Chapter 111: Grudge
“Hatred is such a fickle thing, isn’t it? It feels so powerful, but it is so utterly weak. Hatred can only exist when it is nurtured, when it is fed in an unbroken cycle. But all of its machinations, all of its attempts to last forever are so thoroughly undone by simple compassion.”
—High Sendekka of Malagailan Oris Ebelad in a speech regarding the Canonization of Alorum
“Don’t shoot!” Zaina said, raising her hands.
There was commotion throughout the defensive works. A familiar face popped out of a groove in one of the drillers—Ylasna.
This time, she recognized Zaina, too.
“Hey! I know her, she’s one of us! Sweet armor, where’d you get it?”
“Long story,” Zaina said. “Can I come over?”
“Sure! Way I see it, we need all the help we can get!”
Zaina breathed a sigh of relief. So far no one seemed to recognize the armor as that of a lancer—for now the ramifications could be put off. She approached one of the shovelers and climbed the machine. On the other side were a group of about thirty marked, each nervously holding scrapshots or birifles (and mostly holding them wrong); the others were spread throughout the defensive works, brandishing projectile weapons and fangs alike.
“Is Sivanya back?” Zaina asked.
Jyree, who Zaina recognized, shook his head, his expression grim. “We haven’t heard anything for a few minutes now. But the fire’s getting closer.”
Zaina turned back toward the forest—it was close to being completely burned away. Whatever little hope of Sivanya or the patrol team making it back alive was fading quickly.
“Were you able to save anyone?” Ylasna called down.
Zaina frowned. “No. I didn’t find anyone out there—the unmarked must have got them.”
“Alert! Movement!” another unmarked from the top shouted. Ylasna turned and focused her birifle on the forest.
“Movement! I see it!”
Zaina waited to hear what was happening. Commotion stirred—Sivanya’s name being thrown about.
Then, Tog’s voice came over every radio, “Move the damn drillers in the middle—open up! Quickly, they’re hurt!”
Zaina stepped back as the drivers hastily climbed into the two machines and turned them slightly, creating an opening wide enough for two people to walk through side-by-side. First came Rasmus, who was covered in bleeding holes—one of his legs had been blown off, so two others were supporting him. He collapsed to the ground once he was through and clear of the entrance. The two women supporting him dragged his unconscious body to a nearby tent.
Next came Sivanya, who was lending a helping shoulder to another injured member of the patrol group. Sivanya herself was relatively unscathed, but the warrior beside her was in bad shape; burns and bleeding shrapnel marks covered the left side of her body, and the only sound she uttered were frightened, pained moans, and occasionally asking for her mother.
Sivanya passed the wounded woman off to a group of marked, who promptly guided her off to the same tent Rasmus was taken to.
“Sivanya! Any more coming?” a marked man greeted her.
“No,” she replied, her voice heavy with grief. “Everyone else is dead. We have to get ready—they’ll be coming shortly after the fire burns out.”
Sivanya scanned the crowd until her eyes fell on Zaina—in a single moment her face changed from confused to shocked, and then to pure hatred.
“You,” she said, her voice dripping with enough malice to turn everyone’s heads toward Zaina.
Zaina took a step back. “I—”
“I knew you were lying to me,” Sivanya said, summoning her fang, “but I never imagined this. You, a lancer—sent here to destroy us. Isn’t that right? That’s what you’ve been playing at this whole time. Trying to gain my trust so you could slaughter my people.”
By now every other member of the enclave had parted, leaving an open path between Zaina and Sivanya. They were all staring at Zaina, their faces ranging from neutral to openly hostile. “No, that’s not true! I can explain—”
Sivanya pointed her fang at Zaina’s heart, her eyes glowing with malicious intent. “To your stations, everyone. I’ll handle this.”
No one budged, and Sivanya seemed to notice. She growled, “Go!”
This time the other marked listened, climbing back to their positions.
Zaina held her hands up and said, “I’m here to help. I’m on your side. It doesn’t have to be—”
Before she got the next word out, Sivanya surged forward and slashed at Zaina’s neck. She barely summoned her cipher in time to block the attack—their blades crossed with a sizzling hiss.
“Sivanya, lis—” Zaina was cut off by a fist striking her nose, knocking her backward. She stumbled but stayed on her feet, raising her cipher to stave off another attack.
Sivanya pressed into Zaina’s defenses, unleashing blow after blow; Zaina was barely able to keep up with the attacks, much less counter them. She was forced to cede ground, being pushed back by the speed and ferocity of her opponent’s assault. It was a losing battle, and she was losing it faster by the second.
Forced to keep her attention on Sivanya, Zaina back-stepped into one of the empty tents and tripped over a spare piece of equipment on the floor, falling backward against the canvas; the structure gave under her weight, collapsing all around her as the back of her head slammed against the earth below. She barely managed to block the next downward strike.
Sivanya’s words were laced with venom. “You know, I think you might be the weakest lancer I’ve ever encountered. All the better for me, I suppose—right, Zaina? If that’s even your real name.”
“It—is,” Zaina said, feeling all of Sivanya’s strength pressing against hers. She couldn’t hold out for much longer. “I’m—not—lying!”
“Well, Zaina, it doesn’t matter,” Sivanya replied. “Your side won. We’re going to lose—but so will you.”
She pressed further, and Zaina nearly gave—then she had an idea. She changed the angle of her block and threw Sivanya’s fang to the side, taking her balance; then Zaina whipped her cipher around, stabbing it through Sivanya’s prosthetic leg. With a twist and a yank, the prosthetic leg shattered. Sivanya gave a surprised shout and collapsed to one knee.
Zaina took the opportunity to scramble to her feet and put some distance between them. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”
Sivanya roared. “Why, you little—gah!”
Zaina ran twenty feet before realizing how much ground they’d covered—she was at the bottom of the scaffolding lining the cliff. She frowned and looked back—Sivanya was crawling toward her, grunting and growling the whole way.
Looks like I’m going up.
The lowest platform, made of wood, was about twelve feet off the ground, supported haphazardly by a few rusty poles, some rope, and a few planks; nestled beneath it was one of the heavy mining suits, resting in the shade. From there Zaina figured she’d be safe, so she climbed to the top.
“Sivanya, please, listen! I’m not here to hurt any of you, I’m here to help!”
“Liar!” Sivanya spat. “You think I’m going to believe you now, after you’ve lied to me from the moment I met you?”
“No! That’s not true! I’m here to hel—”
“No you’re not! You’re a lancer! Don’t you dare try to still pretend you’re on our side after all you’ve done!”
Zaina took a deep breath, trying to think of how to reach Sivanya—they needed to focus on the true enemies, the unmarked army, if the enclave had any chance of surviving.
In the meantime Sivanya crawled out of sight below. Then, Zaina heard the whirring and clicking of a machine humming to life. She recognized her mistake too late.
Uh-oh. That’s not good.
A massive metal fist punched through the wooden platform only two feet from Zaina—the structure crumpled, but she grabbed a net that had been fastened against the wall and started to climb. She looked back down—Sivanya, now operating the mining suit, was furiously ascending the half-broken structure. Her fang, still in her hand, had sliced clean through one of the suit’s hands. Sivanya took a swipe at Zaina, her fang glancing off her armored boot.
Oh, shit. That’s really not good.
Zaina redoubled her efforts to gain height quickly, scrambling to the top of a metal walkway and jumping to the next level, which was a platform of thick glass. Here she stopped—Sivanya was about twenty feet below. Zaina glanced upward at the scaffolding, of which there was still plenty left. She pulled out her particle hook-gun and sent the tracking tip up to higher ground.
But the higher we go, the less chance of it supporting her weight. To be honest, I’m surprised she’s made it this far. And if she takes down too much of the bottom—
A ferocious roar broke her concentration—Sivanya was climbing a wide ladder made of polysynth to reach Zaina’s platform. It bent but held her weight, and the glass cracked but also held as she climbed atop it.
“Sivanya, please,” she said, dissipating her cipher. “You have to believe me—I’m here to help.”
“Help?!” Sivanya said with a sneer. “Help! You certainly have, Zaina! You’ve helped the enemy to our doorstep! And now what? You want to plunge your cipher into my back the moment I turn it to you?”
Before Zaina could respond, Sivanya charged forward with surprising speed. The glass barely held, and Zaina, not expecting such a sudden rush, was a moment too late. Before she pulled the trigger on her hook-gun, the mining mech struck her with a full-body tackle. It wrapped its arms around her as they crashed through a rotting wooden platform and landed with an ear-splitting bang on a tilted, semi-circular platform made of durable metal. It supported their combined weight, much to Zaina’s surprise.
Zaina’s head was ringing—had it struck the platform they’d landed on? She wasn’t sure, but she was conscious enough to see the massive metal fist descending toward her. Zaina grabbed her cipher with both hands and swung at it, deflecting it away from the cliff—Sivanya’s momentum carried her over the edge of the platform, and she tumbled about eight feet to a similar platform below, landing with a metallic clamor and a pained growl.
There was no time to waste—Zaina started climbing again. Ladders, ropes, nets, bars, whatever she could get her hands on, she did. She didn’t need to look down to know Sivanya was already up and following her—she gathered that from the relentless grunts and roars coming from below.
Instead, her eyes fell toward the forest—the fire had gone out after burning the woods to cinder. There, on the horizon, was movement, like so many tiny insects weaving between toy tanks. The unmarked army was here, and their numbers were unlike anything Zaina had ever seen.