Two Renegade Realms (Realm Walkers Book 2) (44 page)

LINE OF DEFENSE

T
hey’d used the V of force before. Cantor told himself it would work here in this larger, more sophisticated version. It had to.

The defenders formed two lines, one along the edge of Derson, and the other on Zonvaner. Chomountain centered the one and Dukmee stood at the point of the other. From each leader, a line composed to maximize the strength of their force spread out in both directions along the edges of the two planes. The warriors were arranged in repeated threesomes: realm walker, realm walker’s constant, gorus dragon.

Behind this line of defense, a second row offered backup. More gorus populated this line, and there were seasoned soldiers from all three endangered planes. The gorus could be counted on to dispatch any enemy that broke through the frontline. Also, they would jump into any gap should a member
of the first string fall. Keeping them back would be more of a problem. The gorus dragons were enthusiastic fighters.

A half mile behind the second line, the councilmen stood with their personal bodyguards, or as Bridger remarked, their personal thugs.

Tension zinged along Cantor’s skin. He breathed deeply and whispered a prayer for their success. The words of appeal to Primen veered off to concentrate on the protection of his most cherished. Ahma and Odem must withstand the onslaught. He’d just found them. Bridger must be kept from some foolhardy move. Bixby . . . Bixby was actually the first one to come to mind, and he’d shoved her down on his prayer list. Behind every petition for grace and mercy, her name floated as a distraction. She impaired his communion with Primen, his effort to center himself and prepare for battle. He would prefer to be by her side in this fight. Clearly her effect on him was a good reason to not be too close.

Bixby was on one side of Dukmee and Cantor on the other. Cantor felt Bixby knocking up against his thoughts.

“You’re supposed to be concentrating. What do you want?”

“Don’t be a grouch. I want you to tell me this is going to work.”

“It worked yesterday when we did the first experiment.”

“Actually,
it worked the third time we tried.”

“It worked the first two times,
but had glitches. That’s why
we practiced
—
to get the snags out. The third time was perfect.”

“But we didn’t sustain it for long.”

“Bixby,
take deep breaths.”

“I wore heavier clothing so I’m less likely to catch fire.”

“You soaked your clothes in that liquid Dukmee gave us,
right?”

“Yes. It smells.”

“Then don’t take deep breaths.”
He looked at Bridger and the gorus dragon just beyond him. Bridger had taken an instant dislike to the brute that had been assigned to them. All the gorus dragons were on the rough side — no manners, loud, boasting, and taken to raucous revelry. Chomountain had gone into the gorus camp and calmed them down. Dukmee had threatened to drug them, but Cho didn’t like the idea.

Cantor spoke to Bixby, hoping to soothe her pre-fight jitters.
“Is your gorus behaving?”

“Yes. I think he’s in awe of Totobee-Rodolow.”

“Ours keeps belching, and that disgusts Bridger.”

“Totobee-Rodolow said they do that because they’re
nervous.”

Bumps rose up on Cantor’s arms. The air crackled.

“Did you feel that, Cantor?”

“Yes, they’re coming. Stand strong, Bixby. We can do this.
Primen is on our side.
Who could stand against us?”

“No one.”

“That’s right
.
Keep that in the back of your mind.”

The renegade planes had been hidden by what Dukmee called a space curtain. He said it was a layer of air gathered at the edge of their own planeary system, and beyond that layer, there was no air. Now Cantor saw one dark disk edge through.

From where they stood, they could see only Lyme Major, since that plane passed above them. Chomountain and his crew would be looking at Lyme Minor.

They waited.

From start to finish, the interpass would take five hours. The warriors defending their planes would need to repel the intruders for only two hours. Then the plane would be directly
overhead. From what they’d seen in the Observatory of the Universe, the danger of incoming enemy would end.

A current of power washed over Cantor, and he could sense it originated with Dukmee and traveled outward in both directions. As it progressed, he felt the energy increase with every person it encountered. The force gave strength to and multiplied the power drawn from the conduits. The pulse exhilarated Cantor, and it appeared it had the same effect on the members of the line, intensifying their focus.

The first pod appeared in the sky. The green hull burst into the blue as if someone had pushed a small stone through a piece of material. Unlike a pebble, the pod did not damage the fabric of the blue.

“Hold.”
The command came from Dukmee.

A dozen more pods slipped into their vision.

“Hold. We want them closer.”

Fifty more followed in rapid succession. The first pods were close enough to make out details. The only interruption to the smooth green skin of the vessel appeared at the front, where a window of some kind revealed the head of the lone occupant.

“Hold. Hold. Hold.”
A breathless pause.
“Now!”

Cantor felt the flow of energy leave him in a rush. The stream wrapped around the plumes of fire coming from the mor dragons and the gorus. The Force of V united the individual burst of flame into one barrier of fire. The heat and power of the Force of V pulsed outward, and away from the line of defenders. One by one at first, then ten at a time, the pods burst into fiery conflagrations as they hit that wall of flames. The realm walkers defense devoured the invaders’ ships, leaving very little to fall from the sky.

“Hold!”

Cantor obeyed, but it took effort to pull himself out of that flow of energy. He noticed Bridger struggled as well, and it was a full minute before all the gorus had quit blowing their flames.

Cantor examined the empty sky. A few of the gorus let out hoots of triumph, but the celebration died out quickly. In only a few minutes, Lyme Major spat out another assault of pods. As long as they didn’t land, Derson was safe.

Dukmee took them through the same regimen, waiting for the ships to come close enough for them to damage. The next volley brought an unpleasant surprise. Instead of a straightforward assault, a shower of spinning disks pummeled the defenders. The disks were burned, but the effort to destroy them before they reached the ground taxed the strength of the defense line. When the onslaught finished, Cantor picked up several spent disks that had made it past the Force of V.

The palm-sized weapons came from a plant. They reminded him of a flattened grass burr. Nasty, sharp points stuck out around the edge. Several of the warriors had been hit. They moved back and the gaps were refilled. A healer would have to remove the embedded disks.

They went through three additional volleys. These rounds included both the pods and the barbed disks. The stamina of those warriors still in the front line faded. At the end of each encounter, Cantor eased out of the force of strength with greater ease. He noticed Bridger had become more proficient as well. But the gorus dragons held on longer. He relayed this information to Dukmee.

“It’s to be expected, I suppose,”
he communicated in return.
“They have held in there, exercising a discipline they do not
have. I’m hoping two more assaults will be the limit of our
attackers’ strength.”

“Not one has landed.”

“Not one,”
Dukmee agreed, but he didn’t sound victorious.
“Those nasty barbs slip through. And they hurt, distract the
team from holding the V together. It’s too soon to assume we
have this problem licked.”

The enemy launched the next foray with greater speed.

The defense line put up their firewall with only seconds to spare. Cantor smelled the singed plants as they fell in front of the line. The defenders had hardly withdrawn and taken a couple of restful stretches with deep breaths before the strongest attack yet came hurtling toward them.

The battles took their toll on the warriors. Many in the second line had been pulled to the front. These men had less training in holding on to the V. If released without the warriors withdrawing the force, the line of powerful fire would whip around like a dropped waterhose spraying at full throttle.

Cantor renewed his hold on the stream of energy. He found the force shifting, slipping from his grasp as if he tried to straighten a cooked noodle and hold it in position. A jolt passed up the line, and he knew someone had fallen. Dukmee gave the command to disengage. But before the line could smoothly and safely withdraw, three jolts in rapid succession whipped the reins of control out of their hands. A few held on.

The force writhed in Cantor’s grip, no longer limp like a noodle, but strong and agile like a snake. Without seeing with his eyes, he knew the line of force had broken. Loose ends thrashed back on his fellow warriors. Screeches rent the air. His comrade defenders were being attacked by their own weapon.

Dukmee gave an impassioned order to cease.

Cantor and Bridger dropped the line, but their gorus roared and battled on. With the exchange of a look, Cantor and his constant grabbed the dragon’s arms and pulled them back. The gorus struggled to be free, to rage on.

The beast thrashed his tail and connected with Cantor’s shin. He yelped and pulled back. Bridger stamped his hind foot on the gorus’s tail, immobilizing it. They managed to pull the wild gorus away from the flow of energy, but not without damage. Cantor had singed spots in his hair. Bridger had sores on the palms of his hands and a broken claw.

They sank to the ground, only to jump to their feet when they saw a dozen pods set down in the withered grass before them. An explosion nearby sent them through the air in opposite directions. For a moment, Cantor lay stunned. He felt a pull on his sleeve. Bixby knelt beside him, with Totobee-Rodolow beside her.

“Dukmee says to go four on one. The gorus aren’t allowed to fight with us.”

He nodded and stood on shaky legs. “Where’s Dukmee?”

“He passed out right after he gave the order.”

Cantor took a deep breath. That meant he was in charge. He searched the area for his constant. “Bridge?”

The dragon stood from where he’d landed in tall bushes. “I’m with you.”

They approached the closest invader. He snarled and whipped his tail toward them. They jumped back, remembering how they’d seen those tails used to swipe opponents’ feet out from under them.

United, they gathered a small, mishapened Force of V. Bridger and Totobee-Rodolow shot out a stream of fire. Cantor
and Bixby harnessed it, and they quickly overcame the green monster before them.

The next green foe fell as easily, but while they downed one, three others closed a circle around them.

“Take that!” Bridger’s outburst alerted Cantor to their predicament. Bridger had swung his tail at one invader, successfully batting him high into tree limbs. But the impact on the beast’s blade-like arm had sliced through the dragon’s scales.

Cantor launched himself at a second foe intent on killing the weakened member of their team. With his sword drawn, Cantor lopped off one of the beast’s arms, twirled in front of him, and with a downward slash, took the other. He turned just in time to see Bixby and Totobee-Rodolow push the next invader toward his sharp sword. The creature raised his arms to attack and Cantor used the exposed torso as a target. The third green beast charged Totobee-Rodolow. Bixby straddled her dragon’s tail and was lifted to a height where she could swing downward and remove its head perched on a thin neck.

They looked around. No more invaders lurked in their area.

Cantor cleaned his sword and put it away. “We must see to Bridger’s wounds. I’ll leave you to help with the wounded, and I’ll check the line for trouble.”

He started along the ridge, but turned back to quickly cross the trampled ground to snatch Bixby from her perch on Totobee-Rodolow’s tail. He held her tight against his chest. With his face buried in her tangle of hair, he breathed deeply. Then set her down again. And left.

“Well!” said Bixby.

“Well, indeed,” said her constant.

All along the edge of Derson, other foursomes eradicated
the last invaders. Sentries watched for stray Lymen, but none were spotted.

Cantor worked down the line in the direction that would take him to Odem and Ahma. He wanted to skip some of the wounded in his anxiety to check on his mentors, but he forced himself to tend those before him. Everyone who was able worked to ease the pain of the suffering.

Some had diverse injuries caused by the barbed disks. Cantor had been given a supply of medication. He dispensed pain potions that helped the patients while they waited for other healing measures. Many had been burned by the ropelike force. Most of these wounds were deep and long, but cauterized at the same moment they were inflicted. One realm walker had been lashed across his wrist and had his hand cut off. Again the fire sealed the stub. A dragon had lost a wing, but that would grow back.

The casualties were high among the gorus. They seemed to have been targeted by the untamed force when the realm walkers lost control. These fierce dragons made poor patients, and needed a soothing tonic to lull them to sleep. Cantor shared his supplies, giving a hamper to two young mor dragons with instructions to run along the line in both directions and distribute the medicine to those able to work with the wounded.

Duskflies had come out of the bushes by the time Cantor got to the last group of wounded. He hadn’t seen Ahma and Odem. Frustrated, he started back. He could travel quickly now that he didn’t stop for every wounded warrior. He wanted to get back to Bixby. Hopefully, she wouldn’t be too busy to eat with him. He’d make sure she stopped long enough to rest.