Suzy Fireblood led her ten brave soldiers forwards as the barbarians charged towards them with murderous intent. With a sigh she slid her spear from her shoulder and in one fluent movement lunged at the warrior fronting the horde. The metal tip pierced through leather and flesh like butter and embedded itself in the man’s heart. Even before she withdrew it she broke another man’s nose with the metal plated end of the shaft.

The small squad forced its way forward through the vicious tide of savages until they reached the gates. A carpet of blood and bodies followed in their wake. They held their ground against the seemingly unstoppable army like a rock parting the waters of a raging river.

Suzy dodged and lunged seamlessly, her spear lashing out in wide arching slashes and viper like stabs that cleared a ring around her. While she defended with one half of the spear she killed with the other in a constant blur of motion.

A lanky barbarian with a weasel-like face and greasy hair managed to stick one of his two swords into one of Suzy’s men while he parried a blow with his second. He was cut down by a slash through his throat. Another of the defenders fell when a crossbowman picked him off while staying safely out of the combat. A well aimed throwing dagger ended his threat but the damage had been done.

With two men dead they could no longer hold their ground. Slowly they were pushed back. Suzy made sure every step was paid for dearly in blood. Another of her men was killed then another. The barbarians started to seep around them into the city. Suzy was about to send some men to stop them when something caught her eye.

Walking through the gate was the enemy leader, Serka. He smiled and laughed jollily as he spotted the seven defenders almost halting his entire army. He walked forwards drawing every eye in Suzy’s squad. None of them dared to move even to stop the flow of warriors leaking into the city.

The wind seemed to become wild as the man got ever nearer to them. Suzy’s raven hair whipped across her face and covered her eyes. This blocked her eye contact with Serka and snapped her out of the trance-like state she had been in.

Serka laughed louder when he saw Suzy regain her wits and ready her spear. Seeing their leader prepare to face the barbarian brought back feelings to her men and they too readied themselves to fight. The passing barbarians no longer meant anything to them.

Suzy met each one of her men’s eyes and each nodded to the unasked question. They charged at Serka, weapons raised, roaring a wordless battle cry. The other barbarian warriors paid them no heed as the group ran past them. Only Serka watched them, grinning maliciously as they approached.

A man went into a flanking position at either side of Serka, two stayed in front of him, two stayed back to be support, and Suzy had leapt into the air to take him from above by using her spear to vault herself upward.

Before any of them even had the chance to attack, Serka lashed out at the two men facing him, crumpling their chests with the colossal club. The men at the side used this opportunity to lunge at him with their swords. The first hit amour and merely scraped off. The second found flesh. At the same time Suzy’s spear descended towards his head.

Holding his mighty club in one hand he swung at the man that had just stabbed, hitting him in the head, causing it to explode like a melon. In the same space of time he grabbed Suzy’s spear that was inches from his face with his other hand and threw her at a nearby wall. She impacted it with a sickening crack.

As Serka watched the woman hit the wall one of the support troops charged him. Just before the sword struck him Serka head butted the man square in the nose. Blood sprayed forth and the man dropped to the floor. Only two men remained now.

The soldier at Serka’s side dropped his sword and staggered backwards. “I surrender. Please just don’t hurt me,” he pleaded. Tears flooded from his eyes and his entire body shook with terror.

A gentle look filled the barbarian’s eyes. “I understand,” he said sympathetically.

“R-really?” stammered the man.

“Of course,” replied Serka calmly.

In one great movement Serka swung his club with all his strength in an upward sweep at the man. The soldier flew through the air and slammed into a wall. The last man turned and ran but was cut down by the barbarians that still poured past.

“Cowards,” muttered Serka. He was about to continue on into the city when he realised that the woman was back on her feet. Only just, he noted.

Suzy’s name stake flared up within her. She was not known as Fireblood for nothing. Anger coursed through her, giving her strength. She slowly pulled herself up from the floor and staggered to her feet. Her right arm was broken and she was severely bruised in many places and could barely stand. She did not care. She smiled over to Serka but he seemed to have lost interest.

“Surely there is someone in the Sprite damned city who is worthy of fighting me,” the barbarian grumbled. “Gritz, finish off our friend here while I try and find a good fight.” Serka turned and left.

Seemingly out of nowhere the green bearded sorcerer appeared. Other than his beard he was totally bald. His eyes had no pupils, just eternal white that seemed to draw any lookers into them. He sighed then held out his hand. The last thing Suzy saw was a blazing inferno flying towards her.

Previous – Chapter 34. Sacrifices.

Next – Chapter 36. Blood in the Sand.

Trey stared wide eyed at the chamber they had been corralled into after Liam’s escape. It was at the very heart of the sand fortress and was easily big enough to contain every Flesh Eroder on the ship. Just like the stadium in Onlasar, it was a huge ring of tiered watch stands leading to a central ground that could be seen by all. Every inch of it was made of wood while crude lanterns offered a weak light that set the room into constant gloom. Sand coated the central area, dark stains in the golden grains hinting at the arena’s main purpose.

Hundreds of men and women stood along the tiers, baying for blood. The stands were nowhere near to capacity so Trey guessed that many tribesmen were required for the running of the sand fortress and the search for Liam.

Trey and the others were being held in cells that were connected to the main stage of the Bloodground. Several warriors flanked the group but Trey’s sole attention was on Mellow. He stood before them, separating the teens from the blood soaked sand.

The man leant casually against the bars that contained them, but his eyes sparkled with malice and a faint, taunting grin never left his lips.

“Death offers very little for all parties involved,” the man had begun. “I could slit your throats and watch you bleed out, but that doesn’t improve me, and nor does it improve you. Life is the battle with death. If there is no battle, what merit has the death and in turn the life? No. Instead I will break you, reduce you to your core to see what it is made of, to watch if you will shatter or rebuild. Shall I tell you the best part? I’ll enjoy every second of it.”

“And I’ll enjoy punching you so hard that you cough out your own intestines,” commented Zak dryly. Mellow ignored him.

The Flesh Eroder’s leader began to walk around them, assessing them like cattle. “What do we have though? Two boys with strong morals who believe that there is always a better path. A young man who strives to be the best and can accept nothing less, and a proud princess who wants nothing more than to run from her problems. I think that I have just the solutions.”

Mellow leaned toward one of the warriors and spoke something in his ear that was too quiet for Trey to hear. The warrior nodded and left them at a jog. Mellow now stood between Trey and Billy, placing a wrapped hand upon both boys’ shoulders.

“You two men of honour shall be first to break.” As he spoke, their bonds were cut and the iron bars lowered to allow access to the Bloodground. Mellow walked them forward to the roar of the crowd. Once they stood in the centre of the sand, two more Flesh Eroders appeared at their side, the teens’ weapons held in their hands.

“Take your weapons,” ordered Mellow. Trey and Billy complied, taking their blades from the men. Mellow continued as the men turned to leave the arena. “The rules are simple. Kill those that seek to kill you, or die. Four opponents, four deaths in return for your two lives.”

Trey clutched his sword nervously. Mellow left them without another word. The crowd still howled and jeered, drowning out all other sound, the enclosed area amplified the noise to near unbearable levels. Billy had an arrow nocked in his bow and was swinging it between the different entrances to the combat zone.

“Four men. Two each. We might just manage this if they fight fair,” Billy said as calmly as he could. Despite his words he didn’t sound confident in their chances.

Trey frowned. “Why did he put such an emphasis on breaking us? In a fight we either live or die. Unless he means to cripple us it makes no sense.”

“It’s all mind games,” grunted Billy. “We just need to focus and stay calm.”

There was a sharp sound from behind them causing both boys to whip around. One set of iron bars dropped and figures loomed in the darkness beyond. Billy was about to loose an arrow when the figures rushed into the light with near feral battle-cries. Long hair swayed with every movement and small hands held wicked daggers or short swords.

Billy lowered the bow. “Women,” he breathed, almost blankly. 

Trey was equally stunned but managed to keep a loose grip on his broadsword. The crowd cheered louder than ever now but the noise seemed to fall flat in his ears. This was what Mellow had meant. Trey cursed and looked for a way out but couldn’t see any.

The first woman, a twenty something year old with blonde hair, pounced at Billy who was still in a daze. Trey shoved him out of the way and deflected the sword thrust with his own blade. The other women circled around them, covering each flank like wolves stalking bear cubs.

Billy staggered back to his feet, drawing his rapier as he did. The women chose that moment to strike, flashing steel darting in every direction at once. Both teens blocked what they could but without aiming to injure they achieved little. Cuts began to crisscross their skin as blood splashed onto the sand again and again like the start of a spring rain.

“We can’t keep this up forever!” Trey managed to shout between hisses of pain. His sword was not designed to defend against several faster weapons. Its purpose was heavy killing strokes.

“I won’t kill them!” Billy growled under his breath. He was having a better time of defending himself but he was tiring faster than the relentless attacks of the female Flesh Eroders. “I won’t,” he kept repeating beneath his breath.

Never pick on the girls, Billy, came his mother’s voice. You’re bigger than them for a reason. It’s your job to look after them, protect them. You’re a good boy and you’ll grow to be a good man. Look after us girls and you’ll be glad afterwards, mark my words.

A knife slid between the joints in Trey’s armour, piercing his skin and muscle. He screamed out in pain. Blood flowed freely from the wound. Another used his distraction and sliced across his face. He could feel himself weakening with every second. He heard a harsh thud beside him and turned to see Billy clutching his ribs and a woman with a hammer readying a second swing. Trey knocked the hammer women away with the flat of his blade and received a slash across the back of his calf for his efforts.

“I don’t want to die,” Billy wheezed through pained breaths. “Not now. Not like this.”

Distant memories began to race through Trey’s head, the images of his past somehow forming a barrier between him and the pain. A tiredness that carried with it a comforting warmth washed over his body. Consciousness began to fade. His mother’s face rose from the darkness, smiling and loving, only to be replaced by the struggling, defeated Sarah as she was dragged away from him by the Forukks.

Trey took a staggered step forward, his shoulders slumped and his head hung. “If I give up then that means I have given up on her, on everyone. I…Will…Save her!”

He swung his sword with the strength that he had feared he had lost. The steel tore into flesh and sprayed blood across the sand in a wide arc. The woman he had hit crumpled to the floor and shook violently for several seconds before becoming still forever. Billy stared at him in a lost bewilderment and the remaining women took a few steps back, now eying Trey cautiously.

“B-but we are the good guys. Killing women is never the answer. There has to be another way.”

“There is no other way,” Trey began coldly. “If you want to save your family you have to kill them. If not, your family dies with you. I will make any sacrifice to protect Mum. Never forget that!” he ended, sprinting at the Flesh Eroders. They too burst into action.

Red eyed, Trey cut into whoever came within his sight. One jumped at Billy with a mallet. He closed his eyes and threw a knife, the woman’s body crashing down at his feet. His rapier flashed brutally, glassy eyes watching in deadened horror at his actions.

Then as fast as it had started, bodies stopped jumping at their blades. three of the four women lay dead in the sand while the final one writhed, clutching at her gut. Trey’s blood soaked blade was the only thing keeping him standing. He dropped to his knees, throwing up until nothing else remained in his stomach. Billy threw his weapons to the ground, disgusted by the sight of them. Silent tears streamed down his face.

Mellow appeared through one of the gateways, surveying the carnage with a smile. “You have done well. Your task is not finished yet though.”

“We won!” Trey screamed. He doubled over again and started to dry retch. Billy did not move. He stared into the distance as though in a dream.

“My deal was four lives in exchange for your existence. Only three have been taken,” Mellow explained, pointing at the injured woman.

Trey followed his finger and shook his head. “No. Sprites be damned. I won’t do it. Never again.”

The woman reached out her hand toward Trey. It was glossy with her own blood. She coughed then began to spasm. The next second, she too had joined the dead.

Mellow shrugged. “Oh well. That is four lives. You two can live.” He whistled and men emerged onto the sand to collect the bodies. A grate in the floor was opened and the women’s corpses were unceremoniously dumped within it.

“I hope you boys don’t mind being locked away until the other challenges are complete,” Mellow said almost pleasantly. He motioned to his men who grabbed Trey and Billy. They too were carried over to the grate and were dropped into the hole. The bars slammed shut above them. “I want you to truly soak in your sin,” Mellow laughed on his way back to Zak and Dawn.

“You’re sick!” Dawn almost sobbed. “Does life mean nothing to you?”

“Not really. Life is easy enough to replicate,” the chief said with a mocking grin.

Zak snorted. “You better have something better than a few women to throw at me.”

“Of course.” Mellow’s grin widened and his eyes glistened. “You get to fight me.”

Zak’s eyes lit up. He willingly walked to the centre of the Bloodground and almost whooped when he was handed his axe and katana back. Mellow stood opposite him completely unarmed. If the assemblage of Flesh Eroders had been wild before, now they were in a frenzy. They screamed and yelled at the top of their voices, feet stomping and arms a blur of movement.

There was a crash and the ship lurched. The ground shook for a few seconds then returned to its former equilibrium. The tribesmen had stopped cheering but when Mellow showed no reaction they resumed with refreshed vigour.

“It seems that your friend is causing us some trouble,” stated the chief blandly.

“It’s what we do best,” Zak boasted. “Now you better grab a weapon. I won’t falter just because you’re unarmed,” Zak said angrily. Despite this, his eyes searched every inch of the man, taking in every strength and weakness that he might possess.

Mellow laughed in his face. “Don’t worry. I don’t need any.”

Zak snapped. He leapt at Mellow and released a flurry of axe blows that would have matched the speed of any fencer. Every swing failed to hit its target though. Mellow swayed and ducked almost lazily, flowing around the attacks like they were coming at him in slow motion. The axe flashed down in a vertical cut and Mellow grabbed the blade with his hand. With a quick movement of his wrist he pushed at the blade and made the tip of the handle smash into Zak’s face.

Mellow released the axe but there was no trace of blood on his skin. Zak swung the axe again but Mellow did not even attempt to dodge this time. He blocked it with his arm and the blade struck and slid off as though it had hit metal. Mellow stepped closer and kneed Zak in the gut before punching him across the arena.

“Damn!” Zak managed to spit. He forced himself into a kneeling position but could not get his legs to support the rest of his body. “Think damn it! How can he be this strong?”

Mellow came into his view, followed shortly by a kick to the ribs so powerful that Zak smashed into the wall of the tiered stands. His axe lay in the sand where he had been kicked. With a grunt he struggled up, using the wall for support, then drew his twin katana. Previous pain forgotten, he dashed at the man, his blades like lightning strikes in his hands. Mellow blocked each with a deft movement of his hand.

“My turn,” the chief said. In an instant he switched to the offensive.

Like a pro boxer, Mellow pummelled Zak with precision punches that shook the teen to his core with every impact. For every attack that Zak managed to defend against, another two passed through.

A hand grabbed at Zak’s throat with a vice like grip and lifted him from the ground. With his free hand, Mellow laid into Zak as though he was a punching bag. Another explosion shook the sand fortress but Mellow did not miss a single beat even as half of the crowd toppled. When Zak stopped struggling, Mellow threw him at the ground with enough force to make him bounce a foot back into the air.

“Do you now realise just how weak you are? Thrown around like a rag-doll by an unarmed man. You are pathetic.”

Zak twitched but could manage nothing more. Mellow gave him a sharp parting kick to the ribs then turned his back on the boy. He clicked his fingers and Dawn was led out to him. She was giving her best attempt at stately serenity but that calm did not reflect within her eyes. They darted between Zak’s unmoving body and the grate where Billy and Trey were being kept.

Previous – Chapter 33. The Price of Life.

Next – Chapter 35. Holding the Line.

Light flared and Liam felt the arms that held him suddenly tense then fall away. He couldn’t see a thing but he had committed the ship’s deck to memory. Five steps forward, three to the left to avoid a pile of crates, duck under some hanging ropes, then a clean sprint to the door that led downstairs into the bowels of the vessel. Fumbling blindly, he found the handle and swung the door open, slamming it shut just as the light began to die away.

The steps were a shabby collection of wooden planks that ranged in height from baby strides to sudden drops. If it wasn’t for Liam’s attunement to the gloom then he would have stumbled more than once. Scant lanterns provided a dirty light which struggled to pierce through the soot stained glass that surrounded the flames.

Liam felt something scurry up his leg then Pux appeared upon his shoulder. “Do you have any idea on the layout of a giant land ship?” Liam shook his head. “As a tree dweller the size of an acorn, neither do I. I do however know that to take down something bigger than you, you need to take out its feet. In this case, we should destroy some of the wheels.”

“What about the controls?” offered Liam. “That was what lost us the carrier after all.”

Pux nodded slowly. “Yes. That would work. We would need to find them though. I didn’t see any external controls when I flew over the ship. They must be in one of the rooms above.” He made a series of clicking sounds with his tongue. A moment later more clicks responded from all around them. “This place is swarming with rats. Luckily for us they know this ship well. They tell me that we can get to several of the engine rooms from here but they are all guarded.”

“We need to get around them where possible. I doubt we’ll avoid them all though. I’ll need a weapon,” Liam said. He continued down the passageway cautiously, pausing with every crack and groan that came from the vessel.

Under the rats’ squeaked directions, Pux led them through the garbled maze of shanty corridors and cluttered storerooms. Three times Liam had to hastily hide when Flesh Eroders swept through in search of him. More times than he could count he’d had to avoid rooms entirely or sneak like a shadow past muttering men and women.

“The rats are saying that the room up ahead to the right is filled with metal death. That means weapons of some kind,” explained Pux.

“What do they say?” Liam asked out of the blue. “Rats, creatures hated by man yet never far apart. Hated because they survive. We call them vermin when really they only mirror us.”

Pux laughed lowly, almost bitterly. “A human who can think past himself? Your race is always so full of surprises. I was brought up to view humans as egotistical tyrants willing to destroy anything for their own gain. While I’ve seen too many examples of this to dismiss it, you, Trey and the others really are on a whole different level.”

“The rats don’t care about how they are viewed. As you stated, they survive. That is what matters to them. However much they are hunted, the more humans grow, the more they will,” Pux finished. “This door here,” he added.

Liam eased the door open and Pux darted in to check for life. It was clear so Liam entered. There was no light inside but with the door open he could just make out a row of chests against the back wall and an array of various crude looking cudgels and mallets hanging from the walls.

Pux climbed up to the lock on the first chest and set to work unlocking it with his sword. Liam inspected the weapons around him and couldn’t help but shudder. These weapons were designed to break bones. No armour offered protection from blunt force trauma. 

The lock clicked, snapping Liam away from his dark thoughts. He heaved the chest open to reveal a pile of hundreds of knives and daggers thrown together without care. Their varied sizes and designs suggested that they were taken from cultures all across the world. That was unusual for a remote desert tribe.

Liam started to search through the knives for something he felt comfortable with while Pux made a start on the next chest when there was a sharp hiss behind them. Liam whipped around just in time to avoid a thrown dagger aimed at his head. It thunked into a wooden beam behind him. Opposite him was a wild haired woman wrapped in loose furs.

The woman readied a hatchet. As she advanced she began to scream at the top of her lungs. She was going to bring the entire tribe down upon them. Still screeching, the woman charged at Liam. He grabbed her wrists and held her in place. He had no weapon but needed to silence her. Unthinkingly he tossed the hatchet to the side and grabbed her head. He twisted. There was a sharp snap, then silence.

Liam watched the woman slide to the floor. Her fierce blue eyes stared up at him unblinkingly. Only now did he see that she was a scant few years older than himself. By most standards she would have been attractive, but Liam couldn’t force his eyes away from those glassy orbs that stared into his soul.

What was death? What defined that fleeting moment between a living, moving, thinking being and a corpse? What gave him the power to decide who should cease to exist? One person had to die but why should it have been her? He had killed her with his bare hands, looked into her eyes as he removed her from the world.

It was only when Liam felt a slight pressure on his leg that he realised that he was shaking. He looked down to see Pux placing a reassuring hand on his ankle. “You did what you had to.” He chortled to himself. “You said that nothing affects you. Things feel so different when you cannot escape it, don’t they? Holding a body in your arms shows things as they are, not like seeing death at a distance.”

“Dawn’s mother…”

“Would you have been so impassive had you been forced to do this?” Pux asked, indicating the body.

Liam reached out an unsteady hand and gently closed the girl’s eyes. Without a word he stood and grabbed a cudgel from the wall.

“If my life cost that girl hers, then it would be an insult to get myself killed now. I wonder how far through life a person can go, stacking up the deaths they have created in return for their own survival?”

“Ask any soldier. Any man with a soul who kills has to come to terms with it. Come, we still have a job to do.”

Liam took one last look at the dead girl then followed Pux out of the room. The corridors beyond were clustered with Flesh Eroder warriors who had been drawn to the scream. They were searching every room one by one. It was only when Pux snuck into a different room and started to knock items over that Liam was able to slip past into the next level down.

The noise here was much louder than above. Liam didn’t need Pux’s directions to find his way to the closest engine room. A warrior stood guard but after turning to stare at Pux, Liam smacked him in the head. Liam hoped that he had managed to keep him alive but he had little time to make sure. He dragged the man inside and shut the door behind him.

Two more men were inside the room but neither had anything more than a knife. Liam and Pux took care of them in short order and heaped their bodies in one corner.

In the centre of the room was the top quarter of a giant wheel that was turning at a constant steady rate. Steam filled the room and a large furnace burned. A wide pile of coal sat beside the furnace while huge barrels of saltwater lined the walls. Rusted pipes connected everything together creating a bramble like thicket of metal.

Liam eased his way through the pipes to stand beside the mammoth wheel. The furnace heated the water to steam that created pressure that turned the wheel. Liam had to admit that it was a clever setup. 

After a quick scan, he selected the joint where the wheel was connected to a large box that the pipes fed into. From under his shirt he unfastened a flat, flask like metal shape. To any inspection for weapons it would have felt like nothing more than a drinking flask or at the most an armoured plate. The soft rattling of powder within told a different story though. It contained far less powder than a usual boomball and its design made it less effective as a weapon. He placed the explosive container into a nook and lit the fuse with a small steel and flint device.

He made a hasty retreat and was halfway down the hall before a peal of thunder rang out and the sand fortress lurched and shuddered. The colossal ship continued to move though.

“They’ll be on to us now,” said Pux, once again taking to Liam’s shoulder. “The engine rooms will be under heavy guard in a few minutes.”

Liam shrugged. “Well then we’ll just have to move fast.” He broke into a run. “If we take down two more of the wheels then move to the control room that should be enough to bring this ship down.”

“Shame about the other two giant ships really,” muttered Pux. He sighed. “I only hope that we’re quick enough to save the others.”

Previous – Chapter 32. Barbarian Battle.

Next – Chapter 34. Sacrifices.

The very walls seemed to shake as twenty thousand voices roared guttural war cries aimed at the besieged city. Weapons clashed against shields, armour and the ground causing a steady beat among the harsh shouts.

Only days before had the existence of the huge army even been known to the city. In those few days a desperate struggle had ensued to fortify Onlasar. A deep ditch had been dug skirting the city wall and spikes had been placed within it to impale any foes who fell. Additional battle towers had been constructed taking the number from thirty to fifty. Too many of the defences had been left to fade in the peace.

Commander Nakai inspected his newly assembled army and suppressed a sigh. Around eight thousand men stood before him with what weapons and armour could be provided for them. Every guard in the city had been assigned as sergeants as they were at least trained to fight, even if it was not for a pitched battle like this.

The main bulk of the army was just regular citizens conscripted to defend their city. Every person able to lift a sword and pull a bowstring was enlisted to fight, regardless of age. All boys from the age of thirteen had been given a mass produced sword, a shield, a bow and some meagre armour. Men as old as seventy held their weapons in shaking hands. Women were given the option whether to fight. Most declined but many grabbed their armaments and hastened to their given position.

“So, this is how it all ends, eh Mike,” said one of Nakai’s generals and close friend, Robert Barker. Nakai placed a reassuring hand upon his shoulder before taking his place at the head of the gathering of soldiers.

“Everyone listen up,” roared Nakai. “Today we face a storm unlike any that we have faced in our, or our fathers’ lifetime. Much longer in fact but it is us and us alone who must face it, and face it we will! Our families hide in fear. They cry! Will we let harm befall them?”

A huge thunder of ‘No’s erupted and filled the city, drowning out the chaos of noise beyond the walls for the briefest of seconds. Thousands of warriors, peasants, nobles, merchants and soldiers alike were ordered to occupy the battle towers and archer boxes. All had bows aimed at the barbarians, arrows nocked. The remaining soldiers formed ranks in the streets below with weapons at the ready.

The barbarians stayed out of bow range though. They fully surrounded the city, cutting off all routes in and out. A large gap in their ranks suggested that more were expected. Forukks and men in

foreign armour dotted the barbarian horde as well as several mountain beasts captured and trained for battle. Too few of the defenders were even trained to use the weapons they held. The savages below them were profound at the art of killing.

The citizens of Onlasar did have a few advantages. Every few soldiers had boom-balls strapped somewhere on their bodies to throw into the vast gathering of enemies beyond the walls. Each person had a quiver full of arrows and many boxes held refills if all were exhausted. They also had Commander Mike Nakai, leader of the defending forces and the greatest warrior in Onlasar.

Nakai stood in a battle-tower gazing out at the mass of foes that almost reached the horizon. He had a good tactical mind so he knew the options he had and the outcomes that they would bring. He knew that if the barbarians were smart then they would just stay out of bow range and starve the city. It could take months for the food to run out but it inevitably would. The defenders would die of starvation, turn on each other or try and fight the enemy in a last desperate struggle. All ways led to inevitable death.

Luckily, Nakai also knew a lot about the barbarians. They were impatient brutes who loved nothing better than a good fight. They would not limit their own casualties by waiting, where would the fun be in that? Instead they would throw themselves at the defenders in a savage rage that few could stand against.

He scanned the faces of the men around him. They ranged from terror to grim determination but they all had the haunted look that came from knowing that there was nowhere to run. Men never fought harder than when their backs were to the wall. Not that that helped morale at all.

Nakai remembered his first battle. He had been ambushed by barbarians while travelling with his father. Everything was a heightened blur at the time but he remembered coming to his senses afterward, soaked in blood with corpses all around him and a dying man at the end of his blade. He had been no older than Trey and his friends back then.

A movement at the front of the opposing army drew Nakai’s attention. A lone warrior stepped forwards causing a hush among the warriors behind him. He was a huge man built like a bear, arms like

mighty tree trunks and a chest like a barrel. His head was bald and covered in tattoos designed to make his face look like an Abyss Sprite, an evil manifestation of a fallen Sprite. In one hand he held a monstrous club that would take a normal man all his strength to lift two handed, let alone be able to swing it. Huge slabs of black iron served as his armour.

It was the barbarian leader, Serka. He took another few steps forwards so that he was within range of the defenders bows. Smiling savagely he bellowed out his message. “Are you ready for some fun?” 

A single arrow shot out from the wall aimed for Serka’s throat. In a flick of his powerful wrist his club decimated the arrow. His laugh boomed out at the city, almost as loud and powerful as the entire army’s war chants earlier.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he roared as he turned back to his army. “Charge!”

A tidal wave of warriors rushed forwards screaming threats and challenges to the men above them. Arrows erupted from the walls like a giant ripple mowing down the front line of foes. More and more arrows rained down upon the barbarians but their berserker rage kept them running even after their bodies had been pierced by the projectiles.

“Focus your fire on the monsters! The Forukks cannot be allowed to live!” Nakai ordered at the top of his lungs.

From within the mountain range, Nakai noticed a fearsome sight. Catapults and trebuchets were being pulled into view of the city. Arrows would not reach them but the rocks that they fired could level

the entire city. How had the savages achieved so much without being noticed?

A volley of five rocks descended towards Onlasar. A small portion of the wall in the north crumbled at the impact of one of the huge chunks of stone. Two battle towers fell, a building near the centre of the city collapsed and a crater appeared in the main road. Another few volleys like that and there would be no city left to defend.

“Fifth company, bolster the defences to the north! Keep them out of the city at all costs!” the commander shouted to Barker.

“On it, Sir!” Barker responded with a salute. “Men, move out. Double-time to the breech.”

Nakai contemplated their options. They could not leave the siege weapons intact or they would destroy the city within the day. No archer could get an arrow anywhere near them and the city’s own catapults would hit the mountains unless they got very lucky. A squad of men could not assault them as an army stood between them and all exits from the city were blocked.

More and more rocks fell from the skies reducing parts of the city to rubble. Barbarians fell like leaves from a tree in autumn but it made little difference. Various savages darted through the horde, sharp shooting any visible archers with their crude crossbows.

Flame exploded from the battle tower that neighboured Nakai’s own. As Nakai struggled to his feet his gaze followed a trail of smoke from the wrecked tower to the hands of a strange barbarian standing a few rows away from the front line.

“Great,” muttered Nakai. “They outnumber us, have siege weapons and a sorcerer.” No Nimula had been used openly for centuries after it was outlawed on pain of death by the first order of the Neotites when they had tried to seize control of Farava. Healers were still allowed to practise basic Nimula but even that knowledge was fading. Yet here was a man who could wield it and was helping to destroy the last great city in the land.

“What are we to do, sir?” asked a young woman, Nakai’s lieutenant, Suzy Fireblood.

Nakai had found her living on the streets back when he was only a sergeant. The first time he had seen her was when she was in the middle of a fight with a group of snobby nobles’ kids who had thought they could pick on her. She had made them all run off with their tails between their legs. After they had rounded a corner she collapsed from her injuries and near starvation.

Nakai had given her some of his food rations and offered her a job as a soldier in his regiment where she would receive food and shelter. She accepted and had risen through the ranks along with Nakai.

She looked more than a little worried. She was looking at the sorcerer too. He was easy to pick out because of his green beard and golden robes. Nakai’s mind was racing through ideas that could help but nothing took form into a plausible plan. He watched the men and women around him, knowing that their lives were in his hands.

A terrible explosion threw flames and shrapnel into the air in a large dome. To Nakai’s surprise it was in the enemy’s forces and not in his own. He watched closely and saw one of his sergeants, a violent, battle hungry man by the name of Logar, fill a rucksack with boomballs, soak it in oil, then with a mighty swing of his arm he threw it into the air.

As it arced back down towards the enemy he grabbed a crossbow with a flaming arrow from a man by his side and shot. The arrow flew true and hit the bag, igniting it and the fuses on the boom-balls. As it neared the ground it exploded, killing every man within a ten foot radius. Many more were slaughtered by the jagged metal shrapnel. This gave Nakai a brilliant idea. He turned to face Suzy Fireblood.

“Tell the catapult crew to put several boom-balls in a bag and soak it in oil. Have them launch it toward the enemy siege weapons.”

“Aye, sir,” replied the lieutenant as she rushed down the tower’s ladders.

We just need to live long enough for the enemy siege weapons to be destroyed and we might just stand a chance, thought Nakai. Even as that thought passed through his mind more rocks rained upon the city.

The barbarians had now reached the wall and were bringing ladders to the front. Despite the ladder crew being shot at by every archer, many still managed to raise their ladder to the wall. Men clambered up them like spiders. Within a minute the battlements were swarmed with ruffians.

A soldier ran up to one of the ladders that had risen last and attempted to push it off the wall before the warriors reached the top. As his hand grasped the wood, purple flames roared into existence, consuming the man’s whole body within seconds yet doing nothing to the wood. Nimula had been used to help defend the ladders. All that remained of the man was ash and the smell of burnt flesh. More warriors pulled themselves up and charged towards the city’s troops.

The defenders dropped their bows and drew their swords. Nakai did the same. He leapt from his tower onto the battlement above the main gate, cleaving a barbarian’s head in half as he landed. Blood spurted onto his face but he did not have the time to wipe it off. He ducked under a blow aimed at his head by a muscular man with a spiked mace and stabbed at his gut. Nakai’s blade protruded from the man’s back causing him to spasm briefly then fall to the floor. The commander had just begun to fight with a swordsman when all eyes on the battlefield and in the city were drawn to the mountains.

An explosion of monstrous proportion shook the mountain closest to the enemy siege weapons causing a landslide to swallow them and their crews. Every defender cheered at the change in fortunes. The enemy was far from defeated yet though.

The fighting continued more fiercely than ever. More and more ladders were raised as few defenders continued to shoot out at the seething mass of foes beneath them. Most were fighting for their lives, locked in a deadly melee to defend the battlements and repel the enemy.

The wall beneath Nakai’s feet started to shake slightly. He knew this feeling. The gates were opening. He kicked the barbarian he was currently fighting off the wall to fall to his doom and vaulted onto the stairs leading from the battlement.

The gate was free of men and the device that opened the gate was left untouched. The only other place where the gate could be opened was inside the castle. That meant that there was a traitor in the same place as the Lord, the women and the children.

Nakai had to warn them but first he needed to close the gate or at least get some soldiers to stop the barbarians flowing into the city. He could not leave to find anyone though or it would be too late to stop them as already barbarians were entering through the gate.

Just as it looked like he would have to choose to either stop the barbarians walking through the city’s front doors or warning the Lord of a traitor in the castle, his lieutenant tapped him on the shoulder. With her were ten men with grim faces.

“We’ll handle these guys while you go and do whatever it is that is causing you trouble,” she said with a smile.

“The whole barbarian army will be coming through here. You and ten men can’t do more than delay them for a few minutes at the most. Your odds of surviving are a million to one,” pointed out the concerned commander.

“When has that ever stopped me before?” answered the woman with a laugh. “More men will come as soon as news gets out. We won’t be alone for long.”

Nakai smiled back at her then sprinted off in the direction of the castle as fast as his feet would carry him.

Previous – Chapter 31. Blacksky.

Next – Chapter 33. The Price of Life.

“Trey. Wake up. Please be okay.”

Searing light assaulted his eyes as the soft voice registered in Trey’s subconscious and drew his mind back to the forefront of his brain. His body screamed out in pain but a quick check confirmed that everything was still functional.

He was standing upright, held straight by thick ropes that tied him to a tall pole. Similar poles held the other teens. They were all conscious and none looked seriously injured. Everyone retained their armour but their weapons were nowhere in sight. Billy’s lutar was in the hands of a dirty tribesman who grinned toothily as he plucked tunelessly at the strings. Dawn, who was on the pole to the right of him, sighed in relief now that Trey’s eyes were open.

“I have the strangest sense of déjà vu,” commented Zak dryly from Trey’s left.

“Shut up,” grunted Billy who was slumped dejectedly beside Zak. “We were lucky to escape last time we were captured. Now it’s all but impossible.” Between downtrodden looks at the floor he flashed the man holding his lutar venomous glares.

“Impossible you say?” asked a bemused voice that was hidden by a group of Flesh Eroder warriors. It was a calm, strong voice that sounded distant, yet felt whispered directly into the ear. Brutal yet as soft as silk. From the cluster of men stepped a slim man wrapped head to foot in ribbons crusted with long dried blood. Tanned skin stood out in a strip across his face from where crystal blue eyes watched the world with calculating amusement. “Time makes all possible.”

Dawn drew a sharp breath. Almost subconsciously she began to speak in a shaking rhyme. “Beware the man all wrapped in blood, whose riddled words aren’t understood, for in those eyes all souls erode, the man whose life the Sprites are owed.”

The wrapped man smiled, pearl white teeth visible through the folds of gory cloth. The blue eyes moved slowly over each of the captives, studying them with an intensity that knew every secret that their minds contained.

“What an interesting assortment we have gathered here,” he said. He directed his attention at Zak. “Who could have predicted that I would stumble across one of the Summoner’s blood.”

Zak looked genuinely surprised. “How did you know?” Trey had never seen the boy be taken aback.

“I see the auras, as I assume you can on occasion,” the man explained. His and Zak’s eyes were locked with a fierce intensity. “You see, I too am a descendant of the last Summoner. You could say that we are distant cousins. Our blood is hardly similar though. The Summoner had two sons to two different women. I belong to one chain, while you are from the other.”

“Just who the hell are you?” Billy managed to growl. Under the man’s attention the harshness of the words sounded more like whimpers.

“How rude of me. I am Mellow Blacksky, chieftain of the Flesh Eroder tribe,” the man introduced himself. His attention was still solely focussed upon Zak. “I have a proposition for you, cousin. Join me. With your strength, you would be my right hand man. You’d have all of the battle and power that you could desire.”

Zak laughed openly. “I already have all the power that I could possibly want and I’ll have more than enough battle between beating you and then marching into Lanstiro to show those Forukks who they’re dealing with. In the past few weeks alone my power has increased massively.”

“How dare you!” snarled one of the Flesh Eroders. He pushed his way forward and slammed his fist into Zak’s stomach. Zak didn’t even flinch.

“If you want to try the old ‘good guard bad guard’ then you may want to get this guy a hammer,” the teen grinned.

Mellow motioned for the warrior to stand down. He took a step closer to Zak. “Such confidence. Can your body support that confidence though?” Lightning fast he drove his fist into Zak’s gut. If Zak hadn’t been tied up then the boy would have doubled over. Blood spewed from his mouth onto the wooden planks beneath him.

“H-how?” Zak wheezed through pained breaths.

“Blood, my dear boy,” Mellow chuckled dryly. “Use your head. You derive your power from the blood passed down from a Summoner. The Summoner himself has no special blood as it is the prolonged use of the sword that infuses his essence. In old age a Summoner may begin to benefit from these changes but it is his children that gain the most. That power is watered down with every generation.”

Zak grit his teeth against the pain. “I am stronger than my gramps ever was!”

Mellow punched him again and Zak’s eyes looked on the verge of popping out of their sockets.

“Stop it!” screamed Dawn. “Leave him alone!” 

The chieftain turned and focussed in on the girl. “And let us not forget you, my dear. Robes the colour of fresh blood and hair like a flame to herald in a new era. I know you, Dawn Rayin of the Heptalli. You were named for your destiny of bringing the dawn of a new chapter in the Heptalli’s history. Nowhere does it state that this new era will be for the better or worse though. Such a mountainous weight for such slender shoulders, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Get away from her!” Trey growled but Mellow ignored him completely.

“Join me, Dawn. Together we can unite the desert as it once was. Think of the peace that would create.”

Dawn fought to keep her face calm, a difficult task under his piercing gaze. “What peace can be found by a man who formed a band of savages named the Flesh Eroders? By a man who wraps himself in the blood of every man, woman, and child that he has ever murdered?”

Mellow laughed a great rumbling laugh. “The world is a contradiction,” he chuckled merrily. “You say that ‘Flesh Eroder’ is savage but what is it that erodes flesh? Time! It is time that reduces kings and paupers to skeletons. This desert that we call home, this wondrous sand as far as the eye can see, all of it is the result of the erosion of time. This desert was a lake, which in turn was once a sea. That sea rubbed against cliffs and mountains, grinding rock into sand. Water eroded mountains to create sand which formed this desert. Life becomes death and that death feeds new life! Life and death, creation and erosion, one is impossible without the other!” he ranted happily as though he was revealing the secret of life to the teens.

“As for these,” Mellow continued, tugging at the blood stained bandages. “Think of them less as a gory trophy and more of a memoriam of the souls that I owe life to. Blood is the essence of humanity, by wearing the blood of every life that I have reaped it serves as a constant reminder of every face, every voice, every set of eyes that I have seen the life drain away from. Look back far enough into the Heptalli’s history and you would see that you wear crimson robes as a reflection of my practice.”

“Our family has worn red for centuries,” Dawn countered. 

Mellow swung around to face Zak again. “And there we have the answer to your question of how my power supersedes your own. I used my talents to extend my life exponentially. The last Summoner was my grandfather.” Like a whip he rounded on Dawn. “Those tales that mothers tell children to scare them about the blood wrapped leader of the Flesh Eroders are not made up stories, nor is it a mask taken up by a new man every few years. I am legend. I am time immaterial.”

Liam yawned. “Enough talking already. If you’re going to kill us, just get it over with.”

“You are quite right, Onlasarian. I have an appointment at your city’s walls to keep.” Mellow nodded. He began to walk away.

Zak snarled at him. “I…am the…strongest!” He hissed a chain of strange words. As his voice picked up tempo, dark clouds boiled above them. Lightning flashed and forked down upon the head of the chieftain. Mellow raised his arm and batted the blazing bolt away like a fly. The lighting scored a deep line of molten glass into the desert to their right.

Tutting under his breath, Mellow pulled a book from his bandages. Its dark crimson leather casing and golden lettering made it instantly recognisable. ‘The Arts of Nimula’. He leafed through the pages then threw it across the deck in disgust.

“You put such faith in a child’s toy,” he grunted. “Books such as that were used to teach children the basics of the power, the words little more than an aid to help concentration.” Mellow raised his arms and the land shook and groaned violently. Sand rose up all around them, enclosing over the ship until it formed a shell that surrounded the three vessels. Mellow lowered his arms and the sand crashed back into its original place.

The Flesh Eroder warriors cackled with raucous laughter at the sheer fear and shock on their captives’ faces. Even Zak seemed stunned by the display. Power still crackled through the air, dissolving slowly in the wind.

“Get the ships moving again,” Mellow ordered the men around him. “Time alone won’t destroy Onlasar. While we have nothing to do other than wait, prepare the Bloodgrounds. Our guests may as well provide us with some manner of entertainment during their demise.”

A chorus of cheers erupted from a thousand throats. Men and women jumped to their tasks, hooting with an eager bloodlust that chilled Trey’s spine.

A tiny voice whispered behind Trey. “A real mess you’ve gotten into this time. How many times can you possible get yourselves captured?”

“Pux!” The Yuxova moved onto Trey’s shoulder, crouching low to avoid detection. “Can you cut the ropes for us?” Trey whispered.

Pux shook his head. “No. The ropes are too thick for my blade. Add to that you are all tied up separately, I would be noticed before everyone was free. Even if I could, there are too many warriors for you to escape from. Remember, there is no battle to distract them this time.”

Trey thought, his mind racing with plans. “Liam, do you still have any boomballs?” he asked in a low voice.

The older boy inched his head forward slightly. “Yeah. A few smaller versions.”

“They will have to untie us to take us to this ‘Bloodground’,” Trey explained. “When they do we need a distraction. Zak, do you think you can keep them busy for a few seconds?”

A shark-like grin spread across the boy’s face. “Oh, I’ll keep them distracted alright. Death is pretty distracting, right?”

“Liam, you break away and run. Pux, guide him through the ship to something important, keep him away from any enemies where possible. Destroy what you can with the boomballs. If this ship stops then Onlasar will have one less army outside of its walls. At least for a while longer.

“And what about us?” grunted Billy. “I didn’t notice the part where we are saved.”

“Neither did I,” Trey replied heavily. He could see no way out, but with so much depending on his actions, he would somehow find a way.

Trey couldn’t be sure how long they hung there, but it felt like an age before anything happened. Judging by the sun, only an hour or so had passed. A group of Eroders finally came for them. Mellow wasn’t among them.

“Cut ‘em loose!” commanded an Eroder. He had hundreds of teeth strung around his body. Men with hatchets scurried to the copse of poles and hacked the ropes apart. Before any of the teens could take a step, each was held firmly by two guards.

Trey made a show of looking defeated. His shoulders sagged and his head hung, his downcast eyes watching the shuffle of his dragging feet. The act wasn’t too difficult. He still couldn’t see any way out of their situation and his body stung everywhere from the carrier’s destruction. His armour had taken the brunt of the damage but now that too pained him. Its weight pulled him down and the shining metal roasted him in the unforgiving glare of the sun.

They were moved across the deck through a tangle of crates, cages and rope coils. Stairs leading both higher up and below deck were scattered seemingly randomly. Flesh Eroders were everywhere but there were plenty of places to hide.

“Now!” Trey shouted.

Zak heaved his shoulders and thrust his head back, breaking his guard’s nose. With a fluid movement he swung around, kneed the man in his gut then threw him at the next closest warrior. Every free man rushed at him. Zak raised his arms and crossed his palms above his head. A blinding light flashed out from his hands, enveloping everything in searing white.

The light faded away. The closest Flesh Eroder smashed a club into Zak’s head. Zak broke his arm in return. Then the rest of the warriors piled onto him, beating the teen down and wrapping him in heavy chains.

A flabby man wearing lots of gaudy jewellery prodded Zak’s chest. “You fool. Did you really think you could run? Ha! Idiot.” A few of the other tribesmen snorted laughter directed at the teen.

“Says the guys who are a prisoner down,” Zak pointed out.

The men whipped around. Liam was gone, his guard dead on the ground with several tiny punctures in his throat. The flabby man roared in anger. “Search the ship! Find him!” Both men and women scurried off to obey the command. “Get these meat-sacks to the Bloodgrounds. Mellow wants a show so we won’t disappoint. The quicker they die, the quicker we can eat.”

Billy groaned. “I hope you know what you’re doing Trey.”

“So do I,” Trey muttered quietly.

Previous – Chapter 30. The Erosion of Time.

Next – Chapter 32. Barbarian Battle.

The night passed by without a moment’s sleep for Trey. The image of the strange smiley reaper was embedded into his brain, dominating his thoughts. Zak and Billy found no sleep either.

To keep his sanity, Trey had decided to busy himself rather than lie in a nightmarish daydream. He had headed down to the under level to check on Dawn first. It appeared that the sleep she had gotten was deeply troubled. Her cover was a twisted mess by her side and dry tears stained her face.

As quietly as he could, Trey approached the sleeping girl and placed the cover gently over her then left, not wanting to disturb her.

After that he had taken turns at driving the sandspeeder with Zak and Billy after a brief lesson from Liam. Time passed slowly and uneventfully. The seemingly endless view of sand was beginning to grate the nerves of the boys, and lack of entertainment did nothing to improve their moods. Liam rose with the sun and took over the speeder, taking away the one thing the others had to focus on. They were reduced to sitting and cleaning their weapons.

The sun’s rays dispelled any fear that remained in the boys from the night and normal banter was battered backwards and forwards between them. Dawn emerged from the stairs and stepped onto the main deck, trying not to attract any attention. It failed. The talking stopped as she came into the sunlight.

“Morning,” she said in a weak voice. She tried to cover up the weakness by clearing her throat but it fooled no one. She walked over to the back of the speeder and gazed off into the distance towards her home.

Trey cautiously approached her and placed a tentative hand on her shoulder. It was hard for him to see her like this. Dawn had always been strong and in control yet now she could barely contain her tears.

“S-she’s dead, isn’t she?” whimpered the girl.

“We don’t know that. She was the leader of the Heptalli, she wouldn’t go down without a fight,” Trey reassured her.

“You saw the explosion.”

Trey didn’t say anything. What was there to say? Instead he just moved his fingers gently on her shoulder. It was a small gesture, but one his mother had always used whenever she wanted to reassure him.

Taking Trey off guard, Dawn threw her arms around him and wept into his chest. He had absolutely no idea what he should do. Unsure whether he was doing the right thing he wrapped his hands around her and returned the embrace. When she gave no reaction of hurting him or pulling away he tried to comfort her by rubbing her back gently. 

This situation was a totally new experience for Trey. The warmth of Dawn’s body against his made his head feel light. He could actually feel the emotions Dawn was experiencing, the sorrow and anger mixed with the sense of safety of the embrace. They flowed from her like a powerful aura.

Seeing Dawn’s distress, Zak and Billy decided to confront Liam again. He was standing at the speeder’s helm, seemingly oblivious to everything.

“Are you going to apologise to Dawn?” said Billy in a restrained voice.

“What for?” asked Liam blankly.

“For blowing her mum up!” shouted Zak a bit too loud causing Dawn to shiver in Trey’s arms. Billy smacked him across the head. As Liam made no attempt to apologise to the distressed girl, the two boys continued their crusade.

“Apologise now or you’ll be in a world of pain,” threatened Zak as Billy cracked his knuckles.

“Pain is good,” answered Liam soberly.

“How is pain good?” asked Billy, taken aback at the statement.

“Pain lets you know you’re still alive.”

Zak swung his fist at Liam’s face. The blow never landed though. Dawn grasped Zak’s arm with both her hands, halting the attack. Zak lowered his arm with a confused look then backed away slightly.

“It’s all right. Leave Liam alone. He did what he thought was necessary at the time and we still have a dangerous task before us. Fighting will get us nowhere.” The boys stood in amazement at Dawn’s new found resolve. She had a determination in her eyes that had not been there before.

Once the fuss had been sorted the group returned to doing mundane tasks. Trey finally revealed the stones he had been gathering in Onlasar. They each looked perfectly normal as he laid them out on the table. He examined several before choosing one. Pressing his thumb onto the stone while whispering a word caused the stone to glow blue.

Sound started to come from the stone, causing everyone aboard to jump, other than Liam who merely turned his head in a curious manner. The sound became more defined and within seconds a distinctive drum beat and the strumming of a lutar became clear. Vocals kicked in and it was like a real performance coming from a stone with only slight distortion. The distinct sound of Avocado Dusk filled the ears of all present, drowning out the churning of the speeder.

“How in Abyss did you get music into a stone?” asked a stunned Billy.

“Nimula and a little know how,” smiled Trey. “Do you like it? I call it rock music.”

“You realise that strictly speaking it’s technically a stone not a rock. There’s a big difference,” pointed out Zak.

“I know,” replied Trey. “Stone music just didn’t seem to have the same ring to it.”

“It’s just so cool!” exclaimed Billy.

“My axe is still better,” pouted Zak defensively.

“I don’t know. Mine can lock any sound into them, pass the time well, keep you entertained and if need be they’re still stones so I can throw them at people,” stated Trey.

“You want a fight? Your stones verses my axe?” questioned Zak as he tightened his grip on the weapon.

“I’ll pass.”

The day passed by in the enthrals of the music Trey had gotten at the concert. The sun arced across the sky until it was low on the western horizon and the moon was preparing to ascend into the skies when a distant rumbling sound began to float through the oven-like air. The teens gathered on the deck in silence, ears perked as the sound grew louder.

“What is it?” Billy queried. “It sounds familiar.”

“Sprites protect us,” breathed Dawn, her face draining what little colour it had recovered. “That sound belongs to a sand fortress.”

Trey frowned. “Sand fortress? You mean one of those giant ships?”

“Yes,” she confirmed. “The only tribes with the power and resources to construct them are the Heptalli and the Flesh Eroders. Neither one would be good news for us.”

“Should I change our course?” asked Liam calmly.

“Too late!” shouted Billy. A flag was rising over a dune near the horizon. From this distance the image couldn’t be seen, but as a hulking mass of wood reared into sight, the teens were left in no doubt who the sand fortress belonged to.

“Not these guys again,” Billy growled. “We need to get out of here now.”

“They’ll have already seen us. Liam, stay on course but crank us up to maximum speed,” Dawn ordered. Her face became calm and her every action was suddenly very precise. “We have minimal weaponry. Zak, get on the starboard cannon. Billy, climb up the rigging and spot for him. Pux, I need you to take Bo-Bo and fly over to them and do some reconnaissance. Trey, grab all of our supplies and get them ready for a quick departure.”

“On it!” chorused the boys as they leapt to obey.

The Heptalli speeder lurched with a sudden burst of speed. The sails extended and the innards growled angrily when Liam shovelled coal into a metal tube beside the controls that led to a furnace. Zak stood beside the small cannon where he eyed the apple sized ball of stone then compared it to the giant ship that was his target. He shook his head and loaded it into the cannon as though the sphere weighed nothing.

“What range does the cannon have?” Billy shouted to Dawn. 

The girl stopped and thought. “I don’t know. I have little to do with battles.”

“There’s only one way to find out!” giggled Zak, lighting the fuse and swinging the cannon to its maximum arc. Thunder crashed. The ball smashed into the ground about a thousand yards away, missing the Eroder ship by a wide margin. Zak was already loading another round into the chamber.

Billy made some quick calculations but with two moving targets, any workings out were rough at best. “If only I knew what range their guns are capable of, then I could find us an optimum firing position. For now we just have to hope that they don’t get close enough to shoot at us.”

Booms filled the air and several lumps of stone hurtled toward them. Sand exploded all around the carrier. The impacts rocked the vessel and threatened to throw it off course.

Billy steadied himself with a curse. “If they have this kind of range, we need to put more distance between us and them. We keep going straight and we’ll be killed. South is our only option.”

The ship swerved sharply to the left under Liam’s control, angling it to the south. More cannon fire obliterated the ground where they had been only seconds before.

“Holy Sprites!” Billy roared. From his raised position he watched as another two sand fortresses emerged from the dunes to flank the first Flesh Eroder ship. They too opened fire to litter the sand with craters. To add to matters, tribal speeders were pouring from the ships like angry hornets, rushing toward the teens with a chorus of guttural battle cries. “Guys, we’re in big trouble.”

Dawn joined Billy to survey the situation. “Zak, keep the speeders away from us. If they slow us down for even a second then we are cannon fodder.”

Zak obeyed, firing the cannon again. He watched with glee as the stone sphere hurtled into the lead speeder and reduced it to scrap in an instant. Billy shouted out adjustments and a second speeder cart wheeled into oblivion. It did little to dent their numbers.

Four more speeders met their demise but dozens of others closed the gap at an alarming rate. Billy had drawn his bow and, after a moment’s hesitation, began targeting the drivers themselves with precision aimed arrows. The sand fortresses had ceased their bombardment but continued to follow the faster speeders as they closed in on their prey.

Zak grabbed his axe and jumped onto the cannon. “Trey, take over for me. I’m going in,” he laughed. Before Trey could argue, Zak leapt from the cannon and landed on the front speeder. He offered the pilot a smile before throwing him out of the vehicle.

Trey aimed the cannon under Billy’s direction and braced himself as the gun bucked with another shot. The ball clipped the rear speeder’s wheel, sending the vehicle spinning out of control. Zak sprang from speeder to speeder, creating havoc with every movement. Despite this, the remaining speeders just veered around the chaos and continued to flank the Heptalli ship.

The carrier shook. The Flesh Eroders were smashing their speeders into the hull of the ship and the pilots were clambering up to reach the deck. They crawled onto the deck with weapons held in their mouths. The second they could stand they were instantly on the attack.

Trey abandoned the cannon and drew his sword. Billy and Dawn joined him, blocking off Liam from the attackers. The Flesh Eroders ran at them screaming. Billy hurled a knife at the closest man then brought up his short sword just in time to parry a slash from a curved blade. Dawn swung her scimitar around and sliced at Billy’s attacker. Blood sprayed her face and she gagged but had no time to throw up before she had to sidestep a swing from a mace.

More men boarded the carrier. Trey dropped a scrawny man with a slash to his chest then had to punch another with a gauntleted fist until he could bring his blade back into a defensive position. An axe bit into his pauldron with a force that numbed his shoulder. He stabbed at the weapon’s owner.

“I can’t drive and fight!” called Liam. Warriors were streaming past the teens to climb the stairs up to the helm. The black clad youth held a halberd at his side but couldn’t use it effectively with one hand. His head jerked between the approaching enemies and the wheel.

Billy managed to reach the railing. “Zak! Get up here. We need backup!”

Liam ditched the controls and thrust his halberd at the first man to peak the steps. The warrior stepped back to avoid the attack but Liam turned the lunge into an upward. The man staggered back with a scream but two more men took his place.

A black blur shot into the sky at the rear of the ship and landed between Liam and the tribesmen. It was Zak. He took in the situation at a glance and lashed out with his axe, striking both men in a single arc. Seeing Zak in his black armour, several warriors turned and ran.

Through the throng of Flesh Eroders emerged a stocky, barrel-chested man with a warhammer held firmly in bearlike hands. He charged straight at Zak with his hammer ready to smash into the teen. Zak leapt to the side but the man continued his sprint, completely ignoring Zak and hurling himself at Liam. Liam dived away and the hammer smashed into the helm, reducing the finely crafted wood into matchsticks.

The carrier lurched and swayed, swinging right sharply. Zak’s axe halted the warrior’s rampage but nothing could be done for the controls. Liam tried in vain to regain control of the carrier but he couldn’t get it to veer back away from the Flesh Eroder ships that were now far too close for comfort. The tribal warriors began to turn away from combat and jump back over the edge into the sand below.

“They’re running!” panted Billy. “We won.” He looked to the others, then to the shattered controls and the looming sand fortresses. “We’re doomed, aren’t we?”

The air exploded with sound that alone seemed to unbalance the world. Cannonballs hurtled toward them as though they moved through jelly. Every heartbeat took an age but Trey could only look on in horror. His body would not move.

Wood split and became an armoury of deadly stakes that crisscrossed in every direction. Sawdust and sand stormed through the wind in a torrent of devastation. Sections of the carrier broke away and flew wildly to smash themselves to tinder as they flipped across the ground. There was so much noise that sound lost all meaning.

Trey felt pain, then seemed to become weightless until more pain greeted a feeling of being crushed. Sights and colours were nothing but a blur that induced sickness. One second was darkness followed instantly by intense light in constant repetition. Then all was still and the veil of darkness settled across his eyes.

Consciousness flickered like the flame of a candle. Time passed on its own accord, a second becoming an hour while a day could have passed by between hazy blinks. Figures moved disjointedly in his peripheral vision like waking spectres. Hands tugged at him, lifted him, pulling and pushing as he lolled with all the power of a rag-doll.

Previous – Chapter 29. Birth of Darkness.

Next – Chapter 31. Blacksky.