Lance of Earth and Sky

“Veda,” Iridan cried, and the wave of misery that echoed with his word nearly made the gorge rise in Vidarian's throat. “No one was supposed to know about her…”

Vidarian touched Rai's shoulder, and he swooped closer to Iridan.

“Parvidian swore us to silence,” the automaton said miserably. “More than that. We are all under a geis and cannot speak her name unless we see her.”

“What is she?”

“The sorcerous automaton. The only one of us endowed with elemental ability. But it made her dark and volatile, angry. Parvidian wanted to destroy her, but the emperor would not permit him. So he put her into a sleep long before the rest of us succumbed to the Dwindling.”

Another spear of fire sizzled past, and he urged Rai back toward the flagship, now with trepidation. The dragon growled, sharing his desire for destruction, but Vidarian put a hand on his shoulder, asking for patience.

When Rai drew up before the ship, Vidarian expected them to open fire again, but instead Justinian raised his hand in greeting. “Good evening, Captain! It seems our paths are destined to interweave.”

“You dare suggest that this is not your intent?” Vidarian said, gesturing to the gryphons lifting from the ground below.

“Hardly,” Justinian shouted, and even across that distance managed dryness. “There have been rumors, as you know, of a so-called resistance movement—a destructive group of renegades bent on throwing the empire into chaos. We have come once and for all to quell it. I certainly did not expect you to be a part of it.”

“You expect to be able to murder the emperor without answer?” Rage rattled his voice, and Rai growled beneath him.

“An outrageous and hurtful accusation! You cast us as villains, Vidarian,” Justinian said. “But we do only what we must for the benefit of the new world. And when that new world arrives, you will not refuse it your leadership. If we must bear the onus of the ugly task that purchases it, we will.”

“Turn back,” Vidarian said. “Turn back and gather your pennies while you may, or I will kill you, and destroy every ship in your fleet.”

“Veda,” Justinian said, quite as if he had not heard Vidarian. “Perhaps we should demonstrate the strength of the resources we bring to bear.”

“We should not,” Veda said, her voice an echoing labyrinth, twisting and unnerving where Iridan's had been harmonizing and light. “Let Ruby end this.”

Justinian's shoulders tensed, clearly not pleased with this idea, and his head turned just fractionally toward Veda before straightening. “Of course. Go and speak with her, Vidarian. See what she makes of your plea.”

The satisfaction in Justinian's voice made him want to destroy the ship with his bare hands, and Rai's growling increased, but Vidarian forced himself to restraint. If they attacked now, there would never be an opportunity to dissuade Ruby, and whatever catastrophic power they had endowed her with, from attacking the resistance. For surely she was the weapon that had been so rumored to be in the Company's possession.

At his direction, Rai dove, plummeting toward the ground. He swooped up at the last second, backwinging to a hover just in front of the giant golden automaton.

Her metal body was five times the height she had been in life, half again as tall as Rai had he been on the ground. It glittered with elemental gems, larger ones than he had ever seen, an unbelievable amount of wealth that made Iridan's body look shabby and sparse by comparison. In her face there was not even a token gesture of humanity; the prism key rested at its center, framed by two glowing amethyst gems, giving her a three-eyed visage with no hint of the Ruby he had known. Only her presence, the proximity of her mind, was unmistakable.

“Your little pest has quite grown,” Ruby said. Her voice was familiar and unfamiliar at the same time—half the Ruby that was, half something else, something alien and cold.

“He's turned out to be quite useful.” At this Rai snorted, a flash of lightning arcing toward Ruby. It struck her chest, but without effect, and she chuckled, a hollow sound. “Why are you doing this, Ruby? Do you know what the Company has done? What the resistance is defending?”

“What I know is that Oneira and the Company have done what you could not: restored me to a body.”

“I can hear it in your voice, Ruby. You aren't complete. You never will be.”

“When the Company has completed its errands and returned stability to this continent and others, the rise in magical resources will allow them to return me to all that I was—and more. Oneira has sworn it.”

Vidarian hesitated. From all that Khalesh had said, what Ruby was describing sounded impossible. But her current shape before him seemed equally so. “And what are you willing to pay for that? You know that they intend to kill millions of people?”

“And when the Imperial Armada would have wiped out all of my people, what then? Living innocent lives miles away from any imperial shore, they would die—was that justice? Or is it the strong seizing what they can? There is no justice in this world, Vidarian. Justice is a poor illusion to salve the pride of the weak.”

“The flaw in your sentiment, Ruby, is that your people are fighting with me, and with the Imperial Armada. They fight for their families and what they hold dear.”

“Then they are as foolish as you are.”

“And so you'll kill them? Innocent people, your own kindred, you'll destroy them for the sake of a Company your mother fought every day of her life?”

“You've always lacked the stomach for what is necessary.”

With that she unleashed a lash of water energy, and Vidarian shouted to Rai with his mind as the ripples of it warned him. Rai dropped his right wing and fell through the air, narrowly avoiding the strike, and then flattened out, skimming just above the ground and pumping his wings to regain altitude.

Vidarian, you've got to help me, the Starhunter said. She was in his mind as abruptly as she had ever been, and some far-off corner of Vidarian was surprised she was sticking to the same bit for such a long time. She usually became bored much more quickly.

“I'm a trifle occupied just now,” Vidarian muttered, leaning to one side to throw his weight in Rai's favor as he sliced downward in the air to avoid another bolt of thundering water.

Siiiiiiiigh.

“This really isn't the time!” Rai's mouth opened, and a blinding flash of lightning arced from his teeth to Ruby, this time knocking her backwards for half a step.

Here, have some more gryphons. Then will you help me?

The air around them compressed, and suddenly the giant gryphon he had seen with the Starhunter was hovering in the air to his right, and another to his left. Both of them looked heartily confused, even with their strange pupilless eyes, until one of the human foot soldiers was foolish enough to loose an arrow in their direction.

The two gryphons screamed challenges and dove down over the army, peppering the ground with bolts of flesh-eating energy that unmade soldiers—or pieces of soldiers—wherever it touched. The gorge crept up Vidarian's throat, and he had to avert his eyes.

Well, look at the mess you've made. It's going to take me hours to get their attention back.

“I made!” he shouted, then clamped down on it. “I'll help you after all this is over,” Vidarian grunted, and Rai angled upward, fighting again for height.

Yay!

Cannons boomed overhead, and the Company's fleet began unleashing fireshot toward the advancing resistance fighters. The gryphon wings had closed the distance, and half now joined the two giant celestial gryphons in harrying the army, while the other half circled around the fleet, grouping together and picking individual ships to dive onto and attack. Many were powerful magicians, and unleashed tornadoes of wind or lances of fire that struck decks and sails. But the Company mercenaries were battle-hardened and not dissuaded even by their onslaught, firing back with muskets and arrows, fireshot and cannon.

Ruby was the variable. She had not yet displayed the fullness of her ability, Vidarian knew; from her pauses between strikes, he suspected she might be still learning those capabilities. In her inexperience should be his advantage; if he could use her own magic against her, draw her into overextending herself—

A shadow passed over them, and Vidarian looked up, shocked to see the imperial flagship descending toward the ground. Its topmast was wreathed in flame that burned too hot to be natural. Far above it, there were three gryphon baskets, each containing several fire priestesses; Endera had settled on a method of attack, it would seem.

Bringing down the flagship could only be a good thing. Vidarian urged Rai toward it.

Rai roared, an echoing sound that thundered in his chest beneath Vidarian's legs, and lightning crackled out from his clawed wingtips, striking the sails of the ship over and over. Wherever it touched, it blackened the silk, which fell away in powdered char moments after the lightning passed.

The ship crashed to the ground, its bow cracking under the weight of the burning wreckage above it. Sailors—those who had survived the crash—streamed out of it, fleeing for the ranks of the army.

As the gryphons continued to harry the land troops and the seridi dove amidst the remaining imperial skyships, the three resistance skyships, with the Luminous at their rear, closed in. Cannons fired, raining down on the army, and elemental magic flashed from the resistance ships, and back again from weapons aboard the Company's.

Ruby turned her attention to the resistance ships, releasing hammer after hammer of water that battered at their hulls. One of her assaults snapped a forward mast on the Argentium, sending it and the sailors beneath it pitching to their deaths, and another soaked the lowest gundeck of the Viere d'Inar, disabling it. If Ruby recognized her own ship, she gave no sign, and attacked it as viciously as any of the others. In that moment, Vidarian finally realized that whatever Ruby had become had no connection to the friend he had known most of his life. His chest caved inward, and he grieved.

Below, a black-grey figure was struggling from the wreckage of the imperial titan ship. Veda blew out a piece of the hull with a sear of fire, then turned, helping Justinian through the fissure. She made a high-pitched whistling call, and three of the cavalry separated from the land force, galloping to them.

Vidarian drew into himself, using his grief to harden his resolve, and reached out with water drawn from all around them. He formed a twisting vortex of it, and then, when its strength had peaked, drew his fire through it, turning them until they locked together in a lance of white energy. He released it, and it hurtled down toward Justinian.

Veda looked up, then sliced at the air with her hand, bringing first a cut of fire and then another of water to deflect the lance.

“Lovely trick,” Veda said. “I think I'll borrow it.” Then, stunningly fast, she repeated his hard-won feat, twisting water into a coil and infusing it with fire, releasing the blast back at him. He rushed through another summoning of the energy, managing it just in time to deflect hers, and then the cavalry reached them, swinging Justinian behind them and dashing back for the land forces. Rai screamed a battle challenge and struck after them with lightning, but only managed to catch the last one, missing Justinian.

Now Ruby and Veda turned toward Vidarian, preparing more lethal strikes. The air dried as they drew the water from it.

A golden sear of fire struck the ground near Veda's foot, interrupting her. It came from high above, and Vidarian squinted against the black smoke still pouring from the fallen skyship.

An old gryphon hovered above them, near skeletal, missing several of his primaries and working to keep himself in the air.

// Dance with me, // Malinai said.

Veda looked up, her violet eyes flaring bright, and hissed, a hybrid of animal and machine sound. She turned her attack upward.

Malinai's wings arced above him, and a torrent of fire, the largest and brightest Vidarian had ever felt, hurtled down toward the automaton. It engulfed her, but not in time to stop her own attack, which blistered white-hot toward him, a boiling fusion of water and fire.

“Malinai!” Vidarian cried, and Rai roared, electricity arcing from his wings.

// It is an honorable death! // Malinai called back, sun-bright exultation in his voice. // I go to Ele'cherath! // And he dove, wings furled, talons extended, straight into the attack, and with him went a ball of white-hot fire that grew stronger the closer he came to the ground.

Veda visibly panicked, her arms flying to her sides—but then her hands came up, the world warped—

And a hole in the universe opened up before her.

Time seemed to still, all save Malinai, who still hurtled toward that point. He engulfed Veda, burning his heat so strong it began to melt her body before he even struck her. The fire sphere around him grew so bright that it flared into explosion, setting afire the very air, too bright to see.

When it faded, they both were gone.

Vidarian and Rai turned back to Ruby, hardly comprehending what they had just seen, but unable to put aside her very real threat. Her metal arms were uplifted, pointing at the sky, releasing a two-handed strike of water, a hurricane blast that tore into the hull of the Skyfalcon.

At first Vidarian couldn't see why she would waste such a huge attack on the smaller skyship while he and the Viere remained in the air—and then he saw Ariadel, a dimming halo of fire wreathing her hands, falling from the broken bow.

Rai read his thoughts before he spoke them, bellowing a protest, buffeting the air with his wings in a desperate bid for speed.

They tore after her, and the spiral of water from Ruby caught Rai's side, only a glancing blow, but one that sent him spinning through the air. Vidarian clung to his back as the world spun around them, and Rai shrieked with rage as he finally righted himself and continued the pursuit.

Ariadel was plummeting toward the ground, still hundreds of lengths away—they weren't going to make it—

A plume of fire opened up beneath her, engulfing her, and Vidarian howled, reaching out with water, knowing it was too far—

The fire stretched, formed wings, then a head, a long neck with a slender beak at the end of it, shockingly blue eyes. It beat its wings, stopping their descent, then lifted, turning, five long plumes of a flaming tail streaming out behind it.

The bird was huge, nearly as large as Rai. At first Vidarian thought Ariadel had somehow created it with her own elemental ability, but that didn't seem possible. It was clearly alive, with its own consciousness, and at any rate he had never heard of elemental magic being shaped into a creature and flown.

It saw Rai and flew toward him, whistling a greeting. The two creatures touched noses, and Vidarian jumped in his seat. “Is that…?”

Ariadel was clinging to the bird's neck, gripping its feathers. “I might…” she panted, “…have to change her name!”

The shapechanger, like Rai, had displayed a third and outrageous form: first cat, then spider, and now…firebird?

A bolt of water shot between them, sending both creatures winging backwards, trying to regain control of their motion.

“We have to destroy her!” Ariadel called.

“How?” Vidarian shouted back, holding tight to his harness as Rai dove again to evade another strike of water from Ruby. “She has some kind of defensive enchantment—we can move her, but nothing we have is big enough to do any damage!”

“Then maybe we can move her—somewhere far.” She gripped a pendant around her neck and shouted. “Arikaar! Khellan! I need Chayim, quickly! And Altair! Send them to the dragon!” It took him a moment to realize what she meant by “to the dragon,” and then he saw that, for miles around, he and the skyships were the two most visible objects—with names they would recognize, at any rate, excluding Raven—in the sky.

The gryphons closed quickly, Altair from high above, and the other, a black-plumaged gryphon, from behind the Argentium. Below, and spread across the field, fallen foot soldiers and cavalry lay everywhere, and five more of the dozen imperial skyships had been brought down by fire. The air now was thick with smoke, though as Altair arrived, a circle of breathable air arrived with him, a relief.

“We need to open a gate,” Ariadel said to them. Altair looked startled, and the other, which must be Chayim, nodded. He looked something like Arikaree in his long, gawky neck and irregular feathers, but his face was a vulture's, bald to pink skin and complete with a long wattle that draped from his nares. He was, by a significant margin, the most hideous gryphon Vidarian had ever seen.

But he was also the one who knew how to be the primary conduit for a gate-opening.

The magic was similar to what had opened the Great Gate, though without the frame for the energy, it was significantly more difficult. On top of this, they would have to open a very large portal, enough for Ruby's entire massive body. And it required energy from all four elements, as well as one, like Vidarian, that could bridge multiple elements.

Chayim clacked his talons together, creating a rough rhythm. A strange feeling clawed at the pit of Vidarian's stomach, and he realized it was the indirect way he was sensing the manifestation of Chayim's earth. Altair's joined him, detectable only as an increase in the breeze, and Chayim's cluck of approval.

Ariadel pulled fire from herself and from the wreckage of the titan ship, siphoning it over to Chayim. And Vidarian pulled forth his own, forcing his nearly exhausted mind to lock the elements together into a single force. This he passed to the vulture-gryphon, who tipped his beak in thanks.

“Hold it!” Ariadel cried. “Steady!”

Another attack opened from below, and Rai squealed, sidling into its path. He lashed at the arc of water with his tail, disrupting it—taking some of its damage onto himself, and shaking away as much of it as he could. Beneath his knees Vidarian could feel the dragon's torso contorting with pain.

“There!” Ariadel shouted.

And indeed, below, the hole in the world was opening beneath Ruby's feet. She made a terrible, shrieking noise of negation, thrashing in an attempt to escape—but her hands and feet found only air, and she vanished.

The portal remained for several moments, pulling at the base of Vidarian's gut, and then Chayim let it go, snapping it shut and returning the brush and grass to their rightful arrangement.

// That was very well done, // Altair said, addressing both Ariadel and Chayim, and Ariadel smiled.

“Where did we send her?” Vidarian asked.

“I don't know!” Ariadel replied. “It opened too quickly! She could be anywhere! Malu, Shen Ti, the bottom of the ocean!”

But Ruby's sudden disappearance rippled through the remaining imperial forces, a wave of shock and horror. Bells rang out from the front skyship, and those behind it quickly took up the toll.

The army began to turn around, and the remaining skyships with them. From all around, the victory cries of gryphons filled the sky.