The Lycan Rebirth (The Flux Age Book 3) Page 8

  “Wrong. We know that, and it’s time humans knew that too. Let me tell you something. As you know, I’m a student of statistics. For instance, did you know that in the coming ten years, I predict that only thirty per cent of all humans will find their spirit beasts? Wanna know what happens to the rest?”

  Reverent silence filled the Kin Hollow.

  “Over eighty per cent of them will die!”

  Gustav peered over the edge of the rock. His arachnid face quivered with passion.

  “Unless,” he said in a quieter voice. “Unless. Such a hopeful word, isn’t it?”

  Gustav began pacing up and down his platform. Florence was mesmerized by the oratory. He was truly a master of the art and a charismatic leader.

  “Unless humans can be protected by those with the power to offer it,” Gustav said. “The arachne have a choice. I say we choose life.”

  Ripples of strong agreement passed round the hollow.

  “Did you hear me?” Gustav roared. “I say we choose life!”

  A boom erupted all around Florence. The thunderous sound was created by thousands of spider legs stamping the ground. Then a hissing sound that pierced Florence’s heart and almost made her lose her nerve.

  “Lycans,” Gustav managed to say above the hubbub. “We stand alongside you now, and as long as it takes to see you restored to your former glory.”

  Florence made eye contact with Gustav, tears in her eyes. Her gratitude must’ve been obvious, because he simply nodded and smiled.

  The next two hours were spent in long consultation with Gustav’s war council. Seven spiders including the arachne leader sat before Florence in a semi-circle. Each one seemed to be a different sub-species.

  A shrill cry pierced the gloom. It had come from far above the canopy.

  “Eagle war cry,” an old, pockmarked spider muttered. “Those birds are stupid but will find us eventually.”

  Some of the spiders laughed appreciatively.

  “How you wanna play this, Gustav?” asked another. “We can deploy our troops at short notice.”

  “This could go down to the wire,” Gustav warned with a frown. “Florence tells me the aquila are well armed and well resourced. There could be hundreds of eagles out there.”

  “They might try and smoke you out,” Florence said. “Their best chance is to get you out in the open.”

  “I wish them luck with that,” Gustav said with a chuckle. “The canopy is strong from here to the ocean to the south.”

  “Then a direct attack is all they have,” Florence pointed out. “The sooner, the better, giving you less chance to organize.”

  Another eagle cry, closer now.

  “They’ve found us,” Gustav said. “Mabior, have your kin line up on the northern platform.”

  A bulbous spider with an electric blue streak on its back scuttled away.

  “Oleg, position the orbs in a wide circle in front of the north platform,” Gustav said.

  A giant spider with long legs left the same way Mabior had.

  A fizzing, roaring sound rose from the rank jungle a half click to the north.

  “Fire bombs,” Gustav said softly. “It has begun.”

  Florence looked at the arachne leader with wide eyes.

  “Put me in your vanguard,” she said fiercely. “I have a score to settle with these fucking eagles.”

  “You will take your trainees and your grounded eagle and wait down the bottom,” Gustav said firmly. “Remember, the aquila are after you. It makes sense to have them pass through hell to get to you.”

  Florence nodded reluctantly - she wanted desperately to fight, but the plan made sense. What she couldn’t work out was how the arachne planned to draw the aquila into the hollow.

  Finding Julian and the others, Florence took them all back down to the coolness of the hollow bottom. Spiders scuttled chaotically on the winding paths above them, their legs chittering in unison. It made for an unsettling effect, but Florence could imagine what it would sound like to an enemy.

  “Ready for action,” she said to her party.

  “How are the spiders hoping to get us involved?” Wilson asked incredulously.

  “Take a leap of faith,” Florence suggested, watching the canopy nervously. She looked over at Emmaline, who was wide-eyed and determined. “Stay low,” Florence told her. “Call out to me if you’re attacked.”

  Emmaline nodded. If anything, she looked more confident than Julian. The cries of eagles pierced the canopy at regular intervals. Florence swallowed nervously - it was like they were right on top of them.

  “Ready!” the spider named Mabior yelled from somewhere above them. “Fire!”

  Florence watched in amazement as gobs of liquid shot high in the air and dissolved entire sections of jungle canopy. The substance could only have been corrosive venom judging from the way it ate through the foliage. The barrage had come from the stone platform around thirty yards above them. That was where the electric blue spiders had been positioned.

  The sky was now visible through the gaps in the canopy. The spiders had timed their first volley perfectly as the eagles had swooped low. They now hovered over the damaged canopy, many of them holding machine guns.

  “Fire!” screamed the great orb spider Oleg. The long-legged orb spiders suspended in cable-like webs shot long tendrils of silk from their lower abdomens. The silk spears whistled through the holes created by the corrosion spiders. Several aquilan warriors cried in shock as they were wrapped in the tight, sticky substance and bought crashing to earth. Many of them crashed through the canopy and hit branches and rocks on their way to the bottom of the hollow. Three broken, crumpled bodies fell close to Florence’s party. Before she could do anything, a clutch of black spiders rushed from the undergrowth and prised the fallen eagles’ wings from their bodies using long fangs. The aquilans writhed for a few seconds before dying in agony.

  Florence looked at Julian, whose face had gone white. There was nothing to say, really. The arachne were brutal but effective, especially here on their home terrain.

  But the battle wouldn’t be as simple as the opening salvo. Several aquilan were killed by the spider silk volleys, but the aquilans bravely risked further attack by hovering over the canopy and firing into the gaps. Florence saw spider ichor splatter over the edge of the north platform and knew the corrosion spiders were getting hammered. She couldn’t stay put any longer. Too many spiders were going to die if the lycans couldn’t get involved somehow.

  “Come with me,” she told her trainees as she clambered up the north slope. “Find a place to hide, Emmaline!”

  She regretted leaving the diviner behind but when a battle called Florence always found it hard to resist. She led her willing trainees up the rocky slope and threw herself to the ground as a trail of bullets spat its way across the dirt. Narrowly avoiding the lethal silver bullets, Florence bounced to her feet and bolted across the rock bridge that joined to the north platform. It was a huge granite slab and she was shocked to see it was slick with spider ichor. Every single corrosion spider had been shredded by bullets. Worse still, teams of aquila were now descending to the platform. Wave upon wave of eagle wearing bronze body armor. Many of them opened fire on the vulnerable orb spiders on their webs. The beautiful orange spiders were struck by a torrent of bullets. The webbing that spanned the hollow was incredibly strong, but couldn’t withstand such a barrage indefinitely. One by one the orb spiders fell to their deaths at the bottom of the hollow.

  There was no time to hesitate. Florence rushed forward, hoping like hell her trainees followed. The first course of action seemed simple enough. Howling a feral war cry, Florence bowled over three aquilans by the time she’d made it through their ranks. Wilson, Miss Garvey and Julian also caused havoc as they pushed their way through. Now that the eagles had close quarter assailants among their ranks, most of the imposing warriors drew long, silver swords.

  “Stay away from the blades,” Florence warned as two aquilans circled to
attack. She dodged left as a blade came swinging down, then plunged her claws into the bronze breastplate of the closest attacker. Yanking on the armor savagely, she almost dislodged it. With her free hand she swiped at the aquilan’s face and open two bloody gouges in the woman’s cheek. The aquilan sank to her knees, momentarily dazed, but before Florence could deliver a killing blow the second aquilan pressed close, swinging his sword wildly.

  Florence jumped high over the low-swinging blade and grabbed hold of the warrior’s wrist. A simple nerve squeeze was enough to encourage the man to drop his sword. Florence followed with a kick to the ribs. Under normal circumstances a broze chestplate would easily counter a front kick, but this aquilan happened to be up against an enraged werewolf. The breastplate closed in over the man’s ribs and impeded his breathing. Florence turned to the first aquilan, who had now recovered herself and was preparing for another sword attack. Her vision was affected by the blood tricking over her eyebrow. Florence sought to press home this advantage, sidestepping the blade and clawing at the woman’s face a second time. Scarlet blood poured into both eyes and the woman took a step back in a panicked response. Bad move. Florence was already flanking the woman from behind and calmly tore her wings free with a grunt. As the aquilan slumped to the rock, Florence kicked her sword free, leaped over the body and circled the male enemy. He was protecting his ribs with one hand, meaning his defensive stance had been compromised. Florence ducked underneath his clumsy attack and ripped the breastplate free. Punching the warrior in the ribs repeatedly, Florence felt bone crack and knew her job was almost done.

  The aquilan fell to the ground, his breathing ragged. Florence bent low and removed his wings with a flourish. She was about to turn and check on the female when she felt a sharp pain lance through her side. It was the female aquilan, clearly dying from her mortal wound but not quickly enough. The warrior had removed a silver dagger from a thigh scabbard and plunged it into Florence’s tawny fur.

  In a starburst of panic Florence realized she was probably dead. She collapsed to the rock as if she’d been hit by a truck. She couldn’t control her limbs, such was the pain her mind was dealing with. She wondered if an internal organ had been lanced by the silver weapon. If that had occurred, she was done for. She’d never known why silver was kryptonite to a lycan, only that it was. The concept had always been an abstract classroom theory, well documented over the centuries but inadequately explained. Right then Florence was experiencing first hand how deadly silver could be to a lycan. All she could do was haul herself to the edge of the battle and wait for death to come.

  Oddly, her senses remained as sharp as ever as she lay panting on the rock. She felt like she had left her body and enjoyed a commanding, almost peaceful view of the melee.

  She noticed Julian grappling with a male warrior a few yards away. Her lover noticed that she was injured and seemingly found an extra reserve of strength. He wrested the sword from his opponent and cut savagely at the man’s leg. The aquilan toppled to the ground and Julian wasted no time in removing his wings.

  Florence surveyed the wider battle. Wilson and Miss Garvey were locked in a desperate tussle, facing foes on all sides. More aquilan reinforcements dropped from the canopy and Florence wondered if there would be any spider forces to match them. Judging from the number of aquilans dropping to the bottom of the hollow, the spider ranks were probably pinned to the ground. For a horrible moment Florence pondered the nightmarish prospect of losing the battle and being executed by the aquila. The most frustrating thing was lying on the edge of battle and being unable to move. She saw a large aquilan drop to the platform and drew her breath in sharply. Hector Caliri.

  “He’s mine,” she found herself saying, realizing how stupid it sounded from her position. It was a reflex action, a manifestation of her hatred of the man who had engineered the lycan slaughter.

  Already the aquilan leader was swinging his sword with abandon, confident no lycan could get near his pristine armor. The sword glowed hungrily, as if sensing lycan blood. Hector laughed outright as he penetrated Wilson’s defenses and struck him on the temple with his sword pommel. The trainee collapsed like a rag doll and Florence feared he was dead. Hector saw Florence lying on the hard stone and his eyes took on a sinister gleam. He strode toward Florence, his heavy boots thudding ominously on the granite. A pair of black furry feet filled Florence’s vision - Miss Garvey was now standing between her and an appointment with death. Hector engaged the plucky werewolf and was forced to block a few times before cutting brutally across Garvey’s midriff. The wound wasn’t deep but began suppurating immediately. The trainee looked at Florence in shock before falling backwards. Her head cracked loudly against the stone and Florence was certain she’d lost yet another friend.

  Hector grinned at Florence and held his sword high.

  “The lycans have breathed their last,” he murmured arrogantly. He swung the sword down for the killing blow and Florence made a point of looking Hector straight in the eye - but instead of the wet sound of sundered flesh, the abrasive clang of metal on metal reverberated in the werewolf’s ears.

  Julian had blocked Hector’s blow with a sword from one of the fallen aquila. Florence watched her man flick Hector’s sword away and saunter out into the middle of the rock platform. Hector smiled again and joined him.

  “Okay,” the aquilan leader said softly. “She can wait just fine.”

  The men squared off with each other, circling slowly.

  “How’s that wing of yours, Banes?” Hector crowed. “Just imagine, the first aquilan cripple.”

  Julian said nothing, leveling a steely gaze at his foe.

  “You should thank me for this,” Hector said. “What use is a crippled aquilan to anyone?”

  Julian maintained admirable discipline, which probably saved his life as Hector made a lightning lunge suddenly. Any lesser swordsman might have been skewered, but Julian turned Hector’s sword aside and resumed his stance. The man had clearly been well schooled in the ancient art of swordplay.

  Hector made attack after attack but was repelled each time by Julian’s excellent defense. Just as Hector’s blows became a little more ragged, Julian began counter-attacking. Most of the young aquilan’s blows glanced off Hector’s breastplate and did no damage. Julian completed a flurry of blows and paused as if he was tired.

  “Looks like running off with that bitch has dulled your edge, Banes,” Hector drawled. “I think it’s time we finished this.”

  And with that, Hector twirled around and swung his sword so powerfully that Julian couldn’t hope to defend against it. But the younger man wasn’t there. Anticipating Hector’s killing move, Julian had pressed himself flat on the stone. In the split second it took for Hector to realize his mistake Julian had risen like a murderous tide, pushing his sword through Hector’s throat. The aquilan champion’s eyes went wide as blood spurted from his mouth. Incredibly, Hector pulled himself along the sword, drawing so close to an astonished Julian that he was able to run his glowing sword through the younger man’s torso. Both men fell together, joined by steel and blood.

  His face a mask of pain, Julian was able to reach over and peel away one of Hector’s wings. A clear, viscous fluid joined the blood on the stone.

  Through sheer, bloody-minded will, Hector pushed Julian’s head to one side with one hand and and tore at his wings with another. With amazing strength the older aquilan tore away a section of Julian’s wing at the base. “No!” Florence cried, sure that her own heart had stopped beating. “Not Julian!”

  Before she knew what she was doing Florence was crawling across the stone and laying her arms across her lover’s motionless body.

  “He was mine!” she wailed to no one in particular, not caring what tumbled from her mouth. “He had no one else!”

  As Florence descended into a hellish sea of grief, she was vaguely aware of a sickening patter. Hundreds of spider’s legs on the stone, but she knew a million could never be enough to bring Julian b
ack to her.

  8

  Rocky Mountains, USA

  Like most living creatures, the naturebound had strong protective instincts. Many of them had children and were understandably concerned about the future.

  Jack had successfully convinced the naturebound that life in the Rockies, so deep in the shadow of the aquila, was not the kind of life a child deserved. Which meant the brash werewolf now had hundreds of refugees on his hands. A good thing he knew a place that might possibly house them. Only problem was, it was in a city preparing for battle. Out of the frying pan, into the fire.

  Of course, Jack was now flying high on the message Yasmin had sent him. It was a bolt from the blue and exactly what he needed, even if it meant there was serious trouble brewing in his home city of New York. The only question now was how to get all these naturebound folk to New York without arousing suspicion? Thankfully there seemed to be less aquilan activity over the last two days. Jack wondered whether aqulian forces had been mobilized against Florence, if she was still alive. He itched to contact her but in the end made the hard decision to hold back. If his comrade was under attack, or indeed on the run, the last thing she needed was someone to give her position away. No, the one thing Jack knew for sure was that Yasmin was in New York and that’s where he needed to be.

  The first task was to hike out from the Rockies with the naturebound. Thankfully, these folk were hardy and traveled light. Within a day and a half the entire community had reached the outskirts of Stelton, a small town on the eastern fringe of the Rockies. From there it was a relatively simple matter of booking several buses to ferry the naturebound to New York.

  Even though Jack was on high alert, there were a number of factors in their favor. First, no one could reasonably expect him to show up in New York alongside hundreds of naturebound. Second, these folk spent most of their time in human form, reducing the chance of drawing attention. Finally, most enemy eyes in New York would now be focused on the attack that would soon take place. Jack hoped to cruise into town largely unnoticed.