a distant tone – a bass sound, far away. “Wait.” He raised his hand.
“What...” One of the other defenders began to speak, but stopped at the sound of moving water.
The Aesir breached the surface of the canal. It was unshielded, so the water ran away from the hull. There was a new dark streak across the roof, and a good deal of the bumper stickers and magnets were burned away and gone.
Orson ran to the ship. When it drifted to the canal’s edge and the side door opened, he called inside. “Ruby,” he said. “Rad shield and full warning protocol from any airborne attack.”
He jumped aboard and found everyone still strapped in their seats, shocked but alive. The last of the dashboard lights were flickering from a deep blue to a paler shade, from submarine mode to standard boat mode. There were no warning lights, no alerts. “How are we?”
Jim answered first. “I did not like the last ride.” He shook his head in emphasis. “I want a calmer ride next time.”
“We’ll have to see what we can do for you, Jim,” Dr. Stan added. She turned around in her seat to look at Orson. “We are obviously all alive. Though I am unsure what more good we will do in battle against that ship without a more established plan. ‘Fly at it quickly and shoot the entire way’ did not succeed.”
“We got shot by Helmont’s shuttle!” Jaleel explained. “I’m sorry, Boss. Total fail.”
“I saw it,” Orson said. “Not your fault. That thing’s a lot trickier than I would’ve thought. How about you, Max? Are you hanging in there?”
Max glanced back toward the sitting area, where Kol sat in an armchair with his head in his hands. And Harper stared straight ahead as if fighting against shock. Enoa and Jim held her arms.
“I’m more out of practice than I knew,” Max answered slowly. “I’m afraid we cannot rely on my marksmanship. Nothing more about me is hurt than my pride. Your submarine feature saw to that.”
“It’s a fun little trick.” Orson walked between the pilot’s and copilot’s seats. He scanned the dashboard closely, checking energy levels and power distribution, shielding and armament, structural integrity and propulsion. “Prototype interstellar landing craft need their tricks. We’re looking pretty good here, unless our sensors are fried – and in that case we’re screwed regardless.”
“Harper!” Doug called from the doorway. He also jumped inside. “May I be in here?” He spun toward Orson.
“Sure,” Orson said. “We’ve got some crap to figure out so we might as well all come in. Your friends can come in too if they want. I don’t know if they’re more or less of a target in here.” After a moment, the rest of the armored group stepped aboard.
“Harper,” Doug said again. “Harper, what happened? He’s alive. I can feel him, feel all of them, but they aren’t right.”
“No one but my uncle could have held the Will of the Ancestors that long.” Harper’s response was almost whispered. “The defenses broke them.”
“You don’t know that for sure,” Enoa said. “You don’t know that.”
“I know the core nexus was damaged,” Harper said. “We’ll never stave off an attack from the Eye without it. Now we all will die in battle, if not against the baron then against his fleet.”
“Not if we catch Grover,” Orson said. “Beat his knights and take him prisoner. If we can’t stop the Eye and we can’t escape, then we have to negotiate. Right now, we’ve got nothing but the keys. We don’t know what would happen to them if they’re hit by the Eye, but the Liberty Corps doesn’t seem too worried about that. If we take Helmont—”
“How could you take him?” Doug asked. “I want a last attack too, to gather all willing fighters to give everything, rather than dying in surrender, even if that disappoints Master Lucas. But I do not believe this battle can be won. You don’t feel the baron’s mind, do you, Captain? I do. Everything he touches is his. Kill him fast, if you can. Even that may not be possible.”
“He’s never touched me,” Orson said. “I’ve got a few ideas for catching the lord baron. None of them will be very fun for him, but I'm all ears if anybody’s got a different plan.”
“Baron Helmont is all our histories come to life,” Harper said. “He wields one of the covenant swords with the skill of the old houses. He knows our spellcraft and can fight it. He has spellcraft of his own. His knights feel powerful too. He did not elevate them without good cause.
“I feel five notable powers and a handful of others that may also be knights. If they were wielding their own kindlings of the original Aether, they would not seem out of place in our memories of knighthood. Their abilities are more specialized than our own, narrower in scope, but they wield them well. Their baron, he is a giant like my uncle, like the Will of the Ancestors. He is overwhelming, like a living hurricane.” Her eyes went distant again.
“Maybe it’s better I don’t sense that.” Orson laughed. “To me he just looks like a skinny, flying, old guy.” Some of Doug’s defenders laughed with him. “Truth be told, I'm actually less worried about him or his knights than I am about the hundred or so assholes he has backing him up. How much training have your people done in that armor? I’m thinking not a lot.”
“Not a great deal,” Doug agreed. “I have trained more than most. I have an interest in the history, and even I have less than thirty days total in this armor.”
“Huh,” Orson said. “So even if you fill your suits of armor, we’ll be working with people who aren’t used to the weight and maybe aren’t even used to the swords. Can you figure out who you want with blades and who you want with ranged weapons? Do you know your people that well?”
“I do,” another of the guards said. “I do clerical lists for weapons storage.”
“Then we’ll leave you in charge of that.” Orson offered a handshake to the guard. “And what’s your name? I’m Orson.”
“I’m Poul,” the guard answered.
“Good to meet you, Poul,” Orson said. “We have a lot of work to do and not a lot of time, so we need your experience. We’ll want ranged weapons first, guns, bows. Whatever we can get. Maybe we’ll even turn some of your artillery on them.”
“Fire on the cathedral?” Doug asked. “You ask too much, Gregory.”
“I’m gonna do everything I can to protect this place,” Orson said. “That includes property. I like my stuff, but lives have to come first. That means major fighting outside the cathedral. I’m gonna use my lantern on that bell, and that could be messy. And that’s step one. I think the fire might be able to beat the shuttle, because we’ve seen fire magic overwhelm that kind of weapon before.”
“Your girlfriend?” Harper asked.
“The Keeper of the Concealment Truce,” Orson said. “Who holds the office founded by the wizard Ophion. And yes, as a matter of fact, she is my girlfriend.” He smiled broadly. “Oh, and just in case the lantern isn’t enough, we’ll want the artillery backup for that too. If we don’t get rid of that thing, we’re already done.”
“How will we move artillery on that scale?” one of the guards asked.
“Aren’t there other island nexus places?” Orson asked in return. “Not as powerful as the church situation, but strong?”
“It is possible Helmont’s attack damaged the connection across all this land,” Harper explained. “It is possible that connection is gone.”
“Let’s be optimistic for now until we find out.” Orson looked to the lantern, warm through its stone and the palm of his glove. “And when that bell’s out of the way, we’ll want the grunt-tier Shapers divided. Getting grenades lobbed at them will mess with their concentration. They’ll have a harder time with the sort of Iron Shaping they tend to use. We want to get through as many of their henchmen as we can before the real battle begins.”
“Their standard Shapers,” Kol began. He hesitated, but then spoke stronger. “That tier of warrior has well more than a month of experience. Most of them don’t have the community history of magic that you all do, but they will be training every day.”
“You know this,” Harper said. It wasn’t a question.
“We have a great marksman to lead us,” Orson added quickly. “Jaleel, can you—”
“I have a different job this time, Boss,” Jaleel interrupted. “I’m putting together the mission to destroy the Eye of Balor.” He punched the air. “If we want to win the battle or get away, we need to destroy the scary superweapon. I know how. Do you remember that machine plan that Cathy wanted me to look at, back in Outcast Country?”
“Vaguely?” Orson said. “What was it?”
“Using condensation as a weapon,” Jaleel explained. “Forming condensation all over an energy shield to make it short out. We’ll do that to the Eye’s power. Then we can either get away or – even better – take out one of their boats with your missile. The pieces of the Eye are all connected. I bet if we take out one of them, we take out all of them.”
“That may be possible,” Kol added. “Some of Enoa’s Anemos condensation formed on my shield during our fight with Sir Rowan. That wasn’t an attack, but the water could cling to the projection.”
“I almost forgot that,” Jaleel said. “We’ll skim the ocean until we’re right at the Eye’s light. I’ll need to keep using the Aesir, Boss, and I’ll want Enoa with me. Uh...” He stammered. “For the mission! I want her help for the mission.” Enoa shot him a look. “She can use her senses and her fog ability. I'll need Dr. Stan and Max too.”
“Do you want me to launch the missile?” Max asked, and he gripped the dashboard. “If I can’t be sure to hit anything with your Tri-cannon, how can I land the missile with only a single shot? I’m sorry, Jaleel. I don’t think I could do that.”
“I believe you can.” Dr. Stan squeezed his shoulder. “When you weren’t surprised, your aim was perfectly fine. It was only when we were all panicked that you had any difficulty.”
“We can’t be sure we won’t have reason to panic,” Max said.
“Then we’ll just escape!” Jaleel announced. “Dr. Stan and I can figure out what we need for the condensation vaporator weapon. Then we use it.”
“I will speak to the message carriers,” Harper said. “You may still need help with the enemy aircraft.”
“The more the merrier!” Jaleel said.
“If your crew and our air ships fight the Eye,” Doug said. “The rest of us will stand against the baron. They’re attacking Sir Merrill now.” Harper closed her eyes and nodded once in agreement.
“It’s Geber.” Kol looked ill, but he unbelted himself and sat forward in his chair. “He’s with his students, and they’re all attacking Sir Merrill at the same time.”
“Do we have anybody else in there?” Orson asked.
“No,” Harper said. “No one but my uncle. While... During the last distraction, Jendring led an attack against a group of Liberty Corps swordsmen. Several of their Shapers fell with him, but...” She struggled through a heavy pause. “It’s only us and whoever else would fight to help us.”
“Damn.” Orson thought of the power at the church walls, holding him back as the defenders advanced. Would he be one of the dead if he’d gone with them? Or would the results be different? He realized he was still holding the lantern in his free hand. He squeezed the warm stone before returning it to his back.
“I’m really sorry, for all of you,” he said. “I can’t offer any of you much more than my promise that we’ll fight for the people you lost. We’ll fight as hard as we can. How many more of those suits of armor do you have? Even with the artillery plan, a couple dozen ain’t gonna cut it, if we’ll be fighting Helmont at the end of this.”
“The collection holds over one hundred full sets of House Dommik plate armor,” Doug said. “But they’re packed away in the storage vault.”
“Can you get to this vault?” Orson asked. “And can you figure out how many people will fight and how many you can get armored? We need to coordinate between that and Poul with his weapons know-how.”
“We can’t rely on the Talking Stones anymore.” Harper pulled away from Enoa and Jim. “Thank you.” She stood and walked to join the other defenders. “They could now have Jendring’s stone.”
“Yeah, that’s what happened to our set,” Orson said. “We’ll just have to get rid of all the Liberty Corps here. Or you’ll have to make Typewriters.” Harper managed to look both puzzled and annoyed. “Nevermind. You’d better get moving on gathering anybody who’ll fight. If they’re going after Sir Merrill, we’ve only got as long as he can last. I don’t want to know what Helmont will do then.”
“Come after us.” Enoa stood too. “He’ll try to take our keys.”
“Or he’ll cook us with the Eye,” Orson said. “Depending on what that damn thing does to the Cobalt Nine.” He looked out the window, but the red glow from the Eye’s power seemed lessened. It seemed fainter and there was another light that colored the ice from above, green and pink, yellow and blue and purple. Orson walked closer.
The sky was lit with aurora. Light from above shone through the Eye’s power, so the broken ice ceiling and the tops of the walls all glowed with lights of the natural world, an energy that did not pulse with hunger and malice, a power that could beat through the evil that the Liberty Corps had cast around the island.
Orson had seen that light before, as he clung to a Hierarchia Constructor Frame, both legs dangling heavy with the unfamiliar weight of repulsor boots, before he’d learned to fly and crossed gold fire with blue.
Then he'd seen the aurora a second time, as he chased the Thunderworks Supreme Commander through the labyrinth of his own ship, in his battle against the World-breaker General and his dragon-bone swords.
If he fought Helmont, this would be his third duel under the light of aurora. He felt it then, anticipation and purpose, culmination, like there was a destiny that belonged to him, that was really his, that was given, not stolen. A legend that he carried.
“I like the aurora,” Orson said. “It’s been pushing six years since I've seen one.”
“It’s rare for this season,” Doug said. “Aurora on this short night. Only another night or two before we go months without a sunset.”
“Good luck?” Orson let himself smile, grim but hopeful.
“I’ll take any light that isn’t from that Eye,” Doug said. He turned toward the other armored guards. “I’ll go to the wall and gather any stragglers. You can begin at the armory and on the radio. Let’s see if we can leave the forgemaster’s hall empty.”
“You have one more here,” Kol said. He sounded serious and confident, the nearest he’d sounded to the proud young captain since they’d saved him from the Pinnacle. Even he seemed suprised by it, and when he spoke again, he was hesitant. “If you’ll have me. I’m new to my abilities, but they’ve taken Helmont’s forces by surprise before. And I know the Liberty Corps. I was one of them. It will add insult to injury, for them to see me wearing their enemy’s colors.”
Doug didn’t answer. He watched Kol.
“Do it,” Harper said. “He’s proven himself. I believe he’s earnest.” She looked to Enoa.
“Yes,” Enoa added. “I think so too. I know so.”
“I’m not worried whether he’s earnest,” Doug said. “I’m troubled ever clothing an outsider in the old lord’s livery, dressing him in our full plate. It’s never been done that I know of. This was worn by our knights.”
“Then we’re already breaking with the old belief.” Harper laughed bitterly. “There are no knights here. Only us.”
“I don’t like this either.” Max spoke up. He wrenched himself around in the copilot’s seat to look back at his brother. “Kol, your Shaping can’t stand against these knights.”
“I don’t know,” Orson said. “He just held up against that bell. The Liberty Corps sensed something in Kol when they made him captain. Now he can show them.”
“Geber is here,” Max added quickly, almost panicked. “How hard did we fight to get you away from him?”
“I can resist his iron binding, Max,” Kol said, his voice deeper again. Some rebuilt version of the young man was taking shape. “Geber doesn’t know that. I want to face him. I want to stop him and his students from using their power on the old knight and his people. Geber doesn’t need to touch to use his Shaping. The islanders need someone who can resist him. Besides, he has Duncan’s watch.”
“Do you think he brought the watch all the way here?” Max asked.
“I do,” Kol said. “You don’t know him like I do. If he doesn’t have it, he’ll at least know what became of Duncan. I will defend the attack against the knights, and I will learn what became of our friend.”
“Is the armory what you call the gift shop?” Jim asked. He still held his stolen blaster in one hand. “If I am going to fight the neighbors for their breaking and entering, I want a souvenir first.”
Doug paused and stared at the android. Harper nodded.
“I trust James, as well,” she said. “He feels like his own individual. He has a unique view of the world, but he’s done nothing to make me doubt his heart.”
“You can come with me, Jim,” Kol said. “We’ll see if they have anything in our size.” He walked to the front of the cabin and embraced his brother. If they spoke, Orson could not hear them.
“Look after him,” Kol said to Dr. Stan as he passed. “Do a better job protecting him than I have.”
“You’ve done a fine job, Kol,” Dr. Stan replied. “We’re all here where we’re needed, when we’re needed most. I don’t share my mother’s religion. I left it behind when I came to America, but she would have believed that.”
“I hope this is the truth.” Doug looked over his new group, the guards already in armor, Harper and her sheathed dagger, and then Kol and Jim. “We’d best be going. We can’t delay while our master faces those monsters alone.”
He jumped from the ship to the walkway outside. The aurora-light reflected off of his armor. It seemed to reveal writing across the metal, but then he moved and the effect was gone. The others followed after him. Orson watched them, the islanders, Kol, and Jim, until they were safely away, and he knew the bell wouldn’t attack.
“Oh no, Wesley!” Jaleel said. He ran through the cabin to his bunk. His door slid open, and Wesley greeted him with a stream of angry chatter. “I’m sorry, buddy! Oh wow, I think he hooked himself into place with his spikes. He’s got built-in anchors.” Enoa joined him.
“I’m sorry, Sweetie,” she said. “I’ll try to get him calmed down while you work with Dr. Stan. You don’t need my Shaping right away. Oh, I hate taking him into a battle. We all have to survive, so he can be safe with us and be happy when all of it is over.”
They both looked so, so young. Orson remembered his own fear at that age. He’d been too young really, and so were they.
“Yeah,” Jaleel agreed. “We’ll have to figure out where y’know, he’ll live, once we find the Dreamside Road. We'll have to be close to each other, so we can give a steady homelife to our buddy.” He paused, struggling with something, and Orson filled the silence.
“There’s something I want both of you to do.” He shot a glance to the front of the cabin where Max and Dr. Stan talked in hushed tones. “If something happens to me, follow the ship’s map to the Inn at the Evergreen Forest. My place in the concealment protections is yours, for both of you.” They looked surprised. Even Enoa seemed afraid, genuine fear like he hadn’t seen from her since she’d found her power.
“If anyone bucks at having two fill one vacancy,” Orson went on. “Remind them of all I did, the Opal, the Lockshaws, Calder, and all the rest. Sirona can help you. And...” He thought of Sirona too, how many years he’d gone without her, having her again only for days, for only two nights.
“There’s a package in my nightstand,” Orson said. “Third drawer down. It belongs to her. It always belonged to her. If I don’t come back, one of you give it to her. Tell her that – tell her it was always hers. And that I love her. That a part of me always did, even when she still hated me. If there’s a part of me left anywhere, I always will.”
“You can’t...” Jaleel started. “No! You can’t die. Helmont doesn’t have anything of yours he’s touched. You’ve beat so many people.” Enoa looked fearful too. Orson set aside his lantern and sheathed sword.
He pulled both his young crewmembers into a hug. They returned the gesture, hugging him and each other. Orson hadn’t realized how much he’d come to rely on them, all in so short a time.
“I couldn’t imagine having another crew on this ship.” He stepped back, but they still held onto each other. “I have a bad cynical streak.”
“Really?” Jaleel asked in mock surprise. “I didn’t notice!”
“I’m trying to be sincere here,” Orson said. “That’s not an easy thing for me.”
“He’s opening up to us, Jaleel,” Enoa said. “We have to be accepting, or he’ll run away like a baby deer.” Orson raised an eyebrow at her.
“Anyway,” he said. “I have a habit of looking at danger and bad stuff as a trend that will repeat itself. But I see good things as flukes. I would’ve been a real jerk at somebody who suggested I make a new crew. I never would’ve done it, not on purpose. I needed you to find me, and I’m really lucky that you did.”
“Wait,” Jaleel said. “You’re not having some kind of weird premonition, are you? That’s not a thing, right? Seeing your own death or something crazy?”
“Not at all.” Orson looked back toward the dancing aurora light. “Actually, I feel the opposite. I think we’re all going to win. We carry legend today.”
“You feel your weird mojo?” Enoa had a trace of her usual dry humor in her voice.
“I do,” he said. Looking back out of the ship, he caught another hint of a reflection, light across metal.
One of the guards was still outside on the walkway. He stood as if frozen in place, helmet in his hands. He started when he found Orson looking at him. He was young and fair-haired. He looked too small for the armor and much too young for the sword he wore at his hip.
“Are you okay?” Orson asked.
“Do you...” The young man began. “Do you really believe that we have a chance? Doug wanted us to fight and to die fighting and that’s... I don’t want to believe him, but how can we stand against knights? How is that possible?”
“I’ve fought their knights before and beaten them,” Orson said. “Three of them, but not at the same time. My crew fought another knight and beat him. We’re just tricky adventurers – wayfarers. Somebody else has to make you a knight, and your Sir Merrill wasn’t doing that. But anybody can choose to stand up. Do you want to stand against them? It’s okay to be scared. If you don’t know how to fight, there’s plenty to do. We’ll find something for you. Think fast.”
The bell still floated over the church courtyard, but even the ship reflected the light from the aurora.
“None of us were trained that way,” the young guard said. “To fight real warriors.”
“That might be good,” Orson said. “Because those real warriors trained a whole lot to fight you. Now, you get to do something unexpected. Surprise is the best weapon of all. That’s what’s gonna save your island, if anything can. We learned from the old way, but we need to do something new to win. That’s what being a wayfarer is.
"If I’m right, and I think I am,” Orson continued. “That’s always what was going to beat their baron, the untested new way against the powerful empire of the old world.” He enjoyed a last moment of the growing light. The power from the Eye of Balor couldn’t be seen at all. Everything danced green and golden. “The big final battle against Helmont was always going to be wayfarers versus knights.”
* * *
Helmont returned down what remained of the broken spiral stair. He floated himself over shattered ice and many bodies. The forms of Sir Merrill’s limp pupils also floated, ahead of him. He held them, mapped. Their minds were alive, but distant. They weren’t dulled. This wasn’t brain death. It was more like a vacancy, something Helmont had not seen before.
“Pull all remaining landers and all fighters back through the Balor projection field,” he ordered through his comm. “Don’t recall them fully. We may need their assistance again, but keep them out of the line of fire. As soon as the key is retrieved, we will return to the ships, and you may commence your attack.”
“We will await your further command, my lord,” Sir Jarod answered. “We and the science team are ready with the Eye.”
“Good.” Helmont met a group of support crew at the bottom of the stairs. They gathered with stretchers for the islander students. When all were carried away, out the church doors and toward the drop ship, then Helmont turned back to the last knight.
There was a new mess of bodies outside the sanctuary doors. The shape of a lone island guard lay between a squad of Sir Vergil’s students. Their great swords lay separate, placed along the nearest wall. So many of Vergil’s class had perished to whatever blast the guard had delivered, heirs to Helmont’s own knowledge of the Twelfth Form wasted.
No matter – they'd faced their trial and failed. There would be time to renew the teaching. They had won their battle against the Covenant Remnant. There were always going to be casualties.
“Look at the wasted lives, sir knight.” Helmont commanded the broken sanctuary doors to open. They swung wide without even a touch from his hand. “What more we could have achieved if we’d worked together. By law, we were ordered to find common cause. But you’re a traitor to the International Hierarchia that bound us. You abandoned your loyalty and your fealty.”
“I keep my honor.” Sir Merrill had less poise in this answer. Geber and his pupils sapped at his will. In Helmont’s mind, he watched Geber’s class biting at the last knight, small fish chewing at the body of an ailing whale. “It was the Hierarchia that failed. They went astray. I kept to the path.”
“How do you want to die, sir knight?” Helmont walked forward, far enough that he now stood between the back row of pews. He scanned the walls and hoped that the light of the windows and the old power in the structure would survive the Eye. So much could be learned from those strange histories, but the Dreamside Road came first – always.
Lieutenant Greenley and a handful of Shapers and knights entered the room behind him, Vergil, Tolem, and some of the operatives. Divenoll came to stand directly beside Helmont.
He was overly ambitious, Divenoll, and he always had been. He’d been at his most useful held aside, intelligent, but always hungry. And yet, so many had died. Maybe the time for his elevation had come.
“Your evil is in vain.” Sir Merrill was wreathed in emerald light, like there was an unseen aura around him that had caught fire. But even the Ignition Arts did not protect him from Geber, that was worthy of study. “Before I die, I will destroy my key.”
“When you die.” Helmont did not fight the gleeful edge of his words. “I will kill everything on this island. You have resisted the rightful owners of this power, and all will suffer for it. All will...”
Helmont’s mental map of the island bloomed with life. A new tree of power stretched unseen limbs several canals away.
Then another tree joined it. There were more nexuses! More fighting students. More resistance.
“You finally feel it too.” Sir Merrill sounded satisfied, almost smug, ready to laugh. “I think too late.”
“New resistance of some kind.” Helmont spoke through his comm. He sensed many figures approaching outside, all unmapped except – Kol Maros was there and another strange form, half-shadow, that Helmont could not fully recognize. “Reform defensive perimeter.” Helmont lifted himself from the sanctuary floor and floated himself back through the entryway and to the cathedral doors. “What do you see, Herald?”
The Paramount Herald opened fire. It sent a beam down beyond the outer church walls.
Something fired back.
Red fire, then white, then blue met the red beam from the shuttle. For a heartbeat, fire and light clashed in the air.
Then fire won out. It pushed the light back and back, so fast that Helmont had no time to give orders. He sensed the fire clearly – it was the lantern that Orson Gregory carried.
Then the fire broke through the red beam. It broke through the Paramount Herald’s other shielding and through the top of the shuttle’s metal skin.
The craft that had carried Baron Helmont across the world for decades fell toward the church courtyard. The curved top of the bell was broken open, exposing naked metal and billowing gas.
The shuttle crashed to the courtyard at the same time that other explosions rained down closer to the church. There were more blasts of fire and flashes of light and smokes and screams. The ground shook. This was the islander artillery that had attacked his force on the beach – turned toward their own church! Helmont could feel the new nexus trees reaching out. They had some hand in the attack.
The main force of his Shapers retreated to the steps of the cathedral. Helmont sensed lives lost in the chaos, but it was too fast even for him to follow. He could not chart all the lives that winked out between the light and smoke.
“Form defense!” Helmont ordered. “I want our cluster line, full shields. Prepare positions for ranged attack. Where is the Lezander Class? Bring me...”
Projectiles poured through the burning wreckage of his shuttle. There were arrows and bullets and the neon blue plasma of their own Doc & Leiber blasters.
Orson Gregory led the islanders through the smoke. His coat billowed out behind him. He held the lantern close to his chest. Then he threw it over his shoulder. Thousand Destiny was in his hand. An armored young woman walked beside him. She held a green dagger of the Dommik fire.
Kol Maros walked to Gregory’s left. Helmont sensed him clearly. He had a shield glowing at his side, and Helmont saw that the islanders had dressed him in full armor of their old house. He had the auroch sigil on his chest plate and an old sword at his hip. He wore his own Liberty Corps Captain vambraces, stained with the reddish-brown of old blood.
And on his side – what was that? The figure there was dressed in full Dommik armor, helmet too, but it felt oddly familiar – familiar and not human, but alive. The figure held a blaster pistol in one hand and some kind of reloading crossbow in the other. It was firing both into Helmont’s line on the stairs.
“Hold this position!” Helmont ordered. “Kill everything that moves, everything that breathes. Every life that is not dressed in our full kit must die. This is your time to prove yourselves. This is your time to climb to glory. Face the power of the old covenant and build the future for the Liberty Corps! Liberty Corps Forever!”
“I will rally them, Sire.” Sir Vergil arrived beside him. Sir Tolem was with him and Zarag too. Sir Mordecai’s armor clanged together as he grew, and the sword in his hands grew with him. It steamed. “We will kill the traitors.”
“Yes, kill them all,” Helmont ordered. “Divenoll, Geber, Larks, Greenley, remain with me. There will be no duel for the last knight. He need not survive to see the death of his people.”
“Face me, Grover!” Orson Gregory shouted from the far side of the cathedral yard as he led the attack between the ice shards and fallen drones. “Finish our fight!”
“I will show him the skill of your teachings,” Sir Vergil promised. “Swordsmen of the Liberty Corps! We meet this rabble!” He raised his own sword, and it came alive with runes.
The projectiles ceased as the islanders and defenders advanced. They were close now, near to the Liberty Corps line. The two armored groups faced each other, antique smithcraft and modern industry. Past and future met before the doors of the old church. All the long day and brief night of battle had nearly passed, so many lives had been lost, but all fates would be decided as they had always been decided, force-with-force and blade-against-blade.
Swords were drawn.