They continued walking, faster now, their efforts more directed. Logan felt a clutch of fear in his chest at the prospect of what they would find. He had been afraid for some time that he might catch up to the caravan too late, that he might return only to bear witness to its destruction. He had lived in silence with that fear, refusing to admit to it. But now it was full-blown and pressing down on him on like a great weight.
Clouds of dust began to fill the air ahead of them, billowing up from the parched earth to form a broad haze across the horizon. The battle was intense and covered a broad span of ground from north to south. Logan was practically running now, Simralin keeping close.
“Look,” she said, pointing.
Winged forms swept in and out of the haze ahead. Skrails, Logan realized at once. If there were skrails, there were likely once-men and demons close at hand.
Then they crested a long, low rise, and the whole of what was happening ahead was revealed.
THE LITTLEST OF THE CHILDREN were already being led across the narrow span of the dam, hands linked together, a long winding chain of tiny forms, when Angel told Helen to move the vehicles into position in front of the crossing point to form a protective barrier. They would have to make a stand here if there were still children who had not gotten safely over by the time the lead elements of the demon army reached them. Helen selected from among the adults those who would act as defenders and began passing out what weapons they had. The engineers and explosives experts went to work laying charges along the perimeter of the battlefield to help defend against the enemy approach. Everything was pandemonium, a barely controlled chaos that Angel and Helen kept in check with close supervision and repeated reassurances.
When the Lizards and Elves and some of the other creatures who had been traveling with them came down to the dam head and offered to help, Angel made a quick decision.
“Helen, give everyone who volunteers weapons to use, and I’ll put them at the barrier with the others. We need as many defenders as we can manage. No time to get choosy about who we’re using.”
Helen Rice didn’t question her, but handed out what weapons remained, and when those were gone sent the rest of the newcomers down to the dam to help with the children. Angel watched for a few minutes more and then walked up to the barricade of wagons and vehicles and made some last-minute adjustments. Even Logan Tom’s Lightning was pulled into line, its weapons pointed outward, one of the better defenders who’d come up from Los Angeles at the wheel. She wished more than she could say that the other Knight of the Word was there to help. She missed his steady resolve and fierce determination. She found herself wondering anew if she would ever see him again.
Kirisin was there briefly, ashen-faced and edgy amid all the activity, asking finally what they were going to do about Simralin. She had no answer for him. She told him to join the Ghosts and cross to the other side. He was carrying the fate of a nation in the Elfstone tucked in his shirt, and he had to remember that. His sister would tell him the same thing, if she were there. He left with tears in his eyes, unable to look at her.
Helen Rice reappeared. “How are we going to defend when they get here?” she asked.
Angel shook her head. “Send the explosives people down to the dam when they’ve finished with the perimeter. Wire it to explode. Tell them to do the best they can. We’ll slow the attack down, hold the once-men for as long as we can.” She gripped the other woman’s arm. “The truth is, Helen, we’re running out of choices.”
“I know that. I’ve known it for some time.” Helen gave her a brave smile. “But we’re not giving up, Angel. No matter what.”
“No, amiga, we’re not giving up.”
Helen folded her arms and hugged herself. “I’m so afraid.”
Todos tenemos el derecho de sentir miedo, Angel thought. We all have a right to be afraid. She gave the other woman a hug. “Let’s keep working.”
She returned to positioning the armed vehicles and defenders among the haulers and wagons. Some of the latter she ordered overturned to provide better cover. She had the wheels removed from the rest, hoping to prevent the enemy from being able to pull them aside. She was not entirely sure of what else she should do. They relied on her, all of them, Helen included. But she was not the skilled and experienced warrior that Logan Tom was.
She thought momentarily of Johnny, the first time she had done so in days. If he were there, he would know what to do. He would sense instinctively what was needed and see to it that it was done. But her own sense of things paled by comparison and left her feeling inadequate.
The crossing over of the children to the far side of the gorge was almost finished when dust clouds appeared on the horizon and the lead elements of the demon army came into view. Once-men, wild and unkempt, ragged figures numbering first in the hundreds and then in the thousands, crowded forward. They came running across the flats—running! Their makeshift weapons were raised over their heads, and their voices were shrill and frenzied. They made no effort at an organized attack. They simply threw themselves into the fray like animals, their bloodlust driving them.