305) The Salvation of Eden, Chapter 69 — Attack

A large force of Kobolds watched from their cliffs. This must be more activity than they had seen in a long time, Kohra thought. It momentarily occurred to her how strange it was that she wasn't even afraid of them anymore. Somehow, when fighting a war, other threats to your life, like carnivorous dog-lizard-people, are just kind of accepted.

They stopped partway into the canyon, a fair distance from the no-longer-secret entrance. It was possible, they had reasoned, that Graxia would have set guards there, although Grok thought it far more likely that any troops she kept back would be in the cavern itself, not way out here in the cold, too far from the stronghold to communicate or get reinforcements.

In any case, they couldn't take any chances.

“Squirrelly time,” Melkorn said to Reilly, giving her a hug. He seemed to have finally figured out that they were the same. 

Reilly shrank, morphing into Squirrelly. The whole process was fast, taking only a couple of seconds. It was astonishing to watch, and Grok's eyes widened predictably. “Always wanted to see a Druid do that,” she grinned. 

Melkorn grinned back, like always, proclaiming with pride, “Squirrelly is my friend!”

“Be careful, Reilly,” Kohra whispered, watching the little squirrel scamper off toward the secret tunnel, jumping from shadow to shadow, an infinitesimal speck in the mountains.

A few minutes later, she was back. Lenny bent down, said “Sorry Reilly, you know what I gotta do,” and slapped her repeatedly across her little furry face until, bleary-eyed and woozy, she grew back into Reilly.

She drank some water, holding onto Melkorn for support. “There's nobody there; no traps; nothing.”

Grok nodded. “Good. She's focusing her remaining forces in the cavern.”

“Which is going to make getting into the cavern fun! Wheeeee!” Lenny laughed sardonically.

“At least we get out of the cold,” Devona grumbled, shivering. “I hate these mountains! If we get back…. No, WHEN we get back home, I'm heading to the beach and never setting foot in bloody mountains again!”

* * * * *

In the little room with the snake carcasses, Grok stopped, turned around, and brought out a tiny brass horn, which floated to her lips. “Stand back everyone,” she instructed, pointing the horn directly into the hole.

“Wait!” Reilly shouted, pointing at the burnt snake remains. “Can we bury them?”

It was a strangely sweet moment. They stood in a semi-circle around the hole. Gorb said a few words about the Light, giving the snakes' tortured souls a blessing in death, wishing them freedom and peace. Dominic jumped back down through the hole, reaching up while Reilly handed the bodies down to him, wrapped in a piece of her own cloak. He lay them among the bones, closing his eyes for a moment and remaining still, like he was giving them his own blessing, which indeed he was. Melkorn hauled him back up when he was done, and everyone tossed a handful of dirt from above. Then, they stood back.

“Farther,” Grok urged. “I cannot predict exactly what this is going to do.”

She aimed the horn carefully, directly into the hole, and blew. It emitted the strangest sound, especially for such a tiny instrument, a deep, loud rumbling, like an avalanche. A moment later, an avalanche was exactly what happened, a river of rocks and dirt and small boulders pouring out of the horn, quickly filling the cave. Grok jumped backwards, the avalanche filling the little room below, until it stopped, right at her feet. Coughing, she brushed herself off. “Well, that was quite…something.” It was the first time they had known her to be at a loss for words.

Everyone burst into quiet celebration, jumping up and down, high-fiving, hugging, Melkorn picking each person right up and spinning them around. They had done it! They had escaped the army! Most of it anyway.

Kohra felt, for a moment, hopeful.

* * * * *

They walked quickly down the dark tunnel in silence, broken only by Melkorn’s occasional stumble. Everyone had insisted he stay at the back, explaining that rear guard was one of the most important positions, and he was the strongest. He had grinned proudly, knowing they’d be in a heap of trouble if it wasn’t for him protecting them all.

Suddenly, Dominic held up his hand, motioning everyone into a huddle. “We're almost there. Everyone knows the plan right?” They all nodded.

“Okay, from here on, we have to be absolutely silent, until Reilly can give us a sense of their defences. We’re going to be fast, quiet, and deadly. And when we do engage in battle, hold nothing back. No mercy. This is for our lives, for our families, and for Eden.”

Each person put one hand into the centre, solemn but also, in a strange way, impish. This had been Lenny’s idea, and each person sported a devilish little smile. Grok was last, placing an arm stump on top of their hands. Then they bounced their arms like a sports team — 1, 2, 3 — and everyone whispered, triumphantly, “Master Blasters!” Then they raised their hands (and Grok, her arms) into the air and made quiet exploding sounds. Reilly giggled. Lenny, Grok, and Melkorn beamed. Dominic and Devona managed small smiles. Gorb snorted. Even Kohra felt giddy. They were a TEAM.

It was only a minute before they came across the remnants of Dominic’s traps, and skirted around the half-burnt bodies and debris, careful to not make a sound.

Reilly transformed again, bounding ahead down the dark tunnel, enjoying the enhanced sensitivity of the squirrel. She'd have no problem detecting any ambush, but she was still scared. Squirrelly was a nervous little creature in the best of circumstances, but now every hair tingled on high alert, every smell was attended to for any hint of danger, and her mind’s eye peered in every direction at once, watching for the tiniest hint of movement.

She reached the end of the tunnel that opened to the little cave. But the cave was different. The light was different. And it smelled…weird. Like musty canvas and sweaty humans. She froze, senses working overtime, and then realized, they had covered the entrance! From the outside, they had draped heavy mats of canvas over the entranceway, blocking the valley from view.

Carefully, she scanned the cave. There were ropes along the walls in criss-crossed patterns, somehow suspending a heavy net along the ceiling. It was a trap! But how was it triggered?

She looked everywhere, but couldn’t see any triggering device. No trip wires. Nothing to step on. Nothing. Just the canvas covering, the ropes, the rocks, and the net stretched along the ceiling.

Carefully, she wriggled underneath folds in the tarp, thankful that they hadn’t realized their enemy could shape-shift. The Druids kept their abilities top-secret for exactly this reason, and it served her well here. Graxia’s forces had prepared for a standard, military-style attack. As usual, nobody thought of the Druids.

Wriggling through to the other side, the larger cavern came into view. It was bright, eerie, watch-fires and torches lit all over the place, causing the whole cavern to shimmer and flicker. Standing right in front of the netting was a whole bank of crossbows, loaded and cocked, ready to fire. She took a quick estimate; there were at least 40, pointed right into the cave. Thin ropes were tied around each trigger, coming together into a cord that wrapped around a pulley and ran upwards, to the upper-slope above the cave. She crept up the slope, sticking to tiny shadows in the rocks as well as she could, trying to see.

A dozen soldiers, heavily armoured, were stationed on a diagonal ledge above the cave, one of them sitting in front of a lever, attached to a spring, to which the crossbow-firing-cord was tied. She had to go back and warn the others. There was nothing more she could do here.

Quickly, but carefully, she wriggled back under the canvas, and scurried through the cave. The others were already at the end of the tunnel, near the far wall, waiting. Lenny reached down, pet her head with one finger as a silent way of saying sorry, and then slapped her little face repeatedly until she grew back to Reilly.

Her eyes stayed closed, like she was asleep. She groaned quietly. “Ohhh gods, my head.” She whispered something. Dominic bent close, and she repeated it. “Go back; cave trapped up ahead.”

He signalled to the others, and they withdrew into the tunnel, Devona helping Melkorn, as silent as ghosts. Once they were far enough away that they could whisper safely, they crowded into a close huddle and Reilly described what she had seen. There were dark circles under her eyes and she looked gaunt. Shape-shifting this often was taking its toll. Probably getting slapped in the face repeatedly wasn’t helping much either. But Reilly wasn’t about to let them down.

“Damn!” swore Devona. Everyone nodded, then fell silent. They shared her sentiment, but they needed more than cursing to get through this. They needed ideas. Turning back was impossible; they had sealed the other end completely. And the longer they hesitated, the more likely it was that Graxia’s military would improve their defences even more. This trap was what they had managed in a few hours; they couldn’t be allowed more time to prepare. And besides, if there WAS another way for Graxia to get the rest of her army back in, they needed to give her as little time as possible to do so. They had to attack, and they had to do it now.

“How about I change into Graxia, and convince them to let us in?” Lenny whispered.

Grok shook her head. “Too dangerous. You won’t sound like her.”

Dominic perked up. “Grok, that Wand that puts up a Force-wall? Will it stop crossbow bolts?”

She nodded immediately. “Good idea! It’ll stop anything. I could seal off the cave, we spring the trap, let them fire, then deal with the guards as they rush us. Is that what you’re thinking?”

He nodded, surprised anew at how clever she was. “But you said it lasted for an hour. That’s no good.”
She smiled. “It lasts for no longer than an hour. I can bring it down whenever I want.”

A few minutes later, they had a workable plan. And no other choice. They outlined it several times until Melkorn understood what he had to do very, very clearly. Then they crept back into the cave and took up their positions.

Kohra, Lenny and Devona stood side by side against the back wall, directly in the line of fire. Kohra was terrified, knowing that dozens of deadly bolts would be hurtling straight at them all shortly. They’d be cut down instantly if Grok’s Wand didn’t work.

She gave Melkorn the vial of purple liquid, and he downed it in one gulp. She watched to see what it would do but there was no apparent effect. Melkorn took up position to the right of the girls, in the mouth of the tunnel, with Grok right beside him. Dominic and Gorb crossed to the opposite side, far enough back that they wouldn’t be hit by the netting once it fell. Reilly stayed behind in the tunnel, her Fire Wand at the ready. She was Plan B, if all else failed.

* * * * *

When each person was ready, they raised a thumb. Kohra was last. She was never going to be ready for this, but…now or never. She raised her thumb.

Grok pointed her Wand at a spot just in front of the canvas wall. Instantly, the heavy net fell from the ceiling as the canvas wall came down, but the Force-Wall interfered with both so that they swung toward it instead of falling straight down. The crossbows fired, bolts thudding dully into the canvas-covered Force-wall, as the guards outside shouted, and whistles sounded throughout the cavern.

Moments later, the dozen heavily-armoured guards dropped into the entrance of the cave, weapons drawn, prepared to meet the attack. But there was no enemy, just a bolt-studded canvas wall ahead of them. They paused, confused, several of them cursing.

“Now!” Grok yelled, and deactivated the ForceWall. The canvas collapsed to the floor, the net piling uselessly on top of it.

Kohra and Devona, already Connected to the Flux, grabbed Lenny’s shoulder and gave her everything they had. A huge, crackling bolt of lightning seared into the group of guards, hurling them backwards, knocking seven of them right over the edge, screaming as they fell to the rocks below.

The other five managed to keep their footing, but Gorb, Melkorn and Dominic were on them before they could even register what was happening. Dominic knocked one over the edge after his comrades, Gorb clobbered one into unconsciousness, and Melkorn cut two almost in half with a ferocious swing, then with one hand, picked the remaining one right off his feet and chucked him out of the cave, screaming as he fell to the rocks below.

There was no time to register any of this, no time for guilt, or for celebration, as arrows whizzed into the cave from somewhere in the cavern.

Grok, Melkorn and Gorb crouched, shields up, forming a wall to protect the others. Reilly turned back to Squirrelly, although she looked woozy from the effort, staggering a little.

Lenny, studying the guard Gorb had hammered, Shaped her appearance to mimic him, adding the illusion of a bloody wound in his stomach. She picked up his shield, stuck Squirrelly in her shirt (carefully tucking the tail down far enough that it wouldn’t pop out), and, crouching low behind the shield, shouted, “Hold your fire! It’s me!” For just a moment, the arrows paused and she staggered over the lip, clutching her side and stumbling down the trail.

It worked. Nobody shot at her, assuming she was one of theirs. In fact, nobody shot at all. After all, from down in the cavern, they couldn’t tell what had happened, and couldn’t see anyone to shoot at anyway. But Kohra was sure that a barrage was was trained on the little cave, waiting for the first hint of visible movement.

Lenny staggered down the path like she could barely keep on her feet. It was imperative that she get through the camp and to the forest. Her job (and Reilly’s) was to cut off any possible retreat, so that Graxia’s remaining forces weren’t able to regroup in the forest. Grok had assumed they’d have a Healer somewhere back there, probably in the Zhaalmohhrian home, which they assumed was on the other side of the copse of evergreens.

She kept her head down, as though walking was taking all her attention, and lurched down the path, around the storage building, and across the camp.

An explosion rocked the front of the cave, flames licking all the way to the back. Their shield-wall took the worst of it, but the heat was intense.

“We can’t stay here!” Grok yelled. “Melkorn! Run for the storage building! Ready? Charrrrrge!!”

Without hesitation, the big farm-boy roared his battle cry, “HAMMERRRRR!!!!” and charged, directly into the line of fire, everyone else right behind him.

A volley of arrows streaked toward him, smashing into his shield, his armour, two arrows ricocheting off his potion-toughened neck. He kept moving forward, focused on nothing but getting down that path. But a few steps later, he lost his footing, somersaulting and bouncing the rest of the way while the others tore after him in a hail of arrows.

Two hit Grok hard in the leg, but her bracers held and she didn't stop. It was going to take more than that to bring this old warrior down. Kohra’s arm was grazed, and Devona got hit in the boot, although the thick leather took most of the force. Gorb took three in his shield, a fourth grazing his thigh, but he didn’t go down. And Dominic just got plain lucky, moving much faster than the others and reaching the storage building first, helping Melkorn back to his feet as they all flattened themselves against the wall, chests heaving.

“We can’t stay here!” Grok yelled. “They’ll reposition any second. Gotta keep up the surprise!” Thumbs up all around. “Melkorn, clear the way!”

Again, he lumbered forward, shield up, axe at the ready, battle-rage contorting his normally gentle face.

Three guards rushed from the corner of the first barracks, and Melkorn didn’t even slow, taking one with his axe and smashing the other with his shield so hard the man flew backwards, crunching heavily into the wall behind him and slumping to the ground. Grok and Gorb followed on either side, with Dominic behind, arrow nocked and ready to fire. Kohra and Devona came last, crossbows up.

The third guard saw his mates go down and turned to make a run for it, when a thrown dagger caught him in the neck, and a man’s deep voice snarled “Coward!” from around the next corner of the storage shed.

There was no time to stop and plan; Melkorn was blind with rage, a killing machine with magically-armoured skin. But three steps past the corner, he suddenly stopped, for no apparent reason, just stopped and stood there like he was confused. Everyone paused. They knew they’d be shot as soon as they broke cover. But they also couldn’t stay. What was wrong with Melkorn?

Kohra grabbed Devona’s arm, and together, they dashed across to the barracks, cutting around behind. “The tower,” Kohra whispered into Dev’s ear. “Can you do it?”

Devona nodded. She was about to show Kohra just what Surrendering was all about. Sneaking around the back end of the barracks, they rounded another corner, cut between two, and got into position, crouching in shadows close to the building.

Devona raised her hands, rolling them into a circle like she was making a FlameBall but then, her eyes…. Kohra stared, astonished, and more than a little scared. Devona’s eyes turned pure black and a moment later, a huge, wagon-sized ball of dark fire rolled toward the tower, picking up speed as it went. Guards screamed in surprise and fear, pelting it uselessly with arrows until, with a sickening crunch, it slammed into the bottom supports, snapping several and lighting the whole structure on fire. More screams, guards falling, some on fire as the entire tower collapsed, a heap of broken wood, screams and flames.

Kohra was horrified, watching the men burn. But there was no time for such feelings. Dev slumped against her shoulder, her eyes returning to normal, and Kohra braced against the wall to keep them both from falling.

At the exact moment that Devona was taking down the guard tower, Lenny was limping past the spider statue. She could see an archer, crouched on the other side, using it for cover. Lenny didn’t hesitate, staggering forward holding her apparently injured side. As she passed, the person shouted, “You ok?” She grunted and nodded, pointing back towards the scene of battle.

But she was startled. That voice. She knew that voice! The Archer Captain! How in the worlds had she been able to get back? Her stomach felt like she’d swallowed one of Dev’s darkness balls as she realized what that meant. The others were probably back too. Or at least Graxia and the sorcerer.

The sorcerer! Of course! She probably got them back in somehow. Lenny swore under her breath, looking up at the narrow opening in the cavern’s ceiling, the opening that let in enough daylight to support the little forest’s growth. They must have flown in. Hopefully that meant there were only a few who made it back; surely the sorcerer couldn’t make an entire army fly?

Lenny was past the Captain, limping toward the trees and down a small footpath. Ahead, through the forest, she glimpsed a house, a dark, stone fortress carved right into the edge of the cliff, only its front face showing. The Zhaalmohhrian’s ancient home.

Maintaining her disguise, she lurched down the path. Just before reaching the small clearing in front of the house, she veered off, ducking into the trees and taking up position. “Reilly?” she whispered. The squirrel’s tail, then head, popped out of her shirt, and Squirrelly jumped off her shoulder, landing on the ground.

“We gotta hold this position.” Lenny was uncharacteristically grim. Then, SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! And again, SLAP! And finally, the squirrel morphed back into Reilly. The little girl looked terrible, her face red and swollen. She squinted vaguely at Lenny, trying to clear her blurry vision.

“Sorry Reilly. I hate doing that to you,” Lenny whispered, giving her a hug. “Oh! Also, they’re back. The bad guys, I mean. At least some of them. I saw the Archer Captain.” Reilly moaned.

There was a sudden, tremendous crash, and screams filled the air. Peering through the trees, Lenny saw the flaming guard tower fall. She grinned, pumping her fist. “We’re winning!”

* * * * *

But on the other side of the cavern, out of sight from Lenny's vantage point, it was a completely different story.

Melkorn had turned around to face his friends, but his eyes looked weird, like they weren't focusing properly. Then he snarled, and charged straight at Gorb, battle-axe raised. Grok quickly drew a Wand, and a thin grey beam hit Melkorn in the chest. He crashed into the dirt, asleep, as the Wand crumbled into dust.

In the same moment, a man emerged from around the corner of the storage shed, clad in gleaming chain-mail, two swords slashing expertly at Grok and Gorb. It was the Commander of the army, and he was clearly skilled, easily blocking and counterattacking in a whirl of flashing metal. Dominic released an arrow straight for his neck, and he simply batted it out of the air, maintaining his ferocious attack on the other two.

Grok and Gorb spread apart, trying to flank him from opposite sides, but he was far too fast, blocking, parrying, feinting, stabbing in a withering frenzy. He spun to one side, slicing at Grok, sparks flying off her breastplate, and in the same movement, kicked Gorb off balance, the old Klliik stumbling backward and landing flat on his butt. The man spun, slicing for Gorb’s head, but Gorb managed, just barely, to block it with his shield.

Suddenly, the Commander ducked, sweeping his arm forward, and arrows streaked past him from the direction of the spider statue, three in quick succession. One grazed Grok’s leg, the other grazed her neck and the third barely missed her head. Dominic squinted across the distance, catching sight of the archer huddled behind the statue. He recognized her instantly.

But he had no time to wonder about this; the Commander was already pressing his attack. Gorb was kicked down once again and Grok lurched backwards from the force of a blow, bleeding heavily from her neck wound, her eyes bright with battle fervour.

Two of the barracks doors burst open and four more soldiers rushed out. Dominic fired, bringing two down quickly, but then had to draw his own sword as the other two attacked. He wasn’t going to last long; they were far more skilled.

Balls of crackling dark energy hit the two soldiers right in the backs of their heads and they went down in a heap. He saw Devona preparing to throw another at the Commander, but out of the corner of his eye, saw the Archer Captain taking aim. “Devona! Get back!” he screamed, and she pulled back just in time, the arrow embedding into the wall where her head had been a moment before.

Fifteen feet in front of Dominic, Grok had lassoed the Commander’s legs with a silvery rope that sprung out of a Wand, and was keeping him off balance, while Gorb struggled back to his feet. The Archer Captain already had another arrow nocked, waiting for her shot.

Dominic drew his new bow, her bow, taking careful aim. She was a good 100 paces away, almost entirely hidden behind the statue. Remembering his training, he focused, allowing everything to fade, bringing his mind and body into that empty space of unity, the One Point. He felt it, and held it, held it, held it until the moment she shifted, exposing her torso just slightly, and he released. It was the best shot he had ever made. The woman’s eyes widened as blood spattered her chest. She staggered backward, out of sight.

The Commander had escaped Grok’s lasso and was pressing his attack, enraged by the loss of his troops but still fully confident he could take them himself. They fell back in a defensive line, parrying and blocking feverishly, but they were clearly outmatched, and Dominic knew it. He had already taken several hits, blood flowing freely.

Beside him, Gorb suddenly fell. Dominic stepped in to block the killing blow, and was smoked on the side of the head by a gauntleted fist he didn’t even see coming. He staggered, guard down, when Kohra's fire-pizza spun wildly toward them, catching the Commander’s eye. The man spun, dagger flying toward Kohra as he simultaneously ducked Devona’s DarknessBall. Kohra yelped as she was hit, falling back behind the corner of the barracks.

Dominic fired on pure instinct, his vision too blurry to see distinctly, but he took the Commander by surprise, his arrow finally slicing the man’s right arm.

Without even a pause, the Commander feinted toward Grok, then changed direction, launching his entire body directly into Gorb's shield, slamming the Klliik against a wall, and bouncing off, landing on his feet, then backpedaling while he yelled “Healing!” But nobody responded. “Retreat!” he yelled. Again, no response. Realizing he was alone, he backed up, wary. The others didn’t push it. Grok was bleeding from so many cuts on her face that she could barely see; Gorb had the wind knocked out of him and was struggling to get back to his feet. Dominic fired again, but the man was ready, swatting the arrow easily. Alone, he retreated toward the spider statue and the forest beyond.

* * * * *

As this battle was raging, the Archer Captain staggered down the path toward the ancient Zhaaalmohhrian home, blood streaming down her chest. She had been completely surprised by that shot. Curse that ‘fernal Ranger! And he was using her bow too, the bastard.

She wanted that bow back. But she needed healing. She stumbled, dizzy, then stopped, bent over, hands on her knees. Everything was swimming. She closed her eyes for a few seconds, then opened them and focused solely on the trail, blocking everything else out. Healing.

Glancing up, she estimated the distance. Maybe ten paces, then the forest path, maybe 30 seconds, and she’d be there.

She tried to take a deep breath, but the deep stab of pain put a quick stop to that. Okay…just walk…I…I can do this.

She took one step toward the forest. Then another.  Another.

I can make it.

Sweat streaming down her face, she saw one of the soldiers, clutching his bloodied side. It was the man who’d passed her earlier.

“You can make it, soldier!” she called, putting as much strength in her voice as she could muster.

He stopped, hunched over like he was in pain. She took a few more steps, closer, closer. He turned toward her, holding out a hand as though to take her arm.

“Thanks.” She smiled through the haze of pain.

  He slid his arm under hers and around her back, supporting her. “Remember me?”

She gasped in surprise as Lenny’s blade pierced her ribs, and her lungs collapsed in a red tide. “You —” she managed, blood bubbling past her lips as she fell at Lenny's feet.

Lenny stood on the path, staring at her dagger, red blood dripping off the blade. She felt...almost giddy. Powerful. But…hollow. Awful. Like she had lost something, something she would never get back. She looked down at the woman, bleeding out at her feet, gasping her final breaths.

Falling to her knees, her dagger forgotten in the dirt, Lenny cradled the woman’s head in her arms. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I wish….”

No, no words now. This moment is not for me.

She stroked the woman’s hair and forced herself to not look away as her eyes closed and her breath disappeared into silence.