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  “Lowville,” Marius said. “Home of the Skyborn twins. I felt it an appropriate landing.”

  Jaina shook her head.

  “It is, indeed. A shame none will live to appreciate the connection.”

  “Think to the future,” Marius said. “To the retellings. A simple decision now will appear a prophetic justice in the tales of our grandchildren.”

  Time passed as the numerous engines formed an ever-widening front line across Weshern’s southern edge. Next came the soldiers, their platforms ahead of the front line, preparing to advance. Their number stretched for several miles, a brilliant gold line to mark the inevitable. Angelic knights circled above all the while, ensuring no Seraphim dared attack the vulnerable ground troops. Normally those knights would have been the leading edge, bombarding defenses with their elements, but not this day. Not when they had the cannons and siege engines.

  Garnett arrived from the front, riding one of Center’s finest rare breed of horses.

  “We’ve encountered no resistance as of yet,” he said, bowing quickly to Marius in the saddle. “It seems they’re all pulling back toward their holy mansion. I expect they’re hoping to clump together while our own front lines expand so they stand a chance. It won’t matter. We’ll surround them from all sides. They’ll fall in time, I guarantee it.”

  “There will be no need,” Marius said. “Wherever they gather, we will crush them with our engines. Have your men wait until the bombardments are finished before marching forward. Your duty is to ensure no survivors.”

  “None at all?” Garnett asked. He kept his voice remarkably steady, but the lift of his bushy eyebrows gave him away.

  “None,” Marius said. “Weshern is awash in weeds, General. When this is over, we will plant anew.”

  “Lovely way of describing a slaughter,” Garnett said. “But hell, they brought this on themselves. I’ll make sure the men get the job done.”

  He turned the horse about and galloped down the blackened dirt road, careful to slow when he encountered one of the many deep grooves carved by the cannons. Marius settled in his chair, telling himself to relax. This would be a long, long day, and he planned the excursion to continue into nightfall. He mustn’t be impatient.

  Knights circled above him trading orders and signals, escorts planned to track the gradually spreading army. Marius saw one knight descend toward him, and he had a feeling he knew who it was before the man even landed.

  “Yes, Liam?” the Speaker asked the kneeling knight.

  “So far there has been no sign of the Phoenix or her brother,” he said. “But Weshern is yet to mount any real resistance, so it will likely be a matter of time.”

  “I trust you know what must be done?” Marius said.

  “The Skyborn twins are to be captured and brought before you so you may decree their fate.”

  “A heavy burden,” Marius said, and he put a hand on Liam’s shoulder. “But one I know you can bear. Fly on, knight, and may the angels watch over you. Stay low to the ground, and stay forever watchful. You will find your moment.”

  “Thank you, my Speaker.”

  “What will you do with them?” Jaina asked once the knight had flown away.

  “Execute them, of course, as a fine example to all for the cost of rebellion.”

  “Will you not reconsider?” Jaina asked, frowning at him. “There is so much we might learn from their blood.”

  “I’ve prayed on this a great deal,” Marius said. “Er’el Tesdon’s plan was doomed from the start. To mix our blood with the blood of demons is a heresy that never should have been allowed. We blinded ourselves to this by dreaming of a future we will never have. I won’t entertain the thought any longer. We spat in the face of God, and in return, we suffer the damage the children of such experiments have wrought. To continue on only risks even greater destruction.”

  The cannons rolled past, theotechs pulling out cracked prisms and tossing them to the ground before replacing them with fresh ones kept in ornate chests built right into the machines. One of the knight giants lumbered past, each footfall shaking the ground. Its grand sword swept side to side, knocking down the occasional wall with ease. The rumble of wheels became a constant quake. Marius rose from his chair and looked upon the mightiest of the war machines. It was an immense cannon named the Spear of God, and the theotechs had not dared test it prior to battle. Not out of arrogance or inability, but simple fear of what damage they might do upon Center soil. The Spear of God was considered one of the true world destroyers, and Weshern would be the first to feel its wrath in five centuries.

  “Summon the ferrymen,” Marius ordered Jaina. “I want to be there when that one fires.”

  Jaina shouted to the waiting men as Marius sat back down in his throne. The chains rattled, the platform rising up to follow the goliath cannon. The marble cannon at the front was short in length but wider than a house. It rolled on ten wheels, each wheel crafted of heavy stone and its axle bathed in oil. Golden images covered its side, all showing a furious angel striking the ground with its spear, the contact causing the gilded land to shatter and break. The back end was stubby and square, with multiple braces pulled upward like the dead legs of a spider.

  The soldiers kept in tight formations at the edge of Lowville and the surrounding fields, still waiting for the next barrage. The Spear of God rolled to a halt and the braces dropped, theotechs locking them in place as the machine prepared to fire.

  “Higher!” Marius shouted to the ferrymen. “I wish to see the countryside.”

  The ferrymen obliged, slowly lifting the platform so Marius could witness the next town several miles to the north. Swaying fields filled the space between, marred by only a single road cutting its way through. They were too far away for him to tell how much had been evacuated, but he could see trails of people on the roads between. Marius swallowed down his guilt. They were afraid and seeking safety. But there would be no safety. Had he not warned them of this time and time again? The people should have spoken out against the actions of their leaders. They should have raged for peace instead of cheering for the lies of Johan and the deaths of Center’s soldiers and knights.

  “Supports ready!” one of the theotechs shouted to the others up front. The six side braces were set, their sharpened ends jabbed deep into the dirt. The seventh and largest bracer clamped down from the back, looking like a great spear piercing the land to keep the cannon in place. The theotech driver put his hands upon the controls, setting the entire thing to vibrating. The golden rivulets brightened as the elements within powered up. The marble itself shone as if every inch were covered with light prisms. Marius understood only a fraction of the technology involved, but he knew one hundred elemental prisms of all types were required to power the weapon. The theotechs had found old scrolls detailing its operation, as well as the distances the cannon would fire, but as for the damage itself, they had only the golden drawings.

  A soft glow built at the Spear of God’s barrel. It started small, as if a fire had been lit in its belly, but grew stronger and brighter with each passing moment. The braces began to shake as the vehicle rocked back and forth, testing the supports. The golden images flashed, then drained black. Lightning crackled from the barrel’s edges. A piercing cry, like that of a furious eagle, rang louder and louder as the Spear of God gathered its power. It released with a sudden, tremendous roar, its shock wave scattering smoke and ash in all directions. The huge cannon rocked backward a dozen feet, dirt spraying to either side as the back spear dug into the earth like a plow. Marius felt his heart stop and his jaw fall slack.

  The Spear of God, flashed his feverish thoughts. Heaven’s wrath made manifest. Lord forgive us.

  The beam that blasted out of the cannon’s barrel grew wider with time as the energy poured forth. It swirled in a multitude of colors, the heart of it angry and black, the outer portions golden lightning. Leading the way like a true spearhead was a triangular piece of molten earth. The spear thrust through the ai
r and descended upon the nearest town, Glensbee. The sky shrieked from the projectile’s passing. The miles between the Spear of God and its target vanished in mere moments. Marius stood locked in place, waiting for the detonation. The drawings showed the spear breaking the earth. The drawings did not lie.

  A blinding flash marked the spear’s eruption, and seconds later Center’s army felt the rumbling shockwave. Gusting wind followed, hot and foul. When the flash subsided, Marius watched the village sink into the earth, collapsing as if Weshern itself had opened its maw to swallow it whole. A black storm cloud swirled overhead, tornadoes of red lightning crackling and dancing through the carnage. He watched buildings rip and twist, pieces flying heavenward as if the ground itself rejected them. The sky between cloud and ground turned red, and an ashen rain fell upon the devastation. The buildings continued to sink. The land itself turned to melted stone and fire. Still the hot wind blew.

  It lasted perhaps ten seconds, but to Marius, it felt a lifetime.

  The storm abated, vanishing into pale smoke like all other creations of the prisms. The tornadoes fizzled into nothing, the red sky became blue once more. Only the roiled earth remained of Glensbee. The angelic knights hovered in place. Every soldier and theotech stood and watched in heavy silence. Marius tried to speak but could not. A stone had lodged itself into his throat and refused to give.

  “We can leave,” Jaina said, her voice quavering. “Right now, we can just go. Who will challenge us? Who would dare resist after such a horror?”

  Marius felt tears travel down his face, sticky against his skin from the hot wind.

  “The way is set,” he said. “And you’re wrong. We are beyond retreat. Weshern’s Seraphim will fight to their very last, and they will welcome death over living through the loss.”

  He looked to the Spear of God. Smoke wafted from the mouth of the cannon. Frost covered its front half, but quickly melted to water and steam. Theotechs opened multiple compartments, tossing out depleted prisms while others rushed to the companion wagon nearby fully stocked with hundreds more for the cannon’s use.

  “Must we use it again?” Jaina asked.

  “Only once more,” Marius said, and he felt relief upon saying it. “Let the holy mansion suffer its wrath. Let Weshern consider that my mercy.”

  The braces lifted from the goliath cannon. The stone wheels turned with a groan, dragging the Spear of God toward the crater of its own creation.

  CHAPTER

  11

  Kael soared through the skies alongside the rest of the Seraphim, the eastern half of Weshern rapidly approaching. The second they’d spotted the invading armies on their return trip home, they’d left the platforms and ferrymen behind, with Rebecca carried in Argus’s arms. Center’s forces blotted out the southern sky, a storm of gold and crimson. The barrage of cannons had left a black mole on the otherwise beautiful green-and-blue expanse of Weshern.

  Clara flew beside him, and Kael spared a glance her way. Her face was pale, her eyes wide open despite the wind’s resistance. He could only guess what she felt. They had all been part of the resistance that pushed for war, but Clara’s family had made it official with their declaration upon capturing the Crystal Cathedral. At that moment there’d been no turning back. Kael prayed they would not be forever haunted by the costs of that decision.

  The grasslands flashed below them, and Kael felt a moment of relief. At least they were over Weshern soil now. They could be part of the frantic defense.

  “Kael!” Clara shouted, pulling up to a stop. Her eyes were wide, her body visibly trembling. Confused, Kael followed her gaze past him to the south as a deep tremor rumbled through his ears. The sight shocked him to a hover, many of those accompanying him doing the same.

  A hell cloud swirled above Weshern soil, crackling with red lightning. Chaos raged beneath it. Despite the distance, there was no questioning the destruction happening beneath that cloud. The ground churned. The buildings crumbled. Somehow the Speaker had unleashed pure devastation.

  “How dare they?” Clara said. She lifted a shaking fist, clenching and unclenching on reflex. “How … how dare they?”

  Kael reached out for her.

  “We need to fly,” he said. She hovered up and down, eyes glazed, her mind lost in a private horror. He shifted closer and took her hand. She startled, and when she first looked his way she stared as if he were a stranger.

  “Clara,” he said, struggling to remain calm himself.

  “I know,” she said. The sudden change was marked only by the growing light of her wings. “Let’s go.”

  They raced across the Weshern fields and rivers, making their way to the holy mansion. Kael saw the roads flooded with people, men and women fleeing toward the island’s center with only the clothes on their backs. Center’s grim tide rolled onward from the south, cannons thundering another stretch of beautiful land to ash.

  Seraphim gathered at the holy mansion, awaiting orders. Argus flew their group past them to land before the front gates and storm inside. Kael followed, trusting him to know where they were going. They passed frightened servants and scrambling soldiers as they sprinted the halls. Near the back of the mansion were two double doors marked with blue swords painted into the black wood. Argus flung them open and the rest followed.

  Within was the war room of Weshern. Seven light elements lit the many maps and lists hanging from the walls. Isaac and Avila stood with General Cutter and Olivia West overlooking a grand table in the room’s center, its surface carved into a facsimile of Weshern’s topography.

  “Mom! Dad!”

  Clara sprinted past Argus and flung her arms around her mother. Isaac stepped away from the map of Weshern to greet her, kissing the top of her blond head.

  “I’m glad you’re safe,” the Archon said as Clara pulled free. “We feared your group had been intercepted along the way.”

  “The invasion started when we were halfway home from Candren,” Rebecca said, completely ignoring him. Thin red blocks marked the advancing front line of Center’s soldiers. Rebecca adjusted several, then tapped her finger on Glensbee. “I observed best I could during our flight. Center has some sort of new weapon, though God knows what. It destroyed the town in a single blast.”

  “We heard,” Olivia said. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and she glared at the map as if she could break all of Center’s forces with her mind. “I’m sure we could destroy it from above if we ever had the chance, but that’s the problem.” She gestured to yellow triangles positioned all about the red line. “From what we can tell, Marius has his knights keeping tight and close to the army’s advancement. We won’t be able to hit the ground troops without first taking out the aerial support.”

  “Varl’s preparing his soldiers to form the first line of defense,” Isaac said. “But it’s going to take time, and every minute we wait lets Center conquer another piece of our land uncontested.”

  “What of the other islands?” Rebecca asked.

  “No word yet,” Isaac said. “I can only hope they send their Seraphim in time. We have no hope of holding without them.”

  “And Johan’s disciples?” Bree asked, unbothered by the glares from Rebecca and Isaac for interrupting.

  “I spoke with Johan only briefly when we first spotted Center’s army on the approach,” Isaac said. “He promised aid, though I know neither when nor where. For now, we move forward without him and treat any help he offers as a welcome bonus.”

  Argus leaned over the map, staring at the locations of the many gold triangles.

  “If Rebecca is right on their placements, then the soldiers are fanning outward in an expanding circle instead of marching in a straight line toward the mansion,” he said. “Marius must believe any resistance we offer will be useless against him. He’s spreading his forces out to be the most time efficient in conquering our lands. That means there won’t be enough knights to cover the entire front line.”

  Argus grabbed five blue circles of wood, each ma
rked with a sword on the top. He positioned two along the far eastern side of Center’s forces, the other two the west. The last he put directly between the holy mansion and the landing site.

  “Marius won’t leave knights alone to guard portions of the front lines, nor will he leave any stretch unguarded,” Argus said. “That means he’ll have knights flying in patrol groups. We can exploit that. We’ll divide our Seraphim into five squads, with two pairs at the outer edges spaced about a mile apart. Both hit simultaneously, and the moment either sees sign of reinforcements they pull back. We’ll keep bouncing the patrols back and forth, never letting them engage or set up to defend. If they try to split in half, then we’ll attack. Mobility and surprise are our best weapons. If we can chip away at their forces we might be able to thin them enough to have a chance.”

  “What of the center force?” Isaac asked.

  “That will contain the majority of our Seraphim,” Argus said. “We’ll try to harass and draw knights away from the groups, but the main purpose will be to watch for reinforcements and dive on them before they can join up with the larger mass. The longer we keep the side groups separate from the rest of the knights, the more damage we can inflict.”

  “A clever, if desperate, gamble,” Isaac said. “But we have no other options. I will leave it to you to create the five squads, Argus, and may the angels smile upon you in this dark hour.”

  Argus snapped a fist against his breast in salute, then hovered off the floor. Clara offered her parents one last embrace, and Kael wished he could convince her to stay behind. If this were their final hour, she should be with her family. Of course there wasn’t a chance in hell that Clara would remain. Weshern needed her in the air. Clara pulled free, flicked her own wings on, and then joined Kael’s side.

  Their wings thrummed as they rushed back outside to meet the greater gathering of Seraphim. Chests of elements lay open in the grass nearby. Kael and the others replaced their prisms with fresh ones and grabbed several more for backup.