Fleet of the Mage Page 5

  She had no attention to spare for anyone else in the party. It was imperative that whomever this being was, that although it was immensely powerful, it could not be allowed to harm those whom she loved. She clenched her will, ready to bring up offensive or defensive weapons as necessary, but was startled out of her focus position when Troyer slipped around his father and ran straight toward the operation, yelling as he went, “You leave my grandma alone!”

  Along the edges of her mind, Ruth could feel the apparitions startled acknowledgment of Troyer’s demand and actions. There was a tinge of respect underlying the astonishment which encouraged Ruth to direct a question at the ghost or spirit. What do you wish?

  Ruth realized that the apparition was immensely powerful. The lack of response from the Marine team to the appearance of an apparition in front of Hunter, Pawlik, and Ruth made it very clear that this was a targeted vision. It was not for everyone, only those perhaps that would understand.

  After all of the mental contact that she had had over the last few days that was structured around images and sensory translation, Ruth was considerably astonished to be addressed in what sounded like a spoken language.

  “Partially to inspect you, Mage. You are the first mage in the house of Borachland for many years. The Borachland anchors and their mages have always been of high tone, driven by honor and compassionate to the defeated. Your mind is different. It has a different flavor, different construct. Yours is a more pure anger, leavened with grief and sorrow.”

  The incorporeal creature appeared to lean at her as if staring deeply and closely into her soul. What it found must have startled it, because it reared back in astonishment, exclaiming, “But, but, but… You’re a woman!”

  Knowing that she had a totally reprehensible sense of humor, Ruth could not help but answer, “I was the last time I checked.” As she had feared, the apparition appeared to have no sense of humor.

  At this point, all three heads were staring fixedly at her, so intrigued with what she was saying and doing that they had lost all sense of situational dynamics. The central head, which appeared to be the spokesman for the being responded, “We will have to think about this because we have no way of evaluating a woman’s suitability for the field or position.”

  Before the interaction could go any further, Troyer charged up to the apparition and slapped his hand onto the spirit’s chest. The shock shown on the entity’s heads told Ruth all that she needed to know. Somehow, the little boy had reached through to the spirit plane and was able to touch an entity that had not been touched in eons, perhaps millennia. The ramifications of that kept her frozen just for a moment. When her attention snapped back to the here and now, she heard Troyer completing his speech warning the wyvern of imminent danger if it dared to touch his beloved grandmother.

  The appalled look on Pawlik’s face and the frantic one on Cal’s as he struggled in vain against whatever was holding him inside the vehicle were enough for Ruth. She snapped out a quick command her grandson, “Troyer that’s enough!”

  “As for you, pompous, hubris-filled entity though you are, I assume that you are attempting to provide a useful protection for Borachland and its heirs. I will not tolerate your behavior on any interception of our people nor will I accept any attempt to coerce or control the members of our party.” With that declaration, Ruth clapped her hands together. The sound seemed to weirdly echo all around the area, gaining more sound and speed as it went around and around and around. There was a flash of light, and the wyvern was gone. Ruth reached out her hand, “Troyer, it’s time to finish our journey.”

  Chapter 7 – To the Hot Barrens

  Planet – Borachland Hot Barrens

  The crater was desolate. It was an old impact site, perhaps a large meteor strike, that had happened many, many years ago. The impact formed a crater that had been carved deeply into the surface of the ground, stopping only where the mass of the planet had been equal to absorbing the velocity of the projectile that caused the scar upon the flesh of the planet Arkken. The idea of using the Hot Barrens crater had been Pawlik’s. He felt that the location was good, existing as it did away from any of the smaller villages.

  It was also land that hadn’t proved to be useful for the entire time that the House of Borach had existed. Family legend had it that the first Lord of Borachland had a vision that sometime in the future that the Hot Barrens crater would birth a huge bird flying up into the stars. That legend had been passed down from generation to generation for so many years that even the tutors of the house could not count them. Pawlik thought it was totally appropriate that the construction of a space field that would allow them to travel to the stars would be built on the site of that old vision.

  The crater itself and the surrounding landscape reminded Ruth of the bones of a large carcass. It seemed to her that the structure was there for what they want to build, but age and unkindness had scoured the area of all softness, all comfort. All that was left was distilled strength and harsh reality.

  She could work with reality.

  Their four vehicles pulled up to join a small cluster of larger vehicles at the edge of the crater. The transports that had carried additional security personnel were there, as well as a bus-like transport that had brought people from the village.

  A third pair of vehicles had delivered a variety of workmen, and the hovering crane transport was bobbing up and down gently against its tether. It reminded Ruth of a child’s balloon back on Earth, one filled with helium. The wind wanted to take it, but the string held tautly. The mage hoped that she wouldn’t have to be chasing this particular balloon by the end of the day. She knew she would be tired.

  Everyone got out of the vehicle. The catog was once again invisible. Ruth noticed that Jenna was staring intently at the ground, looking for traces of the catog’s presence. From her disgruntled expression, Ruth assumed that Hunter was not leaving any trace. Or at least not leaving traces the Jenna could follow.

  The hum of other people’s conversations merged into background noise on one side of Ruth’s awareness. She reached out with open hands to touch the air, reaching out with her inner senses to feel the area in a way she could not have described a year ago.

  The smells, the sense, the taste on the back of her tongue gave this area a unique perspective to Ruth. From this day forward she would know it anywhere, anyhow, no matter where she roamed. It was indelibly printed on her mind, her soul, and every sense of her body.

  She felt an upwelling of an elastic and unbeatable energy filling her and spilling out into her hands. Dimly, she heard a gasp of astonishment. She felt the anchoring, that sense of belonging through the hands of Pawlik as they settled on her shoulders. They kept her anchored in this reality, at this moment. She sensed a gathering of energies, something that welled up from the ground itself and filled her with another layer of power, another layer of intensity.

  This was so different than what she had planned that she was a little bit frightened. When they had laid out their plans, they talked about the specific things that she would do, things that they needed at the airport. This was nothing like that.

  This was an organic, growing force that was filling each of their objectives but not necessarily in the way that they had planned.

  Leaning back into Pawlik’s embrace, Ruth brought her hands up and flung them into the air as the energy filled her to overflow. The smashing crash of lightning bolts began to fragment the world around her.

  It seemed as if the world shuddered for just a moment. A huge wind began to blow sand into people’s eyes and whipped the Mage’s hair around her. Her braids came undone. As the hair came undone, it seemed as if some of her braids had been holding additional lightning and wind because the turmoil and chaos of the atmosphere increased radically. The lightning strikes changed in color from a dull purple to a brilliant yellow-white. The strikes pummeled the area. They blanketed the terrain, carving chunks out of edges, pulverizing boulders, and snapping flashes of images that
provided unconnected glimpses of a landscape that was being irrevocably changed.

  Once the lightning was finished, the rains came. The light in Ruth’s hand changed to a bright blue, and the wind carried a promise of storm and rain. It was almost like a wash and rinse, Ruth thought in the back of her mind somewhere. Just before she collapsed into Pawlik’s arms.

  <<<>>>

  Ruth’s collapse was just for a short period of time. The effort to summon the energy and channel it into the transformation of the space field had been considerable, but Pawlik’s anchoring and the strange behavior of her hair had somehow mitigated the exhaustion she had thought she would have. When she could stand up and focus again, she saw that the landing field had been flattened and appeared to be compacted and almost coated with an unknown material. The edges of the crater had been terraced to allow more effective construction.

  The spaceport itself was huge. Easily twice the size of the main Arkken one. Areas for extensive warehousing and buildings had been created around the central field. Roadways and pathways had been created to connect the different areas, all in a more comprehensive pattern than they had planned. The Marines and staff that had witnessed Ruth’s spell were awed. The Marines stood taller, and their posture reflected their pride and confidence in their Mage. The other workers, depending on their attitude and level of knowledge of the difficulty of what Ruth had just done, alternated between fright and near worship. Ruth could handle the Marines’ attitude since their increase in confidence and pride was a sign of corps spirit that was essential to her plans. The response of the others bothered her at some subtle level, and she resolved to discuss it with Pawlik and Cal at a later time.

  Jenna and Margot approached Ruth accompanied by two other Marines and a man dressed in a workman’s clothing. Snagging Cal as they walked past him, the group walked up to Pawlik and Ruth determinedly.

  “Lady Mage,” began Margot, “we need to do something about protection for the spaceport. Normally there’s some sort of wall around it, and we thought that the crater would provide that. But looking at the size of the port and the number of roads that run through it, we don’t have a defensible position.”

  Jenna continued, “What can you create that will allow us to close the spaceport when necessary to general access and provide us with some form of checkpoint control to prevent dangerous or unwanted entry?”

  The unnamed workman cut in, “We also need security for warehousing and power grids. Is there anything you can do on the magical side that will make it easier for us to construct something that will carry power, deal with sewage, etc.?”

  Before anyone could say anything more, Cal put a protective hand on his mother’s forearm and said, “Just because she can do it quickly doesn’t mean that it’s easy. Get organized about the things for which you are asking. Just coming in here making demand after demand will not provide what we need, and it will possibly hurt her.” The unnamed man, who belatedly introduced himself as Damien, the head of the construction crews, apologized profusely to Cal. Turning toward Ruth, he begged her pardon which she granted to him with a forgiving smile.

  Pawlik nodded his agreement, tightening his grip on Ruth’s shoulders. She smiled at both her son and her consort before responding. “I am feeling fine so far, let’s see what we can do about the essentials and hold it to one more major spell for right now. Once I do that, we’ll see where I’m at, but we should really start to deploy the manual labor and the skilled craftsmen.”

  This was generally agreed upon, and a short list of high-priority items was created for Ruth. At Jenna’s insistence, a short list of optional things was also included.”

  While the list was being assembled, Ruth seated herself on a partially-shaded boulder and rested while talking to Troyer and Techla. They had not been frightened by the flashing of the lightning and the percussive thunder. Hunter had curled his body around them and watched calmly as the elements raged and crashed. The assurance that everything was all right seemed to have seeped into the blood and sinew of the two children, assuring them of their safety and presenting the spell execution as a wonder to be witnessed. Ruth was grateful that Hunter had taken upon himself the duty of supervising the children. It was one less thing for her to worry about, one more thing that she felt was safe. She scratched him between the eyes in thanks, receiving the responsive low hum of his purr in answer.

  Ruth had only a short respite before Jenna and Margot brought her the list. When they open their mouth to explain things to her, Ruth raised a hand and cut them off. She really didn’t want an explanation. Some part of her had reached out and encompassed the list in a chaotic mixture of images, which now spun through her head. Standing up, she took three steps forward so that she could squarely face the center of the spaceport. The mage felt her anchor close behind her. The warmth of his body penetrated her back and provided a comfort for her soul.

  “Are you ready, Pawlik?”

  “I am ready, my love.”

  The warmth that she felt from his comment, to be called someone’s love again, filtered the chaos and fear as once again a force rose from the ground through her legs into her central core and exploded out of her hands. The feeling being filled to overcapacity by a huge unimaginable force touched every part of her being.

  Without warning, every pin, every braid, every careful arrangement of her hair came undone. The deep red tresses begin to float in the air, seemingly ignoring gravity. Small lightnings flashed between strands of hair and up over her head. Her arms crackled with multicolored fire running down toward her wrists and filling her waiting hands. The list of items desired disappeared into a pile of ash. Uncaring, Ruth knew that the planned and needed items were already set into her bones and sinews, into her blood and her brain. Clouds overhead begin to whip around, and the temperature seemed to drop.

  While the children cuddled against the warm side of Hunter, Ruth was cradled in Pawlik’s embrace. His comforting hands, his supportive body at her back, kept her warm and safe.

  The wind accelerated, and the cloud cover grew thicker. The sense of waiting expectations increased, raising the hair on the arms and neck of the watchers. Something was about to happen.

  The tension of the breathless moment couldn’t last for long. It was too big, too pregnant with potentials. To those watching, it appeared that Ruth’s entire figure exploded into a ball of radiating light and coruscating sparks. Streamers of light, bolts of lightning reached from the Mage and slammed to the far corners of the crater, blanketing the ground everywhere except for where people were waiting. The slamming of the thunderbolts and the frightening magical fire seemed to continue forever. Later on, the observers were never able to really figure out how long it lasted. For some, it seemed a few seconds, for others minutes perhaps even an hour.

  Finally, the show of violent light was over. A swirl of air, a pattering a light rain and the fog and overwhelming smell of ozone started to lift. The spaceport that was revealed was transformed beyond recognition.

  The flat surfaces in the new roads and pathways are partially obscured by the creation of new buildings. Some of those buildings were obviously office buildings, some appeared to be residences and warehouses.

  There were well over 200 assorted buildings. Additionally, the entire spaceport was ringed by a peculiar set of walls. The walls were formed in concentric circles around the spaceport. The outermost barrier stood approximately 2 ½ stories high. It was seamlessly constructed as if it were carved from a single piece of unknown metal. Interrupted at intervals by gates, the wall had a strange shine to it and a luminosity the seemed to glow from within. It was like nothing the watchers had ever seen before. It was not, however, the tallest wall.

  The second wall was easily 15 feet higher than the outermost. This one contained evenly spaced watchtowers, designed to provide overlapping fire to against outside threat. The watchtowers themselves were made of the same unusual metallic -looking substance as the outside wall, but the windows that it cont
ained shimmered and displayed a chromatic effect that made it possible to see inside of them. Lethal-looking, emplacements were present on either side of every watchtower. The ports to those emplacements were shuttered and closed, but betrayed a hint of their deadly nature to any of the knowledgeable examiners.

  The third concentric wall was the innermost one. Its height was just shorter than the outside wall. The wall composition was radically different from the other two barriers, appearing to be constructed from some sort of stone. It was also seamless and contained a portcullis at each of the gate areas.

  The observers were left speechless. Damien opened and closed his mouth repeatedly, stunned with amazement, and unsure of what he had just seen. Feeling the many eyes on her, Ruth straightened her body in preparation for their reaction when a strong flash of foresight slammed into her, catching her breathless for the crushing weight of her vision. She saw the spaceport ringed in fire and explosions. She felt death in the air and the darkness of night, twin moons in the sky and the cool tang of the fall. She knew it was not now, but the terror and the pain in that vision caused her magic to respond to her emotion. So rapidly that no one had a chance to interfere, Ruth raised one hand and pointed it straight in the air and pointed the other at the center of the spaceport. She let out a cry of anger, rage, and grief that seemed to echo inside the walls and rise up into the clouds with the sound of the Archmage in full fury.

  “They Shall Not Win!” Once again, the universe seemed to pause for a split second. The two massive spells that had come before could not be compared to the power and passion behind this magical working. Unanchored for a second, Ruth drew on every fiber of her being, on every stubborn part of her psyche, and poured her love, her anger, and every emotion that railed inside of her into one, huge spell.

  The heavens splintered and flashing death walked the land.

  Laser beams of colored lights flashed from watchtower to watchtower. Buildings lit up as walls and windows went through some form of transformation. Every path and roadway seemed to be reforming, changing composition and structure. The very hills around the spaceport changed.