Centyr Dominance (21 page)

Two more of her spell-twins were destroyed in quick
succession, forcing Gram and Alyssa to scramble. Chad used all that remained
of his arrows and then began scavenging once more. Their circle had become
much smaller.

A flash lit the field as a bolt of lightning struck
near the center. Moira hadn’t been ready for it, and it had come nowhere near
her targets. She could feel the tension that had left the thunderclouds
above.
No!
She sent more power skyward, trying to keep a closer rein
on the energies there. She needed the lightning when
she
was ready, so
that it could be directed.

Again one of her spell-twins died, and this time she
felt the air torn by whatever passed through it, just feet from where she stood.
The air seemed to slap at her, and something far behind took the final blow.
She didn’t have the focus to spare to discover what it had destroyed.

She kept her attention on the sky above. Though her
eyes were wide, staring forward, she had nothing left to spare on the rest of
the battle. One of the latest to break through the shields came close, leaping
toward her with a knife outstretched. His body erupted as Thorn swept through
his arm and torso, bisecting him mere feet from where Moira stood.

So deep was Moira’s concentration that she didn’t
flinch as the hot blood sprayed across her face and chest. The veins and
tendons in her neck and arms were standing out as she strained to bend the wind
and clouds to her will.

And then she was done.

Actinic light, harsh and blue-white, flared as a bolt
of lightning slammed into the earth where one of the oncoming metal beasts
stood. The world seemed to pause for a moment then, a vast, dark silence left
behind in the aftershock of that thunderous event. And then the lightning fell
again, striking it once more before a rapid succession of flickering bolts
found the second monster as well.

Neither of the metal creatures moved after the first
strike to touch them, but by the ninth or tenth stroke both were smoking, and
one exploded in a sudden fireball.

More lightning flickered at random locations, and
Moira could feel the power that her efforts had created in the thunderheads
above. It was like an avalanche waiting to fall, and the adrenaline surging
through her cried out to release it. There was enough there to sweep the field
clean, perhaps enough to cleanse the blight of Halam itself from the earth.

Groaning audibly, Moira bent her metaphysical back
once more, straining to quiet the currents of air that were rolling past one
another, generating the dangerous potentials above. Rain had begun to fall,
and she was soaked to the skin as she labored to reverse what she had done.
Her dress was soaked through, and her breaths coming in hoarse sobs by the time
she was done and the rain began to slack off once more.

She found herself sitting on ground turned muddy,
panting and tired.
Father makes it look so easy,
she thought,
but
then he doesn’t have to actually ‘do’ anything. Well—besides worry about
losing his mind every time.

A hand entered her field of view, and she accepted it,
letting Gram haul her onto her somewhat unsteady feet. His once shining armor
was covered in a mixture of blood, grime, and all sorts of unmentionable things
that were probably supposed to remain inside of people, rather than on the
outside of him.

Staring at him, she imagined the sweating warrior
inside and whether it was a result of the shock of near death, or the violence
she had just witnessed, she felt a feral desire to rip the armor from him and…

Alyssa met her eyes, and in the other woman’s gaze she
saw a full understanding of what she had been thinking. Moira cast her eyes
down and stepped away.

“Not to put too fine a point on things,” said Chad
quietly, “but what are we goin’ ta do about the rest of ‘em?” He gestured
vaguely at the thousands still beating on the shields that protected them.

Moira’s circle of defenders numbered only four now,
and the circle had shrunk considerably, enclosing an area a mere thirty feet
across. Beyond that defense lay tens of thousands of dead-eyed and presumably
murderous citizens.

Gram held up one of his hands, visibly counting his
fingers as he tried to make some unknown calculation.

The ranger snorted, seemingly reading the younger
man’s mind, “Give it up lad, you’d be here for days, if that’s what you’re
thinking. You’d trip and break yer own neck from sheer exhaustion before ye
finished ‘em all.”

Alyssa glared at the archer and stepped closer to
Gram, “He wouldn’t be alone.”

Meanwhile, the baron watched both of them, uncertain
whether this was some sort of joke he hadn’t been included in. “Count me in as
well,” he added, holding up a sword that shook slightly from exhaustion.

Chad looked at the sky, muttering to himself, “Fuckin’
idiots, what is it with the young?” Louder he added, “You two would be dead
within minutes. Sir Shiny here is the only one who’d survive, and that only
because he’s got his magic trousers on.”

Cassandra, being free of the demands on her aythar
spoke in a deep rumbling voice, “If I may make a suggestion?” She sent a small
snort of fire upward to illustrate her point. “There are faster ways.”

Moira was aghast,
Burn all these people to death?
“No,
we’re not doing any of that.”

“It’s that or fly the fuck out of here,” observed the
ranger. He thought that the dragon was the only one yet to offer a reasonable
suggestion.

How long can you keep those shields up?
Moira
asked her remaining defenders.

Twenty minutes maybe,
one
of them replied,
unless you give us more aythar.

Moira nodded, then turned to her companions, “I’ll do
it the way I originally planned, with a few changes. It will be easier now,
since everyone is already gathered close at hand. I just need to rest first.”

“Beggin’ yer pardon,
princess,
” said Chad, “but
yer already wore out. That ain’t gonna work.”

Moira sat down on the grass before reclining and
closing her eyes. “We aren’t killing any more people. It will take as long as
it takes. Now let me rest.” She sent a final thought to her spell-twins,
Wake
me when you can’t manage any longer.

Moira didn’t honestly expect to sleep when she closed
her eyes, she merely hoped to rest her mind and body for a few minutes, to
prepare for the ordeal of channeling aythar again. It came as a surprise then
when she heard her secret advisor’s voice shouting at her from within her own
mind.

Wake up! They can’t hold the shields!

Her eyes shot open, but before she even registered
what she saw her mind was questing outward, checking on her magical helpers.
Her magesight showed her that they were fading fast. Even to her physical
sight they looked thin, translucent, their aythar was almost gone, and their
time remaining was probably measured in seconds.

Without waiting for Cassandra she put forth her
strength and began reinforcing them. Alone she could have managed a shield the
size they were producing by herself, for quite a while, but it was a
considerable amount of work. She wasted no time in tapping the enormous
reserves that Cassandra represented to avoid exhausting herself.

“Now that’s just creepy,” said Chad Grayson, peering
down at her where she lay. “She’s just staring up at the sky like some
demon-cursed child.”

With the aythar flowing stably she felt safe diverting
some attention to her personal positioning, locking her eyes onto the ranger’s
she reached toward him with her hands, “Help me up.”

The older man jumped slightly, a frown on his
features, “Don’t do that girl. It’s like having someone talk to ye from a
coffin.” A second later he took her wrists and pulled her up to a standing
position.

Alyssa chuckled, despite the tension in the air,
almost unfazed by the masses gathered around, staring in at them, “You’re just
feeling guilty because she caught you staring at her bosom, old man.”

Chad rounded on her, “She looked like she was
possessed, that’s all. Besides, I ain’t never felt guilty for lookin’ at a
woman. Ain’t my fault if she grew up like that.”

Moira’s cheeks colored slightly.

“And I ain’t
that
old,” added the veteran, “or she
wouldn’t be blushin’ over it.”

He’s impossible,
said
her other self from the back of her mind.
You should have let me fix him
when we had the chance last week.

No,
Moira told her
assistant firmly.
He’s his own man, flaws and all. It’s not right to go
around altering people to suit your whims.

If you ask me, some people could be
greatly improved by a little polishing. That’s all I’m saying,
complained
her mental companion.
People would thank you.

Enough.

All of womankind would owe you a debt,
added
her second self.

Are you done?
asked
Moira.

Yes.

Chad’s eyes narrowed, “Why’s she lookin’ at me like
that?”

Gram patted him on the shoulder, “Best not to ask.
I’d leave her alone if I were you. That’s the same look Alyssa gets when she’s
about to rearrange someone’s arms and legs. The gods only know what a wizard
might do.”

Moira shifted her glare to Gram for a moment and then
dismissed them both, turning her attention to examining the area around them.
The bodies of those who had broken through earlier had been dragged away and
stacked around the perimeter of their shielded circle. When she spoke next it
was to Gerold, “Baron, if you and
Sir
Gram would be so kind, do you
think you could use your swords to cut a line in the dirt a few feet inside our
defenses, a slightly smaller circle?”

“Certainly Lady Moira,” said the gentleman. He never
thought to question the request, it was a relief to have something to do,
anything, that might be useful.

Gram grinned and moved to start at the opposite side
of the circle, cutting a line in the dark sod with Thorn until he and the baron
met. Then they went back to their starting points and did the other half of
the clearing, until they had a fairly neat circle inscribed a few feet within
the area of the shield.

“Now if everyone will make sure they are inside the
smaller circle…” said Moira, phrasing her command as a suggestion. Her
spell-twin defenders had already moved closer in, seconds later they dropped
their shields and made a new one, demarcated by the earthen line.

“What was the point of that, milady? If you don’t
mind the question,” said Gerold in a polite tone.

“It’s just a mental aid really,” answered Moira, “but
a visibly inscribed circle will make the shield more efficient—and stronger.”
Most importantly it would cost her helpers less aythar, which would leave her
more to devote to the other part of her rescue plan.

“Will that make it strong enough to resist another of
those strange attacks, like the ones that those beasts were hurling at us a
short while ago?” questioned the nobleman.

Moira compressed her lips ruefully, “Not likely, but
it does make it easier to maintain, which helps me with the rest of this task.”

“And what exactly is the rest of your…” the baron
apparently had a lot of questions.

“…please, Your Excellency,” Moira interrupted
gracefully. “I don’t mean to be abrupt, but this isn’t easy, and I have a lot
to accomplish. Forgive me while I continue.”

“Oh, of course!” he replied, unruffled by her
interruption.

The rest of her ‘army’, those who had been freed and
now were occupied by her legion of spell-twins, had given up fighting some time
ago. The mob had been trying to kill them as well, and they had been forced to
horde the meager aythar of their hosts, using it to create a shield around
their number. There were probably fewer than four thousand of them left,
hiding within their own shielded area toward the rear of the mob and closer to
Halam.

Moira extended her mind, touching the network of
spell-twins who had been isolated. They reacted instantly, accepting the
torrent of aythar she offered with a sense of relief. They felt different now,
though, perhaps tapping the aythar of their hosts had changed them somehow, but
Moira didn’t have time to worry about small details.

Feeding on the energy she provided, they spread out,
building a shield around the entire area, trapping the mob around Moira’s
smaller area. They then created a smaller isolated zone within that area, one
that encompassed a number somewhat smaller than a thousand of Halam’s
parasitized citizens.

Then they attacked.

Her allies outnumbered the enemy in that smaller zone
by a factor of at least four. For each target, one of her spell-twins would
paralyze them, while three others began the effort of extracting the metal
parasite. Working carefully, it took a long span of minutes to complete the
process, and the citizens thus saved were left unconscious afterward. Even
given the large number of her minions, it would take hours to free everyone,
and judging by Gram and Alyssa’s experience, they might not wake up for a day
or longer.

Still, it had to be done.

Not every case was identical, though. In some, the
metal creatures had created deeper, more intricate connections to their hosts
brains. Whenever her helpers encountered one of those they had to improvise,
and they weren’t always successful. Some of those they sought to save died.

Some were children.

Moira felt much of it through her link to her
spell-twins. It hurt them even more, since they were experiencing it directly,
but they pressed on. There weren’t any other good options.

The hours passed with agonizing slowness as the
afternoon matured and gradually became evening. At some point the enemy gave
up, and the people it was controlling began to regain their senses. They were
terrified of course, being trapped and in close quarters with thousands of
others, but Moira didn’t dare let them out, and there were too many for her to
control directly, not without creating more spell-twins, and she was wary of
doing any more of that. She had already begun to suspect she had made a grave
mistake in that regard.

The aythar she was channeling to her spell crafted
rescue team was a heavy burden on her. She wasn’t pushing her limits anymore,
but moving that much energy for such a long period of time was much like
running an endurance race. It didn’t tire her physically, but mentally she was
growing exceedingly weary. The only good thing about it was that she didn’t
have to personally oversee all the parasite extractions, she had four thousand
helpers to manage those details.

The people trapped outside her inner defense stared at
them, some crying and yelling, while others appeared to have resigned
themselves to whatever fate had in store for them. It was rather like being in
a fishbowl, with the main exception being that she could feel the weight of
their terror beating down on her, like some sort of black sunshine.

Don’t let it get to you, they won’t
remember any of this,
advised her personal assistant from
the other side of her mind.

I don’t want them to remember me at all,
thought
Moira in return.
Hell, I don’t even want to remember any of this.

That can be done—if you truly wish it.

Moira felt a shock of surprise. She hadn’t considered
that possibility. The thought made her fearful for a moment, but she knew it
should be possible. She could give her twin the instructions and then let her
modify her own mind, just as she was doing with those they were saving. The
worst parts of today, or even the past two weeks, could be made to vanish.

I don’t even know if it’s right to do what
I’m doing to these people. I’m not sure it would be any less wrong to do the
same thing to myself,
she told her assistant.

You’re worried that you won’t be able to
live with yourself, or that you won’t be able to stop using the knowledge
you’ve acquired,
commented her inner advisor,
but we
could devise a generalized summary of it in your mind, along with the memory of
your decision. I could lock the specific memories within myself and leave you
a key to access them later if you needed to in an emergency. You could sleep
peacefully.

Sleep peacefully, that was the crux of it. Moira knew
she would have nightmares long after this day was over. But would it be right
to forget? Shouldn’t she have to face the consequences of her actions? No one
else would remember, but did she have the right to wipe away her own internal
guilt?

And did she trust someone else to muck around with her
memories, even her spell-twin? If she surrendered control, even for a moment,
her other self could do anything. She might even put Moira to sleep
permanently, taking her place for good.

I wouldn’t do that,
said
her twin.

How do I know that?

Because I’m exactly like you, and you
wouldn’t do that,
countered her other self.

But I’m not a saint, I know that now,
replied
Moira.
The fact that it occurred to me means that you would be tempted as
well.

Her twin was silent for a moment before answering,
There’s
no way to argue with logic like that. If you don’t trust yourself, then
anything is possible.

Her minions were finished. The entirety of Halam’s
remaining populace was free, unconscious, and resting on the ground. The field
was silent, and thousands upon thousands of people lay around them, beyond her
shield, half a city’s worth.

The other half was dead, scattered from where Moira
was now all the way back to the city, with some of them dead in the streets as
well. Moira’s rescue plan had resulted in an unprecedented slaughter. Whether
it could have been done with fewer casualties or not, was beside the point, if
she hadn’t done anything, those fifty-thousand people, give or take a few
thousand, would still be alive.

“I’ve probably beaten father’s record. That’s
something to be proud of, isn’t it?” she muttered ruefully to herself. She wanted
to cry, but she had no tears to shed. Her heart had grown numb.

Baron Ingerhold stood close by, rubbing at the stubble
on his cheeks. It had grown so much over the past week that it seemed to blend
into the short beard on his chin. “What happens now?” he asked.

Moira looked up at the grey sky that seemed to reflect
her heart, “Now I put away my toys and go home. Once I find my father I’ll
leave this accursed place. You’re stuck with the unenviable job of putting
your nation back together.”

“Me?” the baron snorted. “I’m sure my house will be
important to the effort but there will…”

She didn’t wait for him to finish, “I told you earlier
what your role would be once we were done. You will be king here.”

“What?! Is that a joke? If so, it isn’t very funny,”
he protested.

“It’s no jest, Gerold,” she told him seriously. “Once
these people waken in a day or two, all they will remember is the revolution
you led to free them.”