I GUESS I’M A WARRIOR NOW
I always imagined battlefields as gloomy, barren shores stripped of joy and life. The dark images I conjured while doing online history lessons were probably inspired by tragically artistic movies. In truth, nature didn’t change its patterns for something as trivial as a battle. Oceans rolled sparkling waves into white sands with perfect regularity. The sun still shone, and the breeze still blew—even on the days giant sea serpents slithered out of emerald waves with the singular purpose of killing you.
Which resulted in the sad fact that I had no time to enjoy the spectacular scenery of Fourth Earth. No designer sunglasses or cute bikinis for me. Only flexible, mesh armor and magical weaponry. No soaking in some rays and pretending to be a normal teenager. I fought for my life and the lives of the whole universe.
The sea monster carved a serpentine trail in the sand, barreling at me. I triggered the clockwork mechanism in my thick bracer, and the curved, silver metal of my crossbow sprang into place. On the taut, steel cord, I formed a shaft of solid light from my somewhat depleted ocean of magic. The serpent roared, and I shot the shaft through its soft palette—right into its brain.
I never missed. My magical gift of truth gave me perfect aim. The serpent’s eyes widened in a brief flare of pain, then the spark of life winked out. The muddy-green serpent fell. Its mouth hung slack, and its fangs stabbed into the sand inches from my boots. Its lidless eyes froze in the blank, glazed stare of a dead fish.
No more monsters rose in the waves behind it, so I sunk onto the sand too. I splayed out on my back to catch my breath.
“Agnes,” I heard near my ear.
It was Temnon—prince of First Earth and my totally awesome boyfriend. Golden magic carried his voice telepathically to my helmet. My hot, stuffy helmet.
I pushed it away from my head, and a cool breeze blew a strand of my white hair into my eyes. It had grown long enough that I needed a haircut. Unless things changed, I’d have to cut it myself with a knife or something.
“Agnes, you there?”
I took a deep breath and sighed out, “Yes. Sorry, Tem. Tired.”
“Report?”
I let gravity turn my head to the right. Fine sand coated my scarred face, but I didn’t care. No enemies to the west. On my left, Lumi’s snow leopard fangs chomped a claw off an oversized lobster. My sciftan friend didn’t like getting her fur ruffled, so she shifted into her huge stone cat form and swiped her claws deep into the lobster’s carapace shell.
Lumi didn’t get much of a childhood hanging out with me, but she had achieved some advanced and somewhat scary feline forms. Shifting to an upgraded helcat and walking stone statue was unheard of for a sciftan kitten barely over a year old.
With the lobster dead, Lumi dragged her feet over to me and shrank into a gray-and-white-striped housecat.
“Done,” she reported to me.
I scratched her ears and passed the news to Temnon. “No more enemies. Beach is empty.”
Wait. Why was the beach empty? Our enemies were dead, but where were all our troops?
“Where is everyone?” I asked Temnon.
Before Temnon answered, a distant group of soldiers dressed in the same gray armor as me disappeared in a flash of blue light. They transported to a new location.
I frowned. “Please tell me everyone is transporting to Rein’s palace for some food and a week of sleep.”
“Rein’s palace, yes,” Temnon said, “but not for food or sleep. Rein’s aquatic spies say Suelta is heading to the Lorelai Atoll.”
Crap. Attacking every settlement along the coast wasn’t enough for her? Now she attacked the sirens’ stronghold? Her own clan’s home territory? She had never made a move this bold.
I knew she was determined to kill her son, Temnon’s childhood friend Rein. I barely saved Rein’s life the last time I saw her in person. Suelta’s sanity cracked beyond repair when she stabbed her loving, human husband in the heart and attempted to murder Rein in a pathetic effort to retain control. At least her sister sirens finally saw her for what she was, a despotic witch. They booted her and voted Rein in as their new leader. They served him with loyalty and pride, and I’d grown to respect each of them. Now they were being attacked by their former queen. I had to help no matter how tired I was.
A jolt of neuropathy pain stabbed in my thigh, and my leg jumped. I patted the spasming muscle and wished for the jillionth time the damaged nerves could be healed. I wasn’t that lucky.
I dragged myself to my feet. “Coming now, Tem,” I said into my dangling helmet.
“See you soon. Careful on re-entry.”
Lumi yowled and flopped onto her side. “Don’t make me transport again so soon. I’m still nauseous from last time.” Her tail twitched with irritation, and she scratched her claws through the sand. “Stupid Fourth Earth and its stupid, thick atmosphere. Can’t we just fly?”
Poor Lumi. She might be an able warrior, but no matter what feline form she took, she was still a cat and way overdue for a catnap.
I grabbed my helmet and brushed the sand from my lacey scars. I let some truth magic radiate from me to soothe my exhausted friend. My light reflected off her white stripes, and the warmth in my face soothed me as well.
Lumi knew flying took too long. She knew the battle would be over before we got there. She also knew just as well as I did that Suelta took full advantage of our disadvantage.
“Ready, Lumi?”
Still growling deep in her throat, she stood.
I focused hard on Rein’s palace. I’d been there before so that made it a little easier. I let my magic travel eastward. The ring of islands lay far from the mainland in the green waters of the Praedis Ocean that covered Fourth Earth’s temperate north pole. I released my transportation spell, and my vision blurred. The sea serpent’s carcass melted into watered down lines and patches of green. My skull groaned under the vice-like weight of Fourth Earth’s atmosphere. Nausea squeezed my stomach, and I dry heaved into the space between places.
Gray swirls surrounded me as I felt my body settle over my feet and materialize. Dizzy, disoriented, and massively nauseous, I lifted my arm out of habit and triggered my crossbow. No enemies charged me. My latest battlefield seemed to be a landscape made of gray blurs. A drop of blue transportation light blended into the mist swirling around my arm before I finally understood.
My vision wasn’t going to clear. I stood in a bank of fog. The heaviest I’d ever seen. It trembled with silence and fear.
Huh. This was different.
“Lumi?” I whispered.
The sad, guttural cough of a cat hacking up a hairball drifted up from my feet. Where were Temnon and the troops? Of all my battles on Fourth Earth over the last months, none were quiet. My shoulders tightened and fight or flight crept in, urgently pushing out my better judgement.
Sand crunched beneath armored boots as two figures outlined by the heavy fog hurried near me with urgent, unsure steps. I barely saw the ground beneath the transportation safety platform. For all I knew, I stood over an empty pit, or a trap. I jabbed one boot into relatively solid sand before jumping off the platform and pointing my crossbow at the approaching figures. Lumi sniffed the air and sneezed.
“Over here, General,” she growled quietly.
Oops. I swallowed down my fear. No use getting worked up over an ally.
The crunching boots corrected their direction until I made out the shrewd face of General Chattaway. She led the troops sent by Temnon’s uncle, Odric Odonata, high king of First Earth. Normally effective and efficient in war, Chattaway and the soldiers from First Earth suffered from transportation sickness just like me. It’s hard to fight when you’re afraid to vomit because you can’t tell which way is down.
General Chattaway’s damp salt-and-pepper hair hung heavy in her face as she examined the nicked blade of her elemental sword.
“Any magic left?” she asked me.
Only a faint shimmer of golden magic coated the steel blade. As a truth wizard, I could see magic. Every other living being saw only the effect of a spell, not the magic that fueled it. The general had about three hits before the fire enchantment on her sword wore out.
“Enchantment’s nearly faded,” I told her, “and the steel blade needs sharpening.”
“Fulcrum above,” she whispered to me. “We aren’t ready for this attack, Arch Mage.”
“What else is new?” I asked, my sarcasm stoked by exhaustion.
“Fair point.”
Chattaway cast an experienced eye over the fog. I followed her gaze and made out the blurred shadows of our regiment moving like ghosts in the wet mist.
She sheathed her sword and said, “Suelta’s random jabs come too fast to get help from allied planets. Our soldiers are sick from transporting through this blasted atmosphere. Without more effective travel and local weapons and food, we’re finished.” She turned behind her. “Coralis, any ideas?”
From the fog emerged the siren Coralis. Rein’s second-in-command smoothed her floating, green hair into a long ponytail. With a few quick twists, she tied it into a knot to keep it out of her face. A native of this planet, she wasn’t affected by transporting through the thick atmosphere. The locals had a different problem. Their magic was disappearing.
Her beautiful, young face showed a pattern of blue scales near her temples—a sign of her failing reality. Siren song changed reality, and since the base form of a siren was a hideous type of mermaid, sirens used their song to create an appealing physical form. Generally, they preferred gorgeous women with blue skin and floating, green hair. Without adequate magic, her base form leaked through her altered reality.
Coralis answered the general’s question thoughtfully, “Our king, er, chief—as he now prefers to be called—has trade agreements with the tomte. We’ve put in orders for food and ore, but the tomte haven’t responded with their usual dependability.”
“What’s the problem?” Chattaway asked. “We’re barely holding out here.”
“The tomte fight amongst themselves,” Coralis spat with disgust.
“Holy cuss,” I grumbled. “How am I supposed to unite the tribes of Fourth Earth when a single species can’t get along?”
I cut off my reaction before it grew into a rant. Rants were unprofessional, but my anger grew inside me. After months of trying, we couldn’t even get the land tribes together to defend against the immediate threat of Suelta and her sea clans. I bit my lip. Suelta was nothing more than a hindrance. A distraction. With my team and I engaged in these stupid skirmishes, we couldn’t focus on the big picture.
The Overlord of Demonkind, superpowered genie, and all-around jerkface, Sharir.
According to the Seer’s prophecy, I had to accomplish four tasks before achieving the possibility of defeating the powerful genie. With help, I somehow managed to accomplish two of the four tasks specified by the Seer’s prophecy. On First Earth, I prevented the illusionist Vi Lorina from invading the Jent Path with a demon army, which satisfied the first task. Nobody could figure out the vague symbolism of the second task, so we skipped it and moved on. The third task involved preventing Regent Menneth’s death and stopping Pyranathos from taking over Third Earth with a ring of dragon radicals. I’d been working on the fourth task for ages, but uniting the warring clans of Fourth Earth was near impossible.
Stupid Sharir. I was losing faith in the Seer’s prophecy. Maybe the Seer had been right so far, but uniting the tribes of Fourth Earth? Even with the prodigious efforts of King Odric and other planets, the citizens of Fourth Earth refused our best diplomats and stubbornly clung to their own immediate interests. The universe was doomed.
Lumi growled in irritation. “Tomte. Selfish, shortsighted, little toe-lickers. Maybe I’ll go eat a few. I’m hungry enough to eat the next thing that moves.”
My stomach grumbled in total agreement. How long had it been since Ms. Chippy heaped food on a plate and told me I was too skinny? Chattaway smirked at me when my gurgling stomach rudely interrupted our discussion.
“Wow. That was really loud,” I said, embarrassed.
“It’s the mist,” Chattaway explained. “Sound travels faster and farther through water than air. It makes it hard to judge the enemy’s position. Suelta probably drummed up the weather with her siren song to confuse us.”
“Yes, Madam General,” agreed Coralis. “This mist is without question our former queen altering reality.”
Chattaway didn’t bother asking me about the weather because I couldn’t see siren magic. They didn’t use magic—they were magic. Their song changed reality. Pretty cool, but I wondered about the current magic shortage. How would it affect the sirens physically? If they were magic, would they regress until they reached their base form? But their base form was also magic. So, would they just keep deteriorating until they vanished? That would suck.
A stream of golden magic lit General Chattaway’s military insignia with an official communication.
“General,” a voice said. “Unit Beta has arrived from First Earth.” Retching and coughing caused the voice to say no more.
“Don’t you even think of vomiting, Lieutenant,” Chattaway hissed. “We don’t have any food to replace what you throw up.”
“We brought some from—”
More retching sounds. Food was pointless when you couldn’t keep it down. Irritated, Chattaway yanked her scabbard straps tighter. I wasn’t the only one who’d lost weight. She turned from us to address her unfortunate subordinate.
Coralis unsheathed her weapon, a staff bearing hooked blades at both ends. It wavered insubstantially in the dim light. She sang to it, her soft siren song haunting, intense, and full of mystical power. Gradually, the staff solidified. She twirled it and stabbed one end deep into the beach.
“Coralis,” I said, trying to peer through the fog, “doesn’t it take a lot of magic to alter the weather?”
“It does.”
“Then how...?” I asked.
Coralis breathed heavily. Her confused sigh mixed into the swirling mist. “Our power is waning, while Suelta grows stronger. If we knew why, Miss Agnes, perhaps we sirens would be a help to your cause rather than a burden.”
From the mist, a rustle reached my ears. Instinct dropped me into a fighting stance, and I jabbed my crossbow to the right. Coralis pointed her weapon to the left. Full of adrenaline-fueled fear, I waited for an attack.
Lumi sniffed the air. “Nothing there.”
Coralis and I were both wrong. Neither of us pinpointed where the rustle originated.
“I prefer enemies I can see,” I said.
“Indeed,” Coralis agreed. “This fog is unnerving.”
That was one word for it. Stressful was another. I thought of a bunch more words, including a slew of very inappropriate street slang I learned from YouTube videos.
Chattaway returned and walked right into Coralis’s drawn weapon. The siren pulled it away just as the blade connected with Chattaway’s armor.
“What the—” Chattaway grabbed the hilt of her sword, then stopped, staring in surprise at Coralis.
“Are you injured?” Coralis asked, horrified by the mistake.
“Blasted fog. I didn’t see you.” Chattaway inspected her armor. “No damage, which means your blade is dull.”
“I can’t sing it into full reality.” Coralis hung her head in shame.
“It was real before,” Chattaway said. “Once reality is changed, doesn’t it stay that way?”
“Normally, but not anymore.” The siren clenched her hands on the staff. “Now our completed spells lose coherency after time. Even the palace sung into reality by Chief Rein wavers.”
Lumi huffed. “The sirens were our best hope of holding back Suelta. Without them, the land tribes lose the advantage. Think she planned it this way?”
“I don’t see how,” I said.
Honestly, I already wondered if Suelta’s insanely effective strategies were beyond her abilities. Months ago, I asked my gift of truth if she acted on Sharir’s orders. He was more than capable of plotting wars. However, I felt no clear answer. Trust the Master of Time and Space to avoid alerting my truth. If he was involved, that is.
A strange, high-pitched call carried by the mist made Lumi spring to her feet, growling.
Startled by the call and Lumi’s reaction, we all raised our weapons. No enemies burst from the fog. I breathed deeply and forced my stress to melt into the sand. Letting myself get carried away by fear only sapped what strength I had and made it harder to survive.
Lumi spun around, nose sniffing, and said, “Here, Tem.”
From the mist, Prince Temnon of First Earth emerged. The heavy fog matched the grayness of his face. He hadn’t been himself since his grandfather’s death. Temnon stood next to me and linked his fingers with mine. My heart relaxed.
“I found you, glowbug,” he whispered to me. “Better turn off your light.”
I still radiated light to soothe Lumi. Oops. I didn’t need my glowing scars leading the enemy right to me.
Temnon turned to Chattaway and reported, “The defensive line around Rein’s palace is set, but it won’t hold for long.”
“Where’s Grimmal?” I asked.
Lumi’s father, Grimmal, often took off when he felt like it, but never during a battle. He kept Temnon safe the same way Lumi protected me.
“He’s backing the sirens at the palace’s east gate,” Temnon said. “All the gates are covered, but if Suelta attacks before we get more support, we’ll lose the palace and the whole Lorelei Atoll.”
Terrible news.
Coralis paled, but her black eyes remained fierce. “It’s only a ring of islands.”
The lie triggered my gift of truth, and a slight jitter raced up my spine. The atoll was more than a ring of islands. It was the sacred home of the siren clan since the dawn of their existence and critical to our military defense. It sat on the edge of an undersea cliff that kept the worst of Fourth Earth’s krackens in the deep oceans and away from the shallower waters bordering the land tribes. Losing it would be devastating.
Chattaway cursed. “Suelta has more military chops than I gave her credit for. We trounced her so soundly in the initial battles, but this quick-attack strategy of hers is more of a slow-bleed siege than a typical war. I didn’t anticipate the long-term effects.”
“No one did,” Temnon said dryly. “Rein says he’ll fight to the last siren, but even his magic is strained.”
No magic, no supplies, no local support, and worn-out, nauseous soldiers. Yeah, we were screwed.
“Arch Mage?” Chattaway turned to me. “Any more of those exploding science eggs?”
I told her before they were called grenades. I reminded myself once again that my planet, Second Earth, had been cut off from the other worlds for thousands of years. Our everyday inventions were beyond foreign to them.
I dug into the canvas bag Kymm and Colucci gave me last time I was in DC. Trying to help me fulfill the prophecy, they stuffed the bag to the brim months ago, but it now hung limp and deflated at my side. I felt around the bottom of the bag, pushed aside the smooth silver rattle, and retrieved one of my last few grenades.
“Only four left.” I handed it to Chattaway. “After today, unless I can go home and resupply, I’m officially out of science eggs, flashing bursts, and crying smoke. Even my trusty taser is dead.”
“This will have to do.” Chattaway latched the grenade to her scabbard strap and turned away to receive another telepathic report. “Get those barricades up, soldier. You can pass out on your own time.”
My stomach grumbled again. Temnon squeezed my fingers and spoke to Coralis.
“Rein is asking for the arch mage. I’ll deliver her to the palace, then return to support you. Suelta is using the mist to cover her approach. She may attack here and try to flank the palace.”
“As you say.” Coralis stuck her staff in the sand and strapped on her helmet.
Temnon pulled me inland, his sword out and ready for attack. Lumi stalked warily behind us. Soon the crunch of the sand faded, and solid rock supported my armored boots. Temnon bent and scooped up a loose stone.
“My dad sent new supplies,” he said to me, examining the rock. “Not that anyone can eat with their stomachs heaving. How are you holding up?”
I gave him a half-smile. “Well enough. I’m more worried about the regiments. I’m used to being sick and weak, but they aren’t.”
“No one should have to fight in these conditions.”
He set the rock on the nicked edge of his sword, and his golden matter shaping magic sluggishly trickled across the smooth surface. He meant to shift the stone’s matter into steel and repair his sword, but the rock bent and flattened, then sprang back into its original shape. What the heck? Sweat burst out on Temnon’s forehead, and he stopped walking. With increased focus, his magic forced the elements of the stone to shape into steel and reinforce his weapon.
Panting slightly, he reached into a pouch near his scabbard and pulled out some wilted, pale-green leaves.
“Lanorian mint, from my mom.” He gave me half of the leaves and wiped sweat from his brow. “It’s bitter but full of nutrients and good for transportation sickness.”
I was too startled by Temnon’s sluggish magic to take the leaves at first.
“Thanks,” I said.
He didn’t meet my gaze but chewed slowly and stared straight ahead. This wasn’t the first time I saw him struggle to shape matter. I almost asked him about it but decided not to push the issue. He had enough on his mind right now.
“Want some, Lumi?” I held out a few mint leaves.
“Sciftans do not eat green,” she huffed, insulted.
I wiggled a leaf, trying to make it look like a mouse. “Not even if it’s moving?”
“Not even if it begged for its life.”
I flicked my wrist and tossed the leaf past her face. Her hunger-fueled hunter’s instinct took over, and she clamped her fangs on it before thinking.
I chuckled softly as she gagged on her first vegetarian meal.
“You tricked me,” she complained, swallowing more than she managed to spit out.
“It’s good for you. Even mighty sciftan hunters get transportation sickness.”
Lumi didn’t answer but froze, head down, ears intently listening. The water-saturated fog carried an eerie whisper to us.
“Tem.” I grabbed his wrist.
He followed my gaze and saw Lumi crouching, muscles bunched. He lifted his sword and cursed. “What is that sound?”
“I don’t know,” I whispered. “Suelta’s sea creatures sneaking up on us?”
Temnon swung his blade behind him. “In this fog they could be three feet in front of us, and we’d never see them. If they’re here, we aren’t ready. Urcha’s south flank isn’t set yet.”
“And half of Chattaway’s troops are still vomiting,” I added.
Lumi’s silver eyes narrowed. “Suelta won’t wait. Her sea monsters will swim up and eat us before we’re ready. I’d take that advantage if I had it.”
“Lumi.” Temnon took off in a wary run toward the center of the island. “Can you hear where they are?”
Lumi slipped between my legs and grew big enough to carry me. “The mist is throwing the sound,” she replied. “I can’t trust my own senses.”
Temnon acknowledged her with a grunt and hurried over the rocks, absorbing the impact of his boots to minimize the noise. Lumi stalked uphill, making me lean forward. Thick walls of stone, iron, and jade found their shape behind the mist—the palace of the siren clan.
Suelta’s former palace had rested far below the ocean in the wall of the cliff, hidden from the rest of Fourth Earth. When Rein took over, he used his siren magic to sing a new palace into existence. A tall, stately structure that blended with the green ocean and the natural rock of the Lorelai Atoll, placed where all the tribes of Fourth Earth could see it. It was his way of trying to change the negative reputation of the siren clan and be more involved with politics.
We approached the gate guarded by several siren women. Though young and beautiful, I saw hints of their hideous base form leaking through their waning reality magic. They pointed their fading weapons at us.
“Arms down,” Temnon said. “We’re on your side.”
The sirens stood down from their aggressive postures, and one with stringy hair fiddled with the heavy gate.
Beneath my legs, Lumi bent her legs and spread her paws, ready to spring in any direction. Her tail switched and her ears swiveled. A threatening hiss escaped her lungs.
“Arms back up,” Lumi told the siren soldiers. “I hear the enemy. I think. And why does it smell like garbage?”
Crossbow cocked, I waited for an attack. With the fog so thick, I saw nothing. Within the silence, the soft rustling of a million leaves filled the air. No splashing? No roars of sea serpents or slap of fleshy tentacles? No poison barbs or toxic jellyfish flung from slingshots? What kind of battle was this?
The nearest siren gripped her fading spear and snarled, revealing pointed teeth. “I do not recognize this sound.”
With nervous hands clutching our weapons, we stared into the mist. Practically blinded by the gray swirls, my hearing upgraded to hyper-awareness. The rustle grew louder. A ring of metal on metal clanged through the mist. A single, sinister cackle bounced from every direction.
The creeping fear I’d been able to control up until now shuddered in my lungs. “Was that Suelta?” I asked the siren.
Her black, liquid eyes widened. “I cannot be certain,” she said. “I think not, but—”
A loud yell of panic and pain cried out behind me. It seemed to rise, and the fearful yell ricocheted against the jade walls of Rein’s palace, surrounding us in the moment of terror.
“Help me!” the cry implored. “No! Noooo!”
It ended with a sandy whump. What in high holy Hannah did Suelta throw at us?
I heard someone’s boots running on stone inside the gate, and the siren hauled it open. Rein’s green-tinted, black hair and olive skin appeared from the mist inside the courtyard.
“Take cover!” he bellowed at us and beyond. “Quickly! Get out of the open!”
Two more screams sounded. Rein dashed past us toward the beach, an elemental sword of hardened water held aloft. Temnon’s blue eyes scanned for attackers, and Lumi growled in frustration. My hand flew out, but once again, I had nothing to target.
Rein vanished into the mist, shouting toward the beach. “Weapons up! Point them up!”
Temnon repeated the instructions into his military insignia, relaying the order to all the First Earth troops. Alarmed shouts broke out all over the beach, interrupted by panicked yells rising into the air. The sirens lifted their spears to the sky, but a hair too late.
A pair of talons snatched me from Lumi’s back and the next scream I heard rising into the air was my own.
