“Love is an easy promise beneath a peaceful sky. Its weight is known when the sky falls.”
— An Old Elune Marriage Vow
Tómi was laughing too hard to keep her footing.
“Slow down!” Délé called.
“You’re the one who wanted to come out!”
“I said I wanted some air.”
“Then breathe!”
She caught up and tried to tug him off balance. Délé planted his feet, refusing to move. When she accused him of cheating, he smiled.
Behind them, Elune’s great tree shone through the forest. Lanterns swung among its branches, and the sound of drums reached them across the night. The celebration had grown noisier with every hour, as neighbours arrived to honour Dàre’s medical breakthrough.
Tómi liked festivals. Her cousins had spent the evening teasing her about Délé. She liked them rather less when every aunt and cousin considered her conversation with Délé a public matter.
“Your aunt has interesting questions,” Délé said.
“Forget what she said.”
“She asked if I could carry water.”
“She asks everyone that.”
“And repair a roof.”
“Because the roof needs repairing.”
“And whether I had plans for a long-term commitment.”
Tómi stopped.
“You enjoyed that.”
“Immensely.”
“You could have said something sensible.”
“I told her I was prepared to commit to repairing the roof.”
She struck his arm. Délé laughed and ran. She chased him between the trees, startling luminous insects from the leaves and splashing across a shallow stream.
He looked back to see whether she was following.
Then stopped.
A figure stood between the trunks ahead.
At first Délé thought it might be a traveller wearing dark armour. It was too tall and narrow, though, and the shape of its joints was wrong. Glossy plates covered its limbs. Its insectlike head moved slightly, four eyes catching the distant lantern light.
Délé recognised it from the warnings taught to every child who travelled with Elune.
A Vekari Thrall.
Tómi reached him and went still.
“Délé?”
He took her hand.
The creature’s mandibles moved. A dry clicking came from its throat.
Another click answered from the undergrowth.
Then another.
Délé turned. More shapes stood among the trees, some upright, others low to the ground. They had appeared without either of them hearing their approach.
“Run,” he whispered.
The nearest Thrall bent its legs.
They ran.
Branches whipped at their sleeves. Tómi vaulted a root and landed badly; Délé caught her elbow before her knee struck the stones. A Thrall burst through the ferns behind him. He ducked under its reaching limb, dragged her across the stream and scrambled up the opposite bank. The clicking followed, now coming from both sides.
“The ridge!” he gasped.
“I know!”
If they could reach the ridge, someone below might hear them. The lights of Elune would be in sight.
Délé knew the northern trail from supply runs. Past the stream it narrowed between two fallen trunks before climbing to a ridge that overlooked the camp. If they kept to the path, they could descend from there in minutes.
Except the Thralls were not merely chasing.
A Thrall sprang onto the right-hand bank before they reached it. Délé veered left; another skittered through the streambed, cutting off the shallows. He doubled back towards the fallen trunks. The creatures gave ground there, leaving the narrow climb to the ridge strangely clear.
“Why are they doing that?” Tómi whispered.
Délé had heard that Thralls chased anything that fled. He had never heard of them giving up an open path so their prey would take another.
He squeezed her hand.
“Don’t look back. Run for the lights.”
They scrambled past the fallen trunks. Délé tried to shout while running, but the words came out as breathless sounds no louder than the leaves they pushed aside. Ahead, the ridge finally broke through the trees.
He heard the drums before he saw the lanterns, and the familiar music filled him with hope so sudden that his eyes stung. They had only to make the camp notice them.
At the top, the celebration lay spread beneath the enormous tree, bright and peaceful. For one absurd instant, Délé could hear people laughing over the music.
“HELP!” he shouted.
A Thrall sprang from the brush.
Délé twisted sideways and the creature struck his shoulder instead of his chest. He rolled down the slope, caught a root and hauled himself up. Tómi darted towards him, but a second Thrall came between them. He grabbed a loose branch and swung. It snapped against the creature’s forelimb, forcing it aside long enough for him to reach her. He seized her hand and they ran towards the trees.
Another Thrall stepped onto the ridge behind them, a spear in its grip. It hurled the weapon as they fled. The spear struck them both and pinned them against a tree. Neither moved again.
Above the canopy, a pale-winged Vekari hovered without approaching. It watched the movement below as Thralls crowded towards the distant lights. When it shifted position, the mass of creatures turned with it.
No spoken order passed among them.
The first attackers accelerated towards Elune.
* * *
Khepri had reached a promising stage in his explanation of how the hunters’ great horns might reinforce a lifting machine.
Simi was not impressed.
“You cannot make everything into a machine.”
“I haven’t tried everything.”
“You tried the cooking stove.”
“It wasted heat.”
“You tried Sẹ́ni’s examination chair.”
“It was uncomfortable.”
“You made it difficult to sit on.”
“A design setback.”
Dàre was laughing at the opposite side of the table. Sẹ́ni attempted to conceal her amusement behind her cup.
Khepri took their reactions as support and spread his drawing flatter.
“If the base rotates, the horn’s natural shape could support—”
A whistle came from the north.
He stopped.
Another whistle answered, farther away. A scream followed, faint beneath the music. Then the bronze alarm bell sounded three sharp strokes.
The musicians fell silent.
Dàre rose before the last note faded.
A guard ran into the clearing.
“VEKARI!”
For a heartbeat, the word seemed to stop everybody moving. Then the entire settlement changed.
People reached for their children. Healers called for carriers. The clan head sent messengers towards the southern road. Nobody asked whether the alarm was a misunderstanding. The warnings had been taught too carefully for that.
Dàre caught the guard by the arm.
“How many?”
“Thralls. Six at the treeline, then more. I couldn’t count them.”
“Where?”
“Northern path. They’re coming straight towards the wagons.”
“Tell the clan head they’re coming through the northern path. Everyone south, now.”
The guard ran.
Sẹ́ni stepped forward. “What about the eastern route?”
“We don’t know whether it’s clear. Keep people together.”
Dàre looked at his children.
“Simi, stay with your aunt. Take Khepri with you.”
Khepri grabbed his sleeve.
“Father?”
Dàre knelt.
“You remember the emergency routes?”
“Yes.”
“Then follow Simi. Help where you can, but don’t leave her.”
Khepri knew what Thralls were. He had read about their different arthropod lineages, the diseases associated with the Vekari and the difference between their frenzied lesser ranks and more intelligent members of the race.
He had never seen one outside a book.
“Are they really here?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll find you.”
Dàre pressed a hand to his shoulder, then headed for the family wagon and his bow.
Simi took Khepri’s hand. His unfinished drawing lay on the table, its corners lifting in the night breeze. He almost reached for it.
“Leave it,” she said.
He followed her.
* * *
The northern approach narrowed between two enormous roots before entering Elune’s central clearing. Guards had rolled wagons behind the first barricade, leaving a path for defenders to retreat. Archers occupied two platforms overlooking the treeline.
Bọ́dé stood at the timber wall with his shield raised. Làmi was climbing to the higher platform.
Dàre joined them.
“Anything?”
Bọ́dé pointed.
Shapes moved between the trees.
Dàre counted fourteen. Then twenty. More kept appearing, some stumbling over roots, others running along trunks or springing between low branches. Their dark bodies pressed forward with no obvious formation.
A young guard beside him swallowed.
“There are too many.”
No one contradicted him.
“How long until the last patients leave?” Bọ́dé asked.
“Longer than we’ve got.”
“Then we’ll have to be difficult.”
The first Thrall burst into the open. Its heavily plated body dropped to all fours as it cleared a root, then rose and rushed the barricade. Others followed, their movements varied and disordered, yet every one of them converging on the same target.
“Archers!” Bọ́dé shouted.
A volley struck the attackers. Several fell. The others came on, scrambling over their companions without slowing.
Dàre drew his bow.
His arrow struck the leading creature as it reached the outer timber. He channelled Chi through the shaft and strengthened the effect of the original impact. A ripple knocked the Thrall backwards, giving the guards space to restore their footing.
Then the horde struck the wall.
Timber groaned. Hooked limbs appeared between the planks. A guard lost hold of his shield and stumbled towards the opening before two others pulled him clear.
Làmi’s arrows fell from above with disciplined precision. A Locust-lineage Thrall leapt over the barricade and landed among the defenders. Bọ́dé met it with his shield, staggering beneath the impact.
Dàre moved sideways, fired and added an Accretion pulse at the creature’s flank. Bọ́dé drove forward as it lost balance. Together they forced it back beyond the wall.
Three more climbed into its place.
“Hold the line!” Bọ́dé shouted.
The guards locked shields and called openings to the archers. Those who could still fight rotated into the gaps; wounded defenders were pulled towards the retreat lane.
And the horde was still growing.
A second group poured from the trees. Beyond them came another, their clicking calls carrying across the forest. Some crashed against the barricade directly. Others climbed over the fallen or searched for a way around.
Dàre took another arrow.
He could feel the defensive line changing under pressure. At the beginning, the guards had been able to choose where they stood and call their shots. Now they were responding to whatever gap the horde found next. The wall could not survive many more concentrated impacts.
A young shield-bearer to his left stumbled as a Thrall struck the timber directly opposite him. Dàre put an arrow into the attacking creature and increased the effect of the shot just enough to force it backwards. The guard recovered his footing and raised his shield.
“Thank you!” he shouted.
“Thank me after we get away,” Dàre replied.
He looked towards the observation platforms. Làmi had begun directing her archers towards the creatures trying to climb the roots that flanked the barricade. Bọ́dé moved along the front line, sending replacements into the gaps left by injured defenders and keeping the retreat path clear.
Dàre knew that if the barricade collapsed suddenly, the first rush could cut the defenders off from the evacuees. He called for the rear guards to clear the wagon gap and ready the next delaying position. Bọ́dé heard him and signalled acknowledgement without turning.
Dàre sent one arrow into the timber just beyond the attackers’ feet. Accretion struck through the shaft a moment later, jolting the barricade outward and throwing their charge off balance. A guard lunged into the opening. Dàre caught his sleeve and pulled him back before the next wave could trap him.
He looked over his shoulder.
Children were being guided away from the clearing. Physicians pushed carriers along the southern road. Some patients could walk; others relied on people already struggling to keep moving.
Not enough time.
“Bọ́dé!” Dàre called.
“I see them!”
“One more minute!”
His friend braced his shield as another mass of Thralls hit the timber.
“We’ll give them two!”
Làmi’s whistle sounded from the platform: the last transport groups had passed the great tree. Dàre raised a hand in answer. Behind the barricade, a carrier snagged on an overturned crate. He shifted two guards towards it and heard Bọ́dé swear as the defenders’ line thinned.
The barricade shook. Behind it, the road remained crowded with people who could not outrun the creatures in the forest. There was nowhere else for the defenders to spend the next minute. Dàre set another arrow to his bow.