Chapter 62

  As Batulan-bar waxed stronger, so did Hitasa. It began with Staja and Oyuun. Then, both Metsa and Dava asked for new spells to be added to their lexicon. Lodge Mother Sarnai declined for herself, stating that the city would be better served if others received power ahead of her. She was already widely publicized, after all.

  Seeing the Lodge Mother’s tacit support of Hitasa’s plan, more hunters came forward to receive new words of power. Then came everyone else. Former soldiers, freed slaves, laborers, house workers, fathers, mothers, and everyday citizens of the city. Before the line to receive a new spell became too long, Hitasa formed the all-purpose gel into a chair again and asked for someone to bring a desk for her to write on. Then she settled in to granting wishes.

  Some wanted to fight while others wanted to help in other ways. Hitasa wrote as many definitions for healing words of power as for combat. She also made sure to give a barrier word of power to everyone who came to her. She wanted them to have every tool possible to defend themselves.

  Word spread about Hitasa and kirtevas, growing the spell’s power person by person. One did not have to read the spell in the sky to learn of it and add to its power. Just hearing about it from a friend was enough to make a believer. Each time Hitasa spoke kirtevas and pronounced a new spell, the words in the sky grew larger. Soon, they would drape the entire city. Anyone who looked up would see them and become a believer. Even the enemy force outside would see. As long as they did not manage to avert their eyes, they would add to its power as well.

  More people came into the square, some aware of what was transpiring at the heart of the city and others in the dark. A few wanted to fight. Some were just curious, eager to watch the chaos unfold. Others attempted to denounce Hitasa and the hunters. They wanted to surrender and throw themselves on Drakko’s mercy. Most knew this was asking for execution instead of death in battle, and so the contrarian voices were ignored. The Mountain Guard did not take prisoners.

  Once someone received their two spells from Hitasa, they went to Sarnai and Dava who, having the most tactical experience of the resistance, had taken it upon themselves to organize the defense of the city. Hitasa only caught snatches of the battle plan. She was too busy writing and announcing spells. But she managed to glean that Sarnai was sending the hunters and former soldiers to the most likely ingress points for the coming army and she was stationing the civilians and healers where they could support the defense from relative safety.

  All the while, Dalex’s machines fought a pitched battle outside the canyon.

  And then, all at once, the explosions stopped. The city went quiet except for the general murmur of the crowds in the square. People looked up at the canyon walls.

  Hitasa was in the middle of creating her hundredth spell of the day, writing down a word of power for a beastkin blacksmith, when the silence fell. She stared at the top of the canyon herself. Had Dalex’s machines prevailed, or had they finally been overrun? The attack, if it arrived, would come from all directions.

  A silhouette appeared at the top of the northern cliff of the canyon. It was humanoid in shape, but larger than seemed natural. The shadow gazed down upon the city, and then it raised a double-bladed axe to the sky and let out a guttural scream that echoed across the city.

  Hitasa’s blood went cold. A woman in the crowd cried out in despair. Civilians began to flee the square, returning to their homes. Sarnai and Dava sped up dispatching volunteers to their posts.

  More silhouettes joined the figure on the cliff’s edge. They stood in a long line, howling and waving their weapons.

  And then a voice spoke from the ether, calm but inescapable.

  “I had hoped for a more peaceful resolution to this dispute,” it said, almost fatherly in its tone, “but it is clear that Dalex of the Expedition Seven has poisoned this city against me. You have turned away from your god, and so you must be punished. I am sorry, my children, but this is the way of things.”

  Hitasa stood up from the gel chair. She felt a slight tremble in her legs. Her head was hot with rage. She opened her mouth to shout the words forming in her mind, but someone beat her to it.

  An elf in the crowd screamed up at the sky at the top of his lungs, “YOU ARE NOT A GOD!”

  Others joined in. Even some of the beastkin took up the shout. “YOU ARE NOT A GOD! COME AND GET IT!”

  The voices of the crowd dissolved into nervous but genuine laughter. Hitasa smiled. She sat down again and wrote those two new sentences from the crowd onto her paper, neither of them defining a word of power. When the scribble was done, she drew her finger across the ink and spoke, “Kirtevas writes my script across the sky.”

  The words over the city changed, morphing into the people’s refrain.

  You are not a god. Come and get it.

  ***

  Oyuun jogged through the familiar city streets to the position Lodge Mother Sarnai had told her to hold. She saw the orcs gathered on the canyon wall. Then she saw the taunt in the sky.

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  You are not a god. Come and get it.

  Drakko wasn’t going to like that. Given that he had sent the Mountain Guard to do his dirty work, he probably wouldn’t show up himself, but his orcs would be fully off the leash now.

  When she woke up that morning, Oyuun hadn’t thought this would be the day she died. She had asked Hitasa for a word of power, but she hadn’t been in her right mind at that moment. Hitasa’s speech had been surprisingly moving, and the press of the crowd had made Oyuun feel more confident. Now, absentmindedly running along Beeman’s Avenue, her common sense kicked in. The best thing was to run.

  Oyuun came to a stop in the middle of the street, considering her options. She probably couldn’t sneak out through any of the city gates. The Mountain Guard would be watching all the ways out of Batulan-bar. But maybe if she jumped in the river and let the current take her, she might avoid the more watchful eyes of the enemy. There certainly wasn’t any use fighting Drakko’s handpicked killers.

  As Oyuun turned around to make good on her plan, she realized where she was. On her left was her favorite bakery. To her right, the street branched off into a bright alley that led to her childhood best friend’s family home. The house where Oyuun was born was only a short walk away, as well.

  Had Lodge Mother Sarnai sent her to this part of the city on purpose, knowing she would get cold feet and try to run?

  Oyuun let out a frustrated moan and scratched behind her ears. She could feel the mana roiling inside her as if it knew the power of the spell she had been given. In the past, she had been allowed to have only a few hundred believers for her mutt-hunting spells. The word of power Hitasa had written in the sky for her had been seen by at least five thousand people. She had never known such power.

  When she turned back around, the orcs were descending into the city. Most of them were clambering down the canyon wall, weapons strapped to their backs. A few jumped straight down from the cliff, landing among the houses below with resounding thumps.

  Nope, it was time to run.

  But before she could flee, Staja came sprinting up behind her. Oyuun hadn’t realized the Lodge Mother had sent them both to the same place.

  Staja gave Oyuun a wicked grin. “Did you see what she wrote? Come and get it. I’ve never been more excited.”

  Oyuun nodded. “Oh, I saw.”

  She paused, studying her friend. She saw the slight tremble in his eyebrow. That wasn’t from excitement or even battle-lust. He was scared. Maybe more scared than she was. In a way, he had more to lose. She didn’t like how much he had taken to talking about Hitasa lately, but she liked even less seeing him afraid.

  “Are you sure about this?” she asked. Whether or not he heard the offer between the words, Oyuun couldn’t tell. If running was an option for her, it was an option for both of them.

  He gave her a stern look. “I’m where I need to be, for me and for my people.”

  Oyuun allowed herself one more frustrated moan. Once it passed her lips and she took a deep breath, she cracked her neck and announced her new word of power.

  “Luukuuh means my fists strike with dragon strength.”

  ***

  Nothing about this day was as Metsa had envisioned it. It was loud and out in the open. It was impromptu and reactionary. It was totally out of her hands.

  For years, she had built the foundation of a tiny resistance, carefully approaching potentially likeminded elves and beastkin, getting to know them over months before broaching even the possibility of a passing interest in revolution. Then, in two weeks, her revolution had surged into rapid reality. Now, over the course of a day, it had become open war, and Metsa wasn’t even the one leading the army. Hitasa, a girl who had been totally unknown until a couple of weeks ago, was the voice of the revolution, and Lodge Mother Sarnai was directing its forces.

  As Metsa looked at the orcs climbing down the canyon walls and heard the screams of the citizens already coming face to face with the orcs that had jumped, she felt fear, but she also steamed with anger.

  This was supposed to be her day.

  Dava, standing by her side, broke her concentration. “I’ve never seen orcs before. I didn’t think they were really that big.”

  “It’s not their size you have to worry about,” Metsa muttered. “It’s their lexicon. Orcs are just one step above mindless animals, but they all know great magic.”

  Dava laughed nervously. He was an adult, but younger than Metsa by thirty years. When they had first met, it had taken some time before she could see him as anything other than a pup.

  “Why don’t they just incinerate the city, then?” he asked. “Drakko gave them all fire magic, didn’t he?”

  “It is a punishment and a message. We don’t get a quick death, and those who learn what happened to us will fear Drakko even more.”

  “Then, when we don’t die, they will fear him even less.”

  Metsa looked at him. He grinned back at her, barely hiding his fear.

  “If we don’t die,” Metsa agreed.

  “I’m glad we could give you the day you wanted,” Dava said. “It’s not perfect, but when this is all said and done, we will be stronger than ever.”

  His smile was infectious, even if he couldn’t read her dissatisfaction at all. Metsa stood straight and made use of the power the upstart girl had given her.

  “Peloleuka strings me a bow of fire, and noucynsa fills my quiver with dragon claw arrows.”

  ***

  Seteg Sarnai stepped off her tower of soil to walk carefully onto the Batulan-bar Mutt Hunters’ Lodge roof. The descending orcs were right above her. One of them had even dropped down on the lodge’s roof just before Seteg’s arrival. The brute had caved in a part of the roof. Luckily, he had not fallen all the way through into the building. Now they were face to face.

  Seteg had chosen this place to make her last stand first because it was her home, but also because it gave her an excellent view of the whole city while allowing her to fight on the front lines. From here, she could direct the defense of the city, wield her powers, and feel comfortable at the same time.

  But of course, it would truly be a last stand. Even with the powers Hitasa was handing out like candy, the Mountain Guard was stronger. Batulan-bar would bloody the orcs. Drakko would be even more displeased when this was all over. But the Mountain Guard would eventually win. Even Dalex of the Expedition Seven probably didn’t have enough machines to stand against them.

  And the others seemed to think Drakko would not make an appearance. Seteg knew him just a little bit better than they did.

  The orc on the roof watched her warily. He knew who she was. Everyone on Gaia Eta knew Lodge Mother Seteg Sarnai. The orc would be careful, too careful this time.

  He opened his ugly mouth and began, “Gakgok makes—"

  Before he could finish, Seteg snapped, “Bultsok punches you with stone.”

  A cylindrical cutout of rock rushed out of the face of the canyon wall and slammed into the orc’s back. The rock broke straight through his barrier and caved in his thoracic cavity from behind. He fell on his chest and howled with pain.

  Seteg walked toward him, reaching out a hand toward the canyon wall. “Bulakh makes Gaia my mallet.”

  A mass of rocky earth peeled off the wall to form a massive cudgel in her hand. She grabbed the weapon with both hands and raised it high over her head, smashing it down on the mewling orc’s skull. Its head exploded in a burst of green blood and a pitiful amount of gray brain matter.

  For the first time in her life, Seteg struck the first blow of a battle she knew she would lose.

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