The Rifts of Psyche by Kyle West (popular e readers txt) 📗

believe him about the wyverns, but the captain couldn’t go back on his disparaging remarks. Perhaps the Elders had even told him about the Orb this morning.

But Lucian knew he couldn’t let pride get in the way. Using the Orb was like lighting a beacon, one that would attract the attention of the Sorceress-Queen. But surely, she couldn’t detect it if he opted to use only a little magic?

“Aye, one more round,” Fergus said. “Now, we will see if you were lying about those wyverns.”

They both faced off again. By this point, no one was making a pretense of gathering or watching the rift. All eyes were on the captain and the recruit. Lucian hadn’t made a good showing, but he could show them all with his best Aspect powered by the Orb. It was a chance to undo all his losses and prove himself.

Captain Fergus and Lucian just watched as a cool wind blew through the rift. When this had gone on about half a minute, Lucian wondered whether Fergus was waiting for him to make the first move this time. He seemed more guarded this round. That took great discipline, to not underestimate an opponent he had already defeated five times handily.

When Lucian reached for his Focus, a woman screamed. Shortly after that, one of the watchman was shouting.

“Slavers! Slavers in the Rift!”

Lucian followed his line of sight to see a contingent of men emerging from a cave at the bottom of the rift, just a few hundred meters down the trail.

12

Fergus took command instantly.

“Retreat! Everyone back to Kiro, now!”

Somehow, his voice boomed far louder than it should have, perhaps enhanced by some magic Lucian didn’t understand. Whatever the case, the Kiro villagers got the message instantly, taking their gathering bags and running up the trail in a coordinated maneuver that had clearly been rehearsed. Meanwhile, all the watchmen converged on Fergus, who now stood on the trail to guard the villagers’ retreat.

Lucian went to stand in line with them, with Cleon on his left and Fergus at the vanguard. He felt for his ether, finding that there was only a small reserve left. Having it out with Fergus had been the height of stupidity, but there was no way to come back from that now.

He would probably have to use the Orb, especially considering as many as fifty bronze-clad soldiers were marching out of that cave, their armor and spears glinting in the sun. At their head was a violet-caped man with a purple plume at the top of his bronze helmet, carrying a silvery shockspear that was already streaming electricity. Even from distance, Lucian could tell the man was huge. The others looked like children marching behind him. Directly behind the Mage-Lord, there were several more men demonstrating magical ability, too – about six or so Mage-Knights to match the three that Kiro had, each of them wearing colored robes over their armor – one green, two red, two blue, and one gray.

“Fafnir, Ewan,” Fergus said. “Get up the trail, make sure the villagers make it home safe. There’s too many of the Queen’s hoplites and Mage-Knights for us to deal with.”

The two men nodded and did as commanded. Now, it was just Fergus, Cleon, and Lucian left to guard the trail. The heavily bronze-armored, spear-bearing hoplites were advancing fast, though as of yet, the Mage-Knights hadn’t streamed any magic.

“How are your wards, Off-Worlder?” Fergus asked.

“Nonexistent.”

“Never mind that. You use that rotting Orb you have or we’re not getting out of this alive.”

Cleon’s eyes popped at that, but he said nothing more.

“What do you want me to do, Captain?”

“Wait for now. Cleon, ward Thermal. I’ll ward Dynamism. Lucian, stand between us. Make the ward have a radius of five meters or so, Cleon.”

“That would right drain me, Captain. Might not have much left for active streams.”

“Do it,” Fergus said. “All we need to do is bide our time. If they advance, we can take care of the forerunners the old-fashioned way. Wyvern-Slayer will be our offense. Overdraw if you need it, Lucian. This is about survival, now.”

“They’re nearly in range for Thermal,” Cleon said. “Brace yourselves!”

At that moment, several fireballs streamed from the hands of the enemy mages. Lucian reached for the Binding Aspect, and holding it, could see the tethers that were drawing those fires forward. Opening himself to the Orb, he felt an infusion of fresh, unpolluted ether, and used it to reverse the direction of each of those tethers. He felt resistance at that – great resistance – but he simply streamed more magic, until the tethers did what he wanted, reversing the anchor and focal points. The fireballs paused in their paths and reversed direction altogether, flying back toward the enemy, exploding upon impact.

“Rotting hell!” Cleon said. “How’d you do that?”

“Get that ward up, Cleon!” Fergus said.

“Aye, sir. Something tells me these are not slavers.”

Lucian got the same feeling. His skin prickled as an aura of magic surrounded the three of them for a moment, then faded. And just in time for a fresh fireball to crash right into them before Lucian could think to reverse it. The ward diffused the fire’s energy, sizzling against the invisible barrier.

“Retreat!” Fergus said, pointing his spear outward. “Keep the wards up!”

More fireballs flew as the non-mage soldiers charged up the slope.

Cleon shouted in frustration. “As soon we turn our backs to them, they’ll overwhelm the wards!”

“Do something, Off-Worlder!” Fergus said.

Lucian was trying. Even if he had the power to do it, he didn’t have the mental fortitude to reverse every fireball being thrown at them.

“We need to get some cover,” he said. “Long enough for me to try to bury the trail.”

“That might cut off our farms!” Cleon said.

“We’ll worry about that later,” Fergus said. “Up to that boulder. And Lucian, you better stream fast!”

They charged up the slope, and for the first time, every single fireball streamed their way connected with Cleon’s ward. Lucian felt the heat of them on his back,