Dire Sparks (Song of the Aura, Book Five) (21 page)

King Gram stepped forward menacingly. Something like a warning growl emanated from his throat. Gribly was his son, after all. High Cleric Sotheland objected in a loud voice, the candle on his staff flaring magenta with the strength of his anger. Daslite snapped something in retort, and soon the Winter siblings had joined in with vigor. Tensions had run too high, and now they were snapping like the threads of Fate.

Lauro sat back down, head in his hands. This was no way to win a war. They would tear each other apart, soon, and he could do nothing about it. His head hurt. Why couldn’t the battle just come already, and end it all?

Suddenly, something made everyone at the table stop, looking over at the Cathedral’s entrance. It was like a tug on the mind, that silenced wit and suppressed emotion, and at the same time, it was like a feeling of hope that warmed the soul to no end. Lauro looked up then back over his shoulder at the entrance, and his heart suddenly lightened.

The Gray Aura strode through, coming down the hall with steps that echoed loudly of the walls of the silent Cathedral. At his side was Gribly, still holding the staff of the Prophet. The former thief looked drawn and haggard, as if he had not slept all night, and he leaned heavily on the staff. His forehead, where the shaggy flaxen locks fell aside, was freshly bruised. He looked ready to drop… but he was smiling, too. Broadly. As was the Aura. What in…

“
My Lord Aura,” Lauro said, rising from his chair and dropping to one knee. Around him, everyone but Arlin hurried to do the same. The ranger bowed his head, clasping his hands respectfully across his chest. No matter what they might speak in private, none of the gathered generals would dare mock the Aura to his face.

“
Peace, Lauro Vale,” came the melodic voice, as Traveller halted a few feet away. Addressing the group as a whole, he raised his arms in proclamation. “Peace, you who lead the free folk of Vast. I come to you with tidings of comfort on this dark day.”

“
I would thank you for that, greatly,” Lauro said, “As we have been somewhat pressed for good news this morning.” Strange, how the high tongue came so difficultly to him now. He would have to practice with Karanel more often, if they survived this mayhem.

In response, Traveller stepped aside, actually
bowing
to Gribly as the lad stepped forward. Just what was the Prophet’s position, that he deserved deference from even the Gray Aura? It confused Lauro to no end. Gribly wasn’t
that
powerful. Was he?

“
It’s… hard to say,” Gribly began. He still looked nervous talking in front of other people, even now. “But I think we’ve hit a breaking point in this war. Traveller tells me that the time has come for him to take an active role in the defense of Vast. He’s been doing more than you all could know, but apparently it’s time for his preparations to take effect.”

“
If I may be so bold, O Prophet,” Karanel interrupted, a slightly sarcastic edge to her tone, “may I ask, what preparations have been made, exactly?” Gribly nodded. He’d expected this question… good. He was learning tact.

“
Even now,” he said, “the next wave of the Golden Army is preparing to assault us on all sides. We will fall, unless we have help. Traveller can only do so much, and if the Golden One or his Red Lieutenant were to appear, he will be needed for defense against them.”

“
So?” Karanel was less than pleased, but Gribly ignored her insolence.

“
What the enemy does not know, is that a force of our own is on the march. The Gray Aura is master of the realm of dreams… this you know, if you have followed the Old Beliefs, as you should.” Lauro wondered at that. Gribly himself hadn’t been of any religion… was he now? “The Aura has been visiting the dreams of men for some time now, in preparation. An army marches to our aid at this very moment.”

“
What army? How can we know this is not just a ploy to bolster our hopes?”

Lauro could have hit Karanel. Did her arrogance know no bounds? But Gribly just smiled.

“
The army of King Larion Vale,” he said. A shocked silence fell on them all, even Karanel. Lauro could not believe his ears… his
father’s
army? The one that had vanished, and been destroyed? Didn’t Marvol himself lead what was left of it? The White Wind? “What is more,” Gribly continued, “I will be leaving you shortly. I must travel… close by, to where… something vital to our defense is. I must retrieve it. Whether or not I will be back by the start of the battle, I do not know.”

Karanel Winter leaped up from her subservient position, a fire burning in her eyes. “This is insanity! The men look to you as a figurehead, Prophet! Are you such a coward as to abandon us on the eve of battle?”

Lauro sprang up, as did the rest of them. The prince had a rebuke ready on his lips…

…
When the pitted ceiling of the Gray Cathedral exploded as a monstrous ball of fire punched through it like glass. In a blur of light and motion too fast for reaction, it plummeted toward them…

…
Only to halt several yards too high, suspended in midair. Debris fell all around, but they were swept out of range by an invisible force.

Lauro turned, and saw Traveller standing casually behind them, one hand raised towards the inferno. He closed his fist, and the fire went out. Lauro looked again and saw that the missile had actually been one of the Golden Nation’s thunderballs, large and metal and misshapen. Without the fire, it looked like a giant floating pebble.

Traveller waved his hand, and the thunderball flew sideways, crashing to a rest far from them in the Cathedrals’ interior. Through the shattered ceiling overhead, the gathered generals could see many more thunderballs streaking through the air.

“
So it begins,” Lauro murmured. Traveller stared around the table, daring anyone else to speak out of turn.

“
Captain Arlin,” Gribly addressed the ranger, “I require two of your men to join me. This journey I travel on will be harsh but quick, and none of us may survive.”

The close call had shaken them all, but Arlin reacted quickly and effectively. “It shall be done. Daslite, fetch Raenin and Armir. Gribly, Raenin is a woman, but she will serve you better than most men. Will this be acceptable?”

“
It will,” the Prophet nodded. “And don’t worry, Daslite. Don’t leave him. I’ll get them on my own. Traveller?”

The Gray Aura stepped forward. “Now is the time, Lauro Vale. Lead your men to victory, and I will be in the skies above you. Call on me only in the most dire need, and I will answer you with fury from the Heavens.”

“
My thanks, O Aura,” Lauro nodded. He turned. “You who have gathered here… I know you all. I trust you all. My only command is this: fight for the good of us all. Fight in whatever way you see fit, but let none of our forces stand alone against the tide. One front, one mind, one body. We will see this through to the end.”

“
I may lose faith in you, Lauro Vale,” Karanel said. All eyes turned to her, horrified. “But not today,” she finished.

“
And I thank you,” Lauro said. Without reason, he grinned. “Let’s send them back to the Blaze, shall we?”

For the moment, all others at the table seemed to vanish. It was just the two of them. The former Windmaster had a murderous glint in her eye.

“
Oh yes,” she smiled grimly, “we shall indeed.”

Lauro gazed through one of the peepholes in the Stone-Stridden barriers of rock that formed the Vastic Remnant’s first line of defense. Around him, the officers in charge of his warriors clustered at similar peepholes. The view was a sobering one.

The barrier dropped off into an almost-vertical incline, and a mile from it, spread out from side to side, as far as the eye could see, was a massive horde of golden-armored Coalskin soldiers, bearing pikes and swords, round, spiked shields, and masks of bronze. Scattered throughout were the hulking golems, like giant metal apes, gathered in groups of six each, what Karanel reported as being called Fists. Behind the golems lumbered several Thunders, battalions of the huge armored, destroyer wagons that spit thunderballs. All this he had seen before… but never in so many numbers.

“
Any ideas?” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

“
If only they didn’t have the Hearts and Wraiths,” Morr mused beside him, “we could make short work of the soldiers and war machines. Pit Striders… bah. Hate them.”

Morr was one of the older rangers, and for some reason Arlin had assigned him to tag along in Lauro’s entourage instead of fighting with the main body of the rangers. Interestingly enough, Gram had sent him an emissary, too, early on. Maybe the men were to spy on him. Maybe not. It didn’t matter. The factions would hang together… or they would hang in pieces.

“
Indeed,” Lauro agreed, keeping his gaze on the peephole. “The Wraiths are worse, though. I can block fire, but only if I see it coming.” Wraiths were Pit Striders using shadows and stealth to attack. He had lost several good officers to their assassins’ ways.

“
But the common soldier’s worst enemy is a Heart,” Morr countered. The idle banter helped keep away the inevitability of the coming attack. “Wraiths won’t bother with a grunt like they will a king … but Hearts, they just burn us as we come. Blasted flame-Striding.”

Lauro grinned. “They haven’t got you yet, though. And that’s got to mean something.”

Morr smiled, showing a mouth full of toothless gaps. “Heh heh. No indeed. Ain’t a Strider alive who can best the Hurler.” He patted the strange wooden-metal weapon that all rangers apparently carried on their persons in wartime.

Lauro grimaced. Fire-hurlers had saved his life on two occasions, but they still made him uncomfortable. He suspected most people felt the same around inventions originally made by the traitorous Red Aura. Rumor said fire-hurlers were witchcraft… but he knew they were far, far worse than that. Machines were far more deadly than imaginary sorcery.

Something caught his eye amid the seething horde beyond no-man’s land.

“
Best keep that Hurler out of the way, Morr,” he said tensely. “Another volley’s coming.”

“
I see ‘em,” the ranger replied, stepping back from the peephole and looking skyward. “We’ll have to…”

Whatever he said next, the roar of thunderballs drowned in an instant. Lit aflame, they burst from the line of destroyers behind the main body of Coalskins, zipping through the air with a deadly hissing, shrieking noise. Half of the volley arced upward like slow arches of fire, falling to earth behind and amongst the three forces gathered at the hill’s crest. It would take them several seconds to arrive, in which Lauro hoped the Sky Striders would be able to prepare. Former Wind Striders had found their abilities greatly increased in recent months, just as he had. Hopefully it would be enough.

The other half of the volley careened straight into the stone barricades and the inclines below them.

“
STEADY!” Lauro roared, hoping the rear ranks would hear the warning… and then the thunderballs hit.

The earth shook with such force that every man of the army was thrown to the ground. There was no feeling but pain and shuddering instability. There was no sight but the sight of shattering earth and spraying stone. There was no sound but the roar of flame and the thunder of metal on rock.

Lauro, of course, did not fall as the rest. The moment before impact, he had stepped off the ground and into the air. It was only a foot or so, yet it kept him from being affected by the powerful kinetic force of the explosions. He’d learned the trick from previous encounters; unfortunately, it wouldn’t protect him from the explosions themselves the same way.

A ball of orange flashed out below. Lauro cursed internally as the world shuddered around him: a thunderball was heading right towards-

BOOM!

He twisted in the air, flipping in place to create a Striding-shield of air around his body. The barricade directly to his left exploded in a tumult of red-hot stone as the thunderball actually broke through. Deadly shards and chunks of rock flew in all directions, killing men and mortally wounding others. Lauro felt several strike his air-shield and rebound off into Aura-knew-where. The thunderball was slowed considerably, but it still managed to plow through a rank of unlucky soldiers before coming to a complete stop.