Shadow of the Otherverse (The Last Whisper of the Gods Saga Book 3) (38 page)

“Your Majesty,” said Sorial, approaching the queen and executing a slight but formal bow. He favored Rexall with a nod of recognition.

In an unexpected reciprocal gesture, Myselene rose from the throne and curtseyed. “Your Magus, I’m pleased you could make time in your busy schedule to see me.” There was no hint of sarcasm in the words; they were sincerely meant. “You look tired.”

Tired and old. Eighteen years old, but I look thirty. At least ten years eclipsed in as many days
.

“Are we ready?” she asked. “Can we beat him?”

She was asking him because she thought he had a sense of Justin’s capabilities.  Truthfully, Sorial didn’t know, nor was he sure if such an understanding would matter if The Lord of Fire invoked a void. He avoided a direct answer to the question, although he knew she was savvy enough to recognize the aversion and its meaning. “We’re as prepared as possible. Hopefully, we’ve anticipated the worst he can offer. The walls are stronger than they’ve been since the stone giants helped build ’em. The soldiers on the walls and in the field have got bullets that can hurt the djinn. And there ain’t a place in ten miles that can’t be reached by a tunnel. You’ve got your escape plan?”

“There will be no escape.” The look that passed between Myselene and Rexall at that moment spoke volumes. This had obviously been a matter of heated discussion. The queen would not be overruled and the captain of her guard wasn’t happy about that. Sorial could sympathize; he’d had firsthand experience with Myselene’s headstrong nature.

“Death with honor rather than life as a queen in exile?” It was, of course, a choice she had faced before.

“I’m tired of running. And, really, if Obis falls, there’s nowhere left to run to. After Vantok, there was Basingham. After Basingham, there was Obis. After Obis… where? Not Andel. They’d give me up in a moment if it spared them Justin’s wrath. A small village somewhere in the far south? Even if he didn’t find me, what kind of life would that be?” Left unspoken was the knowledge she shared with Sorial and Alicia that there was more at stake here than the six cities. If Justin won, there might be no safe place on any of the continents.

“Even so, if you go, use the longest tunnel. The entrance is in the basement of The Citadel. The exit is ten miles to the east, which should be well past Justin’s lines. From there you could go to Sussaman, where I’m sure you’d be welcome - at least now that your power-mad chancellor has been dealt with.”

“I suppose I’m going to have to find someone to fill that position. Not an easy task now that so many worthy candidates are dead. I guess I’ll wait until after the battle and see who distinguishes themselves. I’d ask Alicia but I know that she and you have… things to do after this is all over. The ghosts of Ibitsal have spoken.

“They tell me Justin is only days away. Overcommander Carannan doesn’t believe the battle will last long. In a week, all should be decided one way or the other. Strange to think… so little time, so momentous a turn of events. In ordinary days, a week might pass without anyone noticing. Now, a week stands between a return of liberty to the cities or a reign of terror.”

“How is the next ruler of two cities?” He couldn’t help asking even though he wasn’t sure it was wise.

“He’s given me an incredible appetite. And sometimes I think I can feel him moving.”

“Him?”

Myselene shrugged. “That’s how I think of
it
. I suppose it could be a her. As I hope I’ve demonstrated, it shouldn’t matter. Gender shouldn’t be an obstacle to rulership.”

“If Justin loses, what then?”

“Retake Vantok. That’s why I came here in the first place.”

“But things have changed. And so have your plans, I assume. Will you unite the remains of Justin’s rampage?”

“And create an empire? Most likely. But not through conquest. Each city will be given a choice to join the confederation, including Andel. There won’t be reprisals for refusal.”

No reprisals, but no aid either. And he was reasonably certain she intended to acquire the loyalty of all four wizards. The battle of Obis would determine who ruled the world - if there was a world to be ruled.

“Where will you ride out the battle?” asked Sorial.

“In the bowels of The Citadel. The most secure location, I’m assured. In there, I’m not likely to become an accidental casualty. If Justin wins, I’ll live long enough to meet him face-to-face and suffer the same fate as Azarak. I’d be honored to die the same way he did.”

Sorial doubted it would happen that way. Myselene might have decided to die if Obis fell but Rexall wouldn’t allow it. A rap on the skull was all it would take for him to spirit her away. Like it or not, it was doubtful the queen would perish in the coming days. Sorial wasn’t sure the same could be said about him.

There seemed little else to say… at least little that could be said with so many other ears listening. “Take care of yourself and the child,” said Sorial.

“Help bring glory and victory to Obis. I feel certain we’ll meet again on a brighter day.”

* * *

It was a slate gray morning with the rising Winter sun hidden behind a stubborn bank of clouds. The day’s weather was unpromising; Alicia was forecasting a stiff breeze out of the northwest - not unusual for this time of the year - and light, intermittent snow. Those flakes would see the joining of battle between Justin’s host and the defenders of Obis. Depending on how fast things developed, it might all be over by nightfall. Certainly, by the time tomorrow’s sun set, the fate of the six cities would be known, at least insofar as the mortal component was concerned.

At the moment, it was lonely atop The Citadel’s observation post. Many of the generals had joined their men and were either at or near the city wall or at the Sutter’s Hill camp. Others were briefing underlings about how to react to various contingencies. That left Carannan, a handful of his personal guards, Alicia, and Sorial alone, waiting and watching. Their outer ring of scouts had informed them of what was coming. Now it was just a matter of their eyes confirming it.

“It’s going to be a long day,” said Carannan. He glanced at his daughter and son-in-law and smiled when he saw they were holding hands. It was a normal thing to do for a young couple in love but, in these circumstances, it touched him. He couldn’t imagine his own wife holding his hand in a situation like this. At the moment, he didn’t know where she was. With the refugees in Sussaman, he supposed. His sister was in Obis under the queen’s protection.

Sorial knew Alicia was nervous. His own demeanor was calm. He had made his peace with what was to come. He would fight as hard as he could, use as much magic as was needed, and accept what fate decreed. High-strung by nature, she had become overstimulated by anticipation and frustrated by what she viewed as a mutual failure on their part. Despite her best efforts, she had been unable to teach him how to form a void. The reason was simple enough: he couldn’t see the conduits and it wasn’t possible to close off what he couldn’t identify. She had tried everything imaginable to get him to locate them but it was as if he was blind. With him unable to aid in establishing or lifting a void, the responsibility for any such action, if necessary, would fall to her.

As a boy, he had strived to be outside every day at dawn to watch the sun rise. Today, that event was hidden from his view but, standing here, not so very far from where he had been born but a half-world away from the place he had called home, he felt a pang of nostalgia. Something monumental would happen today. Whether he lived to see it or not, the world would be a different place very soon.

“I don’t feel like a little girl anymore,” said Alicia, betraying her line of thought.

“You stopped being one some time ago,” said her father.

“I know. On my Maturity. Nearly two years ago.”

“No, not on your Maturity. When you left the temple and went after Sorial. That was the day you jettisoned your childhood and embraced the next phase of your life. It was the first time you went after something on your own rather than asking another person - me, Vagrum, your mother - to get it for you.”

“In the end, I got what I wanted.”

“You always had a knack for that. I indulged you too much. I still do, and so does Sorial.”

Sorial said nothing, although he thought Carannan’s assessment was harsh. Possessing magic had forged his daughter into a person he perhaps didn’t know. The little girl who had visited the stable had been a brat, but Alicia was no more her than Sorial was the surly boy who had reveled in her dislike of all dirty things.

“That first day in the stable when I met Sorial… Did you know then?” She paused, considering, before answering herself. “Of course you did. That’s why I was there in the first place, to meet my future husband. The ‘important person’ I was always told I’d wed.”

Carannan smiled at the memory. “I was worried. Oil and water, you two. A spoiled duke’s daughter and a dirty, hard-working stableboy. Yes, we manipulated you but it didn’t take much effort. I’m glad your match is so full of love and respect. I knew from the first day I met him that Sorial was the kind of young man I’d be happy to welcome into my family, wizard or not.”

“It took me a little longer,” said Alicia. “That first day, all I could think was how
dirty
he was. He smelled like horse shit and had straw stuck to his bare skin.”

“I thought it was funny how afraid you were of mice. I mean, they’re meek and tiny. Not at all worthy of fear.”

“I’ve gotten over that.”

“I wonder…”

“Don’t you dare!” Alicia’s voice was louder than she intended. Sorial and Carannan both laughed and, face reddening, she joined them.

They lapsed into silence after that, each thinking their own thoughts about the past and how circumstances had led them to where they were today. There were so many what ifs, the biggest of which had yet to be answered. This entire war was a result of miscalculations on Ferguson’s part. If Braddock had become The Lord of Fire instead of Justin, the world would be a different place. But, while the late prelate’s actions had shaped the current state of the six cities, the situation within the Otherverse was independent of him.

Less than a half-hour later, Carannan, who was using a small telescope to scan for signs of the enemy, extended his finger and pointed to the east. “There.”

At first, Sorial couldn’t see anything although he could feel what was coming through the earth. Using magic to boost his vision, he picked out ten points of light - the djinn. Behind them was a mass of humanity, a dark blotch against the horizon - thousands upon thousands of marching feet. If the reports were accurate, The Lord of Fire had an army twenty-two thousand strong. At the moment, they weren’t the danger. The djinn represented the paramount threat and they might have to be faced without the benefit of magic.

Carannan’s voice was quiet and serious. “So it begins.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE: ON THE WALLS

Sorial emerged from the back wall of the Sutter’s Hill cave and, without preamble, called for someone in charge. He had come himself because no one could deliver the message faster. Back in Obis, atop The Citadel, Carannan’s war council was assembling. Messengers were being dispatched en masse to every street and ally in the city. Alicia would wait in the bowels of the great building until Sorial’s return then the two of them would take their place atop the city walls alongside the ordinary soldiers ready to sell their lives for their homes. It was a vulnerable position but it gave them the freest hand to act against the djinn for as long as Justin allowed magic to be employed against him. Sorial didn’t think that would be long. The Lord of Fire liked gambling but only for as long as he had the winning hand.

His arrival caused a stir and, despite how thickly packed it was in the cave, a path was cleared for him to the mouth. He was met there by Rotgut. Although not the highest ranking officer in the camp, the generals had willingly allowed him to assume the position of “wizard liaison.” Of the fourteen thousand gathered in and around the hill, he was perhaps the only one completely comfortable interacting with Sorial. Rotgut still treated Sorial like the callow youth he had first met on Carannan’s estate - an obstinate stableboy with a hopeless crush on the duke’s daughter.

“He’s coming,” said the wizard without preamble. “We just marked him from the top of The Citadel. The overcommander wanted you to know that the full army will pass north of your position shortly. We’re not sure how far from the walls they’re going to stop or what the overall strategy will be. The Lord of Fire is leading with his ten djinn but it’s unlikely he’ll send them all forward. He’ll probably keep a few in reserve. This is probably the last time I’ll be able to visit since he’ll work a ‘spell’ to nullify the effects of magic.” Sorial didn’t like using the word “spell” - it was a gross simplification for any act of magic - but it was a shorthand Rotgut would understand.

“And our participation? We knows we’s supposed to wait for ‘the signal,’ but no one rightly told us what ‘the signal’ is.”

“Until we understand Justin’s strategy, it’s difficult to say for sure. Communication will continue using runners through the tunnels. Just because I can’t contact you by magic doesn’t mean you’ll be cut off.  But our best guess is that the signal will be represented by a retreat of the djinn. If they abandon the walls and head toward a point behind the main battle line, that’s your indication to move forward. Make sure you have scouts tracking them at all times and runners to bring word of any movement away from Obis.”

“An’ iff’n that never happens?”

“Then you’ll have to rely on relayed orders from the overcommander. The goal is to get the djinn out of the battle so your troops will have a reasonable chance. You saw what happened at Vantok when they became a factor.”

Rotgut nodded. Images from the previous battle were burned into his memory. A good, fair fight that his men were winning had turned into a nightmarish rout when the monsters out of legend had appeared. “Yer Magus, if you can take care of them djinn, the dragon, and the enemy wizard, we’ll win the battle for the queen. Much as I hate to give credit to foreigners, it’s hard to imagine a better organized army. The Lord of Fire may have a few extra men but he’s pulled ’em from so many different places, they won’t fight as one.”

“If you come up against a djinn, use the ammunition I provided. But don’t use it on anything else, including the dragon. It would be just like throwing rocks, and these rocks are hard to come by, even for me. When they’re gone, there won’t be no more.” There were a total of four barrels. Three were on the walls and the other one was here.

“Any other orders, sir?”

“Just sit tight. It ain’t gonna be easy, knowing more than twenty thousand are attacking the city, but patience is your greatest ally at the moment. Continue to rest the men in shifts. When the time comes, you’ll know it.”

After departing the camp, Sorial considered using his abilities to transport him through the ground but decided against it. Instead, he walked as fast as he could through the tunnel. His stone leg was sore - last night, he had made the graft between bone and rock more stable and that had resulted in a fair amount of bruising. This way, however, when the void descended, he would be able to hobble along using it like an ordinary peg leg. Even with full control over the leg, it was an inefficient way to travel, but the danger of passing through the earth was too great with Justin this near. If he blocked the conduit while Sorial was in transit, the result would be instant death. Alicia had to be equally careful about how she used water. A fate similar to Ariel’s could wait if they were incautious.

Alicia was waiting for him upon his return to the city. He emerged from the tunnel in The Citadel’s lower basement and was greeted by the sound of a distant explosion. The “boom” was like faraway thunder but it was physically painful for someone as attuned to the earth as Sorial was. He could feel its reverberations from the impact point on the eastern ramparts through the walls and into the ground. The battle for Obis was underway. He paused for a moment to allow his senses to range out, using the opportunity to develop a mental picture of the current situation, seeing things that even Carannan, with his favored position, wouldn’t be able to discern.

The army had stopped outside bow range and Justin’s men were in the process of forming a perimeter around the portion of the city not bordered by the promontory’s cliffs, almost as if they were planning a siege, which was obviously not the case. Still, except for the tunnels, there was now no way out of Obis. The village had been thoroughly plundered and set ablaze; hopefully, no one had been foolish enough to ignore the call to evacuate. Eight djinn, spaced roughly equally around the entire city, were attacking the walls, while the remaining two were three miles distant, guarding Justin. He also had a small contingent of human troops with him, and there was a steady stream of couriers riding between his position and the main army. Of the dragon, there was no sign, but Sorial didn’t doubt it would make its presence known soon.

“It’s begun,” said Alicia unnecessarily. Her words were punctured by several explosions in quick succession.

“Is everything ready?”

“The men are assembling now, upstairs. They’ll be ready when we need them.”

“They have the satchel?”

She nodded.

“Do you have…?”

“I do,” she said, patting the side of her robe. “I just hope I’ve gotten enough practice.”

Sorial didn’t say anything. He didn’t like the idea of Alicia having to shoulder the burden of wielding a weapon but his physical limitations made it impractical, especially in a void. He had to hope that her father’s training bore fruit and that she was a more apt pupil than he had been.

They moved quickly - or as quickly as Sorial could manage - through The Citadel and into the wide courtyard, which was a beehive of activity. Their goal was the south wall. Although that side of the city was protected by the cliffs, it was under attack by two djinn. Circumstances permitting, Sorial intended to eliminate those two. Thus far, Justin had been content to allow magic to flow normally, perhaps as a way to lure his opponents into the open. It would also be easier for him to direct the attack and control the flow of the battle. As soon as magic became a liability, however, he would shut it down. Sorial assumed that would happen the moment he lost a djinn. He hoped to time his attacks closely enough that two of the creatures would be down before Justin could react.

In the open, the acrid smell of burning rock filled the air. The barrage on the walls was almost constant now, with the djinn pummeling the ancient barriers with flaming balls. The grounds surrounding the great tower were alive with activity as injured men - many of them badly burned and others with smashed bones and twisted limbs - were sped from the walls to healers’ stations. Others beyond help lay in rows - some moaning, some still.

Sorial’s prior strengthening of the walls enabled them to stand up surprisingly well to the djinn’s initial round of attacks. To the naked eye, they appeared intact, but Sorial knew differently. Tiny cracks multiplied and became more pronounced with every blow. The prolonged exposure to unnatural heat was also weakening the stone, making it brittle. It wouldn’t take long before chunks started coming down. Sorial estimated that eight djinn would be able to open gaps large enough to admit enemy troops in less than an hour. That’s when the chaos of fighting street to street would begin. There were some nasty surprises prepared for the invaders - areas of pitch that would be set ablaze and so forth - but nothing that would do more than delay the advance.

As they moved toward the wall, Sorial assessed the relative stability of the nearest section. Unhappy with what he discovered - too many cracks in the stairs they would use to reach the parapet and ramparts near to crumbling, he poured his concentration into the wall and did what he could to reinforce it. He needed it to hold long enough for them to accomplish what was needed. If it collapsed while they were up there after the void descended, Justin would have achieved a primary goal. Neither of them would survive the fall, especially not in the midst of so much debris.

Soldiers at the bottom escorted them up the narrow steps, two ahead and two behind. The walls shook rhythmically and Sorial experienced a sympathetic echo of each blow in his body. Smoke stung his eyes. Even with several feet of stone between him and the djinn, he could feel the overwhelming heat. Memories of his previous encounters with these creatures forced their way to the fore of his mind.

There were no fewer than a hundred men lining this segment of the wall. Each was armed with a bow, but regular arrows were useless against this enemy. Sorial’s “special ammunition” hadn’t been distributed here; that was reserved for the east-facing wall and gate area. The men had been instructed not to use it when the wizards were in the city. At this point, while magic remained effective, Sorial didn’t want to alert Justin that there was a mundane weapon that might thwart the djinn.

It was noisy and dangerous at the top, with the narrow walkway bucking like a wild horse as a result of the continuous barrage. Sorial took another moment to firm up the nearby wall but the damage, which was evident to the eye from this vantage point, was too severe for a quick patch to fix. The stone, normally sand-colored, was burnt and blackened. There were streaks of blood on the walkway where injured men, crushed by debris or burnt by fire, had fallen. The deafening noise from the attack defeated all attempts at conversation, so the men acknowledged the newcomers with silent nods and salutes.

There were two djinn in the vicinity and the proximate damage was their handiwork. The nearest was twenty feet to the left, hovering level with the top of the wall about ten feet out. The other was over a hundred feet away to the right. Sorial took a moment to consider the best strategy to remove them. He wondered whether Justin was “seeing” through their eyes and managing their actions or whether he was permitting them autonomy. It might make a difference since he doubted the djinn would recognize him as a danger until it was too late. Justin, on the other hand, would mark him immediately. They had “met” only once but neither was likely to forget the other.

A ball of fire struck dangerously close, propelling blazing shards of rock into the line of defenders. Dozens of injured men collapsed, screaming and wailing, and one unfortunate solider tumbled off the wall to his death in the courtyard below. Sorial and Alicia, protected by elemental shields, escaped wounds. For an instant, Sorial thought he was the target but a glance at the attacking djinn indicated it had been a random assault aimed at the wall not a particular man. The creature had already turned its attention to a section farther to the left. The destruction was systematic with the goal of bringing down the entire wall, not just a segment of it.

Sorial studied the conditions. There was a great deal of dust in the air as result of the constant battering, but he wanted even more. What he intended was more challenging than either of the other times he had battled a djinn. This time, not only did he intend to bring down two in succession but he wanted to do it so quickly that they would be unable to retaliate. The more dirt in the air, the better. Crouching so his head was level with the top of parapet, Sorial placed his hand on Alicia’s shoulder, indicating he was ready to begin. As she expanded her water shield to encompass him, protecting him in case of a djinn retaliation, he abandoned maintaining his own defense and focused his full attention on the task at hand.

In his two previous encounters with this species, killing them had required a physical link. That had meant exposing himself to overwhelming heat in order to make contact with their flesh. Since his encounter with the djinn at Basingham, however, he had come to the realization of how omnipresent earth was. That recognition was the key to the method of attack he now intended to employ. If it failed, he would need Alicia’s protection because he would become the target of an enraged monster.

Before launching an attack, he concentrated on the cliffs, shaking the earth gently to dislodge loose particles and sending a light cloud of dust wafting up, carried on gentle air currents. It would have been more effective if he had an air-wizard to lift all the dirt to a level even with the top of the walls but this would have to do. As it was, it still allowed him to narrow his focus. By using the tiny molecules as a bridge, he could reach out to the nearest djinn almost as if he was touching it…