Rachel Aaron - The Spirit War

For a moment the Empress’s army just stood there, staring at the blinding bird. And then, in unison, the invasion force turned and fled. The men on the beach threw themselves into the water, scrambling over each other to get their heads below the waves as Banage’s fire spirit swept over them. Everything the bird touched was consumed. Its heat was so intense it blackened the sand and boiled the surf. Those caught in its flames turned to ash in an instant while those who’d made it to the water began to scream as the bay itself became a scalding pot beneath the bird’s heat.

Out in the deep water, the landing boats rocked as the soldiers fought to turn them back to the crashed palace ships, but the ships’ men were pulling up the landing ramps in a desperate attempt to put anything they could between themselves and the fire. The men in the boats screamed curses, but their voices were drowned out by the roar of the bird as it flew low over the bay, sending the invaders leaping into the sea to avoid its fiery wings.

Josef stood on the wall, scarcely daring to believe his own eyes. Minutes ago he’d been prepared to die in Osera’s last stand; now he was watching from safety as the enemy fell over themselves in desperate retreat. He cast an almost sheepish glance at the Spiritualists. Miranda was on her feet again, holding out her hand as her water spirit returned, the cold blue tide vanishing into her palm. Banage was standing beside her with his fingers pressed against the enormous ruby glowing on his thumb, eyes following his bird beneath brows furrowed in concentration.

When every one of the infantry ships had been capsized, the bird turned and flew back to the storm wall. It grew smaller with every foot before finally vanishing into Banage’s ring with a puff of smoke. The Rector smoothed the stone with his fingers as the jewel’s glow faded.

“How high can Durn lift the bay line?” he said, voice calm and quiet, as though he were discussing a change in his schedule.

Miranda flexed her hand as the last traces of water vanished into her skin. “Three feet?” she said. “Maybe a little more.”

Banage nodded, moving his fingers from the ruby to a deep-green stone wrapped in delicate gold filigree on his thumb. “Three feet will be fine. Be ready on my mark.”

Miranda nodded and closed her eyes. A second later, the storm wall began to rattle under their feet. Josef cursed, but Banage didn’t even seem to notice. He was looking at the bay, eyes locked on the line of sunken ships.

“Steady,” he said, clutching his ring as the closing prow of the last palace ship locked into place. “Now.”

The heavy ring on Miranda’s thumb lit up with a green flare. Far in the distance, over the screams of the panicking soldiers and breaking waves, Josef heard the sound of stone grinding. He followed it and found himself staring at the line of sunken ships. That line was now churning, the sea bubbling like a boiling pot. Josef squinted, leaning out over the wall to see what was happening below the water. In the end, however, it was the sound that told the truth. The bay filled with the groaning of stone as the line of scuttled ships began to rise from the water. Josef stepped back in awe, eyes wide as he looked at Miranda to see her clutching the enormous green stone on her thumb with her eyes closed, her face furrowed in deep concentration as sweat ran down her cheeks. Banage, however, was cool and collected. He stood steady, watching the rising line of ships, his fingers hovering over the green ring on his own thumb.

The grinding rumble went on and on until, at last, Miranda gasped and stumbled, catching herself on Gin as the green light faded. The moment her ring flashed out, Banage stepped forward, holding up his hand as his ring flashed to life, glowing like a green sun on his finger as the grinding of the stone gave way to a great creaking moan of splitting wood. Josef turned back to the bay, but he saw nothing. The sunken fleet was well out of the water now, resting on a line of exposed seabed. Even the two grounded palace ships were several feet higher, their front halves pushed up like matrons with their noses in the air. But that was all Miranda so far as Josef could tell. Banage was obviously doing something as well, but whatever it was, Josef couldn’t see. He could hear it though, and he kept his eyes on the bay as the sound of splitting wood grew louder and louder.

Without warning, a wall of green erupted down the line of scuttled ships. It started at the edges where the bay met the cliffs, leaves exploding from the sunken runners as a line of oak trees sprouted from the raised seafloor. The trees spread across the bay like green fire, their canopies popping open like paper lanterns before Josef’s eyes until a wall of dense foliage cut the bay off from the sea.

But as the trees’ growth slowed, the sound of splitting wood grew louder than ever. Josef scowled, confused, and then a flash of motion pulled his eyes north, toward the first palace ship, and he gaped in disbelief. The grounded ship was moving, its enormous hull rising up as graceless as a bull on its hind legs. Soldiers slid off the decks as the front half of the ship’s hull rose out of the water, pushed up by an enormous tangle of tree roots. The same thing was happening to the second palace ship on the other side of the bay. The tree roots dug under the ships’ broad bottoms, forcing them up until their noses were in the sky. Finally, with one last, enormous crash, the two palace ships slid backward, off the roots, out of the bay, and into the ocean. They landed in the open sea with a crash, both ships slamming into the water and then sinking almost immediately as the ocean surged in through the shattered hulls.

But that was all Josef saw. The moment the palace ships were dislodged, the trees surged in. Huge oaks shot up like arrows to fill the gap, branches exploding from the trunks as the new canopies spread until the ocean was completely obscured behind a wall of solid green.

The men in the water, those who remained after Banage’s fire bird, swam frantically to the line of trees and began to climb, picking their way through the branches and throwing themselves into the ocean beyond in a desperate attempt to escape. Banage watched their struggles with a smile before turning to Miranda.

“Well done,” he said, helping her back to her feet. “I’m going to provide some cover. Lend me your mist?”

“Of course, Master Banage,” Miranda said, reaching to touch one of her smaller stones. It flashed blue the second her fingers passed it, and Josef smelled the clean, predawn wetness of a mountain valley as a thick mist filled the air. Meanwhile, Banage rubbed his fingers against a white stone set in a thin band on his wrist, and a second smell, salty and cold, joined the first as a thick sea fog rose up from the bay. Fog and mist rose together, intertwining and expanding until the bay vanished beneath a thick, gray blanket. But the fog wasn’t finished. It spread up the stairs, around the tower, and along the cliffs, spilling up the mountain toward the mainland. By the time Miranda and Banage finally stepped down from the sea wall, the entire island of Osera was shrouded in cloud.

“That should buy us a little time,” Miranda said, glancing at Josef before her eyes darted to something over his shoulder. Josef turned to see his soldiers standing on the storm wall behind him, staring in amazement at the two wizards who, in a little under five minutes, had completely reversed Osera’s fortunes.

“Not much time,” Banage said. “The fog gives us cover, but they don’t need to see to launch war spirits. Frankly, I’m surprised Osera isn’t knee-deep in them already. We need to speak with Queen Theresa immediately.” He turned to the gathered soldiers. “Who’s in charge here?”