Resurrected Soldiers: The Tyrus Chronicle - Book Three (9 page)

If the situation was not so grim, Ava might have snorted. The teen didn’t show the panic one might expect after hearing the plan could fall apart.

Girl is more mature than her age. She paused. But then circumstances sort of forced her to be.

Ava blew out a slow breath. “Sure. Maybe.”

* * *

The basement was unimpressive to put it politely. It was nothing like what they had taken shelter in below the Hemlock Inn following the second eruption in Denu Creek. This basement lacked headroom to stand, and there certainly wasn’t enough space for people to stretch out. Sitting huddled, or standing hunched were the only two options. Most had opted for the former by the time Ava and Myra joined the others.

No matter how close people sat or stood, room was still an issue. More than a dozen people stood outside the basement entrance, little more than a hole in the ground, shuffling around nervously while trying to direct others already in the space on where to go to create more room.

Sivan said. “We’ve got a problem.”

“There’s no problem,” hissed Rezub near the opening. “People just need to move where I tell them. Not there,” he snapped at someone, then pointed. “I said over there.”

“There’s no room,” a voice shouted upward.

“Make room,” he said with panic.

“Stop it,” said Ava to Rezub. “Yelling at someone for something they can’t control won’t do any good.”

Sivan shook his head. “This is my fault. I should have looked the space over, and taken some quick measurements.”

“When? You were out scouting up until a few minutes ago. You had no time. If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine,” said Ava. “I was here. I should have considered this.”

Molak-be-damned, Tyrus. This is why I shouldn’t be running things. You wouldn’t have missed this.

“You were just as busy as Sivan, Aunt Ava. Truthfully, we all should have thought of this,” said Myra, biting her lip.

Sivan sighed. “What are we going to do to fix this?” He paused, thinking. “There’s that small attic on the other side of the courtyard above the old storage shed. Why can’t the rest of us just hide there?”

Myra’s eyes shifted ever so slightly to Ava. It was subtle, but Ava noticed it.

She wonders if I could protect them over there.

Ava opened her mouth. “I-I’m not sure if I could extend myself that far.”

“That far?” asked Rezub. “It’s just across the courtyard.”

“I know. But I’m already tired from all the camouflaging I’ve done. It is much easier to cast and hold a spell in a tight area, rather than extend it. Before the eruptions I could have done it.” She swore. “Ao-be-damned, just not now.”

“I have a solution,” said Sivan. “However, it’s one that many won’t like. At best, all but ten people will be able to fit inside the basement. Those ten will back up our six ghosts.”

“I don’t follow,” said another.

“In the event we don’t fool the Malduks, then it is up to the ten people not hiding in the basement to protect those that are.”

Rezub said, “You’re worse than Tyrus. He took chances, but he could at least count. How do you expect ten people to defeat several hundred?”

“He doesn’t,” said Myra in a low voice.

Everyone went silent after Myra’s answer, better understanding Sivan’s plan.

A suicide mission. Gods-be-damned. I should be able to prevent these sorts of decisions, just like I should have been able to stop half the crap we went through on the road to get here.

“Someone will keep a lookout at the door to the barracks,” Sivan explained. “If it looks like the Malduks aren’t retreating, or that they’re pushing through despite what our ghosts are doing, then the ten will need to draw them away from the cellar. Our best bet would be to head for the mountains where we might be able to shake them once we’re sure we were spotted and they’re pursuing.”

Myra added thoughtfully. “They’ll still look in this room as well as elsewhere in the outpost, but it won’t be nearly as in depth if they think anyone who was here already fled. Being distracted with the ten, should make it easier for Aunt Ava to keep those in the basement hidden.”

Hopefully.

“You’re sending us to our deaths,” hissed Rezub.

“We don’t do this and we’ll be sending everyone to their deaths,” said Sivan.

His voice tried to stay hard, but Ava could see that the situation was trying.

It’s why neither of us wanted to lead.

“You and Ava need to get below,” said Sivan, breaking the silence. “There’s still twelve of us left after that. Let me decide which nine will stay out here with me.”

“But—” started Ava.

He touched Ava briefly on the arm and gently guided her to the entrance, “Tyrus trusted us to watch over everyone. You have your job to keep them hidden. This one is mine.”

What can I say to that?

Sivan wrapped Myra in a hug while urging her toward the hole in the floor.

Just that he’s a good man.

A dagger like stab twisted in Ava’s gut. She had been around enough hard decisions in the military, but that didn’t mean watching another was any easier.

She cursed the gods silently, still blaming them for their situation because of the artifact.

I hate you all.

* * *

Ava knelt with the hatch to the basement door a foot overhead. She faced a wall less than a foot from her face. The position made it easier to ignore and block out the people behind her.

Younger kids pitched fits, not understanding the gravity of the situation. Those were hushed by mothers who fought back tears for the people risking their lives above. Some kids whined about being bored, hungry, or tired. Teenagers said nothing, just staring off into space.

Mothers and the couple of fathers forced to stay below did what they could to keep the noise down.

Not enough. Not nearly enough so that I won’t have to work hard in muting the rest.

Elderly men and women made matters worse, muttering prayers for everyone above and below ground. Ava was sure that in their minds they were setting a proper example of how to handle adversity to others. They annoyed her most.

At least the elderly no longer decree that these times are nothing like as difficult as when they were kids. Hard for them to compare a harsh winter to the world ending.

Ava glanced briefly to her sides.

Damaris was on her left, head half down, eyes close to tears. She’d blink slowly every couple of seconds before gazing at the basement hatch. Ever since she said good-bye to her father, the woman seemed to be in a daze.

But she wasn’t surprised by his decision.

Myra sat near Damaris with Zadok between them. Myra looked little better than Damaris. Her head shook slightly every few moments, as she clenched her jaw.

Ava knew that look well. She had seen Tyrus wear it on more than one occasion.

Running through the details one last time. Determining what they could have done better.

Zadok held Myra’s hand, and squeezed it tight. The concern he wore seemed focused on his sister’s state of mind rather than his own well-being. He caught Ava looking at them and flashed a small smile of reassurance as if to say they were fine, and not to worry.

Easier said than done.

She turned to her other side where Nason leaned against a wall. His children sat huddled around him, his youngest in his lap. The fear Nason wore was obvious. Still, he smiled for Ava too. The sincerity of it actually eased her worries for the briefest of moments. It wasn’t much, but the reprieve was welcome.

This is too much. Too many people are counting on me.

He mouthed, “You’ll be fine.”

She furrowed her brow. “Are you a mind reader now?” she whispered.

“No, but I believe in you.”

The comment took her aback, and she wanted to ask where it came from. However, a hiss from above cut off her question. Everyone in the basement heard the noise and quieted.

On the edge of silence, the thundering of approaching horses could be heard.

Rezub whispered from above. “The Malduks are here.”

He had said he would relay any information he could to them before it became too risky to say anything at all.

Ava felt bile creep into the back of her throat. She swallowed down the burning sensation, took a deep breath, and began to focus on her upcoming task.

In the past, she probably would have cast the intended spell at that warning and then maintained it until all was clear. However, she didn’t have that kind of power anymore. The longer she held a spell, the more it wore her down. Considering that she not only had to deter anyone from seeing and checking the basement entrance, but also had to mask the sounds and smells of dozens of people below ground along with the ten above, she wanted as much strength as possible.

The pounding hooves calmed. Shouts in the Malduk language followed, muffled and distant.

“First one’s coming through the gatehouse,” said Rezub.

A bone-chilling scream sounded. Panic and confusion among the Malduks erupted.

“Found the first trap.”

Ava heard too much glee in his voice.

Don’t get excited. They’re not scared yet.

“More are coming into the outpost and splitting up.”

A few more agonizing moments of silence followed. Ava began part of her spell as some of the younger children acted up.

More screams erupted.

“We got ’em. At least eight. Sivan says they’re all running out, gesturing wildly. They look pretty spooked.”

A couple of hopeful whispers from the basement sounded behind her. The enthusiasm almost got to her.

You know better. Things never work out so easily.

As if her thought set events into motion, the panic of the Malduks settled. A hushed curse came from Rezub.

“Their leader calmed them. More are entering the outpost. They’re fanning out in larger groups now.”

She heard his anxiety.

A scream erupted. It wasn’t in the Malduk language. It was followed by another. Then a third. The last was a curse to Prax.

“They discovered our ruse. Sivan says we have to go.” Rezub paused, briefly. “We’ll do our best.”

Shuffling sounded, then silence. More shouts from the Malduks rang out a couple moments later.

They’ve been spotted.

Ava immediately withdrew into herself, blocking out as much sensory input except what was necessary. Quickly she linked all the pieces of the spells she had begun minutes before and drew up the concealment.

On the brim of her consciousness, she heard Malduk voices enter the space above them.

Heavy footsteps pounded as someone walked about the room. The steps passed eerily close to the hatch in the floor hidden by her sorcery.

An unfamiliar voice spoke in what sounded like disappointment. The footsteps faded.

Someone behind Ava sighed as if the worse was over. Ava knew better, but she couldn’t say so. She had too much to focus on.

CHAPTER 7

Ava woke with a start.

Her head spun and her breath caught in her throat.

She sat up blinking, inhaling the old, stale air of the basement. It was empty.

What?

The last thing she remembered was squeezing her eyes shut in concentration, fighting against pain and fatigue to maintain the spells she used to mask their location in the basement. She recalled snippets of sounds, mostly hushed whispers or snapped hisses. Nason’s had been dominant among the others.

“Don’t make my father’s death be one of vain,” Damaris had pleaded to a woman who could not stop asking questions.

The comment was one of a few she specifically remembered.

She recalled a touch on her arm. Nason told her it was all right, that she could relax.

Then nothing.

She blinked again, a hand going to her temple where it felt like a massive horse galloped inside her head. Arms wrapped around her tightly.

“You’re awake,” Zadok said low, hugging her from behind.

She turned to his wide smile. The boy kissed her on the cheek then looked over his shoulder and called up the hatch of the basement.

“She’s awake!”

A few murmurs followed, then fast pattering of feet.

Myra’s face appeared next, but only for a moment before she wrapped Ava in a hug as well, practically pushing Zadok aside.

Ava didn’t know what else to do except continue blinking while she brought an arm up to reciprocate the embrace. She and Tyrus were close, but they never showed much in the way of physical affection. They hadn’t needed to in her mind. Their love was understood. And though she had exchanged a hug or two quickly with her niece and nephew since her return, the signs of affection were nothing like this. The genuine love warmed her, bringing forth conflicting emotions. In some ways it made her uncomfortable, but in other ways she wished for more.

Maybe I’m not doing so badly of being an aunt as I thought.

“We were so worried,” Myra said.

“Obviously,” Ava joked.

“How do you feel?” Myra asked, pulling back.

“Awful.” She cleared her throat, which helped a little. “What happened with the Malduks?”

Myra started to answer when Nason’s voice interrupted by the hatch opening.

“You’re awake! How do you feel?”

“Really bad headache. And I’m thirsty.”

“I can imagine.” He threw down a water skin. Someone shouted his name outside and he swore, worry riding his expression. “Sorry, I need to go see about that.”

Myra turned to Ava. “I should probably give him a hand. Some of the people are getting combative.”

Ava started to push herself up. “Maybe I should—”

“Rest for a minute,” said Myra. “You’ve been out for a while. Let Zadok fill you in until you’re all right to stand.”

“Hey, who’s the adult and who’s the child here?” teased Ava.

Myra forced a smile, kissed her on the brow, and went up the hatch.

Ava took a drink of water, then turned to Zadok. “Start talking.”

“It wasn’t long after Sivan and the others left that you sort of went into a trance. You were conscious, but it was like you didn’t hear anything.”

She nodded, drinking more.

“The Malduks came and searched the space a couple more times, but never found anything. We could hear them outside. Smell them too.” He made a face. “Thankfully, they didn’t stay at the outpost long. Myra worried they might make camp for the night. The noise and odor went away. Some wanted to go up then, but Nason wouldn’t let them. He said it might be a trap. Damaris backed him. So we waited for a long time, but eventually someone had to look. He tried to check with you, but you were still in that trance and eventually just blacked out. After we got you settled, Nason went upstairs and searched. There were no signs of the Malduks. He selected a group of people to help with . . . well, the bodies of the volunteers.”

The dead ghosts.

“He made that call?”

“Yeah, reluctantly. I guess he felt like he needed to with Sivan gone and you unconscious. Myra helped as much as he would let her.”

She was proud of Nason for stepping up, especially because she knew he wasn’t that sort of person.

But sometimes we’re forced into things we don’t want to be.

“What next? And where’s Sivan?” Ava asked, finishing off the water.

She felt strong enough to get her stiff and numb feet under her. She stood hunched, and went to the hole.

“Once they got the dead cleared, Nason came back and let everyone else out,” Zadok said from behind. “A couple of small search parties went out looking for Sivan and the others. There’s been no sign of them.”

That might be a good thing knowing the Malduks.

A hand from above reached down to Ava.

Gila, a small woman with big blue eyes who had been with them since Denu Creek, helped Ava up. She forced a smile when their gaze met. “Thank you. You saved me and my son.”

Ava met those blue eyes and felt a stab of pain. They were tired and red. Smudges ran down her cheeks where tears had washed away some of the dust and grime.

Ava bobbed her head, acknowledging the comment before walking outside. She had almost said you’re welcome, but stopped herself, unable to focus on the thanks. Instead, she thought about what hadn’t been said.

Her and her son. Not husband. He was one who left with Sivan’s group.

She closed her fists, stabbing her palms with her nails.

If only I had my old skills. I could have done more. Much more.

The outside world she stepped into was bright, but then again just about anything would seem bright after coming from the murky hole in the ground. Not much had changed. The sky was still gray, and grayer clouds still rolled overhead. A slight breeze and a small nip in the air made it feel like winter was right around the corner despite it being several months away from the usual season change.

The outpost itself didn’t look any different either. Still old, worn, and dirty.

The changes came from the people walking or standing about. Their eyes appeared more vacant, their shoulders more hunched. Ava was willing to bet that if someone suggested they just all give up on life, quite a few wouldn’t argue.

A person could only take so much death, pain, and worry. Most people needed mountain peaks to weather the deep valleys they had suffered through the last few months.

All we’ve gotten is a couple of molehills. Then it’s right back down into the Xank-forsaken abyss.

She didn’t often curse the Turine god of death, but given the hollow stares on many of the people around them, it seemed fitting.

We need to move. The waiting and inaction will only make things worse for everyone.

She knew that much from the military. Even after an awful defeat like Wadlow Hill, General Balak never let up on them. There was always something to do. The man had driven them hard until victories started coming again, and defeats were just a bad memory.

Only problem is he drove us so hard we rarely a chance to rest. Or a chance to mourn.

That was no good either.

She scanned the faces as best as she could. It appeared that more people were missing than there should have been.

That also can’t be good.

She spotted Myra and Nason among a handful of women and men who still had enough of their wits to be a nuisance. Several raised their voices and pointed.

Ava followed the gestures of the people as she walked over. A pile of lumps covered in old blankets lay off in the corner of the courtyard. Red blotches soaked through the blankets.

Zadok was on Ava’s heels. “Don’t walk so fast. You still look really tired.”

“That’s not important right now.”

“That’s my husband over there!” shouted one of the women.

“My son is in there too!” said another.

“And my Pa!” came a third.

“We know,” said Myra. “Trust us, we know.”

“Trust you?” said one of the women. “They’re dead because of the plans you helped Sivan make.”

Myra hung her head.

Ava shouted before Nason or Myra could respond. “And you’re equally alive because of those same plans. As are your two daughters. I reckon if your husband were alive, he’d be fine with that trade-off.”

“That’s because he was an idiot,” said the woman, tears coming down her face.

“We’re all idiots when it comes to family,” said Nason.

Ava heard the hurt in his voice. He spoke from personal experience as his wife died in Denu Creek when she left a perfectly good hiding spot to check on him.

The woman also understood Nason’s comment, that much was obvious. She wanted to persist, but didn’t.

Instead, she sobbed. “I just want to see him one last time to say goodbye.”

“Not like this,” said Nason, putting a comforting arm around the woman.

“Well, I do,” said the second woman.

Unlike the first woman who seemed to be operating off of grief, it was obvious this one just wanted to throw her weight around, bitter and angry.

“Really?” Ava got in her face, then lowered her voice to a whisper. “You ever thought that they don’t want you over there because of the condition the bodies are in? Knowing the Malduks, you might not even recognize your son.”

“I’d always recognize my son. I carried him for—”

“Stop. Just stop. Don’t start with your holier-than-thou-mother crap. Yes, you had a kid. Good for you. But look,” said Ava gesturing. She did her best to soften her voice. “Your son did a brave thing. And you don’t want the last image of him to be what’s below those blankets. You’re going to want to remember him smiling, laughing, crying, or a hundred other things. I know it’s hard, but trust me.”

The woman’s anger faltered.

“I see.”

She hesitated, then left.

“She had a right to be angry, Aunt Ava,” said Myra.

“Never said she didn’t.”

Myra shook her head. “I should have never gotten involved.”

“Don’t say that,” said Nason. “Your suggestions helped save a lot of people.”

She looked over her shoulder. “They killed a lot too.”

She walked away, shoulders hunched.

Nason made a move to go after her, but Ava steadied his arm. “Zadok, go make sure you sister’s all right.”

He jogged after Myra, slowing as he reached her side. He reached up and rubbed Myra’s back. She put an arm around him and pulled him close as they walked. Thanks to Zadok’s latest growth spurt their difference in height was becoming less noticeable.

Ava smiled bitterly at their gesture as they walked away. The closeness of Zadok and Myra in many ways reminded her of her relationship with Tyrus. It was why she suggested Zadok go after Myra than going after her niece herself. Ava knew they understood each other better than anyone.

I miss you, Big Brother. More than when I left and went off to Hol.

“They’re so young,” said Nason. “They shouldn’t have to face any of this.”

“No one should.”

He waved his hand at what lay around him. “I hate that my kids are part of this.”

“I know.”

He sighed. “I also don’t like being the one in charge. I’ve barely made a handful of decisions, and it’s already eating at me.” He shook his head. “I don’t know why Tyrus does it.”

“In part, because few else are willing to. Also, Tyrus knows what he’s capable of. He’d rather shoulder the blame of his own failures than allow others to make poor decisions in his stead.”

Nason grunted.

She could tell a part of Nason wanted to continue to talk about his worries and burdens, but at the moment Ava didn’t feel like she could help shoulder any of them. She had plenty enough weight to carry.

She changed the subject. “Seems like we’re still missing people. Are they hiding elsewhere?”

“I sent a few people out to check the hills and surrounding areas. Just to make sure the Malduks didn’t leave behind any to watch the outpost. They’re also searching for signs of Sivan and the others. Do you think that was right?”

“I’d have done the same.”

He still looked tense.

Nason had done an admirable job, but she could see that in the long term he would never be even remotely comfortable with the increasing responsibilities and tough decisions of leading. Ava would never feel right taking orders from him because of that.

“Can I count on you when I need you?” she asked.

“You mean—”

“Yeah. That’s what I mean.”

He relaxed. “Always. Whatever you need.”

“Good. For now, why don’t you go say hello to your kids? Then help make sure we’ve got all our supplies together?”

“You’re wanting to leave already?”

“As soon as the others get back.”

“On it.”

He walked away.

Ah, embracing the role, Ava. Even after you know what you’re getting into. Far better than most ever will.

She wondered what she should do to bide her time until those out searching returned.

Help with the supplies?

But then she spotted Damaris sitting alone. Her head was back against the wall, blonde hair both bunched behind her neck and falling loosely over her shoulders. Her eyes were closed, but Ava knew she wasn’t sleeping. The breathing was wrong, the shoulders too tense. She knew that look.

Grief for a loved one.

Most of Ava wanted to walk away from that image. After all, she had cut short an emotional conversation with Nason because she wasn’t sure she could handle it. But this was different. She knew she shouldn’t leave Damaris alone.

If I’m going to take over, then I need to be all in. I can’t keep to myself. If I can’t talk to Damaris, then how am I going to talk to others?

She walked over. Still feeling weak from the sorcery, she concentrated on every footfall, every crunch of dirt while taking long, slow breaths.

Gods, I need to eat something.

Damaris opened her eyes just as Ava reached her. They held a far-off look. The woman tried to force a smile of greeting, but it failed miserably, twisting halfway up on one side.

“You’re up. That’s good,” said Damaris.

Ava nodded. “Mind if I sit next to you?”

“Sure,” said Damaris.

Ava eased herself down, welcoming the wall to lean against.