Chapter 22
The Stand
Woroghs! His duplicates had spotted Woroghs, and not just any Woroghs!
These creatures—best described as human-sized goblins—came from a region bordering Shamballah and its fiefs. Their society was divided into many tribes and clans with the strong individuals ruling the weak—or rather, the less strong—and the powerful tribes bullying the less powerful ones. The downright weak didn't live very long in Worogh territory, even if they were Woroghs themselves. They had slaves working their crop-fields, tending their cattle, and working necessary crafts they regarded as being beneath them. The only honourable craft in the eyes of the Woroghs was that of a weaponsmith, and Wolfe had seen some quality weapons in his skirmishes with the Woroghs during his brief travel through part of their territory while hunting Yamato, who must have noticed the same thing, since his trail had soon taken Wolfe out of their territory.
The Woroghs lived for war and raiding, often raiding settlements outside their territory but fairly frequently attacking other Worogh tribes as well, if those tribes appeared to be weak. That infighting kept their population in check and spared the surrounding regions from even more Worogh-induced grief. However, there was one tribe of Woroghs so powerful that the other tribes dared not attack it. They were the Yoogs, and they occasionally adopted promising warriors from other tribes. The people Wolfe had talked to about the Woroghs had no idea how long that had been going on, but his encounter with an advanced scouting party of these Yoogs had revealed that their selective breeding had gone on long enough for them to grow bigger, meaner, and smarter than their mundane cousins. And he had also learned that when the Yoog warriors decided to leave their fortified settlement, all of them did, though not necessarily marching together to whatever unfortunate victims they had selected, but all arriving at the same destination. That meant that five hundred or so elite Woroghs had dribbled into Shamballah somehow.
Wolfe had known that they had left their native territory and headed towards Astirian a few weeks ago, but the absence of spies within the Woroghs' ranks made tracking their movement more difficult. Now five hundred lethal warriors were roaming about in the tower's lower levels. They weren't dangerous to him, but he didn't know whether he'd be able to find all of them all before someone got hurt. Looking around, he saw that there were a lot of people to evacuate.
Unceremoniously shoving aside some Shamballah socialites who had given his garb a disdainful once over, he made his way to Nicolai and Mary.
"Mr Wolfe?" Mary exclaimed in surprise.
Wolfe acknowledge her with a nod before turning to Nicolai. "Sorry to be the bearer of bad news. Do you know the elite Woroghs calling themselves Yooghs?"
"They're in the tower?" Nicolai's question almost sounded as a statement.
"Yes."
"Where?"
"My duplicates have seen some in the lower levels, where the government and civil service offices are. Some might have slipped by them and may already be higher."
Nicolai nodded, and turned to his stricken-looking wife. "We had better evacuate then. Tell your father to gather our families and head up to our private level, quickly!" Then he closed his eyes and brushed a seal-ring around his left little-finger, concentrating deeply.
Wolfe managed to glimpse Nicolai's rapid thoughts and saw the reason why Nicolai wanted Matt's family and his own to be well on their way up there before he called for a general evacuation. He didn't trust many of the guests—even the local ones—to put the royal family's safety before their own. He also saw the true nature of the seal ring, and knew that Nicolai was calling forth the magical defences he had engineered for the tower. It would certainly buy them some more time, but Wolfe knew that fifty modified black training golems wouldn't stop five hundred highly trained Woroghs.
The group Wolfe had dispatched had been far too easy to track into Shamballah, and he suddenly realised that it was a setup of some sort. The enemy wanted him here, though he couldn't begin to wonder why. Were they planning a massive counterattack on the resistance fighters in Astirian? He took a moment to concentrate and contacted the duplicates he had left behind with the resistance, telling them to be extra watchful and to give the local commanders instructions on what to do. Those commanders weren't quite as experienced as Wolfe would have liked, but he had spread himself very thinly and he knew there was a chance that he wouldn't be able maintain all of the duplicates if he needed to draw on extra power.
Suddenly Wolfe got a vision from one of his duplicates. Small squads of Woroghs flitted into the room through various entrances "A fairly large group of Yoogs have gathered in a hexagonal room with all sorts of statues. Where is this room?"
"Ten floors down. It makes sense for them to gather there, since the secondary stairs and lifts they must have been using all end there. They have to go through that area if they want to keep climbing."
"Is there any way to prevent them from ascending?"
Nicolai shook his head. "Only the uppermost two hundred feet can be sealed off completely. It's the palace proper."
"Then I'd better go head them off."
"I can command fifty golems. Should I send them down to help you?"
"You'd better not. Keep them here in case some Woroghs decide to come in from the top."
"They won't come in that way if stealth is their primary concern. Aerial traffic is forbidden to ascend beyond thirty-three hundred feet, but— "
"If they realise that they've been detected, stealth will no longer be on their list of priorities," Wolfe interrupted.
"I know that, cousin. As I was saying before you interrupted me, you needn't worry about that, because as we speak umbranium hatches are covering any aperture large enough for viable entry by anything larger than fairies. And the holes large enough to allow fairies through are defended by potent magic. The builders of this place were very powerful."
The knowledge that his family was safe allowed Wolfe to relax a little. "All right, but I still want you to keep the golems as a safety net. Have them deal with any Yoogs that manage to slip by me."
"If it would give you peace of mind."
"It would. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to head them off," Wolfe said, and transformed into a phoenix before using the animal's ability for instant translocation that took him straight to the room his duplicated was in. He reappeared under the archway that marked the border between the statue chamber and the chamber beyond, where the stairs and magical lifts were located. He returned to human form and stepped off the slightly raised threshold and into the chamber, before slamming the doors shut with burst of wand-less magic. Since the doors had to be pulled open from his side, he also wandlessly summoned a quartet of heavy statues and barricaded the door with them. Each weighed several tonnes, and since the Woroghs weren't able to use magic like wizards did, they would have to put their collective backs into removing the statues. That made the possibility of any Woroghs slipping by while Wolfe was busy extremely unlikely
He stepped back onto the threshold and began to walk along the threshold's edge with the deliberate and measured steps of a tiger out for a stroll. Relaxed but alert. A predator's gait.
"What are you doing?" one of the Woroghs snarled in Etti.
"I thought it was obvious. I'm standing in your way," Wolfe replied, not breaking stride. Disbelieving snorts from several of the Woroghs compelled him to reveal some additional information. "Allow me to introduce myself. Some of your kind have called me the Butcher of Astirian." He reached the edge of the threshold and doubled back in the same deliberate pace. "A bit of a premature title, if you ask me. It is the victors who write the history scrolls, but the duchess and her minions won't win. When everything is said and done, I'm sure that story will be told from the perspective of the slaves who got away that day."
Their expressions changed from anger to uncertainty, but knowing who their adversary was didn't shake their confidence as much as Wolfe would have liked. "Stand aside! The whole Yoog tribe is here. You cannot hope to stop us!"
Wolfe raised an eyebrow and drew his sword. Its warmth pulsed up through his arm in a reassuring manner as bright flames sprung up around its edges. He knew it wasn't going to be easy. All the Woroghs had magical staff-like weapons that were made of spun umbranium wires and could become flexible like a whip in the blink of an eye. That trait made them hard to deal with, since they could coil around a weapon and yank it out of an opponent's hand. Their tops were broad, flat, oval-shaped, and razor-sharp for slashing and thrusting, and the lower tip narrowed to a spike for easy impalement of someone sneaking up behind its wielder. Wolfe would have liked to practice with one, but the metal filaments that made up the spear's shaft cut anyone who wasn't a Yoog. It was magically attuned to anyone initiated into the tribe, and not even 'lesser' Woroghs could touch it.
He summoned the magic within himself and allowed it to fill every cell in his body. The faces of his adversaries reflected some of the deep orange glow of his roaring aura. Chunks of marble tore free from the floor and levitated upwards under the influence of his power. "This threshold"—he gestured to beneath him with a sweeping arm—"is off limits. Bring on your hundreds, one at a time or all in one rush. I don't care. None shall pass!"
Then, as the front-most Woroghs prepared to charge, Wolfe simultaneously banished ten enormous statues from one side of the chamber to the other, sweeping dozens of Woroghs with them and crushing them against the walls. He then moved the statues in front of the five smaller door-less entrances in pairs, making it difficult but not impossible for someone to squeeze through. He wished he could animate the statues, but that was too complex and energy-consuming without a wand.
He raised his left hand and beckoned the Woroghs up front to come and fight him. There were still a little over a hundred of them in there, and Wolfe steeled himself for a test unlike any he had ever faced.
Three of the largest Woroghs—large even by Yoog standards—came on, stamping and howling with rage. They were so intent on Wolfe that he chose to take advantage of the moment and send a sharp, Quaffle-sized chunk of marble at the head of the middle Worogh. It sped across towards the startled Worogh and struck him in the face, crushing bone and sinking halfway into his face, killing him.
Fortunately this unexpected development distracted his two companions as well, and Wolfe sprinted towards them with magically enhanced speed. The first one tried and failed to parry Wolfe's slash in time, and his headless body remained upright for a few seconds, spurting a few geyser-like jets of blood from a scorched but not quite cauterised wound as the heart pumped a few more times before stopping. The second one tried to mimic Wolfe's decapitation of his fallen comrade. Wolfe blocked his blow enough to deflect its trajectory, not wanting the put the Worogh in a position to command the spear into its slacked, whip-like state and use it to rip the flaming Phoenix Katana from his grasp. He pivoted on his left foot, scything his right leg through the Worogh's legs, dumping the creature hard onto the marble floor. Then he smashed his left fist into his adversary's face with inhuman strength, crushing it like a grape and sending blood spattering and pieces of brain sliding along the marble floor, before leaping up and hustling back to the threshold.
He had barely turned to face the group of Woroghs again as the next trio of Woroghs launched their attack. They had learned from the mistake of their predecessors and were keeping an eye out for flying debris. Wolfe waited for them to get closer before sending chunks of marble at each of them, which they contemptuously batted aside with their staffs. However, half a heart-beat after banishing the rocks towards his foes, Wolfe himself was off the ground in a salto that reverse-twisted directly over their heads, and he slashed his sword at precisely the right time to open the back of two necks and sending more dark blood spurting into the air. Had they not been busy slapping the rocks aside, it would have been easy for them to impale him.
The two victims didn't immediately collapse, and their startled jerks served to aid Wolfe by spraying blood into the face of the unhurt Worogh, upon which finishing him off with a thrust through the heart became easy. The others didn't wait for Wolfe to return to his position on the threshold, though, and the dead Worogh was still on his blade when they charged, so Wolfe spun around and kicked the dead Worogh's body towards the fresh trio. It knocked one of them over, but he was replaced by a new one peeling from the ranks of the waiting. Wolfe danced to the left, putting both warriors diagonally in front of him with the intention of having the left on engage him first. It didn't work. The left Worogh waited for the others to catch up, and soon four Woroghs were drawing closer in a disciplined phalanx. It did put them in an excellent position to be flattened by a tall statue of an emperor of bygone times, which had been Wolfe's backup plan all along. After killing four birds with a single statue, he returned to the threshold with a leap.
With about thirty Woroghs having been crushed with statues in the initial attack and four of them being flattened in the latest manoeuvre, the Woroghs realised that the statues made excellent weapons of opportunity. After a barked order by a higher-ranked Worogh, ten warriors formed a perimeter against Wolfe while the rest began to cluster around the statues that were still standing, obviously intending the bring them down. The narrow threshold could only accommodate as many as five warriors and still leave them enough room to fight, so Wolfe knew that they wouldn't attack him just yet.
He sent a mental query to the Phoenix Katana, asking if its fireballs could cause the statues to explode like fragmentation grenades, and it replied affirmatively. Hoping that the sentries wouldn't attack until the damaged was done, he concentrated and channelled his power through the sword, hurling roaring fireballs and the statues and destroying them, sending superheated rock shooting through the chamber and tearing through more Woroghs with each explosion. Ironically the sentries made effective shields for any debris flying Wolfe's way, so he only had to dodge occasionally while casting fireballs at the statue. Soon all the Woroghs lay on the floor, dead or dying among the cooling pieces of rock, but the attack had taken a great amount of power.
He steadied his breath and listened. He heard some murmuring coming from beyond the crude barricades he had erected. The Woroghs were calling for means to quickly remove the statues, since they were smart enough to realise that they were all too easy pickings if they wormed their way between the statues blocking their entryways. Some of the whispers caught by his sensitive hearing revealed that the Woroghs were planning to storm in simultaneously through every entrance once the obstacles were removed.
The plan was to overwhelm him, so Wolfe set things up to make it a little more difficult for them. He began summoning statue-debris and dead bodies towards the threshold and created two man-high mounds to each side in front of the threshold narrowing it down enough to allow only two Woroghs room to fight adequately, or three Woroghs if they refrained from using sweeping, side-to-side attacks. He was done just in time, for as he levitated the last body into place, the statues blocking the entryways blew. He steeled himself for the final assault. He had to hold the line even if it cost him his life.
"None shall pass!" he screamed as the first Woroghs emerged through the acrid smoke caused by the explosion.
"We can't let him fight alone!" Matt whispered heatedly, even though he was well out of earshot of potential eavesdroppers. After everyone had safely been ushered into the palace proper, Matt separated the Rangers from the other evacuees and took them to a higher floor. "I'm not suggesting a direct confrontation, but we can still do a lot of damage. Since magic is so rare in the Mirror Realm, I'm willing to bet they've never met wand-wielders in combat. We can do this!" He glanced at the ten Combat Rangers who had volunteered to provide low profile security and settled his gaze on the younger ones. "Hiro, Veranus, Kumsa, you've never met Wolfe, so if you want to pass I'll understand. It isn't like you can be ordered into this, because technically we're not here on official Order of Illumination business."
Hiro Ui narrowed his slanted eyes. Hermione knew the Japanese wizard well, since he tended to go all out during training and frequently injured himself enough to require attention. Harry had once told her that if it had been up to him he wouldn't have let Hiro into the Order, since he appeared far too enamoured with the idea of going out in a blaze of glory. "I have heard the stories about him, and I know that he hunts Yamato Tetsuo. Yamato is a stain on Japan's honour, and that is enough reason for me to help."
"Official business or not, I am a Ranger. I am morally obligated to stop evil," Veranus Akwenje added.
"I have not been around long enough to serve with him, but I have seen him in action when Yamato's army invaded Nomad Island and attempted to storm Concordia. I'll help," Kumsa Yalew said, then added with a bit of wry humour, "though I am not sure he'll need it."
"He had a wand when he created the cyclone that swept up the enemy. He doesn't have a working wand now," Matt pointed out, now speaking in his normal voice. "Yeah, he might be able to take them all by himself, but I don't want to risk it."
"Neither do I," Nicolai's voice echoed across the room. "I'm coming with you."
Hermione had been wondering where he'd wandered off to after taking a moment to reassure the guests. He was clad completely in a full-plate metallic blue and silver suit of armour with the golden emblem of a strange dragon on the breastplate. Surprisingly enough the armour didn't clank as Nicolai walked. The only sound coming from him was the swish of the midnight blue cape that was fastened to the pauldrons. The helmet reminded Hermione of Roman styles, though it completely encircled his head and overlapped the gorget like later medieval knights' helmets did. As Nicolai approached, it opened up to reveal his face, seemingly splitting at the chin and turning upwards along the hinges. The rear part of the helm protecting the wearer's back and neck stayed down..
"You're not going anywhere," Matt erupted angrily. "It's too dangerous. I don't want my daughter widowed, and you're too valuable to be at the front lines."
"That might be the case, but I have very good reasons to participate. First of all, Max is my cousin and he's been fighting to depose a very evil regime, partly on my behalf. That leads me to my second point, namely, that I can't afford to stay behind while you and the others fight. Pacifists Shamballah's people may be, but it would still be bad for my image, and it would definitely send the wrong message to the enemy. I don't want them thinking I'm an immature boy-king who is afraid to risk his own neck. Thirdly"—Nicolai nodded towards Sahid Khan—"he's been drilling me in both duelling and armed combat. He can verify my competence, if that's what you're worried about."
Khan nodded. "I needed to show the kid everything only once for him to repeat it flawlessly. His ability to learn isn't limited to books."
Matt seemed to deflate. "Fine, but you're not going down there dressed like that. Prancing around in your royal armour will make you the centre of some very unwelcome attention."
"It isn't my armour, but that of the emperor's personal guard. It's incredibly old and has very powerful enchantments on it. It'll protect the wearers from spells as well as more mundane damage, and—"
"It'll still attract attention," Ironheart interjected.
"Not if the rest of you wear them too. There's three dozen suits of armour for three dozen guards, and they'll resize to a new wearer. All you have to do is receive a brand on left shoulder from a magical branding iron. Technically there's the whole selection process for the emperor's personal guardsmen, but everyone who has managed to pass the Order of Illumination's selection process pretty much qualifies. If you're evil, the branding will kill you."
"So we need to get a brand before we can don these things?" Khan asked.
"Yes, but if you're concerned about a lifelong commitment, don't be. It fades after three years, because once every three years the guardsmen have to pass a number of tests to see if they were still worthy and competent."
"That's a relief, because I wasn't ready to sign up for a life-long commitment," Chayton Blackmoon said.
"Is there any armour for women?" Bihn Nguyen asked. A veteran Vietnamese Ranger and one of the few females in the Martial Division, she clearly wasn't about to let the boys have all the fun.
"When I said that the suits resized to fit new wearers, I meant women as well. The emperors of old believed that women made equally competent guards."
Ironheart clapped his hands. "What are we waiting for, then?"
Nicolai shook his head. "I need you to stay up here, grandpa. You and Jasmine have to ferret out the invaders' contact. We both know that Lord Cartagia's definitely conspiring with the Duchess of Astirian, but I don't know if he's the only one. If you think Charlie Junior is up to it, ask for his help as well."
Ironheart was clearly disappointed, but it was obvious to everyone, himself included, that his grandson was right. His talents were needed elsewhere.
"Commander Ironheart?" Ginny's voice called out, and moments later she emerged from behind a warm red curtain obscuring the doorway.
"Commander no longer, my dear," Ironheart replied.
"Sorry, force of habit," Ginny said with a sheepish grin. "Aria wants to have a chat with you."
Ironheart turned to the assembled Combat Rangers. "My wife and mother-in-law apparently request my presence, and The Godmother doesn't like to wait, so I wish you good hunting."
"You were going to fight and leave me out of it?" Ginny burst out after Ironheart had left, her face reddening with anger.
"Ginny, we're combat Rangers. This is our niche," Matt protested.
"And you think I won't be able to hold my own? I'm stronger than I look, and I can fly."
"Holly's influence in Ginny could indeed unnerve our opposition and give us an advantage, Matt. The Draconians of old factor into the folktales of most Mirror Realm beings," Nicolai said.
"Yeah, but will she be able to fly while wearing armour?"
"I believe she would. These suits of armour were created when Nalhati blood was thicker and Draconians were more powerful, and still winged. I think the cape will have to be removed, but other than that, the armour will not impede Ginny's mobility."
"We should all leave off the cloaks," said Ghalid Osman, who was a Martial Division lieutenant. "We do not want the enemy to have anything to work with in case they get that close."
"If we co-ordinate properly it shouldn't happen, but that's an excellent point nonetheless."
"Guys, the more we talk about this, the longer Wolfe is on his own," Blackmoon pointed out.
"He's right. To the armoury!" Nicolai said, and gestured for the Combat Rangers and Ginny to follow him.
"Aren't you coming, Hermione?" Ginny asked.
Hermione shook her head. She wasn't nearly as good in a fight as Ginny was, and her instincts weren't really honed for battle. "I'd only get in the way. I think I'll go help Mr Ironheart ferret out the spy."
"Good luck with that."
"And you, try not to get hurt, all right?"
Ginny smiled confidently. "And make Harry a widower? Don't worry, I couldn't possibly do that to him."
Yes, the armour was bulky, but it was also surprisingly comfortable and quite light. Ginny had also expected the padded jumpsuit they wore underneath the armour, made up of quilted layers of cloth and batting, to make things uncomfortably hot, but she had a hunch that it was also imbued with magic that made it more comfortable for the wearer. To her relief, Nicolai had been right about the armour adapting itself to accommodate her wings, and even better, the armoured gauntlet disappeared from her hand only to re-appear hooked to her side when it occurred to her that it would be hard to conduct proper wand movements with them.
"Good thing the armour just appeared on our bodies the moment we touched them," Matt said. "It took the Muggle knights of old quite a while to put on their armour. It isn't like throwing on some clothes. You can't do it in a hurry."
"I wonder what my father would think if he saw me dressed up like a Christian crusader," Osman wondered out loud.
"We don't look like the crusaders. The helmet looks Roman, and besides, full plate armour developed somewhere in the late fourteenth century. They didn't have this kind of armour during the crusades," Bihn Nguyen said.
When no one answered, she interrupted the practice sweeps and thrusts with the weapon she had chosen in the emperors' personal guards' extensive armoury and noticed the odd looks her male colleagues were giving her.
"What? It's a hobby!"
"And I thought I knew you like the back of my hand," Khan muttered, before continuing to familiarise himself with his own weapon.
Like most of the others, Ginny had picked a sword. Hers was a two-foot-long leaf-shaped blade resembling Celtic designs, with a eight inch handle that could accommodate both her small hands. Hiro Ui's looked very much like a Japanese Katana save for the fact that the gilded hand-guard looked like that of medieval western swords, and Bihn Nguyen's resembled a Chinese sabre. The others, except for Khan, Osman, and Matt, who were armed with a flail, war hammer, and mace respectively, all carried more traditional medieval broadswords. One thing all their weapons had in common was the magic glow surrounding each of them.
"I hope that damned brand stops itching when it's time to fight," Blackmoon grumbled. "It's distracting enough to get me killed."
Ginny agreed about the itching part, though it was diminishing rapidly. She wondered what Harry would think of her new tattoo.
"Don't jinx yourself by saying those things," Magnus Brody said warily. He had been silent for an uncharacteristically long stretch of time, and judging from the look in his eyes, she could tell there was something on his mind.
"Hard to jinx myself without holding my wand, but I know what you mean. Are you okay?" Blackmoon asked, also having picked up on Brody's unease.
Brody shook his head. "I'm losing my edge. Ever since Eilis told me she was pregnant, any remotely dangerous situation terrifies me. I'm holding on too tight."
Hiro Ui gave Brody an odd look. "Our job is not that dangerous."
"You say that because you weren't here before Harry Potter joined the Order … before Voldemort's death."
"The attrition was terrible," Khan said. "I lost many friends. Things only became quiet after Potter and Wolfe became nearly invincible."
"The only father who can do our job without worries would be Harry, and I think he worries anyway." Matt reached over and clapped Brody's shoulder armour with his armoured gauntlet. "Use the thought of going back to Eilis and your kid to stay extra sharp, and that if something should happen to you, they'd be well taken care of. If you let your fear paralyse you, you'll be dead that much quicker."
Ginny scowled at Matt's choice of words, which had only increased Brody's unease further. Then she stepped over to Brody and linked her free arm through his. "You've already learned how to embrace the consequences of your dangerous job when it comes to your own person. You need to learn to extend it to your family. I know what you're going through."
"Thanks, Ginny."
"Is everyone ready?" Nicolai called from the armoury's door.
"Yeah, we're ready," Brody replied.
Everyone followed Nicolai out of the armoury and down a mazelike set of corridors, while he explained the plan forming in his mind. They were headed towards the guards' dock, where they would take one of the ships and fly down a few floors so they could work their way up to the intruders and catch them in the rear.
They reached the statue of a guardsman holding a spear. It immediately stepped aside, and the wall behind it slid open almost noiselessly. Nicolai led them down a spiral stairway and into a vehicle storage dock, where they found three blue ships. They were about between sixty-five and seventy feet long, with a twenty-three foot beam. Two of them were very dusty and in obvious need of repair, but one looked like it had recently been restored to full working order. It had two crystal cone 'masts' but no sails. Otherwise it looked a lot like a Muggle ship, with an ornate three-dimensional version of the dragon on her armour adorning the bow.
Nicolai ascended the gangplank and headed straight to the elevated rear deck, where the bridge was located.
"Are you sure this thing will fly?" Matt asked.
"This ship is in peak working condition," Nicolai assured him. "With Grandpa's help I enticed a few retired Ranger artificers to work on this in exchange for a free gemstone on their wands."
Ginny smiled to herself as she realised why Li-Mei Yee had returned to Concordia, and why she and Janos Gaal frequently went to Shamballah. She ran her hand against the smooth transparent column and felt an odd magical tingle run up her arm.
"Welcome to the emperors' personal guard, Lady Draconian," a soft female voice seemed to whisper in her ear.
"What was that?" Veranus Akwenje asked, looking around nervously.
"The ship," Nicolai answered. "Cloud Jumper is intelligent. Her magical brain is below-decks." He turned to Ginny. "She welcomed you."
"I know." Ginny tapped her ear. "I'm wearing your translator."
Nicolai beamed at the implied compliment. Then he began to issue orders, telling the ship to launch and take them down a number of floors. The crystal cones began to glow and the ship lurched into movement. The gangplank retracted as the wall in front of the ship opened into a circle, and moments later they were in the Shamballah sky. Looking back, Ginny just managed to see the wall magically close up again before the ship began to descend quite rapidly, the sudden dip making Ginny's stomach flutter pleasantly. Just as suddenly, the ship decelerated its descent so quickly that it nearly forced Ginny to her knees.
The ship manoeuvred itself as closely as possible to Imperial Tower, and the gangplank extended outwards again, connecting the ship to a large window. Lieutenant Osman didn't bother with the plank, leaping cleanly from the ship back into the tower. The others followed with extreme swiftness—a testament to their training—and Ginny had to put her best leg forward to keep up. In retrospect she needn't have bothered to hurry, since Nicolai had lingered some ten seconds to give the ship some instructions, and when Nicolai had joined them, the Rangers all turned to him.
"Now what?" Matt asked softly, while he obviously kept an eye out for lurking foes and made Ginny feel a bit foolish for admiring the tapestries covering the walls while she should have been doing the same.
"I know where the enemy is, but we shouldn't rush in there, should we?" Nicolai said. "We should have done this earlier, but I believe we ought to form partner-teams and groups before we proceed."
"Right!" Lieutenant Osman nodded, taking charge as the ranking officer. "Savin and Weasley-Potter will form a team with me. Ui, and Nguyen are team two. Kelly with Akwenje are team three, Blackmoon with Yalew are team four, Khan with Montalban … five, and Brody with Saibou are team six. Team six will join my team if groups are to be formed, and rest of you separate by odds and evens. Questions?"
No one said anything.
"Good, then we move!"
Imperial Tower's corridors were lined with decorative columns, so it wasn't hard to advance while staying under cover. The pairs and trio leapfrogged from cover to cover, with one pair always covering the corridors while the others advanced. Soon they began encountering the bodies of the unfortunate souls who had happened upon the intruders. Some of them had been completely eviscerated, and catching a glimpse of Nicolai's eyes, Ginny saw that he was as shocked as she was.
They didn't encounter any opposition until the next floor, where they ran into a patrol of four goblin-like creatures, the main difference with goblins being that they were as taller and nastier-looking. They wielded glistening metal staves tipped with flat oval heads that looked like they had quite keen edges. One of them had what appeared to be the same staff-like weapon coiled around his forearm with the oval head serving as a small shield, revealing an unusual property for such a weapon.
They strode through the corridor like they owned the place, obviously not expecting any resistance from the notoriously pacifistic people of Shamballah. Brody, who was up front with Zili Saibou, relayed a plan to Lieutenant Osman using hand gestures that had become second nature even if Ginny herself didn't use them often. However, since Rangers from other divisions at times were required to enter dangerous areas, they constantly received refresher courses, which enabled Ginny to understand what Brody was suggesting. He wanted two stunners to strike each creature in case—Ginny guessed— they happened to be more resistant to the hex than their size would suggest.
Osman nodded and signalled for teams two, three and five to each take aim at one of their foes, and extensive training protocols detailing which team was team was to aim at which target prevented two or more teams from aiming at the same one. Each goblinoid was neatly struck by a pair of stunners to the face, snapping their heads back and blowing them each back a dozen feet or so. They had barely hit the ground when the same teams yanked the goblinoids towards them with Summoning Charms, instead of advancing forwards and possibly exposing themselves to an unseen second patrol which might have been following the first one through the curving corridor. Even though the Rangers hadn't heard any shouting as a result of their attack, it didn't mean that there was no-one there. History had taught the Rangers that plenty of foes had more common sense than garden gnomes, which actually came out to see what the commotion was all about during de-gnomings.
After making sure that the goblinoids were unconscious and searching them for additional weapons, the Rangers conjured chains and wrapped the prisoners in them in such a position to make it impossible for even the best contortionist to wriggle out of them. They proceeded to shoot one more stunner into each goblinoid for good measure, before propping them up behind the columns and Disillusioning them. Then Brody and Zaibou Disillusioned themselves and went forward to check for ambushes, and they returned thirty seconds later, declaring the passage to be safe.
The Rangers continued unchallenged until they reached a straight corridor with set of stairs at the end, leading to the floor where Wolfe had headed off the intruders. Twelve goblinoids emerged from the stairs, appearing much more alert than the patrol the Rangers had waylaid earlier. Maybe that patrol should have checked in somewhere by now, causing the other goblinoids to suspect something. Ginny's heart began to pound more quickly. The Rangers numeric superiority was down to one now, and the odds of a quick and silent strike were slim.
"Looks like we can't do two stunners each this time," Osman muttered.
"If they see me hovering in the middle of the corridor, they might be too baffled to see their friends go down after your first salvo," Ginny whispered.
"Are you crazy? It's too dangerous!"
"The ceiling's twenty feet high, and fifteen wide. That's enough room to manoeuvre. And I've still got my wand to defend myself with."
"The added distraction will significantly increase our chances," Nicolai added.
Osman shot an inquiring glance at Khan, who nodded. "All right," he relented.
Ginny rose from her crouch and concentrated, soon feeling the wings sprouting out of her back and sliding between magically appearing slits in both the padded clothing beneath the armour and the armour itself. Then she unfolded her wings and took to the air, with her wand already in her hand.
It didn't take long for the goblinoids to notice her, and their beady eyes went wide when they did. They started towards her with their battle-staffs raised, barking something that her translator didn't recognise, which meant that Nicolai probably didn't know their language yet. The pair up front went for boomerang-like weapons they had, tucked in a bandolier slung over their torsos. All the goblinoids had their attention on her.
Wanting to give her fellows better ranges and angles, Ginny slowly flew backwards, getting the goblinoids to follow her. She desperately wanted to glance at the other Rangers to see if they were about to attack, but she knew her eyes might betray their presence. She wished she had a visor, and suddenly something slipped down over her eyes from nowhere, slightly darkening the way she saw things. Then she remembered how her armoured gauntlet had disappeared earlier, and concluded that the armour probably had many hidden qualities she didn't know about.
Smirking with delight, Ginny glanced left and right and saw her fellow Rangers tensing for the attack. She pointed her wand at the rear goblinoids. While discussing bedroom affairs with some fellow women in the Artificer Division, Gudrun had claimed never to need this spell since her own body was always more than ready for 'action' when the need arose. The absurdity of that thought crossing her mind at a time like this wasn't lost on Ginny. Gudrun had once confessed to thinking about these matters at the oddest of times, and Ginny concluded that her friend must have rubbed off on her a bit.
"Lubricus!" she shouted, concentrating to put extra power behind the spell. A jet of slippery fluid shot out of the tip of her wand and arced over the goblinoid formation, splattering on the floor behind them. Maintaining the spell, she began to drench the goblinoids as well as the floor around and beneath them, working her way to the forward goblinoids.
Twelve stunners shot out towards the foes in pairs, knocking six goblinoids unconscious. The remaining six proved to have excellent reflexes by attempting to dodge only a fraction of a second later, but the lubricant Ginny had doused the floor with foiled their attempt. They slipped and fell face-first, flat on their backs, or on their sides. In any case, it left them at the mercy of the other Rangers, who finished them quickly and efficiently.
"Don't forget to take the lubricant off before you chain them," Ginny called as she gently descended. "We don't want them slipping free in case they wake up."
"Don't use that tone on us. We're not your husband," Matt shot back.
"I wouldn't have needed to remind Harry. I already have him well trained."
Matt laughed good-naturedly and waved off her comment. "Seriously, nicely done, Ginny. What would we do without you?" he added, winking at her flirtatiously.
Ginny felt her face warm up and was glad that the helmet and visor covered most of her face. "Gudrun wouldn't let me hear the end of it if I allowed something to happen to you."
Everyone chuckled at this, before resuming their work and stowing the bound goblinoids out of sight. Then they continued their way, carefully ascending the spiral stairs, ever vigilant for a goblinoid that might pop up around the wall's curve. Two pairs did, and promptly fell to salvos of stunners before they could even blink, and the Rangers didn't bother to hide them this time. They didn't even stop them from rolling down the staircase, merely sidestepping to allow them to tumble past.
As they got nearer and nearer to the top, the echoes of battle began to reach the Rangers' ears. They were very close now.
"All right, we go in as groups," Osman said. "We have to do our best to keep a distance between us and the enemy. The reaction time they showed earlier suggests that they're extremely quick, so I don't want to engage them close up unless I have no choice. Questions?"
No one said anything, so Osman beckoned Zili Saibou and Magnus Brody to join his team, while the other pairs formed quartets. Osman led them to the landing of the stairs and carefully peeked around the corner to their right before returning to the Rangers.
"This seems like a good spot to defend from. They can't come in from our backs, so we can concentrate on firing in front of us."
"Unless they descend some of the other stairs and make their way to this one," Nicolai cautioned. "They could outflank us if they do that."
"Right, so we have to keep someone in reserve to watch the stairs." He looked at Ginny. "You earlier creativity notwithstanding—"
"Why don't you let Nicolai act as a look-out?" she whispered acerbically. "He's barely started his training year!"
"I've seen what he can do," Khan countered. "Officially we'll keep him a trainee so as not to give the others the impression that he's being treated preferentially, but he'll be working in full capacity."
Ginny heaved a resigned sigh. This was her childhood all over again, only there wasn't a mother to manipulate into telling the oppressing forces off. "All right."
Osman nodded. "Excellent. My group will cover the corridor's imaginary middle. The even-numbered teams will cover the right, and the odd-numbered teams will cover the left. Four people to one sector. There are a lot of them waiting, so make your spells count. Now, if some try to outflank us and start coming from the stairs, we will need to redistribute our positions." He turned to look at Ginny. "Ui, Akwenje, and Zaibou will withdraw to support you. Four wands ought to be enough to cover the stairs."
"Could you spare one person from your attack?" Ginny asked. "I'd like to conjure up some traps along the stairs, but I need someone to stand guard in case the opposition gets smart early. He would rejoin you immediately afterwards."
"I'd like to volunteer for that," Nicolai said quickly. "I know some spells that'll turn those stairs into an obstacle course."
"What if we need to use those stairs to escape?" Matt asked, frowning.
"It won't be anything a Finite Incantatem can't fix."
"All right. Then go make me proud, son."
"It was my idea," Ginny huffed.
Matt grinned. "I know, but too many compliments to you might seem like flirting. If word were to get back to our significant—"
"That's enough, Kelly," Osman interrupted, though his expression didn't match the severity of his tone.
"Yes, dear—oh … sorry, Ghalid. It was the force of habit. You sounded like you were channelling my wife."
Osman shook his head amidst subdued chuckles. "Focus!" He pointed to where the sounds of battle were coming from. "We need to take the pressure off Wolfe."
That immediately sobered everyone up, and Ginny felt bad for letting her pride get in the way when time was of the essence.
"Ready … go!" Osman commanded, and eleven Rangers scrambled into the corridor, hurling curses at an enemy invisible to Ginny and Nicolai. She wanted to take a peek herself, but she knew she had to get to work.
"Why don't we transfigure the whole stairs into a ramp and spray it with lubricant?" Ginny asked Nicolai, as they hustled down the stairs
"That would be a quick and effective solution, but it would be better to have them waste as much time as possible if they choose to attempt the flanking manoeuvre. If they work out too quickly that there's no way to reach us, they'll rejoin the main group, which will increase the pressure on our colleagues."
Ginny smiled. "You know what? You lay the traps and I'll keep watch."
"Stay behind me," Nicolai said, before he began muttering spell after spell, laying curses in an almost random manner. Ginny had intended to spread the traps a bit more or less evenly throughout the stairway to make it easier remember where they were and to dismantle them on the way down. The downside to that was that the enemy might recognise the patterns and leap over the cursed steps. Nicolai, on the other hand, probably wouldn't have any problems remembering exactly where he had placed the traps, and his random system would also make it more unpredictable for the enemies ascending the stairs. He worked his way up the stairs much more quickly than Ginny would have been able to, and when he was done he gestured for her to follow him back to the top, where he placed the final touch on the trapped stairway by turning the final fifteen steps into a ramp and spraying copious amounts of slippery lubricants, onto its surface.
"I doubt they'll ever get to this trap," Ginny muttered.
"Don't be so sure. I made all the others one-shot traps. Like I said, I don't want to discourage the opposition too early. I want to get all the way up to the base of the ramp before they realise that there's no way to reach the top."
"No wonder you beat Ron at strategy games all the time."
Though the helmet obscured most of Nicolai's face, Ginny could still see it redden a little bit.
"The origin of my intelligence hardly makes our matches fair, but thanks. I'll go join the others now. Give a shout when the enemy reaches the ramp."
Ginny watched him run back and take a spot between Lieutenant Osman and Magnus Brody, who were both in deep concentration as they fought to keep the enemy at bay while taking down as many of them as possible. This went on for several tense minutes that each feeling like an eternity and added to Ginny's feeling of uselessness. Just as she started to contemplate disobeying orders and joining the rest of the Rangers—after all, it wasn't like this was an official Ranger mission—an angry shout echoing up the stairs told Ginny that the goblinoids were indeed attempting to outflank them and had tripped one of Nicolai's first traps in the process.
As Nicolai had predicted, it wasn't enough to cause the enemy to give up, and shrieks of agony followed by shouts of outrage grew increasingly louder as the enemy ascended the stairs. Ginny was about to alert the other Rangers, when the whole place started quaking and a surge of magic gave her goosebumps under her armour.
The Woroghs initially tried to kill Wolfe with their sharp boomerangs, but gave up on that when he kept Banishing them back into their ranks, killing the throwers or the Woroghs behind the throwers. After a few dozen of them fell this way, they began attacking him two at a time, and finally three at a time in an attempt to crowd him. After an incalculable number of attempts, the ones trying to attack him now had to climb over the bodies of their dead fellows to reach him. The pile of bodies had grown with each attack, turning it into a rampart. Wolfe had built a fortress of dead Woroghs.
He didn't know how many Woroghs he had killed, but he knew that he hadn't killed enough. As he fought he could still hear hundreds of Worogh voices on the other side of the pile of dead bodies, and as time wore on, his desperation grew. His basic human instincts screamed at him to flee while he still could. The dragon hide coat Gudrun and Ginny had given him—which had served him faithfully for these many years spent in the Mirror Realm—hung in tatters across his shoulders. It had held up well for a while, deflecting many blows that got through his defences despite his best efforts. Without it, Wolfe would have been cut to ribbons by now. As it was, he could feel the subsequent grazing hits occasionally scored by the more talented Yooghs burning like oncoming frostbite, the pain further being inflamed by his own salty sweat that was now literally pouring off him.
From the corner of his eye, Wolfe saw a warrior standing on top of the pile of bodies trying to take aim with the boomerang. He quickly pulled a freshly decapitated but still standing Worogh in front of him, and the boomerang buried itself in the body with a squelching sound. The sneaky thrower howled with frustration and leapt off the gruesome elevation with his staff raised, intending to cleave Wolfe in half. Wolfe shoved his shield away and took a large step backwards while bringing his sword in a high overhead guard. The Worogh's reflexes were quick, and Wolfe saw the metal staff go slack while the Worogh was still coming down. It was an obvious attempt at disarming him, something Wolfe had hoped that the Worogh would do upon seeing him holding the sword in a high guard. He stepped aside at the last moment, causing the now whip-like staff to slap the floor, the still-rigid oval head burying itself in the marble. The Worogh tried to dislodge it with a flick of his wrist, but the head was firmly stuck in the floor, as Wolfe knew it would be. Stiffening the staff again probably would have made the staff easier to withdraw, but Wolfe never gave him the chance to do that. He slashed the Worogh across the belly, and it crumpled to the ground with an uncharacteristically peaceful sigh.
The next Worogh was already arcing his staff at Wolfe, and a tired Wolfe failed to sufficiently dodge it. The attack caught a gap between the remains of Wolfe's dragon-hide coat and opened a shallow cut in Wolfe's left shoulder. He managed to parry the follow-up slash and retaliated with a roundhouse kick to the Worogh's chest, putting enough magic into the kick to crush the Worogh's chest. It pitched back and fell on top of other dead Woroghs, coughing up mouthfuls of blood. The Worogh didn't look like he was strong enough to defend himself any longer, but Wolfe didn't take any chances and stepped on the hand still loosely holding the staff before finishing the Worogh with a thrust in the eye. Then, expecting the next Worogh to attack him any second, he leapt back farther onto the threshold with a backwards salto.
There were no Woroghs storming down the pile of bodies. Instead, the armoured Yoogh tribe chieftain stood on top of the pile, wielding a sword Wolfe never thought he would see again. The black hilt's hand-guard looked like a pair of batwings sprouting out from a evil-looking skull. The skull's eyes were set with twin red gems that burned brightly like demonic eyes burning with malice. The blade was surrounded with a dirty red glow. Maximus had wielded that blade when Wolfe had been trapped in the recesses of his own mind.
It must still have been aboard Yamato's wrecked centipede ship, and Yamato must have made a brief stop to recover it before fleeing the Immortal's circle. Wolfe had a hunch that the sword was part of the reward the Yooghs had accepted in return for this attack … along with another item that belatedly caught Wolfe's eye.
When analysing his fight with the minotaur Rhasdogul, Wolfe had inquired about the source of the minotaur's abnormal strength. Resistance spies familiar with the minotaur had confirmed that an elaborate obsidian-studded leather belt had increased his already considerable minotaur strength. Now the Yoogh chieftain was wearing that belt, which meant that Wolfe couldn't count on overpowering him if they locked blades.
With a smile showing a row of razor sharp teeth, the Yoogh chieftain descended the pile of corpses, showing contempt for his own fallen men as he jabbed the sword into the bodies to provide him with support.
"You are a worthy fighter," the chieftain said in a scratchy voice. "It will be a delight to taste your blood upon my sword."
"You are most definitely not a worthy fighter," Wolfe retorted. "Had you been one, you wouldn't have sent your underlings to their deaths in an attempt to tire me out."
The chieftain grinned evilly. "Attempt? A successful attempt, I would say!"
Wolfe shrugged nonchalantly. "I was tired when I killed Rhasdogul too. It didn't matter that he was wearing that belt," he added coolly while pointing at the chieftain's middle with his sword, and was satisfied by the wave of dismay rolling off the Yoogh chieftain. "Yeah, so much for the element of surprise. Come on, pal. I want to get this over with."
All the Yoogh-tribe Woroghs he had faced so far had shown a great deal of competence. Their movements had been economic and well balanced, and Wolfe knew that the only reason he was still alive was because of his magical edge and because he was very good at implementing the required footwork that kept him from being outflanked. The chieftain seemed to be planning to face him alone, so dealing with flanking attempts wouldn't be a problem in this case, though he did keep an eye on the dozen or so Woroghs balancing on the piles of corpses around the mini arena, in case they tried something.
Tendons popped and cartilage cracked as the chieftain moved his neck and shoulders to loosen them, and Wolfe saw that the armour stretched and contracted with his torso for maximum flexibility. It seemed to be made in the same manner as the staff-weapons, namely, with spun metal wires. Wolfe knew that the Woroghs could make high quality magical weapons, so didn't count on his magical blade to be able cut through the armour. After all, it hadn't been able to slice though the staff-weapons either. He needed an alternative strategy which would end the fight quickly, because he was in no shape for a contest of strength. Having made that mistake with Rhasdogul, he wasn't about to tire himself out like that again. He wished he could incinerate his opponent with a fireball, but he instinctively knew that doing that at this point would put too much of a strain on his magic.
Wolfe planted his left foot forward and held the blade in front of him in a middle guard, waiting for his opponent to attack. He didn't have to wait long, for the chieftain quickly attacked, slashing low and aiming for Wolfe's leading leg in an obvious attempt to gauge his reflexes. It wasn't a serious attack, and it was the only opening Wolfe needed. He quickly stepped in with his right leg, twirling to slap the red-glowing blade to the ground and keep the chieftain from turning his attack into an upward-moving one. The resulting leverage from the opposing blade's resistance allowed Wolfe to add force to the kick that would come after he raised his left leg and continued his move like a pirouette. The unorthodox move dazzled the chieftain like pirouettes dazzled ballet audiences and left them breathless. The chieftain was definitely left breathless after Wolfe's leg uncoiled in a high kick and slammed into his throat, crushing his windpipe.
The chief stumbled back, clutching his neck while he shot Wolfe an incredulous look. Until this very moment, Wolfe had never forgiven Master Lei for sending him to Muggle ballet lessons, which, according to Master Lei, were the best way to master the manoeuvre. The logic had drawn no arguments from Wolfe, but that fact that he would be forced to wear a skin-tight unitard had.
"You should consider yourself fortunate that none of your warriors will live to tell how easily you were defeated." Wolfe said, trying his best to sound casual and hoping that the onlookers wouldn't see his show of confidence for the bravado it really was. He had no idea how many Woroghs there were left, but he knew the answer was … "Too many."
"You could still flee. You could defeat them by playing shadow games in the tower's corridors," Jelly, who had kept silent so as not to distract him finally spoke up in his mind.
Wolfe knew the Woroghs had information on how to get around in the tower. He knew there would be no stopping them when they passed this point. They had previously moved in small groups and would resume doing so if he let them. He simply wouldn't be able to find them all in time, and they'd all gather at the top level. There was no guarantee that they didn't come prepared to remove whatever obstacles separated the palace proper from the rest of the tower. Nicolai's golems, along with the Rangers Wolfe had spotted in the ballroom, would probably defeat the remaining Woroghs, but not before some of his friends and many innocent people were cut to ribbons. Innocent people like his children.
The power of his emotions manifesting themselves in the form of the love for his friends and family awakened something in him. If his soul were like a trunk containing his magic, what he was experiencing felt like a false bottom popping open, revealing the trunk to not be like the ones magically expanded to contain extra-dimensional space—which was a level he had already achieved—but a doorway to a chasm the size of the Grand Canyon that was filled with boundless energy. He instinctively knew that he was tapping into the very source of magic, the only limit to his power being how his body could handle.
Knowing that he now had plenty of energy to spare, Wolfe willed his wounds to heal themselves, which they did in the fraction of time it had taken him to heal himself in the past. The only time he had healed himself that quickly was when he and Harry had been one entity. He looked at the dying chieftain and saw a golden glow reflecting in his beady black eyes. Then he looked at the other Woroghs standing around him on the piles of corpses, their clothing flapping as if they were standing in high winds and their weapons gleaming in the golden light. They were terrified!
Wolfe smiled.
Ginny desperately wanted to see what was going on as screams of goblinoid agony echoed through the corridor behind her. She remained focussed on her objective and her attitude was immediately rewarded when a goblinoid appeared at the bottom of the ramp. He tried to ascend but immediately lost his footing and fell, smashing into the incline and sliding back, knocking over a comrade coming up behind him. He righted himself but didn't attempt to climb again. Instead he went for a bandolier slung across his chest, but Ginny never gave him the chance to draw whatever he was about to take out. An arrow shot out of the tip of her wand, flying straight into the goblinoid's mouth that had been open with surprise and causing it to tumble out of sight. She nailed the next one with a stunner between the eyes and found that the earlier precautions to fire two stunners at the goblinoids hadn't been redundant. The target was dazed, but still conscious, and she spared a moment to call for help.
Help appeared by her side about three seconds later, and together they began to pour curses down the stairway, hexing any goblinoid that showed its ugly face. They kept it up for two more minutes, until Osman's voice called for her to desist. Before she could ask why, she found herself being lifted and pulled back by an invisible force. Then Wolfe walked past her, covered in blood, surrounded by a golden aura, his braided forelocks curving upwards like a pair of antennae, and his ponytail hovering a few inches above his back instead of resting on it. He pointed the Phoenix Katana at the stairway and had it blow a sustained stream of fire, bringing forth the sounds of those dying horrible deaths.
When the screams had died away, he turned around and regarded the Rangers with a pair of odd-looking eyes. The irises had gone turquoise and the pupils had disappeared entirely. "Something doesn't add up."
"What's that?" Nicolai asked, apparently unfazed by the fact that his cousin had achieved the Phoenix Fire transformation and turned into a super sorcerer.
"I've just concluded that Yamato leaked information to lure me here."
"To attack the Astirian resistance in your absence resistance, perhaps?"
Wolfe shook his head slowly. "He must know by now that I'm able to teleport in phoenix form. I could be back with the resistance in the blink of an eye. The Yooghs weren't only meant to keep me busy, they were meant to keep me here. There must be something…" He didn't finish his sentence, concentrating instead and creating duplicates. He created hundreds of duplicates, each transforming into a phoenix before disappearing in a flash of flames.
"Where are you sending them?"
"To look for something."
"More attackers?"
"I don't think there are any more mercenaries. The mercenaries were meant to divert our attention from this threat. You might want to begin sending our families back into the Earth Realm."
Nicolai's eyes widened with concern. "You think the threat is something like a bomb? A magical bomb?"
"We used something like that at Laketown to destroy Dementors. Yamato likes copying useful weapons invented by his enemies. No reason he can't employ it here, is there? I bet he didn't expect me to beat the Yooghs this quickly. I didn't think I'd come out of that statue room alive at all."
"Why plant a bomb and risk killing his own people in the process?" Ginny asked.
"I do not think that sacrificing warriors under his own banner is something that would trouble Yamato," Hiro Ui muttered.
Wolfe nodded. "Precisely. They were set up for a double-cross too. It all clicked while I was wondering how the Duchess of Astirian could possibly afford the Woroghs of the Yoogh-tribe's employ. The only logical reason for her pulling this off would be if she didn't intend to pay them in full. She probably got them to come here on a small advance with the promise of a hefty bonus afterwards." He turned to Nicolai and Matt. "Get our families and get out of here before it's too late."
Nicolai turned to Matt. "There is no way everyone in Shamballah can be evacuated in time, so I am not going anywhere. I won't abandon my people."
"And Mary won't abandon you!" Matt replied angrily. "Sorry, but you don't get to play hero. There are times when you need to shelve heroics and save yourself."
"Heroics have nothing to do with it," Nicolai said sadly. "Abandoning my people to save my own skin isn't an option. I have considerable capacity for rationalisation, but this goes beyond that. If I were to do what you are suggesting, I would fall into such a depression that your daughter and granddaughter's lives would be hell. Dying would be bad, but living would be even worse. Don't you see?"
Matt heaved a sigh of resignation. "When she finds out you're not leaving, we're going to have to stun Mary to get her out of here."
"We won't have to if we don't tell her until she's already in the Earth Realm. I'll accompany you to the gate and tell her that I'll follow along shortly."
"Yeah, that would be better," Matt agreed.
"We should begin with the evacuation," Osman spoke up, reminding everyone yet again that time was of the essence.
"Yes, we should," Nicolai said, and strode into the corridor strewn with goblinoid bodies.
The expression of Nicolai's face made Ginny's heart ache. What was supposed to be one of the most joyful days in his life turned out to be a nightmare. And she didn't even want to begin thinking about Mary's reaction when she found out. How would an eighteen-year-old woman—someone barely out of girlhood despite having been faced with the responsibilities of motherhood early—react to the love of her life dying on her wedding day?
Nicolai led them to a window in the thick outer wall, where Cloud Jumper turned out to be waiting for them. They hurriedly boarded the flying ship, which quickly took them to the hanger from whence they had departed earlier, where they disembarked and made their way up to the palace proper through the secret passageway.
"I found it," Wolfe said suddenly.
"Where is it?" a number of voices chorused.
"In front of the Umbral Gate," he answered, before transforming into a phoenix and vanishing into a burst of flames.
Author's Note: I'm sorry tobring thisup again, but I've noticed a drop in reviews. Now, I know thatthe last few chapters haven't exactly kept you on the edge of your seat, so I do understand. When I started writing this fic I had an 'ego-minimum' of twenty reviews per chapter with preferablt twenty-five or more. I have got over myself since then, and nowadays I really don't expect that many. Butbetween the two-hundred of you who have me on your favourite's list, and the hundred and twenty-five who have me on author alert,would it be too much to expect at least one fullreview-page, which is fifteen reviews?
You needn't worry that I'll stop if I don''t get enough reviews. I'll continue even if I get only one review per chapter. But it is nonethelessquite demoralising if only ten percent of the people whom you know are reading your fic (author alerts) review.
Maybe my previouslystatedpreference for critical reviews was misunderstoodas wanting only critical reviews. I do appreciate anoccasional pat on the back too.
Happy Holidays. The next chapter will be updated in the new year.
Gogirl: Yeah, and it is calledDangerous Liaisons.
Lyambren: No, I myself prefer concise description too when I'm reading online. However, I seem to be unable to work my own reading preferences into my writing. ;-)
harrypotterfan777777: Don't worry about Ginny and Ironheart. Not gonna happen.
hootild: So how did you like the destruction?
blah29: Don't worry about missing a chapter every now and then.
Fragarach: Me too.
Lady of Masbolle: In real life, the smallest things jog your memory too. And you'd be surprised how cliched romances are.
RinnaMarie: I always include data that allows the reader to discern how much time has passed, but you have to work for it.
Saint Mike:LOL. Yes.
Elric Magus: Was this enough fighting for you?
Lipton: Good call.
Louis IX: Sometimes a quick execution can be more satisfying than you think. But I understand what you're saying.