Rage of the Old Gods, Chapter Twenty-four: The Burning Dusk

We’re almost done.

We now come to the twenty-fourth chapter of Rage of the Old Gods, the first book of my epic science fantasy trilogy the World Spectrum. In the coming weeks, I will be posting the entire book for free on this blog. If you’re just joining us, you can get caught up with the previous chapters now.

Cover art for All the preparations have been made. All debates resolved. Dusk falls, and the final battle is joined.

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Chapter twenty-four: The Burning Dusk

Late in the day, as the sky dimmed and the sun prepared to slip behind the peaks of the Gormorra Range, smoke was spotted on the northern horizon. The alarms sounded, and the camp readied for battle.

Leha went to her tent, put on her leather armor, and attached her blade to her arm. She collected the First One crystal, hoping it would be of use, and jogged to meet the other leaders. She bade farewell to Drogin and Eranna, who would be leading the mission to overload the barrier machine. She feared for her brother, but she doubted he would have been any safer in the camp.

The mental link spread through the army, and the forces of humanity assembled. Leha, Doga, and Natoma took command of their people and led them out of the camp, to the banks of the River Sheen, to their final stand.

* * *

The Automaton Lord came to a stop. It had been moving without pause for days, but unlike a frail human, it felt no fatigue.

It swept its rage-filled eyes across the landscape, seeing the dark river that was its army, the endless trees, and the vast fires its people had created to clear their path. Through the smoke that stained the darkening sky, it saw, too, the dark green hump of the small mountain to the east. From within it, it sensed the enigmatic energy of the First Ones.

When its kind had overthrown their creators, they had sought to remove all trace of them, but they had never thought to look for an outpost in this distant place. It was a mistake the Machine King would right soon enough.

Another source of First One energy appeared to the southwest. It burst out in a wave that filled the Machine King’s consciousness. The humans had used their crystal again.

Given recent events, the Automaton Lord doubted that the humans had any First One powers to use against its people. It would not play their game. It instructed its army to ignore the crystal’s burst and cross the river at another location. They moved on ahead of the Machine King, following in the wake of the great fires.

It began moving again, striding alongside the Automaton column. After several minutes, it paused again and turned its gaze to the mountain, to the First One outpost within. It raised its left hand and fired six bursts of energy in rapid succession. The bolts tore the air with a rumble of thunder, digging into the mountainside.

The creations of the First Ones were hardy, it knew, and that assault would not have been enough to destroy the outpost. But it would be damaged, and if any of the humans had been within, they had likely been killed. Once the battle was over, the Machine King would finish the job.

It resumed its march toward the human camp. Its people had been much weakened in recent times, but it would know victory this day, it told itself. It would crush that human girl and her army. Humanity would not be allowed to usurp the Gods’ rulership of this world again.

Never again, it promised itself.

* * *

Yarnig ran through what he would have to do and focused on keeping calm. The alarm bells had rung only minutes before, and the squad that would attempt to overload the barrier machine had begun to assemble. Filled with nervous energy, he had been one of the first to arrive.

They had come to him the night before to tell him what he would have to do. He had told them he could do it, but the fact was that he had doubts. He had never attempted so complex an illusion. But the entire battle plan hinged on him, and he would do everything he could to keep it from failing.

He had been given the shield of a battle wizard, a large, lead-plated oval. It weighed heavily on his left arm, and his muscles already ached. The weight of his shield and mail hauberk coupled with the waning heat of the day made him sweat. His sword hung at his side, but he doubted he would need it. His magic would protect him.

His heart pounded with apprehension at what was to come. But he wouldn’t have traded this for his life as a royal. Now, he mattered.

A gauntleted hand clapped onto his shoulder. “Good luck,” Natoma’s gentle voice said.

He spun around and found himself staring at her kind eyes and full lips. “Good luck,” he said dumbly.

She nodded once and jogged off, her armor rattling.

The other members of his squad looked at him oddly. He blushed, but it went unseen in the orange and red light of the sunset.

Not long after, the rest of his squad arrived, an ice creature connected them, and they left the camp, their feet pounding on the soil as they jogged northward. Yarnig felt the minds of the others, especially Erik, their thoughts and concerns thrumming at the edges of his consciousness. He felt their fear, but also their determination. Today, there could be no mistakes.

Eranna and Drogin took the lead, their faces stern and expressionless. Breena and Karn followed just after them, and the rest of the squad – about thirty specially selected wizards, technicians, and soldiers – spread out in a column behind.

After several minutes, Leha empowered them with Tyzuan energy. They soon left the field behind and entered the forest. Here, the twilight was far heavier, and the air felt cooler. Yarnig’s eyes struggled to adjust to the shadows.

Through Erik, he felt a bizarre tingle of energy from the west as Leha activated the crystal.

The party came to the shores of the River Sheen. They headed east, searching for a place to cross, and soon found a suitable ford. Before Yarnig even entered the water, he felt its chill through the minds of those ahead of him. When he and Erik waded in, the cold became more intense, and his legs ached from it. Once they stepped onto the opposite bank, the balmy evening air helped to warm him, though his pants stayed damp and heavy.

They started to move again, but then Eranna and Drogin stopped. Yarnig knew Leha was conversing with them – she maintained a link with them – but he couldn’t fully understand what the three were discussing.

Leha returned to her own affairs, and Drogin and Eranna faced their comrades, sending the news through the link. The Automatons had ignored the crystal; they would cross the river farther to the east, closer to Yarnig and his group. Several people swore. They had already planned to travel eastward to avoid the Automaton fires. Now they would have to waste time going even farther east. According to earlier scryings, the barrier machine lay in a direct line north of where Leha had activated the crystal. Moving to the east would take them out of their way.

They resumed their journey with renewed fervor, running as fast as they safely could in the dim twilight. They veered to the northeast, drawing ever closer to the edge of the machines’ forest fire. The omnipresent scents of evergreen needles and moist underbrush were slowly drowned out by waves of smoke.

From a distance, all Yarnig had seen of the fire was columns of smoke, but now he saw how massive it was. It seemed to stretch for miles, a wave of red and orange that swallowed everything in its path. The smoke blackened the sky and turned the setting sun a blood red.

When they came close enough that they could feel the heat of the fire and hear its roar – they were still many minutes of Tyzu-sped travel away – they paused so that Yarnig could weave his illusion. He focused his mind and gathered the strands of light around them, spinning them into a net around his party. He clenched his fists in concentration and forged an illusion that rendered them invisible without distorting the surrounding land.

The true difficulty lay in doing it while using so little magic that the Wizard-Automatons would not be able to sense it. He soon developed a headache.

They started forward again, moving slowly at first so that he could become accustomed to moving the illusion with them. Then, they sped up, running fast to avoid the edge of the forest fire, sweating in the heat.

The fire raced through the brush with incredible speed, and it almost caught them as they passed by. But most of them, including Yarnig, had grown accustomed to the behavior of the fire during the retreat from the north, and they managed to avoid it. Yarnig fought to tame his fears as waves of heat lashed at them. He could not afford to break concentration.

They made it past the leading edge of the fire and immediately looped back around to reach the area it had already burned.

Yarnig’s mouth lolled open. A vast area, miles in length, had been burned away to nothing, leaving only endless smoky fields of ash and soot. He could not see its northern tip. During the retreat, he had caught glimpses of the devastation the Automatons had created, but now the full enormity of it dawned on him.

The others felt equally shocked. Breena was especially affected, nearly stumbling at the sheer horror of it all.

They cleared their minds and pressed on, running north across fields so hot that their feet stung.

To the south, Yarnig could distantly see the Automaton army. Bursts and flashes of magic showed that they had engaged Leha’s defenders. That knowledge spurred them to further speed. To the north, they saw the Sextamaton carrying the barrier machine. Five Wizard-Automatons stood guard around it.

If he was to let the illusion weaken, and a single machine from either group looked their way, all their plans would be ruined, and he and his companions would die. He and Erik set their jaws and focused on holding the spell in place.

They raced across the ashen fields, the smoke burning their lungs. The barrier machine grew closer, and Yarnig’s party prepared themselves for what would come next. As they came in close, they slowed to a walk. Every footfall kicked up a cloud of ash that threatened to give their position away – even Yarnig’s illusion couldn’t compensate for all of it – and running only made the problem worse.

Yarnig surveyed the dark forms of the Automatons, sweating from more than heat and exertion. The machines seemed worn and weather-beaten – their armor was dirty, and they showed signs of wear and tear. He sensed Drogin think of all the various forms of maintenance they needed.

They came to the foot of the old Sextamaton. Its broad, six-legged form reminded Yarnig of a beetle. Before the Automaton revolt, Sextamatons had carried compliments of human soldiers, usually armed with crossbows, and this one still had a number of platforms on its back, near the barrier machine. He and his party took a deep breath, gathered their strength, and leapt onto the nearest platform, Tyzu’s energy propelling them upward as Yarnig let the illusion fall away.

The platform lay a few feet away from the rings of the barrier machine, and it was studded with automated crossbows designed to fire at people below – they could not target things on the platform, luckily.

The moment they landed, they spun about and unleashed a barrage of magic and crossbow bolts against the two nearest Automatons. One stumbled, a concerted attack tearing a hole in its neck. Yarnig sent out a disc of magical energy – something the Clanspeople had taught him – and it arced through the hole and into the machine’s chest. It fell, crashing against one of the Sextamaton’s legs and causing the humans to stumble.

Then the Automatons retaliated, nearly overwhelming Yarnig and the other wizards with a wave of burning energy. Leha soon weakened them with the energy of Sy’om, but he and the other wizards still fought hard to maintain their shields.

Drogin searched the floor for a hatch into the interior of the machine. He found one that had been sealed, but he cut it open with a beam from his wand.

“Come on!” he said, kicking the hatch aside with a clanging of metal.

The party filed through the hole, the wizards slowly retreating and shrinking their shield. Yarnig was the last to go through, his body shaking with the exertion of holding the protective magic. He would have died if the wizards below had not given their own energies to reinforce it.

He tried to jump into the hole, but it became more of a fall.

Breena and a few of the other wizards had lit their staffs to illuminate the dim interior of the Sextamaton. The austere cabin still held all the chairs and handrails that had once serviced its human crew, but a series of thick supports had been placed between the ceiling and the floor in the center of the chamber, below the barrier machine. Drogin shook his head disapprovingly at the hasty nature of the welds.

The wizards split into two groups. Half, led by Drogin and including Breena, gathered around the center of the cabin. They produced quartz crystals wrapped with silver wire and shut their eyes in concentration as they began altering the barrier machine. The other half, including Yarnig and Erik, worked on keeping their shield across the hatchway. The Automatons’ attacks had become subtler, but that made them no less deadly.

Eranna and her soldiers paced nervously, radiating frustration through the link.

The task took only minutes, but it felt like an eternity to Yarnig. Even with Leha evening the odds, the Wizard-Automatons were incredibly strong, and it took great effort to ward off their attacks. The battle between humans and machines made the cabin grow stiflingly hot. Yarnig’s head throbbed, and his and Erik’s bodies begged for rest. But Yarnig would not give in. This was his chance to prove himself, and he would not fail.

Finally, Drogin’s voice echoed through the link. It’s done.

Almost immediately, the energy in the cabin changed. Via Erik, Yarnig sensed the barrier fade and the machine draw vast amounts of energy to it. The air in the cabin soon buzzed with energy. The Sextamaton was now the center of a new jumping point to Tyzu.

Breena raised her staff, and the party vanished in a burst of light. They would make for the first of the ziggurats they planned to target.

They left behind Yarnig and Erik, who would be returning to the camp. They tensed as they dropped the shield, shifting their efforts and jumping away moments before the Automatons’ spells slammed into the floor where they had stood.

Moments later, the barrier machine began to emit an ominous whine.

* * *

They started with fire.

The forest fire spread to the opposite bank of the river, and the machines used their magic to fan the flames, sending hot embers and choking smoke to assail Leha and her people. The fact that the crystal had not lured the Automatons had meant that they were already off kilter – they had barely settled into their new position when the Automatons arrived – and now dozens of small fires started on their side of the river, further disrupting them. The human wizards contained the fires with their magic, but it kept them distracted.

Then, the fires cleared, and the Automaton attack began in earnest. They started draining energy from the river, and they hurled it at their human opponents. It was all Leha’s wizards could do to protect against the bombardment. They couldn’t launch any significant assaults of their own. The fury of the magical conflict roared in Leha’s ears and set off further fires within the trees around her.

As time wore on, the human wizards faltered, and dozens, then hundreds, died at the hands of the machines’ spells. Leha watched helplessly as her people perished. She could not cross the river; the magic was too fierce. A few crossbow bolts made it through the raging energy, but they did little to weaken the machines.

Leha listened to the screams and felt the heat of the fires. She debated whether to sound the retreat.

Drogin’s voice entered her thoughts. It’s finished. Pull back!

She sent him her gratitude and ordered all her people back to the camp. They leapt into action without hesitation, the combined powers of Tyzu and fear driving them out of the burning woods and onto the field around the camp. Leha led her people behind the earthworks, the acrid smoke of the fire still lingering in her nose.

As they took up their positions, bursts of light flickered through the camp as wizards dispatched the squads that would seek to destroy the cities of the Automatons. Other wizards focused their efforts on evacuating the noncombatants. There was no way that all, or even most, could make it to safety – time was short, and the wizards needed to save their energy for the battle – but they hoped to spare a few hundred.

Distantly, she sensed the minds of the squad leaders on the other worlds as they breached the barrier and began their attack on the ziggurats. By now, they understood the barrier well enough to breach it without her aid, though only with great effort and at great risk.

She climbed to the top of the first earthwork and turned her gaze to the north, where the fire continued to spread through the forest on both sides of the river. The Automatons had begun to cross the Sheen. They clustered on the shore, waiting for more of their force to make the crossing.

She held her breath as she waited for the barrier machine to detonate. Every Automaton that came across the Sheen brought her closer to their charge, closer to failure. But as long as they stayed close to the shore, there was hope that they would be caught by the explosion.

She channeled Tyzuan energy to where to she knew the machine to be, hoping to accelerate its end.

A light far brighter than the sun flared into life to the north. It expanded outward, devouring the countryside in a flood of blinding energy, and a roar greater than the greatest battle shook the earth and stabbed into Leha’s ears. She shielded her eyes from the glare, and a wave of hot air slammed into her, knocking her into the second earthwork. Through the link, she sensed the blast batter and topple those near her.

When the assault on her senses ended, she stumbled to her feet, brushing dirt from her armor. Around her, soldiers blinked their eyes and stumbled back to their stations. She scrambled back atop the first earthwork and gazed north, her heart pounding in anticipation.

The blast had boiled the river, and a dense fog hung over the north, mingling with the smoke from the fire. She enhanced her eyes and tried to sift through the murk.

Something stirred in the mist. Her face fell. The Automatons had survived.

But as the fog cleared, she saw that they had not done so unscathed. The machines on the far bank, nearly a third of their force, had been reduced to nothing but a field of burning slag. The river had absorbed some of the blast’s force, but many of the closer machines had also been damaged or destroyed. All told, roughly half of the Automatons had fallen.

Leha allowed herself the hint of a smile, returning her eyes to normal. The odds had been evened. Now, her people had a chance.

Minutes later, as the last hints of the sun disappeared behind the mountains, the machines charged, the Automaton Lord leading them from behind the front ranks.

Leha’s people launched everything that had at them. The trebuchets and catapults hurled boulders and volleys of smaller stones. Leha enhanced their flights with the power of Tyzu, and they smashed into the machines with terrible force, tearing bodies, smashing armor, and crushing heads. The battle wizards, also empowered Tyzu’s energy, lashed out with every spell they could muster, the light of their attacks flickering across the land. Breena’s wards burst up from the ground, hurling the machines off balance. Some picked themselves up, but others smashed into their comrades or the ground with enough force to cripple them. Some had the misfortune of falling into the great trench.

Still, the machines pressed forward, spreading out to come at the camp from multiple sides. Their magic met that of Leha’s army, and many of their spells slipped through the shields and blocks to blast the camp’s defenses.

The feedback weapons darted around the edges of the camp. With the aid of Leha’s abilities, they burned any Wizard-Automatons unfortunate enough to come within range.

As the battle raged, the sun set, and evening became night. But the fires continued their march through the forest, surrounding the camp in a ring of roaring flame, and their light created a new and eerie twilight.

The Automatons drew close to the camp, and Leha’s people could no longer mount their defense entirely from a distance. Leha, Doga, and Natoma charged forth from behind the earthworks, leading soldiers armed with swords, axes, narviks, and other weapons of close combat.

Leha gave herself to the primal fury of combat, and all sense of time fled from her. She fought until her limbs ached, and her skin shone with sweat. She fought until ash coated her face, and she could no longer remember a world without smoke. She fought until her venom glands threatened to run dry, and her throat hurt from screaming. She fought until countless cuts and burns marred her body, and her skin stung from the heat of flames and magic.

And still she fought.

Over time, she came to realize that the Automatons struggled with nearly as much ferocity as she. It made sense, she realized. By now, they surely knew of the attacks on the ziggurats. They fought with desperation.

Through the link, Leha also experienced the battle through the eyes of Doga and Natoma.

To the west, Doga had exhausted his supply of javelins, and he fought with a pair of silver-edged hatchets, leaping between the machines with an agility that almost rivaled Leha’s. She felt fear mingle with exhilaration within him as he struggled to hold the line against the Old Gods. She felt his heart pound as if it was her own.

To the east, Natoma danced through the battle, swinging her sword in arcs as beautiful as they were destructive. She had focused entirely on the moment, and no fear or hesitation could claim her.

Though she was not directly linked to him, Leha also saw much of Yarnig. She hardly recognized the figurehead emperor she had met all those months ago. He wielded Erik’s magic with awe-inspiring skill, and Automaton after Automaton fell before him.

The Automaton Lord stayed at the edges of the conflict. It would pick opportune moments and then charge in to deliver devastating spells or crushing physical assaults, before barreling back to safety. Leha gritted her teeth in frustration every time her people failed to catch it.

The very earth shook beneath the raging conflict.

And still, Leha fought.

* * *

Eranna raised her crossbow, and fired.

The Automatons came at them from all sides, the entire population of the ziggurat coming down upon them. Even the Worker-Automatons hurled themselves at her people.

Eranna’s squad was hard pressed to protect Drogin and the others as they modified the barrier machine buried beneath their feet. If it not for Leha’s powers and the element of surprise, they would not have had a chance.

An Automaton burst through the battle wizards’ defenses and charged the squad. Reloading, Eranna swung around and took aim at its knee. The bolt struck a weak point in the armor, and the joint crumpled. The Automaton fell hard, smashing into the flat surface of the ziggurat with a mighty crash.

Karn dropped his crossbow and rushed in. He drew a silver-edged short sword and attacked the machine’s face, his cuts spraying sparks and reeking smoke.

Eranna reloaded again. She fired at a Worker-Automaton rushing in from her left. The bolt pierced the machine’s head, and it collapsed.

As she swung back to the right, a brilliant light burst to life a few miles out from the ziggurat, momentarily distracting her. In addition to the ziggurats, Leha had ordered the destruction of as many major machine settlements as possible. That flash had been an Automaton mining encampment.

The Tor soldier turned her crossbow on another machine. She had begun the war as an invader. It seemed somehow appropriate that she should end it as one.

Okay. Let’s go, Drogin sent through the link.

Eranna and the others clustered together. The wizards raised their staffs, and they flashed out of existence, on their way to the next ziggurat.

* * *

At some point, the machines had broken through the camp’s defenses to the northwest, though Leha could hardly remember it happening. The breach had plunged both armies into anarchy, and the battle had lost all semblance of order.

Leha raced into the camp and placed herself before the advancing Automatons, calling all available forces to her. The Automatons had carved into the civilians taking refuge within the camp, and she sought to form a barrier between the machines and their targets. All around her, people fought, screamed, or ran for their lives.

She experienced some success, especially as other fighters began to gather around her. The Automaton’s march to the center of camp halted, and several of the machines fell within the first few minutes.

A damaged Automaton twitched on the ground ahead of her. A group of Clanspeople rushed in to finish it, but a crossbow bolt flew past Leha’s right side to break through its face, shattering its artificial mind.

Leha glanced behind her to see the shooter, and to her surprise, she saw it was Benefactor.

Death to the Rock Gods! he broadcast, braying maliciously.

Leha’s chest constricted at the sight of him so close to the fighting. Get out of here! she sent to him.

He stared at her for a moment, then slunk away, though he did not go far.

She turned her attention back to the battle. Her soldiers began to push the machines back. But then she felt a terrible rumbling, a rumbling she knew all too well.

As if out of nowhere, the Automaton Lord appeared, charging through the breach in the defenses. It came to an abrupt stop not far from Leha’s forces, seeming to know that she would slow it with the energy of Sy’om. It tilted its massive head downward, its baleful eyes burning, and she felt it take her measure.

It had planned this, she realized. It had stayed at the edge of battle, avoiding any risk to itself, and waited for her and her people to exhaust themselves. She had suffered countless minor but draining injuries, broken her left-hand middle finger’s claw, and tested the limits of her enhanced endurance. It was a tireless machine, strong and ready for battle.

And it had her trapped. If she went in any direction but forward, she would leave the soft underbelly of the camp exposed to its attacks. She couldn’t do that, and the Machine King knew it. It had goaded her right where it wanted her, and now it planned a final confrontation.

So be it, she thought.

She leapt into action, bolting toward her adversary. Her forces followed and engaged the lesser Automatons, leaving her and the Automaton Lord to square off against each other. She came to a stop a few dozen feet from the Automaton Lord and screwed up her legs as if to leap at it, but then she retrieved a javelin from the dirt at her feet and hurled it with all her strength.

Surprised, the Machine King couldn’t stop her javelin, and the missile slammed into the side of its neck a metallic clang and a shower of sparks. The javelin shattered, but the Machine King was undamaged.

Leha flexed her claws in frustration, and she became aware of the sheer size of her opponent. She felt a touch of fear seep into her heart.

The Automaton Lord attacked with a bolt of magic. She summoned Sy’om’s energy to weaken it, but the spell still had enough strength to kill her.

She rolled to the side. Hot dirt and pebbles pelted her back as the spell missed. She danced backward in avoidance of the Machine King’s continued assaults. At her command, her blade shot from its housing – with Drogin absent, a battle wizard had been assigned to controlling it – and leapt forward. The moment her feet touched the ground, she jumped again, hurling herself at her opponent.

It attacked, but a nearby battle wizard shielded her. She landed on the cold surface of its right knee and attempted to cut into the seams of its armor with her blade. She noticed it still bore scars from the battle along the northern front.

The Automaton Lord continued to pound at her shielding with its magic. Sparks flew through the air, and thunder pounded in her ears,

She growled as each stab of her blade failed to make any headway. She swore. The thing was indestructible.

A jarring burst of magic from the Machine King shattered her shield and sliced across her left upper arm. Searing pain cut through the limb, and she lost her grip, slamming into the earth below. She screamed and tried rolled out of the way as spell after spell burned into the soil around her.

Sensing her distress, Doga and Natoma ran for her position, bringing whatever few troops they could spare.

Leha and the Automaton Lord struggled for what felt like hours. Leha hacked and stabbed at its armor with her blade, gouged and dug at it with her claws, and hurled rocks and debris at it, but none of it seemed to have any effect.

At the same time, the Machine King bombarded her with its magic, and her number of injuries grew. A lance of energy seared the skin of her left thigh. A glancing blow from a ball of magic burned through her armor on the right side of her abdomen. Errant sparks blistered her face. Pain throbbed through her body.

As the battle wore on, her desperation grew. The Automaton Lord wore her down more with every passing minute, and she seemed unable to do anything to harm it. Having defeated many of the nearby Automatons, squads of soldiers rushed in to aid her, but they could not accomplish anything either, and the Automaton Lord killed them by the dozen. Their deaths stabbed at Leha like a knife.

Her world narrowed until it had room for nothing but her battle with the Machine King. And in that world, she was losing.

Doga and Natoma arrived, and they and their troops joined the battle. Leha almost wanted to tell them to leave, to warn them away from the danger, but she couldn’t make herself do it.

We won’t leave you, Leha, Natoma sent.

Never, Doga added.

Leha’s heart warmed with gratitude. At that moment, she didn’t believe anyone could find friends finer than these.

Leha redoubled her efforts to bring down the Automaton Lord, and Doga and Natoma added their own, cutting into the machine’s armor with sword and hatchets. For a time, Leha allowed herself some hope that, together, they would be able to achieve victory.

But as the minutes passed, she saw that the aid of her friends made no difference. The Machine King stood as strongly as before. She and her companions launched assault after assault, but it always pushed them back.

Then, it took the advantage.

They had fallen back again, and Doga was the first to dive back into the fray. He leapt for the same knee that Leha had attacked earlier, but the Machine King struck back, a bolt of energy slamming into the Lost One’s chest before he could avoid it.

Leha watched in horror as Doga’s limp form flew backwards and slammed into the ground a few feet from her.

Her blood boiled with frustration and grief. “Why won’t you die!” she screamed.

The Automaton Lord glared at her mockingly. It raised its right hand, and the ground before Natoma exploded. She fell, and she did not get back up.

Leha let out an inarticulate howl. She made to charge, but the earth before her burst, and a rock slammed into her forehead. She blacked out.

When she came to, the Automaton Lord stood a few feet away, staring down at her coldly.

She pushed herself to a sitting position and started to reform her connections in the mental link, but a wave of dizziness assaulted her and prevented her from standing. Her head pounded, and her vision blurred slightly.

The chilling voice of the Machine King ground through her thoughts. You are the reason the ziggurats burn. You are the reason humanity still infests this world. You have been the source of great suffering for my people. It raised its right hand and pointed it at her. Now, die, vermin.

Her dizziness had begun to fade, and she tried to scramble away, summoning Sy’om’s energy to weaken the Automaton Lord, but she knew it would not be enough.

A single crossbow bolt soared out from behind her. It struck the edge of the Machine King’s eye, and a small amount of glass fell to the earth.

The machine paused, seeming disoriented.

Leha spun around. Benefactor stood on a small rise behind her, holding his crossbow.

The Automaton Lord’s eyes flashed with anger, and it pointed its hand at Benefactor.

“No!” Leha cried.

A bolt of magic leapt from the great machine’s wrist and tore the air above Leha’s head. But as it raced for its target, the spell slowed and bent, turning back on itself. It looped around and struck its source at the Machine King’s wrist. The plates of silver shattered and rained down on the earth below, leaving a dark hole in the glittering bracelet at the base of its hand.

Leha looked about and spotted Yarnig off to her right, his hand held high in the air. Erik stood a pace behind him, his staff raised.

The Machine King made to retaliate, but Yarnig was not finished. The fire at its wrist did not die away. Instead, it spread between the silver plates and through the weak points in its armor, dissolving its hand and forearm in a slow-motion cascade of burning metal.

The Automaton’s remaining wrist glowed, and its magic fought against Yarnig’s, attempting to stop the spread of the emperor’s fire. Bursts of energy split the air, and Yarnig and Erik held their leaden shields up to withstand the assault.

The Automaton Lord was distracted; Leha saw her chance. The eyes, she thought.

She came to her feet, her blade singing from its sheath. The mental link resonated with cheers and encouragement for her, but she heard none of it. She had all her focus on the task at hand.

She tensed up her legs and leapt, landing on the Machine King’s torso. Before it could react, she leapt again, soaring high into the air.

And as she soared, by the light of the fires, she saw the camp, really saw it, for the first time since her battle with the Machine King had begun. She saw the dozens – hundreds – of bodies littered at its feet. But she also saw the hundreds rushing to aid her against it. She saw the broken bodies of Automatons littered in all directions, and she saw those machines that remained fighting for survival. She saw her people charging with renewed vigor, laying the final blows against their enemies.

She had not noticed any of it before. She had even ignored the information granted through the link, paying only enough attention to know what energies to channel where. But now she knew the truth.

Victory was at hand.

She slammed onto the face of the Machine King, her claws digging into the gaps in its armor. She pulled herself before its undamaged eye and stared into its hateful depths. “You’re not coming back a second time.”

She pulled her arm back and stabbed her blade through the glass of its eye. And she stabbed again. And again.

The Automaton Lord ceased battling with Yarnig to turn its power against her. Magic crackled and sparked all around her. Her flesh blistered and charred, but she fought through the pain, stabbing until her blade gouged deep holes in the Machine King’s artificial mind, and the light went out in its eyes.

The magical bombardment abruptly ended, and Leha released her grip on the machine, falling backward.

She was unconscious before she hit the ground.

———————

Enjoying the story so far? The next chapter will be posted soon, but if you can’t wait, you also have the opportunity buy the full ebook now!

Rage of the Old Gods, Chapter Twenty-three: For Humanity

We now come to the twenty-third chapter of Rage of the Old Gods, the first book of my epic science fantasy trilogy the World Spectrum. In the coming weeks, I will be posting the entire book for free on this blog. If you’re just joining us, you can get caught up with the previous chapters now.

Cover art for The final clash between Gods and humans is days away, but first, there is another conflict that must be resolved. Leha cannot lead a divided army. They must determine their course: to embrace hope, or pragmatism; to fight for the now, or for the future; to save themselves, or save humanity.

———————

Chapter twenty-one: For Humanity

The next day, Leha awoke not long after dawn, her eyes feeling tired and gritty and her muscles feeling weak. The weather was hot and sticky, and its oppressiveness made her feel trapped. She ate her breakfast without tasting it and then asked around those loyal to her to see if anything had changed.

Nothing had.

Leha wracked her mind for some solution to this deadlock, but she thought of nothing. She still worried about what the consequences of passing on her powers might be, but she didn’t think anything else would settle this.

Needing to talk to someone, she crossed the camp – ignoring the looks and whispers that followed her – and found Benefactor in his tent. Pelts and plant fiber rugs from Sy’om covered the ground in the tent – there were no other furnishings or decorations – and it had a vague earthy smell that reminded her of the caves he’d come from.

His crossbow and set a of custom-made armor rested against one wall. Leha hoped he would not have to use them. He wanted to, but she had convinced him to stay off the front lines. She unburdened herself to the alien, often speaking even though he read it all from her mind.

I understand why the others feel as they do, but I understand you and your stance as well, he said when she had finished. His voice had never regained its old sparkle and verve after the machine attacks on Sy’om.

He turned his head at an odd sideways angle. The eye facing Leha was unfocused. It is true the future will not matter if we lose this battle. He looked at her and quirked his head. But it is also true that these decisions should not be made without great thought.

He rubbed the fur on his oblong head and glanced up. This world is very hot.

He turned back to her. I cannot say what is right. My people never harm each other. We feel others’ pain as our own. Among my kind, this would be no concern. But humans are very different. Your history shows that you must be cautious in giving yourselves new weapons that could be used against your own kind.

She nodded sadly. She briefly thought of trying to give her powers to some of Benefactor’s people, but there was no way of knowing what effect the venom would have on so alien a creature.

He set his jaw. I wish I could help, Leha.

She sighed. “That’s all right.” She stood and gave him an understanding smile.

He returned the gesture by baring his black teeth.

She left, still tormented by her indecision.

The rearguard returned just after noon. They reported that the Automatons were not far behind them, and that they would likely arrive some time the next day. Leha felt ready to scream with frustration. The machines were a day away, and she didn’t even know if she could count on people to follow her orders.

Eranna and Doga met with her briefly to offer their support and sympathy, then left to try and shore up support for her.

Before he left, Doga said, “Do not blame the people who disagree with you too harshly. They’re doing what they think is best.”

She thanked him, but in truth, his words only worsened her feelings of uncertainty. She knew he was right, but she wished he wasn’t. It would be easier to think of all those against her as greedy and selfish.

She paced randomly around her tent for what felt like hours, trying to decide what she should do. She considered getting an ice creature to link her to Lahune, who had evacuated to Tyzu, but she didn’t think he would have anything to say that had not already been said. All the arguments had been laid out; she needed to find a way to resolve them.

Every time she felt ready to acquiesce and allow others to be given her powers, something inside her stopped her from doing it. It felt wrong. She felt like she should reach for the idealistic solution, the moral solution. But part of her worried that the idealistic solution would turn out to be the wrong. Perhaps, with so much on the line, practicality should reign supreme.

Time passed slowly, and her frustration and indecision grew to almost unbearable levels. She had to take action, she knew. Time was running out.

At last, she came to the conclusion that she had to listen to her conscience. She had to pick the choice that she would be able to live with – or die with. She would stand by her principles; there would be no others like her.

Immediately, doubt and misgivings assailed her, but she forced them away. A decision had to be made.

Next, she turned her mind to finding a solution to the deadlock that had gripped the camp. She had to try to convince the people of her way of thinking. She had to address them; she had to win them over. In truth, there were no other options.

With the aid of Benefactor and his people, she spread the word that she would make her case one last time. A vast assembly began to take shape in the center of the camp. While her people came together, she sat in the close, sticky confines of her tent and planned what she would say. She thought back to her books and tried to put together the most elegant wording for her address.

It took nearly an hour for the assembly to come together. Virtually everyone in the camp attended; only those who could not possibly leave their work in preparing the camp’s defenses were absent. Leha took some hope from the fact that people were still willing to hear what she had to say.

When all the preparations had been made, she departed her tent and made her way through the nearly silent camp, circling around to come at the crowd from the west, the only direction it didn’t extend in.

She reached the center of the camp and found Doga, Eranna, Drogin, Benefactor, and Natoma waiting for her by a stack of crates, the stage she would speak from. She greeted them quickly, and they offered her their support and encouragement. She thanked them.

The five others went to stand before the crates. Leha took a deep breath, and scaled her makeshift stage. She didn’t know what she would do if this failed. Perhaps she would give in after all. She hoped with all her being that that would not be the outcome.

The crowd stretched out in front of her like a giant carpet of people. The rows between the tents were packed, and the hum of voices washed over her like waves from the ocean. As she took her position, the crowd focused their eyes on her, and the hum quieted somewhat. She felt the weight of their attention bombard her. It reminded her of the Watcher.

At the base of the crates, in a small open space between her and the crowd, her companions had formed themselves into a crescent. Benefactor stood directly beneath her, Eranna and Doga formed the wing to her left, and Drogin and Natoma stood to the right. All wore expressions of calm determination.

Leha enhanced her voice and lungs to allow herself to be heard by all who had come to see her.

“You all know why this assembly has been gathered,” she began, her voice cutting cleanly through the moist air. “Many of you – most of you – believe that I should grant to others the same powers and abilities that I have. I understand why you want this, and while I don’t believe that it would be the right thing to do, I don’t know if it can be called wrong, either.

“The machines are coming to destroy us, and we will need every advantage if we are to survive. I won’t deny that having more people with my abilities would be an advantage.

“But there are other things that need to be considered.”

She paused, letting her words sink in. Her heart pounded fiercely, and she felt surprised that her voice hadn’t faltered yet.

She turned her head slowly, taking in the whole of the assembly. “How many of you will go into battle tomorrow, believing that we will fail? Is that the attitude we should have? Or should we face the Automatons with the belief that victory is possible, that it is within our grasp if we fight hard enough for it?”

The crowd murmured uncertainly.

“We have to believe that we can win. Otherwise, we might as well give in to the machines right now. And if we will fight with the belief that we can come out of this war alive, then we must also plan for the future.”

She paused again as the crowd hummed to itself.

She fought to hide the fear she felt and spoke with all the strength she could muster. “I ask you all, whom are we trying to save? Are we trying to save ourselves, or are we trying to save the human race?”

The people chattered more loudly. She thought she was having an impact, but she couldn’t be sure.

“If it is the latter, then we must consider the future. We must consider the consequences of our actions. We cannot make decisions simply for today; we must make decisions that won’t bring us and our descendants harm later on. We have to fight for everyone in the north and everyone on the other worlds. We have to fight for every man, woman, and child who will ever be born.”

Now, the people had grown silent. They watched her with rapt attention. Her nerves tingled nervously.

“If we fight for all humanity, yes, we have to fight for ourselves as well. If we fail, humanity fails. But if we fight for humanity, we also to have fight for the future, and we have to make certain that none – none – of our actions can damage that future.”

She counted to ten, hoping desperately that this would work. Within the crowd, some groups muttered to each other intensely while others stayed deathly silent.

She reached ten, and fixed her eyes upon the assembled masses. “So I ask you, whom are we fighting for? Do we fight for ourselves, or for humanity?”

Patches of people scattered throughout the throng answered her. “For humanity!” they cried.

It was just a small number, but a moment later, their sentiment spread. Thousands of voices joined together, calling out, “For humanity!”

The words washed over Leha like the first rain after a long drought. She drank them in, joy warming her like the first rays of sun after a long night. Not everyone had added their voice, but a majority had, enough had. She had convinced them.

A brilliant smile lit up her youthful face. She raised her right hand into the air. “For humanity!” she echoed.

Her supporters in the crowd cheered and shouted, raising their fists above their heads.

She let their adulation wash over her. She leapt off the crates and joined her friends, who clapped and smiled. Benefactor brayed and radiated pride and happiness. Drogin grinned and hugged her. He said something, but she lost his words amid the tumult. It didn’t matter; his tone told what she needed to know: he was proud of her. When her brother released her, Natoma hugged her as well, and Doga slapped her on the back and congratulated her. Eranna was more subdued, but even she clapped and added her congratulations.

Leha grinned and waved at her people, hoping to show some of the gratitude she felt.

* * *

That night, Leha, Doga, Drogin, Eranna, Natoma, and Benefactor gathered in the command tent to make their final plans for the defense of the camp. The sun had set, and they stood in the preternatural light of two Clan lanterns. The air had cooled, and the humidity had changed from oppressive to refreshing. The air smelled of moist grass.

They looked over a roughly drawn map of the camp, searching for any weakness in the defenses, and they went over their plans, making sure there were no problems.

They were discovering flaws in their plan to delay the Automatons at the River Sheen. They had no way of knowing where the machines would attempt to cross, so they could not set up any of the war engines or fixed defenses they were building around the camp. They could try and use the First One crystal to lure them, but there was no guarantee they would once again fall for it.

They tried to come up with something to improve their chances at the river, but they failed, so they decided to move on to other matters for the time being.

Leha leaned on the table. “How are we doing on the feedback machines? Will they be ready in time?” she asked Drogin.

He nodded. He had dark circles under his eyes, and his hair was disheveled. “One’s ready now, and the other will be finished by sunrise.”

“Good,” Leha said.

She began to discuss the earthworks with Doga and Eranna. The workers were putting the finishing touches on them.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Drogin’s eyes widen. He began to scribble calculations in a margin of the map.

“What is it?” she asked.

He looked up. “Feedback. We can destroy the barrier machine the same way we destroy the Wizard-Automatons. We overload it. It’s already pushed to the limit; it won’t take much.”

They all turned their attention to Drogin.

Leha furrowed her brow, straightening. “How would that work? I thought their power was spread out; don’t the feedback machines need a focused spell to hijack?”

He nodded. “Yes, they do. But we won’t use a feedback machine,” he said excitedly. “Barrier machines have a very basic intelligence. They’re set to funnel energy through themselves to smooth out the magical currents and eliminate jumping points. They have a set amount of energy that they channel; this one’s been set to channel as much as it safely can.”

He gestured animatedly. “We’ll change it. We’ll set it to channel more than it can handle.”

“How is that possible?” Eranna said, looking as confused as Leha felt.

“One concern technicians like me had back when we used Automatons was that someone else would take them over. That’s why we keyed them to specific control amulets; that’s part of why we insulated them with lead. It probably couldn’t have happened; their minds are very strong, we know now.

“But barrier machines are different. Their minds are weak, meant to be controlled. And they don’t have any of the safeguards against hijacking that Automatons do. I saw that when I first studied them. I didn’t think it mattered at the time. To control them, you have to be close, and when you’re close, you can just destroy them.”

Natoma folded her arms. “So you’re saying that our technicians will be able to overload it if they get close enough?”

Drogin nodded. “We’d probably need the help of some wizards, but yes.”

“But if we can get in that close, couldn’t we just destroy it? How does this change things?” Leha asked, still trying to recover from her brother’s jargon. She’d always had trouble understanding him when talked about his work.

“A barrier machine can channel far more energy than any Wizard-Automaton – probably even more than the Machine King,” he said, still talking fast. “If it overloads, the explosion will be enormous. They’ll be keeping it well behind their front lines, but if we time it right, the explosion has the potential to destroy their army as well as the machine.”

“Won’t their lead armor protect them?” Doga said.

“What’s to stop the blast from destroying the camp, too?” Leha asked.

Drogin answered Doga first. “If this explosion is as big as I think it will be, their armor won’t make a difference. The lead will be the only thing left.” He turned to Leha. “We’ll have to time it perfectly. It will depend on where they keep the barrier machine. But I doubt it would be able to reach the camp, and if our army is in danger, we should be able to pull them back in time.”

He sobered. “It’s a risk. But if it works, we could cripple or even destroy their army with one strike.”

Leha bit her lip. “What about the team that sets it to overload? Won’t they be killed?”

Drogin shook his head. “Once we make the changes, there’s no way the machine will be able to perform its purpose. They’ll be able to jump out.”

“If that’s the case, we might be able to evacuate more of the noncombatants,” Doga said.

Eranna agreed. “The wizards will probably have their hands full, but we might be able to save some.”

Leha studied the map on the table, hardly listening to Eranna and the Lost One. She weighed the risks and potential rewards of Drogin’s plan.

“We might be able to make this part of our plan to hold the river,” Natoma suggested. “If we hold it until the overload begins, then retreat, they might be trapped on the other side of the river.”

Leha nodded, though she had her doubts. There was too much uncertainty in this plan. She folded her arms and thought.

“Leha?” Drogin prompted after a moment.

“I’m thinking,” she said.

“I’m not sure that we have many options. In a fair fight, we’re no match for the Automatons,” he offered.

“Even if it doesn’t destroy all of them, we can send away more of the civilians,” Doga reminded her.

Leha nodded absently.

I think we should try it, Benefactor broadcast. We must take chances if we are to destroy the Automatons. His psychic voice had a hard edge to it.

Leha looked at him, feeling faintly surprised.

“All right,” she said. “We’ll try it.”

Doga and Natoma nodded. Benefactor ducked his head. Drogin scribbled more calculations.

“How are we going to get to it? We can’t jump there,” Eranna said.

Natoma glanced up. “Yarnig could slip through. He’s been practicing illusions. He should be able to conceal a small group.” There was something odd in her eyes when she spoke of Yarnig, but Leha soon forgot it amid her other concerns.

“Very well,” Leha said.

The conversation began to turn to other matters. Leha continued to think of Drogin’s plan for a moment, wishing he had thought of it before the attack on Tallatzan. They would have been able to destroy the ziggurat in a fraction of the time and with a fraction of the effort.

She looked to her brother. “Could any barrier machine be overloaded in this way?” she asked Drogin.

He peeked up from his calculations. “I don’t see why not.”

The gears of the Leha’s mind leapt into action. “Would the resulting explosion be enough to destroy a ziggurat?”

He straightened. “I imagine so. Why?”

A tingle of excitement ran up Leha’s spine. “Once the nearer one overloads, we’ll be able jump again. We could send teams to the ziggurats and overload their barrier machines. If we win this battle, most of their forces will be crushed. If we also destroy their cities, they’ll never be able to recover.”

The others glanced at each other.

“Wouldn’t it be better to wait until after the battle, after we’ve recovered somewhat?” Doga said.

She shook her head. “The machines don’t adapt easily, but they’re not stupid. Once they know what we can do to their barrier machines, they’ll put in safeguards to stop us. We have to do it all in one go.”

She took a breath and shifted her weight. “We’ll have to use fighters and wizards that we can’t afford to lose, I know. But this is too a good of an opportunity to pass up. We can annihilate the Automaton infrastructure with a single strike.”

“I agree,” Natoma said. “This has too much potential for us to not try.”

After a moment, the others added their agreement. Leha smiled a little. She began to feel hope for the coming battle.

They spent another half-hour working out the final details of their plans, and then they realized they had nothing left to say. The meeting broke up, and they, with the exception of Drogin, went to their respective sleeping places. Leha’s brother would stay up and oversee the final preparations of their weaponry and defenses. Leha wished she could take some of the load off him, but she had no knowledge of the technician’s art.

Sleep did not come to her immediately. She lay in her tent, listening to the sounds of night, and went over all the plans again in her head, searching for some flaw she’d overlooked. She didn’t find any.

She worried about what would happen the next day. She thought of all that could go wrong. But she also felt hope. Hope for victory, hope that the Automatons would know defeat, hope for a world without war.

A world without war. For so long, it had seemed an impossible, unattainable goal. To think that it was so close made her ache with longing.

As the night wore on, she thought of her worries for that future, of her desire to keep the human race united and at peace. She still didn’t know of any permanent resolution for that problem.

The recent dissent within the camp had created doubt within her, but the fact that she had won the people over gave her great hope. They could devote themselves to the future. They could choose what was right over what was best for themselves.

* * *

The moment Leha woke enough to realize what day it was, a feeling that was neither excitement nor nervousness tingled through her body.

This was it. Today would bring about the end of the war. She had no doubt of that. Either her army would fail, and the peoples of three worlds with it, or the Automatons, the Old Gods, would once again know defeat at the hands of their own creations.

There was something oddly calming in that knowledge. She no longer had to worry about the future, about the weeks and months down the road. All that mattered was what happened on this day.

The camp was quiet – almost tranquil. Virtually all the preparations had been made. Their weapons were ready; their defenses were complete. People spoke little. There was nothing left to say.

The weather was as hot as the day before, but the humidity was not as oppressive. The sun shone brightly, seeming oblivious to the storm that would soon rock the camp.

In the midmorning, Leha took a walk along the top of the inner earthwork, studying the defenses. Trebuchets and catapults thrust their arms into the air from just behind the earthworks. Their ropes swayed slightly in a breeze that carried hardly any of the mountains’ cool. Out on the cleared fields, the trench to the north yawned, and though she could not see them, Leha knew that the wards Breena had designed peppered the ground. They were keyed to activate in the presence of lead, so there was no chance of Leha’s people setting them off.

Within the camp, nearly half of the tents had been taken down and stowed so that the machines would have less targets to set afire. Water was being stockpiled for the fires that did arise. Drogin’s feedback weapons had been completed, and they rested at the eastern and western edges of the camp, behind the earthworks. Each had been mounted to a hovering cart constructed from the remnants of the Clan hall. The carts would allow the machines to stay mobile – unfortunately, they were too awkward to bring to the river. A pair of reindeer would pull each of them. The carts were covered in lead plating salvaged from the armor of Automatons to shield them from magical attacks.

All through the camp and across the earthworks, salvaged chunks of Automaton armor had been made into stationary shields; civilians and soldiers alike could use them to take cover from the machines’ magic.

All the preparations had been made. Waiting was all that remained.

The next day, Leha awoke not long after dawn, her eyes feeling tired and gritty and her muscles feeling weak. The weather was hot and sticky, and its oppressiveness made her feel trapped. She ate her breakfast without tasting it and then asked around those loyal to her to see if anything had changed.

Nothing had.

Leha wracked her mind for some solution to this deadlock, but she thought of nothing. She still worried about what the consequences of passing on her powers might be, but she didn’t think anything else would settle this.

Needing to talk to someone, she crossed the camp – ignoring the looks and whispers that followed her – and found Benefactor in his tent. Pelts and plant fiber rugs from Sy’om covered the ground in the tent – there were no other furnishings or decorations – and it had a vague earthy smell that reminded her of the caves he’d come from.

His crossbow and set a of custom-made armor rested against one wall. Leha hoped he would not have to use them. He wanted to, but she had convinced him to stay off the front lines. She unburdened herself to the alien, often speaking even though he read it all from her mind.

I understand why the others feel as they do, but I understand you and your stance as well, he said when she had finished. His voice had never regained its old sparkle and verve after the machine attacks on Sy’om.

He turned his head at an odd sideways angle. The eye facing Leha was unfocused. It is true the future will not matter if we lose this battle. He looked at her and quirked his head. But it is also true that these decisions should not be made without great thought.

He rubbed the fur on his oblong head and glanced up. This world is very hot.

He turned back to her. I cannot say what is right. My people never harm each other. We feel others’ pain as our own. Among my kind, this would be no concern. But humans are very different. Your history shows that you must be cautious in giving yourselves new weapons that could be used against your own kind.

She nodded sadly. She briefly thought of trying to give her powers to some of Benefactor’s people, but there was no way of knowing what effect the venom would have on so alien a creature.

He set his jaw. I wish I could help, Leha.

She sighed. “That’s all right.” She stood and gave him an understanding smile.

He returned the gesture by baring his black teeth.

She left, still tormented by her indecision.

The rearguard returned just after noon. They reported that the Automatons were not far behind them, and that they would likely arrive some time the next day. Leha felt ready to scream with frustration. The machines were a day away, and she didn’t even know if she could count on people to follow her orders.

Eranna and Doga met with her briefly to offer their support and sympathy, then left to try and shore up support for her.

Before he left, Doga said, “Do not blame the people who disagree with you too harshly. They’re doing what they think is best.”

She thanked him, but in truth, his words only worsened her feelings of uncertainty. She knew he was right, but she wished he wasn’t. It would be easier to think of all those against her as greedy and selfish.

She paced randomly around her tent for what felt like hours, trying to decide what she should do. She considered getting an ice creature to link her to Lahune, who had evacuated to Tyzu, but she didn’t think he would have anything to say that had not already been said. All the arguments had been laid out; she needed to find a way to resolve them.

Every time she felt ready to acquiesce and allow others to be given her powers, something inside her stopped her from doing it. It felt wrong. She felt like she should reach for the idealistic solution, the moral solution. But part of her worried that the idealistic solution would turn out to be the wrong. Perhaps, with so much on the line, practicality should reign supreme.

Time passed slowly, and her frustration and indecision grew to almost unbearable levels. She had to take action, she knew. Time was running out.

At last, she came to the conclusion that she had to listen to her conscience. She had to pick the choice that she would be able to live with – or die with. She would stand by her principles; there would be no others like her.

Immediately, doubt and misgivings assailed her, but she forced them away. A decision had to be made.

Next, she turned her mind to finding a solution to the deadlock that had gripped the camp. She had to try to convince the people of her way of thinking. She had to address them; she had to win them over. In truth, there were no other options.

With the aid of Benefactor and his people, she spread the word that she would make her case one last time. A vast assembly began to take shape in the center of the camp. While her people came together, she sat in the close, sticky confines of her tent and planned what she would say. She thought back to her books and tried to put together the most elegant wording for her address.

It took nearly an hour for the assembly to come together. Virtually everyone in the camp attended; only those who could not possibly leave their work in preparing the camp’s defenses were absent. Leha took some hope from the fact that people were still willing to hear what she had to say.

When all the preparations had been made, she departed her tent and made her way through the nearly silent camp, circling around to come at the crowd from the west, the only direction it didn’t extend in.

She reached the center of the camp and found Doga, Eranna, Drogin, Benefactor, and Natoma waiting for her by a stack of crates, the stage she would speak from. She greeted them quickly, and they offered her their support and encouragement. She thanked them.

The five others went to stand before the crates. Leha took a deep breath, and scaled her makeshift stage. She didn’t know what she would do if this failed. Perhaps she would give in after all. She hoped with all her being that that would not be the outcome.

The crowd stretched out in front of her like a giant carpet of people. The rows between the tents were packed, and the hum of voices washed over her like waves from the ocean. As she took her position, the crowd focused their eyes on her, and the hum quieted somewhat. She felt the weight of their attention bombard her. It reminded her of the Watcher.

At the base of the crates, in a small open space between her and the crowd, her companions had formed themselves into a crescent. Benefactor stood directly beneath her, Eranna and Doga formed the wing to her left, and Drogin and Natoma stood to the right. All wore expressions of calm determination.

Leha enhanced her voice and lungs to allow herself to be heard by all who had come to see her.

“You all know why this assembly has been gathered,” she began, her voice cutting cleanly through the moist air. “Many of you – most of you – believe that I should grant to others the same powers and abilities that I have. I understand why you want this, and while I don’t believe that it would be the right thing to do, I don’t know if it can be called wrong, either.

“The machines are coming to destroy us, and we will need every advantage if we are to survive. I won’t deny that having more people with my abilities would be an advantage.

“But there are other things that need to be considered.”

She paused, letting her words sink in. Her heart pounded fiercely, and she felt surprised that her voice hadn’t faltered yet.

She turned her head slowly, taking in the whole of the assembly. “How many of you will go into battle tomorrow, believing that we will fail? Is that the attitude we should have? Or should we face the Automatons with the belief that victory is possible, that it is within our grasp if we fight hard enough for it?”

The crowd murmured uncertainly.

“We have to believe that we can win. Otherwise, we might as well give in to the machines right now. And if we will fight with the belief that we can come out of this war alive, then we must also plan for the future.”

She paused again as the crowd hummed to itself.

She fought to hide the fear she felt and spoke with all the strength she could muster. “I ask you all, whom are we trying to save? Are we trying to save ourselves, or are we trying to save the human race?”

The people chattered more loudly. She thought she was having an impact, but she couldn’t be sure.

“If it is the latter, then we must consider the future. We must consider the consequences of our actions. We cannot make decisions simply for today; we must make decisions that won’t bring us and our descendants harm later on. We have to fight for everyone in the north and everyone on the other worlds. We have to fight for every man, woman, and child who will ever be born.”

Now, the people had grown silent. They watched her with rapt attention. Her nerves tingled nervously.

“If we fight for all humanity, yes, we have to fight for ourselves as well. If we fail, humanity fails. But if we fight for humanity, we also to have fight for the future, and we have to make certain that none – none – of our actions can damage that future.”

She counted to ten, hoping desperately that this would work. Within the crowd, some groups muttered to each other intensely while others stayed deathly silent.

She reached ten, and fixed her eyes upon the assembled masses. “So I ask you, whom are we fighting for? Do we fight for ourselves, or for humanity?”

Patches of people scattered throughout the throng answered her. “For humanity!” they cried.

It was just a small number, but a moment later, their sentiment spread. Thousands of voices joined together, calling out, “For humanity!”

The words washed over Leha like the first rain after a long drought. She drank them in, joy warming her like the first rays of sun after a long night. Not everyone had added their voice, but a majority had, enough had. She had convinced them.

A brilliant smile lit up her youthful face. She raised her right hand into the air. “For humanity!” she echoed.

Her supporters in the crowd cheered and shouted, raising their fists above their heads.

She let their adulation wash over her. She leapt off the crates and joined her friends, who clapped and smiled. Benefactor brayed and radiated pride and happiness. Drogin grinned and hugged her. He said something, but she lost his words amid the tumult. It didn’t matter; his tone told what she needed to know: he was proud of her. When her brother released her, Natoma hugged her as well, and Doga slapped her on the back and congratulated her. Eranna was more subdued, but even she clapped and added her congratulations.

Leha grinned and waved at her people, hoping to show some of the gratitude she felt.

* * *

That night, Leha, Doga, Drogin, Eranna, Natoma, and Benefactor gathered in the command tent to make their final plans for the defense of the camp. The sun had set, and they stood in the preternatural light of two Clan lanterns. The air had cooled, and the humidity had changed from oppressive to refreshing. The air smelled of moist grass.

They looked over a roughly drawn map of the camp, searching for any weakness in the defenses, and they went over their plans, making sure there were no problems.

They were discovering flaws in their plan to delay the Automatons at the River Sheen. They had no way of knowing where the machines would attempt to cross, so they could not set up any of the war engines or fixed defenses they were building around the camp. They could try and use the First One crystal to lure them, but there was no guarantee they would once again fall for it.

They tried to come up with something to improve their chances at the river, but they failed, so they decided to move on to other matters for the time being.

Leha leaned on the table. “How are we doing on the feedback machines? Will they be ready in time?” she asked Drogin.

He nodded. He had dark circles under his eyes, and his hair was disheveled. “One’s ready now, and the other will be finished by sunrise.”

“Good,” Leha said.

She began to discuss the earthworks with Doga and Eranna. The workers were putting the finishing touches on them.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Drogin’s eyes widen. He began to scribble calculations in a margin of the map.

“What is it?” she asked.

He looked up. “Feedback. We can destroy the barrier machine the same way we destroy the Wizard-Automatons. We overload it. It’s already pushed to the limit; it won’t take much.”

They all turned their attention to Drogin.

Leha furrowed her brow, straightening. “How would that work? I thought their power was spread out; don’t the feedback machines need a focused spell to hijack?”

He nodded. “Yes, they do. But we won’t use a feedback machine,” he said excitedly. “Barrier machines have a very basic intelligence. They’re set to funnel energy through themselves to smooth out the magical currents and eliminate jumping points. They have a set amount of energy that they channel; this one’s been set to channel as much as it safely can.”

He gestured animatedly. “We’ll change it. We’ll set it to channel more than it can handle.”

“How is that possible?” Eranna said, looking as confused as Leha felt.

“One concern technicians like me had back when we used Automatons was that someone else would take them over. That’s why we keyed them to specific control amulets; that’s part of why we insulated them with lead. It probably couldn’t have happened; their minds are very strong, we know now.

“But barrier machines are different. Their minds are weak, meant to be controlled. And they don’t have any of the safeguards against hijacking that Automatons do. I saw that when I first studied them. I didn’t think it mattered at the time. To control them, you have to be close, and when you’re close, you can just destroy them.”

Natoma folded her arms. “So you’re saying that our technicians will be able to overload it if they get close enough?”

Drogin nodded. “We’d probably need the help of some wizards, but yes.”

“But if we can get in that close, couldn’t we just destroy it? How does this change things?” Leha asked, still trying to recover from her brother’s jargon. She’d always had trouble understanding him when talked about his work.

“A barrier machine can channel far more energy than any Wizard-Automaton – probably even more than the Machine King,” he said, still talking fast. “If it overloads, the explosion will be enormous. They’ll be keeping it well behind their front lines, but if we time it right, the explosion has the potential to destroy their army as well as the machine.”

“Won’t their lead armor protect them?” Doga said.

“What’s to stop the blast from destroying the camp, too?” Leha asked.

Drogin answered Doga first. “If this explosion is as big as I think it will be, their armor won’t make a difference. The lead will be the only thing left.” He turned to Leha. “We’ll have to time it perfectly. It will depend on where they keep the barrier machine. But I doubt it would be able to reach the camp, and if our army is in danger, we should be able to pull them back in time.”

He sobered. “It’s a risk. But if it works, we could cripple or even destroy their army with one strike.”

Leha bit her lip. “What about the team that sets it to overload? Won’t they be killed?”

Drogin shook his head. “Once we make the changes, there’s no way the machine will be able to perform its purpose. They’ll be able to jump out.”

“If that’s the case, we might be able to evacuate more of the noncombatants,” Doga said.

Eranna agreed. “The wizards will probably have their hands full, but we might be able to save some.”

Leha studied the map on the table, hardly listening to Eranna and the Lost One. She weighed the risks and potential rewards of Drogin’s plan.

“We might be able to make this part of our plan to hold the river,” Natoma suggested. “If we hold it until the overload begins, then retreat, they might be trapped on the other side of the river.”

Leha nodded, though she had her doubts. There was too much uncertainty in this plan. She folded her arms and thought.

“Leha?” Drogin prompted after a moment.

“I’m thinking,” she said.

“I’m not sure that we have many options. In a fair fight, we’re no match for the Automatons,” he offered.

“Even if it doesn’t destroy all of them, we can send away more of the civilians,” Doga reminded her.

Leha nodded absently.

I think we should try it, Benefactor broadcast. We must take chances if we are to destroy the Automatons. His psychic voice had a hard edge to it.

Leha looked at him, feeling faintly surprised.

“All right,” she said. “We’ll try it.”

Doga and Natoma nodded. Benefactor ducked his head. Drogin scribbled more calculations.

“How are we going to get to it? We can’t jump there,” Eranna said.

Natoma glanced up. “Yarnig could slip through. He’s been practicing illusions. He should be able to conceal a small group.” There was something odd in her eyes when she spoke of Yarnig, but Leha soon forgot it amid her other concerns.

“Very well,” Leha said.

The conversation began to turn to other matters. Leha continued to think of Drogin’s plan for a moment, wishing he had thought of it before the attack on Tallatzan. They would have been able to destroy the ziggurat in a fraction of the time and with a fraction of the effort.

She looked to her brother. “Could any barrier machine be overloaded in this way?” she asked Drogin.

He peeked up from his calculations. “I don’t see why not.”

The gears of the Leha’s mind leapt into action. “Would the resulting explosion be enough to destroy a ziggurat?”

He straightened. “I imagine so. Why?”

A tingle of excitement ran up Leha’s spine. “Once the nearer one overloads, we’ll be able jump again. We could send teams to the ziggurats and overload their barrier machines. If we win this battle, most of their forces will be crushed. If we also destroy their cities, they’ll never be able to recover.”

The others glanced at each other.

“Wouldn’t it be better to wait until after the battle, after we’ve recovered somewhat?” Doga said.

She shook her head. “The machines don’t adapt easily, but they’re not stupid. Once they know what we can do to their barrier machines, they’ll put in safeguards to stop us. We have to do it all in one go.”

She took a breath and shifted her weight. “We’ll have to use fighters and wizards that we can’t afford to lose, I know. But this is too a good of an opportunity to pass up. We can annihilate the Automaton infrastructure with a single strike.”

“I agree,” Natoma said. “This has too much potential for us to not try.”

After a moment, the others added their agreement. Leha smiled a little. She began to feel hope for the coming battle.

They spent another half-hour working out the final details of their plans, and then they realized they had nothing left to say. The meeting broke up, and they, with the exception of Drogin, went to their respective sleeping places. Leha’s brother would stay up and oversee the final preparations of their weaponry and defenses. Leha wished she could take some of the load off him, but she had no knowledge of the technician’s art.

Sleep did not come to her immediately. She lay in her tent, listening to the sounds of night, and went over all the plans again in her head, searching for some flaw she’d overlooked. She didn’t find any.

She worried about what would happen the next day. She thought of all that could go wrong. But she also felt hope. Hope for victory, hope that the Automatons would know defeat, hope for a world without war.

A world without war. For so long, it had seemed an impossible, unattainable goal. To think that it was so close made her ache with longing.

As the night wore on, she thought of her worries for that future, of her desire to keep the human race united and at peace. She still didn’t know of any permanent resolution for that problem.

The recent dissent within the camp had created doubt within her, but the fact that she had won the people over gave her great hope. They could devote themselves to the future. They could choose what was right over what was best for themselves.

* * *

The moment Leha woke enough to realize what day it was, a feeling that was neither excitement nor nervousness tingled through her body.

This was it. Today would bring about the end of the war. She had no doubt of that. Either her army would fail, and the peoples of three worlds with it, or the Automatons, the Old Gods, would once again know defeat at the hands of their own creations.

There was something oddly calming in that knowledge. She no longer had to worry about the future, about the weeks and months down the road. All that mattered was what happened on this day.

The camp was quiet – almost tranquil. Virtually all the preparations had been made. Their weapons were ready; their defenses were complete. People spoke little. There was nothing left to say.

The weather was as hot as the day before, but the humidity was not as oppressive. The sun shone brightly, seeming oblivious to the storm that would soon rock the camp.

In the midmorning, Leha took a walk along the top of the inner earthwork, studying the defenses. Trebuchets and catapults thrust their arms into the air from just behind the earthworks. Their ropes swayed slightly in a breeze that carried hardly any of the mountains’ cool. Out on the cleared fields, the trench to the north yawned, and though she could not see them, Leha knew that the wards Breena had designed peppered the ground. They were keyed to activate in the presence of lead, so there was no chance of Leha’s people setting them off.

Within the camp, nearly half of the tents had been taken down and stowed so that the machines would have less targets to set afire. Water was being stockpiled for the fires that did arise. Drogin’s feedback weapons had been completed, and they rested at the eastern and western edges of the camp, behind the earthworks. Each had been mounted to a hovering cart constructed from the remnants of the Clan hall. The carts would allow the machines to stay mobile – unfortunately, they were too awkward to bring to the river. A pair of reindeer would pull each of them. The carts were covered in lead plating salvaged from the armor of Automatons to shield them from magical attacks.

All through the camp and across the earthworks, salvaged chunks of Automaton armor had been made into stationary shields; civilians and soldiers alike could use them to take cover from the machines’ magic.

All the preparations had been made. Waiting was all that remained.

———————

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