Interlude: "Tears in the Reign"

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      Will knew he was about to get up, but he was still in bed, lying in the warm darkness of his room. These moments of denial were always the most torturous. If he would just throw off his covers and accept it, everything would be easier. He knew this, but still, every time, it was the same routine. Now he was just wishing it would hurry up and chime. Nearly ten minutes had passed since the first screech echoed off the castle walls.

      Maybe they retreated. Could it be possible that for once they had given up on testing the force fiel-?

      The triangular sapphire sprung to life, and a sky blue glow splashed over the room, pulsing with the same cheerful chime and flashing that always seemed to mock him on nights like these. Letting out a long sigh, Will reached out and touched it.

      "It took you three minutes longer than usual," he said.

      "Our apologies, Highness," the excited voice of Shamblin Vet, the lead Hangar Clerk came back, "details are still coming in. There appears to be a convoy en route."

      Will found his senses gathering all at once. "That's why I'm awake?" he asked. "Because there's a convoy breaking my 'After Nightfall' laws?" Of course, he realized it was really more like a "request."

      Beyond the force field that protected the Kingdom of Sindell, there were no laws.

      "Yes, apparently so," the voice answered, as if it belonged to the illuminated sapphire. "And apparently they've attracted the attention of an unusually large horde of Winged Creatures."

      Will closed his eyes, massaging the bridge of his nose as he listened. "Mmhm."

      "At this point, sire, it appears to be refugees."

      "Who spotted them?" Will asked, out of bed and fastening the collar of his dark blue tunic. The fabric was comfortable, designed for easy movement and embroidered with the golden insignia of the Sindell Royal Air Force. There was a slight pause before the sapphire responded.

      "Sky Knight Riller, sire."

      "Good work as always," Will said, fastening a heavy leather belt around his waist. The belt supported a long broadsword that swayed at his hip, its jeweled hilt sparkling in the room's arcane glow.

      "How do you wish to proceed then, sire?"

      "How do you think, Shamblin?"

      "I'll have them prepare your ship." Dressed and awake, Will made his way to his chamber door; and with the room falling back into darkness behind him, crossed the threshold.

   

***

      "His Majesty, the King!" heralded William's first steps into the Grand Hallway, shouted by one of the guards who flanked his bedroom door. There was only one other person present to hear it: Jaret Brandon, the hallowed Lord of the Sky.

      "Good morning," he said with a nod as their paths met. He turned on his heels to match Will's stride as he passed.

      "Convoy?" Will asked. "How many notices do we have to drop instructing no movement at night?"

      "I've told you before," Jaret started, his tone serious. "A law against the apocalyptic state of the world is what we really need. Unless you enjoy getting up at this hour, highness."

      Will yawned. "You're an idiot," he said, stifling a grin.

      Their boots echoed off the towering walls and arched ceilings as they passed into an expansive hallway lined by a collection of busts. It was known as the "Corridor of Kings," but to Will it felt like "Scrutiny Row," where every monarch stretching back to the founding of the Bryce Dynasty seemed to judge him with their perpetual, vacant stares.

      His father's would have been the only comforting presence, had it only been there.

      In time, the murals and mosaics had faded from the royal antechambers, the lush tapestries began to come unraveled, and all the treasures of the kingdom had become more precious, squirreled away in vaults by old men for all but the most sacred rooms and important occasions. Even the paint on the ancient monarchs around them was growing pale.

      There was no knowing when his father would appear. When would they see marble again?

      "What else do you know?"

      "No more than you," Jaret said. "Same wake up call. Same information, I'd imagine."

      They rounded the last corner, entering the lobby where the main corridors of the Castle converged. In the center of this chamber, an ivory pillar rose from the marble floor, crowned by a golden miniature airship shown in an eternal climb towards the majestic dome overheard. This was the work of his father as well, and when some ministers first suggested the ship be melted down to pay wages to the militia, he had stood against it.

      Now the ship glittered in the golden glow of nearby lanterns. But during the day, sunlight streaming through the dome was the ethereal warmth of a bygone time, when the white cities of Sindell stretched from green fields to crystalline coasts and cliffs that had become the stuff of children's books. The high arches, circular openings in each allowing yet more of the outside in, seemed almost too delicate to hold up so many hopes.

      The Royal Hangar entrance lay beyond.

      On any night, this intersection was a hub of activity. Tonight, the commotion was geared more towards mingling than urgent business: Word had already spread that this was not just another patrol sent to fend off the demons. The chorus of voices escalated briefly when the prestigious pair was spotted, and then quieted as the king approached.

      All in the crowd bowed low as Will passed.

      Will's words came amidst a smattering of nods, waves, and smirks that looked more like grimaces. He was greatly uncomfortable with the entire process. "Unbelievable," he said quietly, through clenched teeth, in the guise of a smile, as they passed the last of his subjects. "Living in the last pocket of civilization, humanity still worships idols."

      "You're not an idol, Will, you're our king," Jaret responded immediately.

      "I sit on a throne," Will said. "I'll never understand how that makes me different."

      At this, Jaret hesitated briefly, taking time to choose the right words. "I don't think you're supposed to," he settled. "But believe me, it does."

      Will said nothing. Jaret thought that he might never be convinced.

      "I'll tell you what really concerns me," the Sky Lord said

      Will glanced over just as they passed the golden airship.

      "It's been less than a month, and you're already playing the reluctant sovereign."

      For an instant, Will's smile was genuine.

      "I'm not sure I can be friends with someone so cliché," said Jaret.

      As the two guards opened the heavy oak doors to the hangar, the entire Royal Council was waiting on the other side. The sight redirected the king's attention, and he spread his arms with a wide smile.

      Jaret Brandon was in awe, as he always was in moments like these. No one knew Will better, yet every time, the master politician that was in his best friend could have fooled even he. His father had taught him well.

      "My lords!" Will yelled loudly, even slapping his Head Chamberlain, Tharod Freen, on the shoulder as he entered the throng. "To what do I owe this great honor?"

      "His Majesty knows our position on this matter full well," the Head Chamberlain said hurriedly, distracted a moment by the boom of the guards closing the hangar doors behind them. The King had not stopped his stride towards the airships, increasing the urgency in his advisor's tone to an almost comical plead.

      "This is madness, sire! Unacceptable!"

      "Oh?" Will asked, as if hearing this for the first time. "Your Graces confuse me."

      Tharod huffed, offended. "Your duty is at your station! You are lord of the entire realm, not some soldier or servant!"

      As they continued on down the narrow corridor, the sounds of controlled chaos floated down to them. The hangar was near. Mirroring the busts in the Grand Hall, beautiful portraits hung on either side, portraits of the greatest airmen in the short history of the Sindell Air Force. This was the moment Will always took a deep breath and prepared himself for the challenges the night would hold.

      Tonight, Freen made this impossible.

      "Your place is to lead, highness, on the throne," the old man was saying. "Not in these ... abominations." Ignored, the Chamberlain saw no other alternative. "It is the job of inferior men that you do!"

      "None taken," Jaret said. Tharod snapped a glare at him, and that hesitation was enough to nearly pass the King completely, as he had stopped to face his advisors in that instant.

      "Inferior men," William said calmly. He took a deep breath, gathering every shred of restraint he could muster. Finally, he spoke. "These flying abominations, these inferior men, these are the only thing keeping both you and our realm alive."

      The elderly man bowed his head, humbly diverting his eyes.

      "Forgive me if I have offended your majesty," he said, stung. "I only wish to-"

      "I am perfectly aware of what you wish. But if you believe that this crisis is like anything else you have faced before, then you, Chamberlain Freen," William paused a moment, looking past the Chamberlain to the rest of his advisors, "all of you, are grossly detached from reality. Wishes, no matter how noble, will not suffice."

      Chamberlain Freen said nothing. In the end, he was a loyal servant to the crown. His beliefs were rooted in an antiquated vision of how a kingdom was meant to be ruled. But what he didn't understand, what none of them did, was that those ways were the very first casualty of the darkness that had overtaken the world.

      But then, the King realized, perhaps they just couldn't accept it.

      Will had known the man before him all his life, and it was a sad thing to see him so frightened. So confused. "Old friend, listen to me," he said, placing both hands on Tharod's frail shoulders. "We cannot hide behind the force field forever. Where you see protection, I see a burial shroud closing in. We don't even know how it works. Every day I wake up, and I must wonder if it is the last for all of us." The Chamberlain looked up at this, again establishing eye contact with his king. "A throne is only a thing," Will finished. "It would burn like everything else."

      In that moment, there was no politics, only an old man addressing a young one he loved. "Your father would be very proud of you," Freen whispered in a breaking voice, and he was forced to clear his throat. "Although I fear it will mean an end to all."

      "My father's beliefs are my own."

      "Yes, and so, we have already lost one king to the sky."

      For the first time, Will seemed to reflect on the old man's words. His faraway gaze was reminiscent of when he was a boy being reprimanded by the very same voice.

      "Only he had you, my King. You cannot say the same."

      After a long pause, the Chamberlain's head canted to the side in unspoken hope.

      It was not to be. "On the contrary, my dear Chamberlain," Will said. "I have me as well." With that, Will turned on his heels to continue down the hall. "Please, return to your chambers and get some sleep, my lords," he said after his back was turned.

      Behind him, Jaret shoved through the Council, offering a polite, but amused "My lord" to the Head Chamberlain as he brushed passed him toward the King. Will did nothing to acknowledge his friend's presence as he came to his side. Jaret spoke just as the hallway opened up into the titanic chasm that was the Sindell Hangar.

      "I have me as well?" he said.

      Will smirked. "It's all I could think of. Just keep walking."

      Sky Knight Riller spotted them immediately. "Majesty!" He bellowed over a cacophony of high-pitched airship turbines, shouting voices, and a host of bustling activity. Will and Jaret never slowed, and the Knight fell in step with them as they made their way to where their airships, the greatest marvels the world had ever known, stood waiting and ready, surrounded by ground engineers finishing up their preparations.

      There was a time when monarchs and noblemen from every corner of the world would travel across oceans and journey thousands of miles to stand in this place. Now, nearly all of those who once stood here were dead, and their realms with them. The few who were not were lost, their fates uncertain.

      "So tell me about this convoy, Wess," Will said, abruptly changing his path to avoid an engineer who was hurriedly hauling a cart of spare parts.

      "Three wagons, sire," Riller started. Fresh from his patrol, he still wore his leather flight gloves. "Stopped on the Main Gate Thoroughfare less than five miles out."

      Will nodded. "Stopped?"

      "Yes, sire. Circled into a defensive position. We offered support as long as we could, but there were only two of us. We reported the situation and returned to gain reinforcement."

      "Exactly as you should have," Will said. "But I know that look. There's something else."

      The Sky Knight paused.

      "I can't be sure," he said, and shook his head slightly. "But some of the Winged Creatures seemed to be brought down ... without our intervention."

      "You wanna be a little more specific?" Jaret asked.

      "As we took attack formation, I thought I saw some of the demons fall out of the sky, my lord. Before we raised a hand against them. I can't be any more specific than that."

      "You don't have to be," Will said. "Are you certain you're up to this? It's already been a long night for you, I'm sure."

      "Always, sire," Riller said. "To be left behind is torture."

      Will smirked. "I know the feeling," he said. "Get to your ship and wait for my order," the king said, punching him lightly on the shoulder.

      Riller bowed his head slightly and veered off on a separate course towards his airship.

      "What are you thinking?" Jaret asked.

      "I don't know," Will said. "But if I know Wess, it happened just as he reported." Will's airship was in sight, and he shrugged, taking the first few steps away from the Sky Lord. "We'll just have to see for ourselves. See ya up there."

      "Yep," Jaret said, and with a lazy wave, walked away.

      Will's ship bore no markings that might indicate its pilot was the king. It waited like a living, breathing thing in its proper zone. It was an extension of Will's body, and whether he admitted it or not, it was an addiction: a deep, exhilarating addiction.

      "Are you all right, milord?"

      The voice behind William belonged to his engineer, and it brought him back to the present. The king's hands gripped the vertical rails on the small metal stepladder attached to his aircraft, but he had yet to take his first step up.

      "I'm fine," he said to the boy, turning his head. "How's your little sister doing?"

      "Very well, sire. My mother and father were proud of the letter you sent them. Not everyone is congratulated personally by the king."

      "If I only had the time," Will said, reaching out and ruffling the kid's hair. "Anything I should know?"

      The boy engineer spoke as he watched Will climb up. "Both of the aft turbines needed to be replaced, but it was scheduled maintenance." After the king was standing in his cockpit, he unhooked the ladder and pulled it free. "Nothing to worry about."

      Will looked to be adjusting something on the canopy. Still standing, he glanced down and winked.

      "Well enough, Henry. See ya in a bit, eh?"

      "I'll be waiting, sire," he said, then bowed and ran off.

      Will watched him go on for a moment. It was a blessing the boy had no memories of the world before the fall, but there was something sad about it as well. There was heartache there, but no less than he felt himself. Will took a deep breath, finishing the task of unlatching the canopy so that it could be slid forward when ready.

      Looking down, he picked up the cylindrical emerald sitting on the narrow seat. When he went to slide down into it, however, he was shocked at pain in his side. He found himself turned at an awkward angle, and as the reason began to register, William rolled his eyes. His sword was still attached to his belt, and the hilt was pinned between him and the seat. Reaching back, Will snapped his belt buckle, and the sword fell into the seat. Twisting more, he reached back, grabbed it, and pulled the weapon free.

      "Stupid," he said to himself, sliding the weapon under his seat, and locking the sheath into its designated crook. The sapphire on the airship's gauge panel sprung to life in a fit of sky blue light, along with that damned cheerful chime.

      "Happens to the best of us," a familiar voice said, and Will looked across the hangar to see Jaret, who waved. He was already buckled into his airship, and even from this distance Will could see the stupid smirk on his face as he continued his preflights.

      "Waiting on your word, Highness," came another voice. It was Shamblin Vet.

      Leaning back into the seat, this time with no resistance, Will touched the sapphire.

      "Copy that," he said, reaching up to the harness and securing the straps tightly around his shoulders. "Do me a favor, and open a link to Lockhart."

      "As you wish, sire."

     

***

      From high atop the ramparts overlooking the Royal Highway, General Graydon Lockhart stood with his archers. The towering fortress walls and massive steel gate that once protected Sindell served no purpose now. Before him, countless generations of his fathers defended the realm with their blood. Now, much to the General's amusement, he often thought of himself as sharing the masonry's fate. For the shield, the mysterious blessing, was the real protector of the Kingdom: he, like the walls, was old and obsolete.

      "Will they drop it tonight, sir?" one of the archers beside the General asked. There was no fear in his tone, only curiosity.

      "One would hope," the General answered, shifting the breastplate of his armor with one of his massive, gauntleted hands. "Otherwise I'm standing in this cold for no reason, and his Majesty will have even bigger problems than demons."

      The archer smirked. As if on cue, the small, diamond shaped sapphire attached to the General's belt began to blink.

      "Young Shamblin Vet, I presume," he said after touching the stone. He turned his attention back out towards the Highway as he waited for a response.

      "Not tonight, General. I'm afraid you'll have to settle for me."

      It was the voice of the King, which in turn, caught the attention of the surrounding troops. But the murmurs were cut instantly short with a simple raise of the General's hand. "I'll do my best to manage, Majesty," he said. "To what do I owe the honor?"

     

***

      "I'm not exactly sure what's going to happen when the force field goes down tonight," Will said, now settled into the cockpit. He was watching the pressure gauges rise. "Don't know if you've heard, but it's a convoy we're going out to."

      "I have," the General's voice said.

      "Well, you'll agree it's out of the ordinary."

      For a moment, the sapphire just blinked. Then: "You suspect a trap."

      "No," Will said, pulling a flight glove over his right hand. "But not ruling it out."

     

***

      Looking up at a large pocket of Winged Creatures hovering outside the shield, General Lockhart snapped his fingers to get the attention of his archer Captain. He pointed to the threat, and continued as the development spread throughout the ranks.

      "Our heads are always up, my liege. When can we expect to see you?"

      "Soon," was the king's response.

      General Lockhart leaned forward against the stone bastion, stretching his back and breathing in the crisp air. He surveyed the horizon beyond the bluish tint of the shield as he spoke. "I have ten thousand archers spread through the city, all where experience has shown them to be the most effective. Even if you're worried about some sort of ground attack, the force field is never down long enough-"

     

***

      "to warrant any serious concern."

      Will nodded, tumbling the emerald cylinder over and over in his hand.

      "Whether it be the overgrown bats or something else, Highness, we'll be fine."

      "I know that," William said. "May the Heavens be with you and your men."

      "Indeed, sire. With all of us."

      The sapphire went dark as the link to General Lockhart closed. But it wasn't inactive for long. "Sham," Will said, touching the sapphire again.

      "Milord?"

      "Link the team."

      "Copy that, Highness. Linking in progress."

      It was the last step before ignition: configuring the gemstones so that the links between all were locked open. When that happened, General Lockhart, and all of the airmen on the team, were in constant contact, as if standing in the same room.

      It was not as simple as it sounded. Nothing ever was, Will thought.

      The ability for open communication was essential, but dangerous. Panic or indecision could be instantly catastrophic, causing the chaos the system was meant to prevent. It was another lesson learned the hard way, as most were, in the early days of flight.

      "Sapphires linked," Shamblin's voice confirmed, and then ended with the customary: "Long live Sindell. Long live the King," as the airship turbines fired up within the hangar.

      "Alright, wings, report in," Will said, testing the controls. He pulled back and forth on the control wheel, feeling the turbines shift and respond flawlessly.

      "Sky Knight Wesley Riller. Powered and ready."

      "Sky Knight Stellan Fox. Powered and ready."

      "Dragoon Thane Grace. Powered and ready, sire."

      "Ready when you are, fearless leader," Jaret finished.

      "Okay, then. Situation is a convoy, most likely desperate refugees unable to wait for sunrise. We're operating under that assumption for now." Will inserted the emerald, sending a shudder through the cockpit as the turbines came to life. "Any questions, ask quickly," he said, bellowing over the thundering engines.

      "What do we do when we reach the convoy?" Jaret asked.

      "We assess the situation as best we can and then you and I will land at the site," the king answered, again attentive to the pressure gauges. "Riller."

      "Yes, sire."

      "You'll be landing with us."

      "Sir."

      "Stellan and Grace will provide cover from the air. There are a million unpredictable variables involved with landing. It's the most dangerous aspect of this thing, which is why I've decided to lead it personally."

      "I'd leave that out of your report, my liege," Jaret's voice cut in. "Unless you want to be engaged in a fist fight with a seventy year old man."

      "My money's on Freen," Stellan said.

      Scattered laughter fluttered over the sapphires, and though the king smiled privately to himself, his tone betrayed no emotion. "Whatever happens," he said, "one thing is certain. This mission's gonna come at us fast. That's no excuse for recklessness." Will reached up and grabbed the two iron handles attached to the canopy, sliding it forward and enclosing him in the airship. "King has the lead."

      With that, the scream of his turbines blasted through the cavernous Hangar, as he pulled the control wheel to point each downward, and his airship lifted off. Keeping his hand on a stick beside him, he pushed forward until the emerald glistened intently and the turbines reached full power. One by one, they launched out the open roof.

      "General Lockhart," Will said. He hovered over his city as he waited.

     

***

      General Lockhart was looking back over his shoulder, back at the distant airships as they rose like stars out of the hangar. The arcane magic that powered them left a vibrant white halo around them, and at night he thought it a beautiful thing to watch.

      "Standing by, sire," he said.

      Drawing in a deep, slow breath, the General raised his hand. "On your-"

     

***

      "word."

      Will adjusted his levers to direct the turbines aft, pushing once again to full power. His airship shimmered and screamed forward into the night, pinning Will to the back of his seat just as Jaret's airship moved up directly beside him and into the King's peripheral vision. Behind them, the other two followed.

      "Stand by," Will said.

      At these heights and at these speeds, the great city below took on a vastly different appearance. Huge monuments were dwarfed. The City of Sindell, the shining light of civilization, seemed nothing more than a kaleidoscopic sea beneath them, striving in vain against the majestic marriage between magic and ingenuity above. Will's father used to tell him that the city seemed sad in these moments. Almost aware of what it would inevitably become.

     

***

      The stars turned to booming supernovas as they passed overhead in a flashing instant. The General's men stood rigid, taking up fighting stances. The archers ignited their arrows, drew back and aimed upward. General Lockhart watched the airships grow ever closer to the force field.

      "Now!" the King's voice screamed through the sapphire.

      General Lockhart lowered his arm, and at once the pale blue force field flickered and disappeared, joining the Kingdom of Sindell with the world. Exposed, vulnerable: Naked against what the world had become. The deafening screeches were horrific, the appearance of the Winged Creatures even worse, and though the ensuing chaos made it impossible to track the airships, it soon became unnecessary for the General to try.

      "Up! Back up!" the King's voice was heard screaming again.

      "They're through!" the General yelled.

      At once, the force field reappeared, leaving the General to breathe easier.

"Fire!" Lockhart yelled, and the battle was underway.

     

***

      "Not wasting any time tonight!" Jaret said, banking left, right, left. Swarms of the beasts had come like locusts, hearing the hunting-calls of their kin from miles, perhaps even days away for the swiftest horseman. Their keening was on a note the pilots were too familiar with: they scented blood, and the whole countryside was awake with them.

      Will saw his ship dip down before banking and diving hard. The Winged Creature attacking from the front attempted pursuit, but the powerful airship left it disoriented and lost in the whirlwind left in its wake.

      "Engage them as little as possible," Will said, squinting his eyes and keeping his focus forward. He alternated his sight to the right and left, downward towards the abandoned road that twisted and turned like a brown snake against the dark greens of the field it ran through. Moments passed, and each man scanned for their target.

      "There sure are ..." Will held his breath a moment, offering the slightest twitch on the control wheel so that he dodged the beast and it went careening by. "A lot of them tonight, aren't there?" he finished, his voice fluctuating with the strain of his maneuvers.

      "There's the convoy, sire," Riller said.

      "Yeah, I see it," Will acknowledged, spotting it. The wagons were circled, but whatever had been attacking them seemed to be gone. The way ahead of them was clear, but the monsters they had passed still blotted out the sky.

      "You don't have to go down there, Will," Jaret said, true concern in his voice.

      Will never hesitated.

      "Brandon, Riller, on my lead. Stellan and Grace ... start your patrol."

      "Copy that," Stellan answered, then added: "I have the lead, Gracey."

      "Yes, sir," Thane Grace said, and together they climbed into the sky, out of sight.

      The king dove to the side suddenly, Jaret Brandon and Wesley Riller following in quick succession. Dismounting the airship outside the force field was madness. At night it was near suicide: tonight, it would be even worse.

      Will's ship was the first to level out and hover above the ground, but there could be nothing slow about the descent. The adrenaline pumping through the king's veins at the thought of leaving his airship was almost enough to drive him mad. At any moment, the peals of Winged Creatures could be heard, their wings like thunder, and they would have to leave the refugees to their fate.

      There was a bump as the aircraft made contact with the ground. The rush was unreal. The king withdrew the emerald from the gauge panel, leaving it on his seat.

      The three wagons were just ahead, their shadowy silhouettes well defined under the bright moonlight. Beside him, the deafening whirl of Wess and Jaret's turbines faded and their canopies opened. Will snapped his sword out of its brace on the floor, slid the canopy back by reaching up with his free hand, and brandished the blade; throwing the sheath back into the cockpit as he leapt to the ground.

      No words were spoken as he landed on the wet grass, stumbling forward a few steps. Looking up into the sky, he could see the bright blips of Thane and Stellan's airships as they circled overhead, and his comrades immediately joined him.

      "See anything?" Jaret asked, whispering.

      "Nothing," Will said. "Wess?"

      Riller had ducked under the king's airship, watching at their back. "Clear."

      "Let's go."

      The three began their mad dash for the wagons. The cold air ripped at Will's lungs, chapping his throat and leaving the taste of blood in his mouth. It was like a nightmare, complete with the nauseous sensation of running from a predator underwater. Completely exposed, it felt like no ground was being gained, and in the midst of the frenzy, Will wondered why they hadn't landed closer. It soon became clear, however, that imagination was to blame.

      Suddenly, the trio reached their destination.

      Jaret's yell of "Will, wait!" was disregarded, and he jumped up onto the back of the first prairie schooner he came to, throwing back the canvas. Recognizing a presence there, the king jumped back and raised his weapon, ready to strike.

      He was face to face with a terrified woman clinging to her toddler daughter. Both of them were frozen with fear.

      "Hello, sweetheart" he said, glancing up towards the mother, staring into her pale blue eyes. She said nothing. "I'm King William Bryce of Sindell, ma'am. We're here to assist you reach my city's gates. Do you understand?"

      The woman swallowed hard, and managed to nod.

      "I'm going to leave one of my men with you. How many others on this convoy?"

      "Three," she said, her voice hoarse. A few more words were uttered, but trailed off into nothing. Then: "Jaden."

      Screeches sounded all at once from above, followed by the thunder of a pair of swooping airships. Less than thirty yards off, a Winged Creature, sliced neatly in half, crashed into the ground with a sickening plop.

      Will took a deep breath, turning away from the fallen beast.

      "Alright. Jaret, you'll come with me. Riller. Guard these two until we return."

      "Yes, m'lord," Wess said, unsheathing his sword with a clean ring.

      "Who would leave a mother and her child alone like that?" Will asked as they broke towards the next wagon. Jaret pointed to the mutilated corpse of the driver, leaning over the slashed bodies of his horses, without looking back.

      "I don't think that was the intention."

      Will chanced a quick glance over. "Stay alert," he said.

      More shrieks filled the air just as the two came to a stop. Louder this time.

      Jaret took the lead. "Thanks for the tip," he said as he approached. Up close, the second wagon was revealed to be a stagecoach, and its horses were missing.  Looking in through the glass windows revealed only blackness. Crouching down, the Sky Lord slowly opened the door; intending to peek in.

      It was empty.

      "Two down, one to go," he said, looking at Will and rising fully to his feet. He was about to start towards the third when two men walked out of the shadows. Jaret had no time to warn the king before they were upon him, but Will had turned in time, holding the tip of his sword at the closest man's throat.

      "Can I help you?" he asked.

      "King William. Sire. My name is Darvin Nash, and I humbly request asylum for myself and my family," he said, his voice surprisingly calm and steady. Despite the cold weather, he was sweating profusely.

      Will lowered his sword. "Granted. I was told you were three. The other?"

      "There." The man pointed.

      Will looked over in that direction just as Jaret came up to his side. He saw the third wagon, and the distant blue dome that was the shield protecting his kingdom far beyond. "It still has its horses," Will said, his shocked tone questioning.

      "Yes, sire."

      The king had no time to ponder the miracle.

      "Alright, listen. By the looks of things, you've already been through a horrible ordeal tonight, but I assure you, if we stay out here any longer, the onslaught to come will be even worse. The Winged Creatures cannot see like we do, but they're picking up our scent as we speak."

      "Yes, my King. We could have never survived this long if not for our," Darvin exchanged a meaningful glance with his companion. Met with an approving nod, he turned back to William and continued: "Our passenger."

      "What are you talking about?" Will asked.

      For the first time, the second man spoke. "We are on a mission from your father."

      Just then, another Winged Creature shrieked and dove down. It retreated, but Jaret was on edge, disturbed by William's demeanor as he watched it fly away. "Will, we don't have any time!"

      Seeing the fear in Jaret's eyes, Will buried what had just been said. Only the danger was important. "The wagon that still has its horses. We need to move all of your survivors into it. My men and I will cover you from above, and clear your way on the road as best we can."

      "Thank you, my lord," the nameless man said.

      A demon's shriek close by caused no reaction from Will. At last, he found his tongue, saying, "Don't thank me yet, just get everyone into that wagon." Even as Will finished, he and Jaret were already moving away.

      "There's something strange about all of this," Jaret said as they sprinted back.

      "Yeah. That they're still alive for one," the king answered.

      Jaret nodded. "I don't like it, Will."

      They made it back to the first wagon to find Sky Knight Riller standing guard behind it, his eyes glimmering when he spotted his king coming back. Will couldn't blame him. It had to have been excruciatingly tense in their absence.

      "There's still one wagon with horses," Will said, scrambling up into the wagon and slapping Wess on the shoulder as he passed him. "We're gonna move these two into it, and then get the hell out of here."

      Riller was smiling, but said nothing. Then he pointed up to the sky.

      "By themselves," he said. "Just as I said, they're falling by themselves."

      From within the wagon, Will couldn't see what Wess was looking at as he helped the woman and her daughter to their feet. "You alright, Wess?" Jaret, who was standing beside the king in the wagon asked before Will could.

      "Yes. Yes, I'm ..." Riller wavered a bit, falling to one knee.

      Jaret and the king were on their feet, crouching under the low canvas ceiling, started out with the woman and her daughter. "Take them to the lead wagon," Will said to Jaret, who nodded. "I'll get him back to his ship."

      "You're gonna be fine, Wess. Can you fly?"

      Wess, looking down towards the ground, nodded. "Yes, Majesty."

      "Where are you hurt?" Will asked.

      "Left shoulder," he said, wincing. "Damn things have claws like razor bla-"

      His words were cut violently short. Two muscled gray legs extended down from the wagon's opening, their huge talons framed against the deep shadows of the night. They clamped into Riller's shoulders like an iron vice, ripping horrible wounds into each. There was no pain in the airman's eyes, only surprise. And then he was gone, with only a brief scuffle of his boots against the floor as he went.

      "No!" Will yelled, trying to rush out. "Wess, no!"

      "Will, wait!" Jaret yelled, struggling to pull him back from the edge of the wagon. "There could be more!"

      There was nothing to be done. Just like that, Wesley Riller was gone.

      A shadow appeared in plain view of the wagon, and Will's blade jutted out with lightning speed. It was only luck that the strike missed the mark, as it was Darvin Nash standing there.

      "Everything's ready, Highness," he said. "Please," he extended his hand to the woman and child and they ran to him. As they clutched him, Darvin made eye contact with the king. "My wife and daughter," he said, and without another word, ran off.

      "Time to go," Jaret said, leaping down from the wagon.

      "He had already been out on patrol," Will said, distantly. "He should never have been out here."

      "What?" Jaret screamed. He hadn't heard the king's words.

      Will leapt from the wagon, and the dash to their airships began. They ran with the feeling of ten thousand eyes upon them, with the vision of seeing their friend ripped out of this world. They ran with the rotten feeling of helplessness in their stomach. And to both men, the dash seemed mercifully short, as they reached their kingdom's salvation. And in that moment ... their own.

      Will jumped and clawed his way up over the nose of his airship, throwing his sword into the cockpit, and diving head first after it. Twisting around in the seat, it was as if someone else was in control as he jammed the emerald into place and fastened the straps around his shoulders. He could hear Thane and Stellan talking as they engaged the Winged Creatures, and turned to see Jaret lifting off.

      "Stellan, Grace! Redirect all efforts to protect that wagon! We're coming up!"

      "I see it, sire," Stellan Fox came back. "Man, they're moving!"

      "They're going after the refugees!" Thane Grace yelled.

      "Alright, alright, we understand," Stellan said, his own airship dropping down beside Thane's. "Just relax, and let's get as low as we can."

      The two airships went low, just as Jaret and Will began accelerating forward after their launch. As they did, Will looked down at the abandoned wagons, and his friend's abandoned airship. His eyes went forward, and he pushed to maximum power all at once, pinning himself back into his seat.

      On the ground, both Stellan Fox and Thane Grace led the way in front of the speeding wagon, ready to attack anything that might appear on the road. "I got four ... make that five, preparing to dive on you."

      The others' ships seemed pitifully slow as he followed their arc just before and beneath the new attackers. Would he lose them too? With a single turn of the wheel, his airship was in fast pursuit, right into the nexus of winged creatures.

      Jaret saw the king's move, calling, "Will, wait! Leave them to us!"

      Will reached down into the tight space between his seat and the right interior wall of the airship, twisting a device that looked like a corkscrew, and four massive blades slung outward. The cockpit shook as the king made his adjustments, and he charged. He could already hear the shrieks turning from anger to pain, the hunter becoming the hunted: Let it stay so!

      "Damn it, Will, I said wait!" Jaret yelled. He opened up his weapons as well, watching his best friend engage the winged demons. Limbs and leathery wings fell to the ground under Will's assault, but without Riller, there was no one to protect the speeding wagon's flank. Others, more clever but no less bloodthirsty, were gaining.

      "We're coming up on the Gate now," Stellan said, pausing a moment to turn and look behind him. "But we have more of them swarming in behind us."

      "I'll handle it!" Thane Grace's eager voice came over the sapphire.

      "No you won't!" Jaret yelled. "Check your twelve, Grace!"

      Another half dozen of the demons were coming in to cut the wagon off, and they were on Thane before he could react, clawing and scraping deep gouges into the cockpit. With a veteran's speed and intuition, Stellan Fox slid behind him, tilting his airship so that the blades dug into the attacking beasts. Amid horrid screeches, four of the maimed creatures crashed into the ground at breakneck speeds as the others retreated into the sky.

      "Great move, Fox!" Will screamed, pumping his fist with glee.

      "Will, look out!" Jaret's voiced berated him.

      The ship bucked as in the throes of an earthquake as the two demons crashed into his ship. The impact killed the beasts, but also stopped up his rear and aft turbines, leaving another damaged. Jaret knew he could not stop the demons closing in on the wagon and save his king.

      Will twisted the corkscrew lever again so that the powerful springs on the belly of the ship retracted the blades. He looked up just in time to see another pack of demons charging his wounded ship head on. They was close enough so that the king could finally look one in the pitch-black orbs that were its eyes. Strangely, he thought of the stone busts in the Corridor of Kings.

      "Bank left!" Jaret's voice said.

      Will adjusted the control wheel immediately, and an instant later, the extended blades on the Sky Lord's airship destroyed the demons threatening the King's life, running them through like a hot skewer.

      "You alright Thane?" Will asked.

      "The attack jammed my turbine axels, sire."

      "How many?"

      "All of them."

      The king felt as if a dagger had been driven into his heart.

      "Listen to me, Thane. You need to power down."

      Jaret's airship roared towards the rear of the wagon. It surprised him at first that it had not yet been overtaken, then he saw a few monsters drop to the ground without reason, crashing into the road and flipping end over end in the dust. But another dozen joined in the pursuit, and Jaret Brandon knew he could never make it in time.

      The wagon was lost.

      Thane's voice again:. "You cannot hold them."

      "Don't worry about that. Power down and land! We'll send someone for you!"

      "I'm sorry, your Highness. I have to do this while I'm still able."

      "This is an order from your king!" Will yelled, his voice breaking. "Land, now!"

      Stellan was well aware of Thane's intentions and he looked over into the Dragoon's cockpit. Thane Grace looked back, his confident expression strengthened by the look on Stellan Fox's face.

      "I would have made Sky Knight faster than you did," he said with a smile. "I would have been great." Stellan could barely speak. Swallowing hard and clearing his throat, he made a fist and pressed it up against his canopy.

      "You are great, kid," he said.

      Stellan watched the Dragoon's lips move as he spoke his last words.

      "See ya around."

      Thane Grace powered down and the wagon flew past in a blur, just barely missing his airship. Positioning himself between the horde of demons and their target, Thane directed the turbines toward each other. His airship spun like a top. The Winged Creatures flew right into it, most of them decimated in the maelstrom of razor sharp steel. Then the airship crashed into the ground, exploding. Some of the demons flew through the fire, their crackling carcasses crashing into the ground.

      Nothing could have survived.

      Will let out a yell of rage, punching his gloved fist into the side of his cockpit again and again until he was dimly aware of pain. General Lockhart's voice sprung across the sapphire.

      "King William, we have you in our sights. We're lowering the force field."

      Will did not answer.

      The incandescent shield flickered and dropped. Will and Jaret flew right through it, and from below, Stellan pulled back to fly up and join them. Moments later, the wagon blasted through the Main Gates, and the force field was back up.

     

***

      A salvo of fiery arrows flew up into the night, intercepting the Winged Creatures foolish enough to pursue within the shield just as the airships flew past overhead. Many of Lockhart's men were set about the task of burning demon remains where they had fallen, and beyond the ramparts on which the General stood, two horses skidded to a stop just within the main gate. The lone wagon stood idle.

      "Have them escorted back to the castle, Graydon," the King's voice said through the sapphire.

      "Yes, sire," the Chief General acknowledged, and the stone on his belt fell dormant, deactivated by Shamblin Vet as the mission ended. One of the young archers remained nearby, a member of the general's guard. "Why does he sound so defeated, General? Tonight appears to have been a victory."

      "Can't you count, boy? Two who left did not return."

      The boy appeared puzzled. "Casualties are a part of every war, are they not?"

      The General turned to face him. "The strength to know that is earned, son. A right of passage to leadership, and it's hell." Graydon paused a moment, exhaling deeply. "Absolute hell."

      There was commotion down below.

      Soldiers had reached the wagon. There was yelling. A few soldiers drew their swords. The General took a step closer to the edge of the parapet and looked down. "What's going on down there!" he bellowed.

      "A wizardess, sir! A wizardess spies within our walls!"

      Two members of the Sindell Guard were restraining the woman rather roughly, as they walked closer to the fortifications and up to present her to the General. "Hello, Graydon," she said, and though she didn't raise her voice, the General heard perfectly.

      His eyes widened and he pointed down to the guards. "Unhand her immediately!"

     

***

      Will walked through the hall, Jaret by his side, exactly as they had earlier, only different. Much, much different. Will's head was bloodied; a result of the near crash landing he endured at the cost of his crippled airship. Both men's uniforms were dirty and sweat stained.

      "What are you thinking, Will?" Jaret asked his King as they continued along the corridors towards the room where the wizardess and her entourage were waiting. The entire Council would be there as well, along with General Lockhart.

      "Nothing," the King said, and it seemed accurate.

      As the pair came to their destination, two guards opened the door, and the king never broke stride as he entered the large chamber beyond. A roaring fire blazed in a massive hearth under a portrait of King Tobin Bryce IV.

      The large assembly fell to a knee.

      "His Majesty, King William Bryce II," his herald announced, using the king's full name, as was custom in the presence of guests. He was confused. After being told of a wizardess passenger on the rescued wagon, Will expected she would be treated as an enemy by his men, and to have her fate in his hands. Instead, the Council seemed as eager and giddy as children.

      "My Lord!" Tharod Freen came over to him, hands spread wide. "What glorious news! What a glorious evening!"

      Will said as much as he felt. Nothing.

      Tharod motioned to the beautiful woman who was standing across the room. "Allow me the pleasure of introducing the Wizardess Jaden, a most welcome guest and ally to Sindell."

      Everyone else in the room seemed to know what was going on. Will saw glimpses of hope all around him, but he could not find the motivation to ask from whence it came. Instead, he looked to Jaden, staring into her violet eyes.

      "Jaden what?" he asked.

      A murmur of confusion rippled through the Council. The wizardess tilted her head, appearing to consider the impetuous young king more carefully. "Just Jaden," she said. "We don't have last names."

      "No?"

      "Not where I come from, no."

      "And where is that?"

      "Mistress Jaden is here in our greatest hour of need, Highness," Freen interrupted.  "She is our savior, I assure you!"  He had obviously been expecting to be included in this conversation, and now he forced himself into it.

      "Savior?" Will asked, raising his eyebrows. "It was your kind that got the world into this mess to begin with."

      Tharod blurted out an embarrassed laugh. "Sire, it is Jaden who is responsible for everything we've-"

      Will cut him off, raising his hand and shooting an annoyed look in his direction.

      "I knew your father," Jaden said simply.

      At this, Jaret looked over to General Lockhart who was standing beside him, expecting to exchange a confused expression. But Graydon Lockhart's face was steady, and he was vouching for the wizardess.

      "It's true, Will. To protect her, no one could know the truth. Not even you." The General soon found that he had not only attracted the undivided attention of the king, but the rest of the room as well. "Your father and Mistress Jaden forged a pact some years ago, as did your grandfather before him."

      "Only General Lockhart and myself were entrusted with this truth," added Freen.

      Will sighed, his line of sight drifting down to the floor. Lockhart revealed a royal writ in his right hand, but as he stepped forward to deliver it to his king, William gestured for him to wait.

      "So all of this," Will motioned around. "The airships. Our shield," his eyes rose to Jaden. "Is your doing?"

      "It is no one's doing. I had a part in showing your line how to harness certain ... energies by the use of precious stones."

      "So you wish to take credit for our survival, then?" he asked, his tone furthering the sour expression on Tharod Freen's face.

      The wizardess narrowed her eyes on him.

      "No," she said calmly. "Why? Do you wish to give it to me?"

      There was a drawn out pause before Will curved his lips into a half-smile.

      "You are not as alone as you think, William Bryce," she said. "Nor has this darkness yet consumed the world."

      "We've had no indications of that," the king said, his voice still ringing with skepticism. "Only a steady stream of refugees."

      "Although it's impossible to be sure," Jaret admitted suddenly. The king turned around, and as they made eye contact, it seemed as if the Sky Lord was addressing Will alone. "The emeralds lose their power less than 200 miles out."

      Will conceded the point with a bare nod.

      Encouraged by Jaret's contribution, Darvin Nash stepped forward, arms crossed. "The Republic of Veil'driel still survives, Highness. This evil has only just begun to spread there."

      The Council erupted in a whispering frenzy.

      Will took a deliberate step towards Darvin, silencing them as he spoke again.

      "Veil'driel still stands?"

      "She does, milord."

      "Why haven't we heard?"

      "Not all of us have airships, sire, and until recently we had been pinned within our own borders."

      "We have won a first victory against the enemy," the second man, still nameless, spoke up. "It allowed Jaden a window to reach us, and we were ordered to escort her here."

      "Took her word for it, did you?" Will said, finding his gaze drawn back to her.

      Jaden said nothing, only held up another royal writ. Presumably identical to the parchment General Lockhart possessed.

      "Hm," said Will. "You both wear the colors of an Outrider. Can I take that to mean the Order remains strong?"

      "You can, sire," the nameless man answered. "My name is Ferris Lang, and by the order of our master, Constable Fenlow Thean, we humbly pledge our service."

      Will did not tell them to rise, and after an uncomfortable delay, the Outriders did so on their own, finding the king staring into the fire. "What of the young girl and her mother?" he asked. "How are they?"

      "My wife and daughter," Darvin answered. "Both are sick with fright. Several of your Clerics are tending to them."

      "Then go to them," Will said, flames reflecting in his eyes.

      Darvin's shocked expression told the tale. This was most unexpected, but he wasted no time. "Thank you, sire," he said, and nearly stumbled as he pushed his way out of the room.

      "That is all for tonight," Will went on, so transfixed on the hearth that he seemed bonded to it. Only Jaden and the General understood.

      "Your Majesty!" Tharod Freen objected, looking all around as if expecting everyone would share in his disapproval. "There is much to discuss and no time to waste! This is a historical ... epochal moment!"

      Will's eyes now scanned the fire in search of something. "Then let the history books tell of how on their first night in Sindell, our guests' every need was met. That they bathed, ate and drank their fill," he looked away from the flames and immediately into Jaden's eyes. The exchange was intense. "And that they slept long and safe."

      "It will be done, sire," Tharod acknowledged. He knew well when to simply carry out the King's orders.

      After a moment, Will nodded to Jaden, and turned to leave. The action spurred all of the room's occupants to their knees. Before he could make it to the door, the General stepped to his side, wrapping his hand around the king's shoulder in robust grip.

      "Your father once told me, Highness, that a King only cries in the rain," he whispered. "Tonight, you have shown yourself to truly be his son." With a certain sense of pride, the General pushed the writ hard into Will's chest. Then he, too, fell to a knee.

      Jaden watched as Will passed through the open door and down the expansive hallway beyond. Past his fellow airmen, his friends, his subjects, all without so much as a nod to acknowledge them. They bowed low before him, on either side of his path. He was their Captain. Their greatest hope. Their king.

      And in more ways than one, their world would be different tomorrow.