Spellship: The Magitech Chronicles Book 3 Page 3

  2

  Hunting Binders

  You’re certain this is it?” Aran whispered. He crouched behind the redwood’s thick trunk, peering at the manor about fifty meters away. The high, keening wind covered any sound the company’s approach might have made.

  He still thought of them that way, though they were little more than a squad now.

  “This is the place,” Nara whispered back. She dropped down next to him, planting her back against the tree.

  Unlike him, Nara was encased in her Mark V spellarmor. So were Crewes, Bord, and Kezia, though they waited in a small stand of trees near where they’d parked the ship. Frit stood a few meters away, crouched down next to a root. The ground near her feet had already begun to smolder. She avoided eye contact with Aran. With everyone really.

  The strange mage wasn’t too social, and Aran had no idea what to make of her yet. Nara vouched for her, and right now that was all that mattered. Still, part of his mind bristled at the little collar of bright runes around her neck. Forcing people to fight seemed to be the Shayan way, and, as a direct victim of that practice, Aran sympathized with Nara’s friend. It wasn’t right.

  Frit was the only other person in their squad without spellarmor, as apparently her species was notoriously difficult to kill. Aran, on the other hand, had no such protection. He wore a simple set of matte black body armor that left his face bare. It might stop an acid bolt. Once, if he was lucky. But it didn’t allow him to communicate with the company, or any of a hundred other useful things spellarmor could do.

  For the millionth time, he wished he still had his Mark XI. Instead, he had an uncomfortable metal contraption clipped to his ear. A comm, Pickus had called it.

  Aran leaned around the tree, scanned the manor for an instant, then leaned back. “There are four visible guards, all standing along the wall ringing the inner manor. Standard Mark VII armor. All tech mages, I’m betting. The real talent will be inside.”

  “How do you want to play this?” Nara whispered. Her helmeted face turned in his direction.

  “Quick and dirty. We’ve only got a few minutes until Ree hears about this. The instant that happens…”

  He trailed off as a cluster of spellfighters screamed into view overhead. The golden fighters came in hot, blazing away at the manor with their spellcannons. Wood exploded along the upper level of the veranda, abrupt screams quickly drowned out by the explosions.

  Several fat light bolts sizzled into the defending tech mages, obliterating a pair of them. The fighters continued past and out of sight, the whine fading as they turned for another pass.

  At least a few of those screams probably came from innocent servants. Aran could confront Ree about it, but she would simply chalk it up to collateral damage. There was no reaching her through the wall of thick, Shayan superiority.

  “That woman just loves ruining my day.” Aran rose and turned back to the rest of the squad, raising a fist in the air. He could have used the comm. Pickus claimed it was difficult to decrypt comms, but he admitted it was possible for anyone listening to pick up the transmission. Aran just didn’t trust the damned device.

  Nara sketched a dream sigil, then interwove a fire. A cloud of dazzling motes zipped off into the house.

  “What was that?” Aran asked, not recognizing the spell.

  “If Grahl is here, that spell will find him for us, so I can guide us. You ready to move?” She crouched on the other side of the root.

  Aran briefly considered waiting, but Crewes and the others would have to catch up. They didn’t have time to wait, not after Ree’s little stunt. “Let’s do this.”

  Aran sprinted from cover, using a bit of air to vault over the high outer wall. He gained just enough clearance to sail over the top, then landed lightly on the mossy forest floor inside the manor grounds.

  Nara landed on the wall above, her silver staff now clutched in one hand. A thick, purple nimbus burst from the onyx at the tip as she pointed it toward the manor’s second level, the part of the veranda that had survived Ree’s volley. “Both guards retreated inside that doorway, and my spell followed.”

  “Let’s get in there.” Aran sprinted between redwoods, weaving a path toward the manor.

  A line of light bolts stitched their way across the forest floor, forcing him to break to the left as they blasted chunks of wood from the manor house. Aran frowned up at the departing fighter as it disappeared out of sight.

  “You think it’s Ree?” Nara asked with a note of amusement.

  “Nah, she’d never be that petty,” Aran muttered sarcastically. He leapt up to the second floor, grabbing the edge of the balcony and swinging onto it. He crouched outside a pair of smoking doors that led into a dining room with a long redwood table. Gold flashed as one of the departing guards disappeared deeper into the house. “Looks clear.” He kicked the door just under the handle, and it flew inward with a crash.

  “Subtle.” Nara drifted in after him.

  “We don’t have time for subtle. Ree saw to that.” Aran moved as he explained, quickly crossing the room and pausing at the doorway the guard had disappeared through. “If Grahl is here, he knows we are, too, and he’s going to scurry into hiding. If he gets away, we’ll never catch him.”

  He dropped prone, peering under the door. A single cold eye stared right back, and for one eternal moment they just stared at each other. The eye disappeared and claws scrabbled on stone on the other side of the door.

  “Contact!” Aran rolled backward as the door exploded inward. He reached into his void pocket, snatching his spellblade as he rolled back to his feet.

  The enforcer cradled a spellrifle in both hands, the weapon scored and scratched from long use. The creature snapped off a hasty hip shot, and a glowing white ball streaked toward Nara. Her hand shot up and she sketched two quick sigils. The white ball exploded millimeters from her chest.

  Aran leapt into the air, enhancing his leap with a bit of air. He planted a foot on the barrel of the spellrifle, kicking off as the enforcer’s claws slashed through the space he’d just occupied.

  He pulled void and air from his chest, and his blade crackled with void lightning. The blade heated of its own accord, growing white as the tip plunged into the enforcer’s right eye. The creature screeched, both hands shooting up to the hideous wound.

  The spell crackled into the eye socket, cooking the draconic creature’s brain inside its skull. The rifle clattered to the ground, and the beast joined it a moment later. Aran landed next to the body, panting.

  “He’s here,” Nara said excitedly. She moved to the doorway, peering cautiously through. “My spell found him in the basement, three levels down. I can feel magic down there. Powerful magic.”

  Aran scooped up the enforcer’s rifle and tossed it through the doorway, into the next room. It sailed over a railing, disappearing out of sight. Several white balls streaked up at the weapon, though the rifle was untroubled by the spirit bolts. They’d only harm the living.

  “Looks like they’re dug in.” Aran glanced back the way they’d come. “I’ll cover the doorway. Guide the others in. As soon as they’re here, give us an invisibility sphere.”

  He hated the delay, but rushing an entrenched Krox position sounded like a terrible idea—for him, anyway. Kez and Crewes were another story entirely. They could break the Krox line.

  Aran leaned cautiously through the doorway, jerking back an instant later when a spirit bolt slammed into the wall beside his head. Yeah, waiting was definitely smarter.

  Nara had disappeared back out onto the veranda to escort the company in. Aran peered cautiously through the doorway, deeper into the manor, but took care not to present a target to the snipers within.

  The manor wall above a pair of enforcers exploded inward, and the nose of a golden spellfighter punched into the room. The cockpit opened, and two war mages encased in golden spellarmor leapt out. There was nothing to distinguish the two, but Aran recognized their styles instantly.

  T
he first figure dropped down toward the Krox lines, raising a glowing blue spellshield to deflect the flurry of spirit bolts. The second figure landed in a crouch behind the first, snapping her rifle to her shoulder.

  That would be Ree.

  She fired a pair of three-round bursts, each loosing a volley of life bolts. Both sets found their targets, and though Aran couldn’t see the damage, he heard the agonized shouts as the spells cooked flesh.

  Another enforcer leapt into the room, carrying an enormous spellcannon. He aimed at Ree’s companion, who raised his spellshield defensively. A terrible green glow built in the enforcer’s barrel, and the spellcannon launched a cloud of green gas. It flowed around the spellshield, surrounding the armored war mage.

  Somehow the gas found a crack, or perhaps the spell allowed it to pass through armor. It disappeared inside, and the effect was immediate. A yell came from the figure, and its hands shot to its face as the yell became a scream, then a shriek.

  Then silence, as the lifeless figure crashed to the floor.

  “No!” Ree shrieked. She sprinted to her companion’s body, and dragged it back into cover.

  3

  In Charge

  Nara darted back out onto the still-smoking veranda, where little streamers of smoke rose into the air from the huge gaps in the wooden ceiling. She spotted the company below and waved at the others to catch their attention. Kez was in the lead, as usual. She leapt the wall, kicked off a tree, and sailed into the air onto the veranda. Her gleaming armor crashed down a few meters away, the floor splintering, but somehow holding the drifter’s massive weight.

  Kez clutched her hammer in one gauntleted hand. The head of that hammer was large enough to flatten Nara in one shot. “Come on, Bord. We don’t have time to wait for you to pick flowers.”

  Bord attempted to replicate Kez’s jump, but the apex left him about two meters short of grabbing the edge of the balcony. Nara sketched a quick void sigil, and her gravity magic pulled him up far enough to grab it.

  “I could have made that jump,” Bord protested as she set him down. “But, uh, I wanted to give you a chance to shine, is all.”

  Crewes fired the thruster on his bulky armor, landing on her other side with a heavy thump. “Play time’s over, kiddies. There’s baddies inside. Get your game faces on. No more of this godsdamned chit-chat, or you’ll get to meet angry Crewes. Do you want to meet angry Crewes?”

  “No, sir.” Kezia and Bord chorused together in sing-song voices.

  “A little help in here, people,” Aran called from the next room. His spellrifle fired a moment later, quickly answered by a pair of spirit bolts. He pulled back into cover, and moved his gaze to Crewes. “Sergeant, Ree’s in trouble down there and we’re going to bail her out. I need you and Kezia to push their right flank, hard. Make it collapse, then set up a defensive position right where they were squatting. I’m going to help Ree.”

  Nara thought Aran wore command well, and she didn’t mind admitting that it enhanced the attraction she already felt for him. He’d come a long way these last few months; they all had. They’d had to. Saving the drifters had earned them a lot of unwanted attention, and everything they did was scrutinized.

  “Nara, you have that invisibility ready?” Aran demanded, leaning out of cover long enough to squeeze off a void bolt.

  “One sec.” Nara glanced back the way they’d come. Frit waited on the grass below the veranda, staring anxiously up. Nara waved, and Frit gave a tense nod. If anything happened to her, it would be Nara’s fault. Eros had given her charge.

  She wrapped a hand around the control rod in her pocket. Theoretically it allowed her to limit Frit’s magic—or, in an emergency, to amplify that magic—but at a cost of permanently burning the ability out of her. It was a monstrous tool, and one that would never leave her pocket. She hated even touching the thing.

  Frit shifted into a cloud of smoke and brimstone, rising rapidly to the veranda. She pooled just outside the doorway, shifting back into a flaming girl a moment later. Her hair pooled around her shoulders, heat shimmers rising from every fiery strand.

  “What do you want me to do?” Frit whispered. Her features had a determined cast, but her breathing was rapid. Fast puffs of smoke came from her mouth with every breath.

  Nara took a deep breath and considered her answer. Aran and the rest of the company was the hammer. They’d smash the Krox lines. She and Frit were the artillery. If they were allowed to free cast, they’d be able to cook the backlines.

  “We’re going to rush the next room,” Nara explained. “I’ll stealth the front line, and they’ll engage the enemy. Once they do, I’ll fall back to the balcony. I need you to hold that balcony. Counter anything they throw in that direction.” She threaded a path through the wreckage toward Aran’s position. The others had all clustered around him, in preparation for her spell.

  Frit gave a tense nod, then followed, but she kept a meter or two between her and the others. Nara could talk to her about confidence later. Right now, they had work to do.

  “Get ready.” She raised a hand and sketched the invisibility sphere. Dream and air mingled, rippling outward to cover them. “We’re good.”

  “On three.” Aran raised a hand, ticking down fingers as he spoke. “Three. Two. One.”

  He leapt off the balcony, plunging out of sight. The move was doubly impressive because he wasn’t wearing spellarmor, which not only meant he was outclassed, but that he’d need to rely on his own magic to cushion his fall.

  Kez leapt next, giving a joyous whoop as she fell. Crewes jumped a moment later, his spellcannon already tracking targets. Nara leapt off, using her gravity magic to guide the armor. She zipped down, struggling to maintain the perfect position.

  She needed to be equidistant from all targets. If anyone slipped out of the spell radius, they’d become visible too soon. It was exactly the kind of finesse that made her love this job.

  She maintained the spell as they fell into a large dining room. Three Shayan tech mages in Mark VII armor were using the table as cover, exchanging shots with a figure in golden spellarmor. Ree, Nara guessed.

  Ree had taken cover behind her fighter, huddling protectively over the body of her companion. She was pinned down, with no way out that didn’t expose her to enemy fire.

  Behind the enemy tech mages stood a quartet of Krox enforcers. Two carried garden variety spellcannons, and were no different than the dozens they’d fought before. The last pair, however, were clearly figures of importance.

  The first wore midnight spellarmor, stylized to enhance his draconic nature. He wore a spellblade belted at his side, and cradled a sleek spellrifle in both arms. A war mage, then.

  The second Krox wore no armor, and carried no visible weapon. He did wear a strange sort of golden headdress, and ceremonial robes. He hadn’t cast yet, but Nara could sense the tremendous power emanating from that Krox. This wasn’t merely a true mage, but a powerful one.

  Nara waited for Aran and the others to slam into the ground, then she shot skyward as they began their assault on the Krox line. They rippled into view as they left the radius of her spell, and the enemy’s attention, thankfully, focused on them.

  She zipped back up onto the balcony, where Frit huddled. Bord stood a meter or so away, apparently trying to comfort her. That shouldn’t be surprising. She might have fiery hair and smoldering skin, but if you looked past that, Frit was gorgeous. And Bord wasn’t picky.

  “Trust me lass, we’re in the safest place. It’s my job to ward the lot of us. If a spell gets up here, I’ll make sure you’re fine,” Bord’s ingratiating voice came from inside his mirrored helmet.

  “Frit,” Nara said, landing next to her friend. “It’s time.”

  “What do you need me to do?” Frit asked, rising slowly to her feet. She peered nervously over the railing at the combat playing out below.

  Nara kept her attention off it, for now at least. It was the first time she’d had to look after anyone in a fight,
and before she found her own targets, she needed to make sure Frit knew what to do. “Concentrate your spells on the left side of the room. Wipe out the smaller targets, especially the tech mages. Once they’re all down, you can help us deal with those enforcers.”

  She tried to sound confident, though privately she was more than a little worried. Aran made short work of most enforcers these days, but they hadn’t run into a group as tough as this one in any of their missions. The war mage and the true mage were of great concern.

  “I can do that.” Frit gave a tight nod, and her gaze focused on the combat below. She raised a hand and began sketching—first a fire sigil, then a void, then another fire. Intense magical power burst up around her, a towering inferno of purplish void flame.

  Frit pointed at the table where the tech mages sheltered, and a river of purple flame rained down on the defenders. Everything it touched sizzled and hissed as the void magic weakened the internal structure, then the flames ignited whatever had survived. The spell was devastatingly effective, and when the flame passed, three of the tech mages didn’t rise. The table was nothing more than a smoldering pile of embers, and their armor was blackened and warped.

  “Nice work.” Nara clapped Frit on the shoulder. “Keep up the pressure.” Then she leapt off the side of the balcony just in time to dodge a spirit bolt. It zipped past her shoulder, toward Frit’s face. A brilliant white ward burst into existence, deflecting the bolt.

  “Stick with me, fire girl,” Bord said, moving closer to Frit. “You roast ’em, and I’ll keep ’em from roasting you back.”

  Nara briefly considered staying to look after Frit, but Bord could handle it. She had other work to do. Much as Nara might dislike her, Ree was an ally.

  Nara turned back to the combat, dropping down into cover near Ree. “Are you all right?”

  Ree’s golden armor was scorched along the left side, though she was still moving. She’d taken shelter behind her fighter, but every few moments another spell zipped past.