Chapter 60

  Above the canyon hiding Batulan-bar, the war between the Mountain Guard and Dalex’s machines went on.

  Hitasa and Lodge Mother Sarnai descended back into Batulan-bar together. As soon as they settled on flat land, Hitasa’s flying machine returned to its invisible cloud of gel, and Sarnai’s column of dirt slipped easily back into the ground. Cobblestone covered over the spot as if nothing had happened at all.

  Hitasa wanted to ask what word of power the lodge mother had used, but there were more pressing matters. “You’re absolutely sure it was the Mountain Guard?”

  Sarnai nodded. “No doubt in my mind.”

  The others were pressing around them, eager to know what was happening.

  “What did you see?” Dava asked.

  “Is it the Wolf Brigade?” Staja followed up before Hitasa or Sarnai could speak.

  “Of course it’s the Wolf Brigade,” Oyuun said. “I said it was, didn’t I?”

  “Quiet,” Metsa said, the only of the hunters actually waiting for an answer. Hitasa had a feeling that if Lodge Mother Sarnai were not there, Metsa wouldn’t be so patient.

  “It was the Wolf Brigade,” Sarnai said. “Dalex of the Expedition Seven dealt with them.”

  “I thought he wasn’t here,” Metsa said.

  “He is not,” Sarnai said, “but he left defenses behind that were enough to handle the wolves. Unfortunately, the wolves were not alone.”

  While she explained the situation to the others, Hitasa scanned her surroundings, estimating the number of people gathered in the square. Batulan-bar had a population of roughly thirty thousand. The mayor’s announcement about the blockade had brought out probably two thousand of that number, and there were others nearby, getting news from anyone leaving the square.

  The people had heard the battle outside. They did not know what the noises meant, but it had them on edge. Even now, the occasional blast of a distant explosion still reached the ears of those in the square. Dalex’s defenses continued to fight, though Hitasa was not confident they would last for much longer. She asked Ring to send another message to Dalex, letting him know the situation and that the city needed his help.

  Hitasa tuned back into the hunters’ conversation.

  “Just the Wolf Brigade meant we were dead meat,” Oyuun was saying. “What are we supposed to do about the Mountain Guard? We can’t even outrun them!”

  “Calm yourself, child,” Sarnai told her. “We are not in their bellies yet.”

  Oyuun growled but kept her mouth shut. Still, judging by their expressions, Metsa, Dava, and Staja were all just as pessimistic about their odds.

  “What do we do, Lodge Mother?” Dava asked.

  Sarnai only shook her head. “This is your revolution, Dava. Given the state of things, I’m willing to help, but—”

  Hitasa stopped listening. She walked away from the group and toward the platform holding up Mayor Meytey. His guards saw her coming and one stood in her way before she could climb the scaffolding.

  “Stay right there,” one of them said. “No one is allowed to—”

  “Ring,” Hitasa interrupted, “electrocute him with the stunner.”

  Ring appeared for just a moment to send a bolt of electricity through the dog-eared beastkin blocking her. The guard’s eyes went wide and then he crumpled to his knees, falling on his side a moment later.

  Hitasa pulled herself onto the platform. The other guards stared at her, not sure what had happened. Mayor Meytey turned to see what the ruckus was. Hitasa pushed him out of the way and took his spot at the center of the platform. A few people in the crowd gasped.

  “Who are you?” the mayor demanded.

  “Ring, amplify my voice,” Hitasa said. Her next words were three times as loud as normal.

  “Everyone!” she shouted. “Please, everyone! Can I have your attention. I know you’re all worried, but I have the solution to our problems.”

  Most of the crowd in the square had already been focused on the mayor, but those split off into smaller groups now turned to face the platform. Hitasa pulled the flier with the note scribbled across its back from her pocket and held it tightly in her right hand.

  “Please, if you will give me your attention,” she continued, making sure all eyes were on her. “I have an important announcement.”

  She gave it a few more seconds and then said, “Kirtevas writes my script across the sky” while touching the letters on the back of the flier.

  Above her head, the words Hitasa of the Perhethion, Kirtevas writes my script across the sky appeared in big bold letters. They were large enough that every person in the square could read the phrase. As they did so, and as comprehension dawned on them, the words grew. Suddenly, Hitasa’s believers ballooned to more than two thousand, and the spell increased in power accordingly. The growth only slowed when the letters dominated the sky just over the square, blocking even some of the sun’s rays, but the growth did not fully stop. The people just outside the square were starting to see the spell written on the sky.

  Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

  Voices of shock and disgust cascaded through the crowd as people realized what Hitasa had done.

  “How dare you!?” someone shouted.

  “What are you doing?” another demanded.

  Mayor Meytey again wanted to know who she was.

  Hitasa did not answer him or them. Instead, she shouted, “How many of you are tired?”

  Her voice overrode the clamor of the crowd, but they did not acknowledge her question. They continued to protest, demanding to know what she planned to do with this spell.

  “The Wolf Brigade is defeated!” she shouted.

  That got their attention.

  “What do you mean defeated?” the mayor asked.

  “Dalex of the Expedition Seven wiped them out,” Hitasa explained, her voice capturing the entire audience of the square and calming them down. “Those explosions you heard a few minutes ago? That was the destruction of the army Jean Castreier brought against this city.”

  A new murmur went through the crowd, this one carrying a haze of confusion. After all, there were explosions still occurring outside the city.

  “What you are hearing right now,” Hitasa explained, “is Drakko’s Mountain Guard. They have come to finish what the Wolf Brigade could not. Dalex is fighting them right now, but I fear he might not be able to hold them back.”

  The murmur stopped. The crowd went totally silent. Everyone knew what the Mountain Guard meant. Drakko’s army did not move without the explicit intent of bringing unthinkable death to their target. They were not hunters. They did not police or occupy cities. They exterminated Drakko’s enemies, and left ash in their wake. If they were on the city’s borders, then the fate of all Batulan-bar was sealed.

  “I ask you again,” Hitasa shouted. “How many of you are tired?”

  She found a she-elf about her own age in the audience and met her eyes. “Elves, are you not sick of being slaves? Do you not yearn to leave behind cities built by humans to live in your own forest homes? Do you not dream of living to old age? Of seeing your children play freely and grow into wise adults?”

  Hitasa next found a beastkin in the audience, a male with rabbit’s ears. “My beastkin brothers and sisters, I bear no grudge against you. The humans and dragons keep you just as surely on your knees as they do us. Have you not been forced to kowtow to these tyrants enough? You may not be slaves in name, but you are slaves in spirit. Your children are thrown away in wars between humans. They are made to fit the roles dragons design for them.”

  She took a deep breath. “And I am sure there are many of you who are tired of torturing me and my kind.”

  “What are you talking about?” an elf shouted back. “What is this?”

  Hitasa continued, “Two weeks ago, if the Mountain Guard decided to destroy the city, there is no chance they could be stopped. Whatever reason Drakko might concoct to exterminate us, they would roll over the city in a matter of minutes.” She paused and then pointed to the west, outside the city. “Dalex of the Expedition Seven has halted them in their tracks. He is fighting them this very moment. He is fighting them for us. For elves. For beastkin.”

  “He just wants the city,” one of the beastkin yelled. “He doesn’t care about us.”

  “He does care about us,” Hitasa shot back. “I have seen it. I know him. He is a good man, perhaps the only good human in all of Gaia. And the material worth of this city is nothing to him. You’ve heard of his deeds. You’ve seen the goods he can call from the sky. What use is Batulan-bar to him?”

  “What are you proposing?” another elf asked.

  “Resistance,” Hitasa said. “Revolution. On our terms. With our own hands. You know this is what Metsa of the Batulan-bar Hunters’ Lodge has been saying. There are many like her who want the same thing. I know they are among us now, just looking for a reason, a chance. That chance is right here, starting with Dalex and with this.” She pointed at the sky and the words that still lingered there. “Kirtevas writes my script across the sky. This is not my spell. It is yours.”

  Metsa herself finally came forward. “Girl, this is madness. What do you hope to accomplish by making magic to publicize magic?”

  “Ignore her,” Sarnai told Hitasa. “She is afraid.”

  Hitasa obliged the lodge mother, continuing, “For as long as I can remember, I have wanted to publish a word of power. That word was not kirtevas, but kirtevas could make it a part of my lexicon. It could do the same for everyone here. I know you are all the same as me. You all have a word of power you have longed to make real, something that would bring you wealth, glory, freedom, revenge, respect, or peace. I am offering that to you now. Everyone in this city will look up at my script and become your believer.” She was running out of breath, but there was still a little more. “Just tell me the spell you want to make, and it is yours. My only condition is that you fight alongside me.”

  She let her audience consider her request while war with the dragons waged outside their home. Every second, it came closer. Hitasa could hear it.

  But the people were quiet. They looked at her. They murmured among each other, doubting. Hitasa remembered the elves who had tried to burn her manifesto that first night. It had happened in this very square.

  “Is there no one?” Hitasa said, her voice hoarse. “The time of the dragon and human alliance is coming to an end. I have seen it. They are so easily doused. I am the bucket; you are the water. Please, help me.”

  When silence continued, she turned to look at her companions. Metsa, Dava, Staja, Oyuun, and Lodge Mother Sarnai. But, of course, they weren’t her companions. Had she even known them a week? Did they have anything that could be called a bond? Trust?

  And they were all falling into despair. They might have fought back against the Wolf Brigade. What hope was there in fighting Drakko’s personal army? Their entire resistance plan had hinged on being given the opportunity to become stronger before enemies as powerful as the Mountain Guard came to their door.

  “No one?” Hitasa said, resting back on her heels. She felt it coming, the “gray out” Dalex had asked her about.

  But she wouldn’t let it reach her. She couldn’t repeat the manifesto any longer. It had already been printed, and a copy was in Dalex’s possession. Even if she died—even if the resistance fizzled out here, slaughtered by the Mountain Guard—the words she and Sitoa wrote together would live on.

  No, even if no one else joined her, she would fight. She would use kirtevas one last time to get the spell she wanted, and then she would kill the Mountain Guards until her spirit went to join Sitoa.

  “With partaruo, even the grass becomes my blade.”

  Hitasa looked down. Staja stood at the bottom of the platform, staring up at her. “What?” she asked.

  “Partaruo,” Staja said. “It is my word of power. With partaruo, even the grass becomes my blade.”

  “Oh,” Hitasa said. A smile touched her lips. “I’m afraid I don’t know your full name, Staja.”

  “Staja of the Kunvarte,” he said, and then he spelled partaruo for her.

  Hitasa took a pen from her pocket and wrote down: Staja of the Kunvarte, with partaruo, even the grass becomes my blade. When she was done, she drew her finger across the freshly inked words and said, “Kirtevas writes my script across the sky.”

  The words hanging over the city changed, announcing Staja’s name, his word of power, and its definition. The crowd looked up and read. They read it twice. They read it three times. They only stopped when Oyuun came forward next and spoke her own secret word of power.

  https://www.patreon.com/wjeffersonsmith