Tarek yawned as he rode the ice-cold wind up to Night Patrol bunker, a little warren carved out of the living stone of the sheer Eastern cliffwall. The little dugout cave was just a pinprick of torchlight midway up, now and then blacked out by a passing figure invisible in the darkness.
He arrived on the hanging porch of the small cavern complex without challenge, flipping his damaged skyboard expertly into his hand without looking at either it or the ground. Behind him the view of a drop of three hundred feet to the northvalley floor was cloaked in cobalt darkness, torchlight flickering on the face of the cave.
"Hey, Tarek," Sand greeted him sleepily, the sweet smell of the Plant he was smoking on the breeze. "Pulling another double shift?"
"Patrol nine again," Tarek sighed, walking through the entrance, down three stone steps to the inner cave. Here several small tunnels branched off left and right to the individual communal rooms. Before he got to one of them, an extremely short wide little man swaggered out. He had a squint and a pointy nose, and needly teeth that had grown in far too small. "Hey, Tarek! I could hear you coming for half a mile on that screechy 'board of yours! When are you going to trash that thing and get a real one? I swear it's gunna blow up under you one day."
"Evening, Ratt," he grinned, giving the short man the palm of his hand.
Ratt slapped it. "You with us tonight, man?"
"What's left of me."
"That's plenty. I heard you had a good time, ran off to Floodtown. See any laze tessas? How was the Festival?"
A huge hulking brute squeezed himself out of the night patrol tunnels, his overhanging brow lifting a little with delight to see Tarek. "Hey, man, when are you gonna switch jobs? You're here more often than you're down there."
"Hi, Dave," Tarek punched him in the shoulder. He'd served so many terms of punishment with Night Patrol Nine that Dave and Ratt had become two of his best friends. "Where we going tonight?"
"You're lucky. We have a special mission. Skylord's present on Skylord's night. Some kid thought he saw Eagles setting up weird monitoring equipment on the Southwestern boarder. We're gunna sneak down there, gather intel."
"You? Sneak?" He couldn't help snickering.
"Come on, we're Night Patrol! We're the ghosts of darkness, the stealthy of the stealthy, invisible bats of doom!" Ratt made a sliding gesture with one hand flattened like a swooping bird.
"Hey, maybe we shouldn't tonight, Ratt," Dave's bass voice rumbled. He was still sleepy, rubbing the crust out of his puffy eyes. "Tarek's with us. He always picks a fight, and we're not supposed to be seen."
"Hey, I can sneak," Tarek swore.
"Never seen it," Dave replied drolly.
"I can sneak!" He insisted with ire.
"Sure. Well, get your crappy 'board together, and grab a biscuit and coffee if you want it. We're gone in five." Ratt wandered back into Bunker Nine to finish putting on his boots.
Remembering his stomach, Tarek headed for the old rickety table that the Night Patrol guys always had set up in the kitchen with food on it.
The Jelka Night Patrol were a strange fraternity, some of the largest and oddest members of the barbarian hoard they called a pack, 'boarders who never saw the light of day. There were only about sixty men who lived in the cave, broken into ten small units. According to legend they could hold off an enemy attack alone until backup could arrive, and had several times. They lived separate from the others and had nothing to prove. They, alone of the entire Jelka mob, were quiet and peaceable in their curious way. Tarek preferred their company to any other in his small and unhappy nation.
The young sun-bleached man sat down on the top of a solid stone half-height wall inside the cavern kitchen to cram two biscuits into his mouth. He pulled out an old dull butterfly knife, flipping it around his fingers without a glance. The metal caught and flashed the colors of the torchlight that illuminated the sunken stone hallway. The wind that moved from outside through the small windows pulled at his ragged flyaway hair, the edges of a long black leather coat with ancient faded patches sewn on, so scarred and abrased that parts of it had been worn gray.
Tarek was never seen without the coat. On the upper left hand breast was a Top 'Board patch faded by the sun, ruined by a hard life, but still recognizable. Anyone who tried to take the jacket away from Tarek because the rank did not belong to him would feel the heat of the aluminum bat he wore in a sheath on his back. No one in the Jelka had ever accomplished the feat.
"Plant?" The heavyset man on lookout offered.
"Thanks, Sand." Tarek took it, and inhaled several long pulls on the bluish dried leaf before handing it back, appreciating its smooth melon flavor. "Good stuff. I didn't know the lame-masters made it all the way out to Floodtown."
"You ain't the only one who's been to the Line today." Sand grinned, all of his upper teeth made of steel which gleamed like silver.
They came out grumbling, ten men in a slouching group walking closely together in a way that spoke of how seldom they were ever apart. All of them carried folded camouflage netting, some were wrapped in it like a blanket.
"C'mon day-walker, get your crap 'board in the air and keep it quiet, this is a scouting mission!" Ratt, the shortest of the bunch and the leader, tossed Tarek some netting and climbed onto his thick miniature Charlieboard without grace, lifting off into the cold dark sky.
They flew low over the ground away from Jelka base, glowering and sleepy, yawning brutes gulping down the last of their breakfast and sipping coffee from thermoses. The three planets above reflected in the dry grasses below them as if it was water; cobalt-blue Myduna with its crossed rings, small gray Visser, and Jervis the reddish Lady of War (which his rella had been named after) painting the plains vaguely blue-violet. Along with the thick field of stars above the scattered clouds they needed no aid to their vision. They watched their little black shadows flit across the rough and broken ground in triplicate, shivering ghosts of darkness.
'Down,' Ratt ordered with a hand gesture. The small patrol broke up and spread out, slowing as they lowered to within a few feet of the ground, pulling camouflage around them. Tarek nursed his broken skyboard, grimacing as it rained sparks when he stepped wrong on the mangled speedgrid. Dave scowled at him, shaking his head.
Ahead in the distance they could see James' Arch, a lone finger of stone standing tall against the early night sky. Beneath it on its strange little mesa was the black granite tomb of James Tep Jelka, the founder of the pack that bore his name and the Valley's last true military genius.
The odd formation stood almost exactly in the middle of the northvalley plains and had served for almost a century as the dividing line between the territories of the Eagles and the Jelka, marking the southwestern-most corner of the Jelka's domain. The monument was unquestionably Jelka territory however; the whole pack would fight to the last man to keep possession of the grand General's remains.
Under the arch, they could see the tiny glints of torches or lamps just for a moment. The patrollers swept forward quickly but without a sound except for the low throaty humming of their large armored skyboards. Then as they came close to the base of the butte itself Ratt gave the signal and they dismounted, hefting their heavy 'boards to their backs and running the final distance to the shadow of the rocks. There they crouched, allowing Ratt and a few of the others to climb quietly up toward the summit of the mesa for a good look.
Tarek followed without being told, though Dave gave him a frown and a jerk of the thumb to stay down.
Voices hushed behind the sound of the breeze through the high arch and the chorus of cicadas and crickets that sang for miles to the planets above. Low men's voices, speaking confidently without fear of being overheard. There were only about eight, all of them wearing the distinctive dark gray robes of the Sodren priesthood, the time-honored emissaries of the Skylord and His Valya. One of them, the lookout evidentially, stood boldly on the very top of James' arch with his robes flying in the night wind.
"
Some lookout," Tarek heard a patroller whisper. "He didn't see anything!"
"He's too busy staring at the sky."
Jelka were, by nature, atheists though the ancient faith had begun to reemerge in the pack recently due to an influx of Sodren missionaries. From the glance that Tarek and Ratt got of the meeting, it looked like several of those missionaries were oddly enough speaking with their priestly brethren in yellow and blue; priests serving the Eagles, the Jelka's sworn enemy.
They could see two of the men's faces distinctly by the light of small oldage hand-lamps the priests carried; a lean tall man with a face like stone, silvery ash-brown hair flying long and wispy in the breeze. He looked as if he hadn't smiled in his life. He was speaking to a handsome golden-haired muscled giant even taller than he was with an Eagles sash. From the dry smiles and momentary short, humorless laughter, the Jelka spies could tell that these two were on extremely friendly terms. Their faces were similar enough that they could have been brothers.
"What the von?" Tarek breathed, crouched at Ratt's right hand. He scowled at the meeting, feeling his blood heat at the treachery that pricked the air. "Priests owe loyalty to the pack they serve! These two shouldn't be?"
'Hold,' Ratt signed, listening. They could just catch the priest's words.
"?allowed him to fly the nest at last, we never thought Grandfather would let him out," the silvery, cold-eyed priest smiled faintly, the barest hint of emotion. He glanced up at the lookout. They were obviously talking about him.
Ratt looked up at the man standing on top of the arch through a pair of very small pocket binoculars. The lookout's face was obscured by the shadow of his hood but for a frustrated scowl on the small thin-lipped mouth. He was staring at the sky. His hair was very long, and looked to be dark crimson in the fire light, trailing down his shoulders and flying unheeded across his face with the wind.
"How is he doing, seeing the sky? Has he pissed down his leg yet?" the large handsome one scoffed.
"Almost. You should have seen the expression on his face when he got his first look at the food."
"Wait until he discovers the toilet room!"
"You mean the pit," the lean silvery one smirked.
"Well it's a good thing, Endler, you can use backup. I think Nixon will do well on the surface, as soon as he grows used to the fact that he doesn't have a ceiling above him anymore." The gold Eagles man crossed his huge arms. "How is your greedy little pet coming along? Has he finally been seduced into helping us?"
"He's our man. He's agreed to all of Grandfather's demands."
"He'll give us full reign?"
"Anything we want to do."
"Is he going to meet Grandfather?"
"Very soon. Perhaps the fourth."
"Excellent, the sooner the better. This business has dragged on long enough, I'd love to be done with all the sneaking around. To be honest, I think the whole thing is unnecessary. With the steps that Grandfather has taken, why do we even need this distraction? I think it shows our hand to the above-grounders."
"At this point it doesn't matter," the silvery one he'd called Endler murmured with a smile. "It will give the above-grounders something to fear, something to chase. Especially the enemy. I believe Grandfather is just doing it to give the Overlord a bone to gnaw on."
"How about your men in the South??" but before he could go on, Jelka and priests both heard the whine of approaching skyboards. It was too late to act, they were coming in at maximum speed.
Planetlight glinted against beetle black armor as seven skyboarders dropped out of the stars, completely encircling the tomb, the nearest one hardly two body-lengths from Tarek's hiding place.
Tarek saw it all in a moment's flash. They were identical, each man wearing armor unlike anything Tarek had ever seen. It fit close against their bodies, made of silent night-black plates layered one atop another, which allowed them to move as if they wore nothing but leathers.
Beneath their feet were smooth skyboards without tail flux, speedgrid, or even straps to secure their riders to their decks, cold and featureless as black granite.
Strangest of all were the helmets, which covered every face in an unbroken shield without visor or eye hole, as if the men within had - or needed - no eyes.
It took Tarek a mere heartbeat to realize what he was seeing as the armored men pointed thick, snub-nosed rifles toward the priests and fired. Nets leapt from the blunt barrels, spreading into sheets of black mesh which fell over the priests from all sides.
Immediately the outermost priests were engulfed, but the two central figures were fast, leaping onto their 'boards and rocketing into the sky so quickly that Tarek momentarily lost sight of them.
Three of the armored men flew skyward after the priests who had slipped their snares, while the rest collapsed inward around their cursing, trapped companions. Behind him, Tarek heard shouts from the Jelka patrol as they also realized who, or rather what, they were seeing.
"It's the Night Valya!"
"Dead spirits of the Emperor's murdered Guard!"
"Don't let them touch you or you'll die!"
Most of the patrol took to flight in terror like frightened ravens, dodging the cold black shapes of the airborne Valya and speeding toward Jelka base with trailing screams.
Rat began cursing with his most colorful epithets, jumping to his feet and shouting for the remaining Jelka to rally to him. "Von blasted cowards!" Dave rumbled angrily from Tarek's other side. "Night Patrol ain't afraid of nothin'!"
But Tarek's attention was completely fixed on the priests captured in the Valya's black nets, for in that moment they proved themselves to be as unearthly as their opponents.
The largest of them stood without struggling. He simply smiled at the Valya, his previously normal eyes flickering into glowing green orbs bright enough to cast shadows. A moment later two foot blades shot forth from the flesh of his forearms, and with a flurry of movement, the nets fell away sliced into pieces. Beside him, another priest lifted his arm to aim his naked palm toward a Valya; an instant later there was a crack of gunfire from his hand and a bullet slammed into the Valya's armored forehead, knocking him off his 'board to fall into the grass.
"Demons!"
A gaggle of fervent prayers erupted from a group of remaining Jelka patrollers, as they hastily dug feathers out of their pockets to throw toward the unnatural - and obviously unlucky - priests, in an attempt to ward away their evil.
Tarek had his hand halfway to his own pocket of prayer feathers when he was jerked out of his amazement by Rat grabbing his shoulder, and shouting near his ear, "Those are Jelka traitors the Sky-damned Valya are stealing!"
Tarek glance followed Rat's pointing finger to the edge of the skirmish where a Valya was escaping into the night, one of the priests netted like a human cocoon beneath his 'board. His startled brain snapped back into gear and he cursed, jumping onto his own skyboard and pressing hard against the sparking speed grid to give chase.
Rat was right; no matter what else these priests were, they were first and foremost traitors to the pack he had sworn to serve. They betrayed Jelka trust and so they had to face Jelka justice, and Tarek would be damned if he would let some legendary spirit-men steal them away.
Imagine trying to explain that to the pack Drakes.
Keeping his eye on the captured priest, Tarek sucked in his breath as he held himself rigid against the violent rise of his skyboard on full power, the night wind howling around his ears and flattening his hair over his face as he lifted toward the sky. Immediately the chill of the air burned on his nose and ears.
Around him he could feel and hear the lightning-fast duels being fought between priests and Valya, sweeping closer to him with every heartbeat.
From his left and below, another Valya shadowing the one with the captive saw Tarek closing in and banked sharply to intercept. He - or rather it - was fast, a mere flicker of a silhouette against the dim plains and then all at once it was right in f
ront of Tarek, snapping its 'board toward his head.
He blocked, kicking his feet up over his head, 'board and all, feeling it shudder as it connected solidly with the Valya's strike.
"So much for the rumors that you janglers are spirits!" he growled, tucking his knees to his chest and rolling backward into a fall until his 'board was once again beneath him.
Immediately the Valya was in front of him again, giving him no time to think. The armored creature was eerily silent as it attacked, raining down a dozen hammer-hard blows in an attempt to separate Tarek's feet from his 'board.
"Slammin' drek fek shanty Trex queenie!" Tarek cursed with frustration, right before the wind shifted just enough to make the Valya pause and compensate.
It was all the opening Tarek needed to stop defending and go on the offensive. He stomped hard on his busted speed grid, hitting his attacker's front bottomplate with the nose of his skyboard. The abrupt buck of his malfunctioning 'board was sudden enough to send the Valya cartwheeling into the darkness.
Tarek grinned with exhilaration as he jerked his favorite weapon, an oldage aluminum bat, out of its sheath and swung it by the chain connected to its pommel. He saw the Valya like a hole in the night ahead of him, recovering as it swept upward to meet him.
Belting out a Jelka war cry, he swung the bat high above his head, but before he could bring it crashing down, the Valya leapt and kicked Tarek square in the chest with a massive metal-clad boot.
The impact was unholy. It was as if an invisible magic force generated by the boot pushed outward from the kick, throwing Tarek bodily back into the endless span of air, bat and all.
All of the air was slammed out of his lungs, leaving him empty and aching as he fell. He barely managed to keep the toe of his boot hooked into his half-frayed nose strap, tumbling upside-down before he could grab the edges of his 'board with both hands and jam his boot into the speedgrid. Electricity surged through his leg, biting angrily at his nerves as the 'board's power source grounded itself in his flesh.
Slowly, air began to trickle into his lungs again with a long, pained gasp.
Throwing his body backward he rotated around his 'board and shot upward again, ignoring the hard rocky plains below. He didn't care how close he came to pancake. For Tarek, when he was in the sky, there was no ground.
Rapid gunfire exploded into the night from somewhere near the Tomb, as cornered Priests attempted to knock the Valya out of the sky with a rain of bullets.
Two impacted off of Tarek's opponent's armor with hot yellow sparks, sending the Valya reeling and diving for the ground to avoid leaving himself silhouetted against the heavenly planets above.
Tarek let him flee, rocketing past in the direction the captured priest had gone.
More shots fired into the darkness, and the sky seemed to swarm with duels and chaos; Valya, Priests, and Jelka patrollers all caught up together in a whirlwind of confusion and combat. Bodies and 'boards crashed together, yells and shouts and pleas mixing with the snap of gunpowder and cracking of thin, brittle 'boardplastic splintering under harsh blows.
Then he saw it; the bulky outline of the netted priest under the 'board of a Valya, who was in the process of fighting off two other priests a quarter mile to the south. Instantly Tarek gave pursuit, riding his screaming skyboard hard, leaning all of his weight on the protesting speedgrid in an attempt to reach the struggle a few seconds faster.
The Valya spun and produced a telescoping bow staff, somehow knocking both of his assailants off their 'boards with a single graceful twirl. And then Tarek was there, falling out of the sky like a screaming meteor to meet the Valya's upraised staff with his bat.
He struck hard, letting his bat's chain wrap around the staff as he spun himself and his 'board like a top. His own momentum ripped the staff out of his opponent's hands. Then he was past, looping around and swerving back to face the disarmed Valya with a feral grin.
The Valya turned to look at Tarek, taking in his dying 'board, manic grin, and spinning bat.
"Come on, jangler," Tarek taunted, beaconing the armored man closer, circling him. "Let's shammy."
The Valya shook its head slightly, crouching into better fighting posture on its board a heartbeat before a priest tackled him from above. It was the silvery haired priest, the one called Endler, and he was flying like a man possessed by the wind. He was at least as good as Tarek.
He spun his 'board around himself as if he could fly, defying gravity as it snapped out to catch the falling Valya over and over again in the chest, leg, side, head, and finally a low sweep across the ankles which knocked the dazed Valya off his 'board.
Tarek was there a moment later, catching Endler across the back with his bat and sending the priest right after the Valya into free-fall.
"Ha! My traitor!" Tarek crowed, reaching for the Valya's hovering 'board. But it, and its prisoner, were gone.
A moment later he caught sight of the skyboard a few dozen feet below him, once again under the boots of its Valya, and once again being assaulted by a recovered Endler.
"Slam it," Tarek dove, joining Endler in a violently competitive chase after the fleeing Valya.
Another Valya collided into Tarek and the silvery-haired Endler like a lightning strike from heaven, slamming them sideways with a smooth double-blow of his bottomplate. Then he danced away from counterattack, every liquid movement screaming with talent so raw he had to be a blazecube.
The chaos instantly intensified as the blazecube Valya, Tarek, and Endler all engaged in a bloody melee. Tarek lashed out with the bat. It bounced off of the Valya's armor, affecting nothing.
Endler screamed a sound that was not human and clenched both fists, releasing two three-foot blades from the back of his wrists, jagged and evil looking.
The unnatural priest slashed at the Valya, and Tarek jerked himself back, unsure for a moment who to bash? or if he really wanted to touch either of these things. No human could grow blades from their flesh, light their eyes with fire, or make sounds like that! Though there were tales of demons from the underworld which could.
"Valya and von-men," he gasped, voice drowned out by the thunder of the wind as he flew. "By the Skylord, it's a battle between good and evil and I'm right in the middle of it?"
With a blur of blades and sparks, both Valya and priest swept past Tarek at impossible speeds, a wild kaleidoscope of adrenaline and passion overlaid on the backdrop of the three luminous skyward planets. When the priest saw that every blow his blades landed bounced off of the Valya's armor without effect, the two broke apart and eyed one another malevolently.
The priest clenched his fists again, and the arm-blades lit up with an electric-blue glow and hummed with a terrible sound.
"Holy Skylord!" Tarek yelped, quickly distancing himself from the fight with a brand new surge of adrenaline. Dark magic on top of it all! The night could not possibly get any more surreal.
But the facts were still the facts; Jelka priests sharing secrets with Eagles priests, betrayal of Old Man Noswego and all of the Jelka. Whether or not they were human, the most important thing was to take down the priests, then he could fight the meddling Night Valya over who got to drag them home as captives.
The Jelka rejoined the fight, slamming his bat into Endler's leg to knock the priest off balance. At the same moment, the Valya rammed the nose of his 'board into the back of his knees. One of Endler's blue-glowing blades accidentally caught the edge of the Valya's 'board as he flipped backwards, slicing the 'boardplastic as easily as butter.
Tarek growled, swerving under the Valya to chase Endler. He dodged quickly to keep up with the priest's frantic movements, get under him, then reached up and grabbed the sides of the man's 'board, spilling it sideways with all of his weight and strength.
The next thing he knew he was also upside down and falling, a cursing Endler tangled up with his sparking 'board, both of them struggling to get their own 'board out of the other's grip.
The fight
didn't last more than a few seconds, before Endler's glowing blades darted out toward Tarek's face and sent the Jelka into a fast retreat.
"You crazy son of a bitch!" the Priest snarled as he recovered.
Tarek was feeling bruised, battered, and absolutely alive. These were two of the best opponents he'd ever fought in his life. There was blood in his mouth, and his 'board was shrieking as though it was about to overheat and explode. It was glorious.
Tarek saw the flash of black against the violet light of the planets, and saw another Valya - a Valya toting a familiar netted prisoner - swooping away from the shadows of the rocks and heading south at full speed. Reminded of his original purpose, Tarek abandoned the fight and streaked southward after his target. Beneath his feet his 'board was screaming with an increasingly unhealthy sound, radiating heat through the deck and into his feet. He was fairly sure he could only get another couple of minutes of combat out of it before it overloaded and surged like a funeral 'board straight up into the deadly Canopy.
Hopefully, a few moments would be enough.
His battle with the Valya leader and Endler had drifted south-west far enough that he was able to intercept the Valya's double-loaded board, although there was nothing stealthy about his approach. As soon as their paths converged, Tarek threw out his arms and tackled the Valya, ignoring the whimpering priest in his net.
The Valya defended his prize by pulling out a second small rod that suddenly telescoped into a full-sized fighting staff, using it to leverage his Jelka attacker off and separate them into a tight, close duel.
Tarek's bat and the titanium staff connected in angry staccato, the Jelka patroller snarling and cursing with every single hit incoherently until it culminated with, "?gunna face trial before the Packleader for treason, and you can't steal him and make him disappear back to Valya-Ken! I know that's why you came, you flew down from the Blue World and you're going right back up there but I won't let him get off the hook that easily! If you take him Up There, he won't stand trial!"
Tarek swooped, flying around the Valya like an angry hornet until he saw his opening. He swung his bat before thought came, connecting solidly with the side of the Valya's neck in a less protected spot where it looked like armor plates gave way to dark gray leather.
The Valya fell, stunned by the blow, and Tarek snatched the blubbering netted priest away from the eerily self-sentient skyboard, cutting the net's ties with a slash of his knife.
The living 'board hesitated, facing Tarek for a moment as if the skyboard itself would attack him, then dove for its falling owner to save him. It moved fast, as agile as a bird as it swooped beneath its falling master and carried him away at full speeds into the darkness.
All at once, like shadows vanishing into the darkness, the fight was over.
Tarek looked around, panting and ready to pummel anything that moved, to see only a few riled-up Night Patrollers staring around them with the same confused expressions. Both the Night Valya, and the unnatural blade-wielding priests, were gone as if they had never existed. There was no sign of them, except the chilling silence of the cicadas as every creature cowered in fear.
No evidence, that is, except for the quivering bundle slung over the front of Tarek's wheezing 'board, a single treasonous Jelka priest.
Several of the Night Patrollers cursed, made holy signs, and two dug additional feathers out of their jackets to throw into the sky as they prayed. They'd never fought with angels and demons before.