How cheerful, Kelvin thought, but he knew the aging veterans had no choice. It was like that Earth saying his father was always repeating in arguments with his father-in-law: "Those who live by the sword, die by the sword."
"Thank you, Commander," Helbah said, pushing back from the table. "Your help is accepted. Come, Kelvin, we've got business with the orcs."
"But—" Kelvin started, then shut his face. Helbah knew better than he, prophecy or not. Helbah, after all, had lived to see many wars over the centuries.
Outside he leaned over and waited while his passengers climbed on his back. It had been a good deal more fun when his niece Kathy Jon did it. He made certain Helbah had a good hold, then took his long, long step.
Brudalous was at the rebuilt land palace once destroyed by human brats. That had been a long, long time ago, and Merlain and kings Kildom and Kildee had been helped into incredible mischief by Zady. The children had actually gotten away with the magic opal Zady had coveted, but the subsequent war had had a beneficial outcome. Today the orcs governed themselves through the Confederation under the Alliance. The Alliance itself had its figurehead ruler accepted by orcs and humans alike: Horace, keeper of the opal.
Kelvin stepped onto the sand where his two human children had once been, and Helbah let go of his shoulders and slid off from his back. Brudalous, a fish-faced giant to them, was watching his grandchildren, or taddlings, at play in the surf.
"Helbah, Kelvin, I got your message," the fish-face boomed. The skin, if anything, seemed scalier and greener than Kelvin remembered. No protocol for orcs—they got down to business.
"Brudalous, you're prepared to fight for the Alliance?" Helbah demanded.
"Of course. We have no choice. We're part of the Alliance."
"You have trained warriors and equipment?"
"We're always prepared, Helbah. Orcs have their traditions to keep."
"Your magicians?"
"Krassnose, our resident wizard, and Phenoblee, my dear wife, are now reviewing spells."
"You do know who Zady is, don't you? She's more than just a witch."
"We know. Once she tried to use us to destroy the Confederation."
"Have you heard that she now has powers greater than mine? Perhaps greater than Krassnose's and Phenoblee's and mine combined?"
Brudalous waited, his face as impassive as always.
"Then there will be no pulling back? No leaving the Alliance?"
Brudalous showed his daggerlike teeth. "Orcs do not surrender easily. Perhaps this time we will die, but if we die we die as orcs."
"That's all I wish to know, Brudalous. There have been rumors and I wanted to check on them myself. Inform Krassnose and Phenoblee that I will have some witch and wizard allies as before and that this time they will work with orcs against a common foe. Come, Kelvin!"
"But—"
"The old palace ruins. You can wait there for my return. If Horace was available to us I'd take him instead of the transporter."
"The dragon," Brudalous intervened, "still has the opal?"
"Yes, but he's newly mated in dragon territory and on his sunnymoon. I don't want to interrupt until it's necessary. You know how dragons are. Bend down, Kelvin; you expect me to jump on your back?"
Kelvin leaned forward and Helbah almost, it seemed, did jump on his back. Once she was properly seated with Katbah digging his claws in, he straightened and stepped.
The old palace ruins—the very rocks and masonry that his father had brought down years ago with his Earth weapon—never seemed to change. Weeds and other vegetation didn't grow high here, possibly because of the hordes of tourists. Today being a workday, there were no tourists here. He waited while Helbah changed herself into an ungainly swoosh and Katbah into a batbird. The transformed cat attached itself with tiny wing-claws to the transformed witch's slick feathers. Helbah took off and he watched her fly across the ruins and, he knew, down the ancient stairs, along the river, and then underwater to the air-filled dome with its transporter.
Good luck, Helbah! he thought after her, and wished that he, like his offspring, could project it to her.
Helbah wasted no time but flew straight to the hotel, where she joined Wizard Whitestone and Zudini the master illusionist at a secluded table. They had been waiting for her—impatiently, she gathered.
Whitestone said, "Well, Helbah, she's starting again, right?"
"Just as you told me, Whitestone. She grew a new body somewhere in dragon territory."
"Reminds me," Zudini began, "of my greatest offstage escape. I was set upon by malignants, dismembered, and my parts suspended in a bag inside the rim of an active volcano. Well, my brain still functioned, so opening my mouth I—"
"Not now, Zudini," Whitestone cautioned. "Save it for those memoirs I know you are writing. We've got business. Helbah's frame is facing peril of another sort."
"Actually it's the same sort, just as you predicted. She's going to stage a war so as to kill and damage as many humans and orcs as possible. Then she's going to get Kelvin and his relatives and me and everyone who helped us and—"
"Now, now, Helbah, we're not going to allow that to happen. Some of us have been planning ever since the convention."
"Yes," Zudini added, "even if you hadn't our sympathy for what you endured at her hands we'd still want to get Zady. She never can pay for the insult she did to our convention."
"And me," Helbah added.
"That," Zudini said, "goes without saying. You were the guest of honor. Zady interrupted your speech."
"Actually she did quite a bit worse," Whitestone reminded. "The insult to Helbah and the convention was great. But great as the insult was, she did still worse."
"Yes," Zudini agreed, "she tried to steal the opal."
"More than that. She tried to destroy Helbah's home frame. The damaging of a frameworld until it is malignant-dominated cannot be tolerated."
"Agreed." Zudini's head bobbed. "Oh, I quite agree."
"Then you can get help?" Helbah asked. "You can get some of the conventioneers who were with me before? It's going to be harder this time. I know she'll have practitioners of malignant magic with her. She'll attack the Alliance, but no one can say where. Precognition doesn't work for anybody these days."
"Yes, yes, that's a bad sign," Zudini agreed. "But if bad comes to worse, escape is still possible. Even if your frame is taken over by her, you and your favorite humans may come here."
"I don't want to escape with my favorite humans! I want to lick Zady proper! I want her out of my existence and all existences! I want her to burn and make a complete ash of herself! I want the Roundear of Prophecy to stand up and be a hero, and—"
Zudini and Whitestone exchanged pitying glances. They would be remembering the hero who had been tricked by Zady all through the convention. Kelvin had in effect entrusted his children to her, though he hadn't known she had switched identities with his sister. Such mistakes were not treated forgivingly by those with more than a smattering of the art.
"What we've done," Whitestone interrupted in his turn, "is contact all former convention members who were there. More than half have agreed to work to punish Zady for the humiliation they suffered. And there are newcomers who have earned their pointed hats who have volunteered. Zudini's daughter, Zally, and her husband, Frederich, will come. Then there's very young warlock Ebbernog who has developed a latent ability along with his quick mastery of the art. Ebbernog was frightened by Zady as a child. He was innocently bouncing his ball in the children's suite when this other child appeared—one of the four who were missing. He told the attendant, bounced his ball again, and struck Zady, who was wearing an invisibility cloak."
Yes, Helbah thought, and it must have been Ebbernog's latent ability that had made the ball move with unusual speed. Merlain's thought to him to throw the ball there had evidently triggered his ability. Telepaths like Merlain and Charles were rare, but those gifted with the ability to think-move objects were almost as rare. A warlock with
psychokinesis ability would be an asset of great worth.
"Yes, I remember Merlain telling me of Ebbernog's experience." She did not say that Merlain had described him as a "dumb little fat kid." Even today Merlain was often weak in empathy, as when she condemned her father for being a dragon-killer way back in his youth. Her father, of course, had had no choice; nor had Ebbernog.
"Wizard Whitestone, Warlock Zudini, I appreciate what you've done, but now I have to be getting back."
"But my dear lady," Whitestone urged, "surely you can have a cup of brew with us first?"
"No, I have to be leaving. War may begin at any moment. She may choose to attack anywhere, and I haven't troops and protective spells in Aratex and Hermandy. There's no time to spare."
"But Helbah," Whitestone persisted, "we're coming with you. The others I mentioned will soon follow."
"Come on, then," Helbah ordered. "It's back to the transporter station and then home to the twin palaces."
Not bothering to stand up, she changed into a swoosh in the chair and changed Katbah into a batbird clutching her feathers. She hopped out of the chair, beat her wings, and flew past startled waiters and waitresses, including one waitress with very spectacular cleavage she dimly recognized. She flew through the hotel lobby and out the door, which the doorman just managed to open for them in time. Out in the street they flew high above the floating platforms, past the shops and the police station and into the familiar terminal. Straight to the nearest empty booth she flew, pecked the proper coordinates on the controls, and transported, not even bothering to change.
The nanosecond of time that seemed to the traveler a longer time was no different for a bird than for a person. Cometing stars, twisting sensation in the stomach, an explosion of lights. Then she and Katbah were back in the dome. Not wasting time, she dived out the airlock, swimming for the surface with strong swoosh wingbeats. She exploded from the water, circled just a moment in the air, and was joined by two ruffled swooshes bursting from the water. Together, side by side, they flew to the ancient dock, then elevated their bird selves above moldering stairs and the broken masonry and statues and junk of a onetime glorious palace. Now it was out to where the ruins ended, wings beating steadily, to where a plume of dust floated above a departing horse and rider.
Kelvin was waiting here. He looked up at them, a little bit startled by their sudden appearance. He stood his ground while they landed and changed into their human forms, his expression a bit less confident than befitted a hero.
"Helbah, Whitestone, Zudini—I remember you from the convention! Something's happened! Something terrible. I've just received word. Hermandy and Aratex are under attack! Zady attacked first and then declared war. The war has started!"
CHAPTER 15
Return Engagement
It was hot on the battlefield. A different location than before, but almost the same situation as the last time Zady had made war. The one big difference was that rather than a war between orcs and humans it was a war of malignants against benigns, with humans and orcs expendable by both sides. Another difference was that both sides were better equipped—especially Zady's.
Kelvin stood feeling like a fool with the equipment Mouvar had somehow given him throughout the years. He had on two belts: his sword belt and the belt holding his antimagic weapon. On his hands were the gauntlets, and on his feet the boots—his last gift from Mouvar—that made the levitation belt unnecessary. In his hands, but firmly in contact with the ground, was the chimaera's copper sting. He looked to Helbah, who was staring out over the ground like a seasoned strategist; on her shoulder, sharing her staring, was Katbah, her familiar, also known as the creature called a cat.
"Not yet, Kelvin. I'll tell you when."
"I wish Horace was here," he complained. Actually if Horace had been present he would have feared for him. Dragons were not among the most vulnerable of creatures, but they were as susceptible as humans to magic attack. Even with all the will he could muster Kelvin doubted Helbah could counter the spells Zady would throw at Horace.
The human army in the dung-colored uniforms emblazoned with blood-red tridents began their advance. Zady had somehow obtained both uniforms and men, probably through magic. There might be dead people reanimated in that line, Kelvin thought with a shudder, or even look-alikes from other frames. How would he feel if he met his own brother—or someone who appeared to be his brother—out there sword to sword? He knew he would not feel good, and as never before he hated that there were wars and that he, very much against his desire, was a hero of bloody conflicts.
General John Knight, Kelvin's father, was conferring with General Sean Reilly, known in more normal times as St. Helens, father-in-law to the Roundear. Neither man had worn a uniform for well over twenty years. Now, looking at them from the relative safety of this ridge, Kelvin thought them both the very picture of professional soldiers. Both men were clad, as was he, in the grass-green uniforms bearing Helbah's sun-and-moon symbol. His father, and undoubtedly St. Helens as well, would be wishing they had lasers and jetpaks instead of swords and horses. Alas, the lasers and jetpaks had long vanished, and would never have held their power over the years. Kelvin wondered about science that was limited and magic that lasted until the power was ended by a spell. Of course Mouvar's gifts to him were of science origin, but then magic and science at some point merged. Mouvar's weapons would not have lost their power, he hoped, and according to popular theory they never would.
Now the two generals for the Alliance were riding in different directions, each to his own troops. In the meantime the enemy was creeping forward. In the advance were men with swords, followed by men with bows and spears. Behind the light artillery were the wheeled catapults, already cocked and loaded and ready to move up. At the rear were witches and warlocks and major officers. At any moment hostilities would begin.
The dung army's advance halted. The troops divided neatly and the catapults rolled forward. Men chopped ropes with their swords and great rock missiles rose high into the air.
Helbah and her magic-wielders acted as their green-clad troops charged out to meet the foe. The missiles became fireballs and exploded, showering the troops of both sides with white-hot pieces of rock. Some of the men fell; others staggered and ran with flames on their backs. Kelvin wondered if he shouldn't have used the chimaera's sting; the benigns' tactics had hardly stopped the missiles, though they had kept them from exploding over the ridge.
Now the witch's fire started in earnest—glowing balls of flame from Zady's side that had to be countered and stopped by Helbah's. Some of the fire got through, burning men and horses, striking and injuring and even destroying defenders. Return witch's fire went out, scoring some hits but mostly being stopped by the defenses of the intended targets. Kelvin looked to Helbah, and finally she nodded.
Placing his hands on the chimaera's sting, he concentrated, and the great electric bolt shot out, drawn from the ground, and scored a hit among witches. They were running with tattered, smoking clothes, putting each other out as best they could, while fireballs continued. Kelvin tried another bolt, this time directed farther to the rear, hoping to strike Zady. He wished again that his weak eyes were stronger. He had only a vague notion of where she might be.
His bright blue bolt stopped before reaching its target and curled upward. A superior magic was stopping the natural force of nature. Kelvin swallowed, remembering that Zoanna had not been able to defend against the bolts. Yet Helbah had warned him that Zady would be watching for the sting to be used and would have developed a method of countering. As his bolts curled back on themselves he belatedly saw that there were large coppery shields floating where he had intended to strike. Of great size, the disks resembled saucers.
Kelvin tried a bolt closer to their ridge. He blasted a catapult and sent the survivors scurrying into green-clad soldiers. He tried another, and a copper disk was there, just above the catapult he'd tried to get. His bolt sizzled harmlessly on the shield, curled up slightly, a
nd was gone.
Kelvin tried some unmagical swear words that his father-in-law had taught him. It didn't help, though surely there had to be some practical reason why soldiers on Earth learned such words. If damning could really damn, he saw no signs of it. The shields were defending against the bolts at least as effectively as the invisible barriers were defending against the sizzling balls of witch's fire.
In the meantime the fighting was getting furious. Men were being killed out there, and Kelvin didn't like it. It wasn't just that warfare seemed to be a brutally inefficient way to settle differences, or that the bloodshed sickened him. Helbah had warned him to stay out of the hand-to-hand combat at least until Horace arrived. But Horace was somewhere in dragon territory and otherwise occupied. The worst of it was that Helbah had declared him needed here. Without her command he might have employed the belt or the boots to take him and Glint into dragon territory. But dragons being dragons, could even Glint convince Horace to leave Ember and come here?
"Desist with the sting," Helbah ordered, and he did desist, realizing that his efforts were now wasted. He needed his strength, he was sure, and using the sting continuously was, as he had found out before, as tiring as doing battle with a sword.
"Helbah, I'm going out there!"
"No! You mustn't. You'd be her natural target. Zady would use everything she has to capture you. Remember how she pulled you through the air?"
Kelvin remembered all too well. She had pulled him out of a battle with the orc leader while he was wearing his levitation belt.