Foretold
Amber shrugged. Turning with her hands on her hips, she looked around and spotted a glove and ball nearby. Bending down, she scooped them up, putting the glove on her left hand. Then she tossed the ball to the Lekwuesti lieutenant, Hinto.
“Give me your best throw,” she instructed.
After a puzzled pause, he did as she instructed. Then she tossed the ball to Raphael, the next one in line. They repeated this until everyone had thrown the ball once. After that, she had each of the players run a sprint from home plate to first base. Skye and Olivia stood together in their team shirts and ball caps and talked in whispers, their eyes moving along the row of potential players. Although curiosity ate at him, Caleb stopped himself from tapping into Skye’s thoughts. It would be more fun to see her strategy unfold as she planned it.
“I pick Finnin,” Skye said when the time came to begin choosing teams.
The look of utter shock on the Scultresti second commander’s face was priceless. Caleb hid a grin behind a subtle cough.
“I pick Nour,” Olivia said, causing an equally surprised expression from the Wymzesti lieutenant.
The selection process continued until everyone had a team. Amber handed shirts and hats to each person as they walked to stand behind their coach. Caleb watched it all with unbridled fascination. He quickly realized that Olivia and Skye weren’t making their selections based off of athletic ability. The seemingly obvious choices among the Waresti, Gloresti and Corgloresti went toward the end rather than the beginning. It was a clear statement that the goal here was not just about winning. It was about bonding.
He also thought it was a brilliant strategic maneuver. The selection process was a formality. Amber had explained that Skye and Olivia still had to establish their starting lineups, so the order in which the players were selected at the outset made very little difference in the scheme of things.
But it bolstered feelings of pride among the classes and allowed those players who might have feelings of self-doubt to overcome them before the game began.
Once the teams were selected, they made their way to their dugouts; Skye to the first base side and Olivia to the third base side. Caleb and James joined Amber and Gabriel near the pitcher’s mound so that they could review the rules and their individual responsibilities. Glancing occasionally toward Skye’s dugout, Caleb realized she had gathered her team around her. They were apparently talking strategy. Looking over toward Olivia’s dugout, he realized she was doing the same thing.
Again, another smart decision…involving their players in the team’s approach to the game.
Soon, the game got underway. Ini-herit, having enjoyed watching baseball games on the human plane, stood by to assist players in learning how to properly stand in the batter’s box and grip the bat. Olivia placed herself next to first base since her team was batting first, so she could help guide them around the bases.
The first batter was Dawn, the Elphresti lieutenant. She had pulled her long, black braids through the back of her cap. The whites of her black eyes were barely visible beneath the shadows caused by the hat’s brim. Her long, lithe body was outfitted in her green team shirt and white capris with the special shoes called cleats. She listened to Ini-herit’s instructions and faced the pitcher’s mound from the left side of the plate.
Frantiska, the Corgloresti second commander, was pitching for Skye’s team. She poised herself to throw the first pitch. Caleb could have heard a pin drop in the coliseum.
Dawn swung and missed.
“Strike one,” Amber called out as the catcher, Meda, threw the ball back to Frantiska.
A few murmurs resulted. The audience’s interest was hugely apparent, but they didn’t seem to know how to react.
On the next pitch, Dawn swung again and made contact, but it flew foul.
“Strike two,” Amber called.
Dawn let a third pitch go wide of the plate for a ball. And then on the fourth pitch, she hit the ball into the dirt not far from home plate, about halfway between the catcher’s position and where Raphael stood playing third base. She ran like the wind and managed to beat out Raphael’s throw.
Olivia erupted into cheers, showing Dawn how to give a high five and yelling across the field to her team that they needed to cheer, too.
“In fact,” she added, “everyone behind my dugout is technically the visiting crowd. Come on—cheer us on!”
“But our side is going to be louder, right?” Skye asked, popping out from her dugout and looking into the stands. “Let’s hear it!”
She started clapping until everyone sitting behind her dugout joined in. Then she whistled and shouted until they were doing the same. Her smile could have lit the stadium. She gave them all two thumbs up before retreating back into her dugout so the game could continue.
It was a close game, though because the teams were fairly evenly matched, that wasn’t very surprising. In the bottom of the ninth, Skye’s team was down by a run. Caoilinn batted first and grounded out. Harold then got a double and Skye substituted the faster Lekwuesti second commander, Leilani, as a pinch runner. The Orculesti lieutenant, Jean-Marc was up next. He gripped the bat with a determined look on his face as he entered the batter’s box, staring at the pitcher, Alexius.
“Come on, Jean-Marc,” Skye called from her position in the first base coach’s box. “Base hit.”
The crowd soon overtook her with their own cheering. Alexius threw the first pitch. It was inside and Amber called it a ball. Jean-Marc swung at the second pitch and tipped it foul into the crowd. The next one he fouled off again, causing Skye and James to both hurry out of the way as it zipped just over their heads.
“Strike two,” Amber called.
The next pitch crossed the plate in such a perfect spot that Caleb wondered why Jean-Marc didn’t knock it into the stands. Instead, he watched it pass by.
“Strike three,” Amber called.
“What?” Jean-Marc said, turning with an incredulous expression. “It was outside!”
“It was right over the plate,” she argued, standing with her arms crossed and her legs braced apart.
Caleb thought the Orculesti might argue further, but instead he stalked toward the dugout and tossed his bat to the ground in obvious frustration. He was far from the first player to do so that game. It was rather remarkable how passionate each of the players and even the audience members had gotten about the game so quickly. They were into it.
Commander Balduin was up next. He was a lefty, something Caleb didn’t think he had ever noticed before. He dug into the batter’s box and held the bat with a comfortable stance. Although he hadn’t been in the starting rotation, he’d been up once and had gotten a base hit.
He swung at the first pitch and missed.
“Strike one,” Amber called as the crowd behind Olivia’s dugout cheered raucously.
The second pitch was a ball, low and outside. On the third pitch, he watched it and seemed to know immediately he should have swung.
“Strike two,” Amber called.
Nodding, he took a few practice swings and then stepped back into the box. Alexius wound up and tossed the pitch.
Balduin’s bat connected with the ball with a loud crack. They all watched the ball sail into right center field. Ailfrid and Christopher converged under the ball in the outfield as the crowd on both sides went wild with noise. And then the two outfielders stopped running and watched the ball enter the seats.
Balduin was halfway around first and heading to second when he realized he had just hit a homerun. He raised both hands and let out a whoop as the crowd erupted. Caleb grinned when he saw the wide smile on his commander’s normally impassive face. Skye was jumping up and down and encouraging her team to get up from the dugout to crowd home plate. They all gave Leilani high fives when she touched the plate. And when Balduin made it home, they all crowded him in a huge mass of high fives, back pats and hugs.
The noise was tremendous. Caleb knew he had never witnessed anything nearly as fu
n or exciting in his entire existence.
After the game, the teams lined up and crossed the stadium to give each other fives, another sportsmanlike tradition of the game conveyed to them by the sisters. Skye and Olivia gave each other hugs and laughed as they shared commentary about the game. Amber walked up to her sisters and gave each of them fist bumps.
He noticed something else as the surrounding Estilorians went to work to convert the coliseum back to its original state so dinner could be served. He noticed that the crowd was now decidedly mixed. It wasn’t just the Lekwuesti who worked to clean things up, but members of all classes. He noticed that the Wymzesti and Orculesti didn’t get ostracized by other classes who feared they would have their minds read or their actions predicted. He noticed Waresti conversing with more animation and feeling than he had ever seen, and Gloresti and Corgloresti interacting in a friendly way much different than formal pairings. And the Scultresti and Elphresti mingled with everyone in a much more social manner than either class normally did.
And they all collected around the sisters like planets around the sun.
Well, I’d say that was a resounding success, Gabriel communicated as he and James walked up and joined him.
I’ll say, James seconded. Look at this. Just…wow.
They handled it perfectly, Caleb thought as they started making their way through the crowd toward their wives. Now we just have to transfer this lesson onto the field of battle.
Chapter Forty-One
“It has been several days since we last heard from the traitor,” Kanika said. “How do we know that the battle will still commence?”
Although she sounded irritable, Grolkinei smiled. He had grown to appreciate her displays of temper. “Do not be concerned, my sweet. Our insider warned us of this lull. It will not be possible to get the information we need—information that can only be gained by being in the close proximity of the elders and Saraqael’s daughters—if the traitor is risking open communication with us.”
She made a sound in the back of her throat and turned to look out the window. The two of them were standing in one of the high turrets built into the side of the mountain. Its roof looked like a jagged mountain peak from the outside. She wore a black velvet cloak to ward off the chill in the air, but he noted that her arms were crossed over her chest beneath the cloak. Her ebony hair was pulled back at the temples into two separate braids secured at the back of her head. The wind lifted the mass of it from her shoulders.
Moving forward, he placed his hands on her shoulders. She tensed, then relaxed. “Why are you so concerned?” he asked.
“I feel as though there are things being done at the Estilorian base that will put the winning of this battle beyond your reach,” she said.
He frowned as he began to massage her shoulders. “Why is that?”
She shrugged beneath his hands. “I cannot explain it. It is a feeling of foreboding. Something that started when Quincy reminded me of the Great Foretelling.”
“Rubbish,” he said dismissively. “The so-called Foretelling did not take into account our ability to strategize, did it? I have spent centuries building an army the size and strength of which the other Estilorians will never dream. My powers have continued to grow, and I am surrounded by talented commanders. We even have a number of soldiers with exceptional talents that will most certainly turn the tide of this battle.”
Now, she turned. He thought her eyes had all the more impact due to the marks of power she had on the outer edges of her eyes. She had informed him shortly after converting that the marks were evidence of her mental abilities being as exceptional as they were. “You have great confidence. Has our failure to acquire any of Saraqael’s daughters not shaken your belief in our abilities?”
“We were learning. In order to develop effective strategy, there must always be attempted maneuvers, even if they result in failure. We know far more about them than they know about us now.”
She studied him silently for a long moment. Then she said, “I hope your arrogance is not going to lead us all to our deaths.”
“Arrogant?” he asked, brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes. “I thought I was confident.”
“Your excessive pride in your own abilities—”
“Is well-founded,” he interrupted. “You will not anger me today, Kanika. I have been working on the most effective way to defeat the elders for most of my existence. I have accounted for battling against eight of the most powerful beings in the world, and I have plans in place to defeat them. Why should I fear three young, half-human girls?”
“Because they have defeated us separately. What makes you think that together, they will not annihilate us?”
He pushed away from her. “Your doubt displeases me. Our previous encounters with them were mere skirmishes. They faced not even a fraction of us.”
“They faced the fraction that you consider the most powerful,” she pointed out. “And three of those commanders are now dead.” She followed him with her eyes as he paced. “You do not appreciate my doubt, Grolkinei, but it is well-founded. We have looked like blundering idiots.”
He wasn’t sure why he allowed her insolence. Where comments like hers from anyone else would have sent him into a flying rage, he merely glared at her. Perhaps it was because there was a part of him, however deeply buried, that knew she had a point.
“Your soldiers fight for you because they fear or respect you,” she continued, turning from him to look back out the window. “They do not necessarily share your passion to abolish this plane of existence. Due to their short length of time on this plane, in fact, very few of them even understand what the human plane is, or how being on that plane will benefit them.”
“They know they will be worshipped like gods,” he snapped. “They will no longer be outcasts among their own kind, living in the shadows of others.”
“Again, it sounds like we are discussing you, not everyone else.”
He stopped pacing and stalked over to her. She didn’t retreat. He stood an inch from her, his hands clenched into fists. “You go too far.”
“You do not like to hear what I have to say because it is no less than the truth. Your goal is to defeat the rest of the Estilorians. Eight other classes against our one.”
“Our one class is comprised of members of each of the other classes,” he ground out. “Most of them, much like you, brought their former base class attributes with them when they converted and have merely grown in power since then. And our numbers are greater than theirs.”
“So you believe.”
“I trust our information. We have it verified from a number of sources, including our recent inside informant.”
“What makes you so certain the human plane is worth reclaiming?”
He sneered. “Humans will forever be beneath us. They will worship us. And even if we opt to never return to the human plane, we will still rule this one.” Seeing her quirked eyebrow, he said, “Surely you do not relish the thought of remaining an outcast for the rest of your existence, do you?”
She frowned.
“This is your chance to rule by my side,” he said smoothly. “What is it you would command if you were put in that position? You could watch Gabriel and his half-human avowed tortured and killed. Or you could keep them alive and in service to you for all of their existences. The options are many and varied.”
“You may dangle such lures in front of the others with success,” she said, distain lacing the words, “but you will have to forgive me if I am still lacking faith in our class’s ability to defeat an entire army seeking to defend Saraqael’s daughters, especially in light of our past mistakes.”
He clenched his jaw, then released it. “And what will it take to convince you, Kanika?”
She lifted her chin. “Perhaps if you actually succeeded in capturing Saraqael’s daughters instead of merely talking about it. That would at least be a notable accomplishment.”
When he smiled, it was quite terrifying. “C
onsider it done.”
The softball game had gone a long way toward breaking down the lines between the classes. In fact, it was such a successful and popular team-building exercise that they made it part of the day’s training. Whichever members of each class were determined to have made the most progress during the course of the day ended up on the softball roster that evening. The motivation this provided for everyone to try their best was rather staggering.
Caleb stood supervising a group of young Estilorians engaged in a round of hand-to-hand fighting. Their attitudes were all encouraging and supportive rather than arrogant and competitive, a quite miraculous change from just days ago.
“No, Edgar. You batted lefty yesterday, but you are trying to dominate with your right,” said Edgar’s Scultresti opponent. “You will have more success if you lead with your left.”
Raising an eyebrow, Caleb said, “She’s right. Here.” He moved forward to demonstrate.
His siblings, the elders, the commanders and the lieutenants were all nearby in similar training sessions. Skye was on the other side of the courtyard near the targets, teaching techniques with throwing weapons. It was rather difficult being separated from her, even if only by a courtyard, knowing that there was at least one traitor somewhere in their midst. But if ever a time existed where such calculated risks were necessary, this was it. Besides, Olivia was near her in an archery session, and Gabriel was close to them where he stood training Estilorians with daggers, sais and other close-fighting weapons. James was on the west side of the courtyard training a group with staff weapons, and Amber was heading sword training on the east side.
Caleb knew that outside of the courtyard, training was taking place in other areas of the homeland, and not just physical training. There were exercises being taught for mental protection—and attack—as well. The groups rotated every thirty minutes with ten minute breaks every hour. They trained from sunup to sundown and then gathered every evening in the coliseum for the ballgame.
More often than not, he ended up carrying Skye back to their bedroom every night because she was too tired to make the trip. He knew her fatigue was more a result of her early stage of pregnancy than her physical exertion, and actually enjoyed doing what he could for her. He had learned through Gabriel more about what she would go through as the babies grew. It boggled his mind. He had never seen a newborn child except in his dreams, but the fact that two of them would fit in her belly—her womb—well, it was a complete mystery to him.