The Lowpool Invasion (1 of 6)

"Congratulations on finally escaping Sarel's clutches," Lergen chuckled teasingly. "I was beginning to think she'd keep you chained forever to the picking baskets."

Defi nodded. Escape? The man could not hear his lamentations. How could he look at ordinary food forever when he had tasted Sarel's cooking?

"I'd like something of an arrangement, in fact," he addressed Sarel. "I'll pick fruit if I can have some baskets for Turq and Jar."

Zaziphos fruited all year round, so he would not worry about not being able to feed his pets.

Falie laughed. "You're determined to feed them fruit, Defi? You must have the most spoiled slime in the whole empire. Well, the grapes have stopped fruiting for the summer already, so I can't help you there until the first frost harvest."

"I'll come help you then, of course." The first frost harvest was at the end of the fall season – some types of plants in Ascharon took the time to seed one last time during the initial chill of winter. Suirberries were one of them.

"You're staying in this dinky town that long?" Sarel twisted her lips in a half-smile, as teasing as Lergen. "I thought you looked more the crazy adventure type."

"The seakraits were not my fault." It was not the first time he said it.

The others laughed. They had gotten the long-suffering explanation from Sarel, when they asked about the giant slime the town was gossiping over.

"Why did I have to come with you this time?" He stifled a sigh, but he went along with the humor. He did not mind, as he could feel that all of them looked upon him with friendly warmth. He could not help but return their warmth.

He knew why, of course. Sarel just didn't want to admit that she'd organized a leaving feast for him. He'd learned over the last month that Sarel was the kind of person who was deviously affectionate with people she saw as friends. This gathering was timed with the group of friends' regular meeting at the orphanage. It was Sarel silently letting them know she approved of Defi as well as letting Defi know he was welcome in her circle. It delighted him and also gave him an unexpected melancholy.

"If I leave you in my house," said Sarel bluntly, "a seakrait might slither up out of nowhere and destroy it."

Of course, in most other aspects of her life, the woman moved with such directness.

The others laughed again. Hames, Falie's husband, even cracked one of the few smiles Defi had ever seen on the man's face.

"Ah!" Aire, Lergen's wife, made to stand. "The fruit and jelly must have set by now. I promised that children that—"

Her words were cut off by a delicate chiming, like a score of small bells rung in a marching melody.

"Beast attack," Aire interpreted quickly. "The docks. Defensive orders."

"That's rare." Lergen stood. "Get the children inside."

Aire started closing the windows, locking the shutters. Defi helped her as the others went to gather the children.

"There's not been a beast attack on the Lowpool in half a century," said Aire. She forced a smile at Defi. "Do you want to hear the story?"

It was obvious she was attempting to calm herself. Defi could only assent.

The story went, that there was once a nest of winged lions near the town and so the people here suffered regular attacks. Then one spring, after a year of famine following a year of plenty, the starving lions who had flourished in the year of plenty but could not find enough food in the famine attacked the town, which even then was fat on the fish from the lake, and many people were lost.

The mayor of that time lost his wife and nearly lost their only child. His vengeance-fueled crusade wiped the winged lions from the vicinity of the Lowpool. Then after the town and lake area was made safe, he erected the stone statue of a crocodile in the town square. "Beware the Lowpool," he said, the words that were struck in the stone of the pedestal forever. "for only blood can lift the head of the crocodile."

"There were never any crocodiles in the Lowpool, I think, only in the southern parts of the great river, so I don't know where he got the words," she admitted. "But the story is told to every child when they teach us the warning chimes."

"It's a fine story," Defi said, sending her a smile as they barricaded the doors. "What else are we supposed to do?"

She shook her head. "Now, we wait for someone to send the chimes saying it's safe."

A loud thud startled them. "Open up!"

Defi stepped forward, pulling the woman away from the door. Aire frowned as she moved. "I don't recognize that voice."

"We're from the caravan!"

Defi only partially removed the barricade, keeping the lower bars on the horizontally-split door. He glanced at Aire, who nodded. The top half of the door was yanked open nearly immediately when Defi slid the upper bar away.

The man outside smiled in relief. "There are seakraits attacking the docks!"

Aire let out a noise of shock. "Most seakraits don't survive the Little Treachery. Come-"

The hand on her elbow stopped her.

"And you ran here, all the way from the docks?" Defi lips curved upward. "You must have been very frightened."

"Of course," the man shuddered. His companion, now visible, grimaced. "There's six seakraits there, you know."

"You even took the time to count them, in your fright." Defi calmly praised. "You are observant."

The man stared at him. "What's that have to do with anything?"

"I'm just curious," Defi answered. "That your very observant eyes did not go first to the school, which on this street is closer to the docks than this building. You will have noticed, certainly, that it is stonework, one of the very few safest buildings in town. You couldn't have missed it, of course?"

His companion leered. "Ya letting us in or not?"

Defi smiled brightly. "Sorry, no."

Something crashed into the door, cracking it. The man outside grinned. "Who said we needed yer permission in th'first place, boy?"

He kicked a powerful boot into the door again.

A vase crashed into his head and broke into small pieces. The man howled and reared back. A piece of ceramic dug itself into his forehead and blood trickled down.

Defi glanced back. Aire was glaring at the men outside, arm still raised, another vase in her other hand. "They're after the children?"

"Is there any way to warn the town again?" The seakraits were only a distraction, and greater malice was at work.

His lips thinned. There were very few reasons for an attacking force to bother with orphan children in a civilian town. The most likely reason in this case - a show of strength. The shape that show might take...there were no good options.

Aire answered his question in the negative. "The alarms are at the docks, the town hall, and the school. We are not an important town. With the dangerous beasts gone, who would want to hurt us?"

The door exploded.

Defi pushed Aire behind him. "Go warn the others."

"If you think you're facing them outnumbered…"

He looked at her, letting her see his eyes sharpen. "I have been trained as a warrior since I was six years old."

Aire's lips thinned. A shadow darkened the door. She viciously hurled the vase in her hand at the figure in the smoke. There was the sound of breaking and a snarled curse. "You better be alive when I return, Defi, or I swear…"

"You've weakened them enough for me to prevail."

She snorted and ran for reinforcements, heart pounding.

Of course, the difference between an adept who has not been trained in the Sacred Arts, and a true warrior-priest of Ontrea was as large as the gap between land and sky. Defi stepped away from the main doors, half concealing himself beside it, thinking.

There were three doors into the orphanage. The enemy would have sent enough to subdue Lergen and Aire and then take all thirteen children. Not more than a dozen, divided between three doors. He would be facing at least three people who were armed and ready for violence.

He took a deep breath, falling into the Fifth Circle, letting the Current flow through every part of him. His ears sharpened, his muscles relaxed, his feet became light. His senses caught the scuff of leather on wood.

He reached into the smoke, eyes half-lidded, and pulled the man sharply forward.

The man grunted, swung fists wrapped in iron and leather. A brawler. His balance already disrupted, the man staggered as Defi evaded.

Enemy head in reach, Defi slammed the side of his fist into the other's temple.

The other side of the man's head connected with the wood of the doorway.

He dropped.

A blade slid along Defi's torso. Even with Current-enhanced senses, he barely evaded the enemy. The sword cut and thrust in experienced movements.

Defi twisted, leaped away. He grabbed a piece of the broken door, hefting it just as the sword came at him again. The point thudded into the wooden beam he held at chest height.

Out of the smoke came a woman. Above the shine of the blade, her eyes were cold. Her face was set in harsh and beautiful lines.

She pressed her blade into Defi's defense. The thick piece of wood bent at the pressure she exerted. The edges of her lips lifted as Defi held his makeshift shield steady with both hands, even against the force of her dominance.

But even so hardy, wood gave way to edged steel.

Defi's shield would not last. He let himself yield. There was a flash of disappointment in her eyes, which was ignored as Defi twisted the piece of wood around sharply. It broke.

But the sword clattered against the wall, wrenched from the woman's hand.

Without hesitation, another blade came at him. Defi evaded the dagger, once, twice. The Current swirled around him, speeding his movements, soothing his pain.

The dagger scraped against his collarbone. He inhaled suddenly, disrupting the rhythm of his breathing. He hurled the wooden pieces still in his hands at her. An undignified move. His instructors in the art of combat would have died in shame at the sight.

She pressed close, cold eyes never moving from him.

His back hit the wall, and he flinched. She took quick advantage. He moved quickly enough that only the dagger point entered his shoulder. His hand was at her throat, squeezing.

"Inizar."

One calmly furious word and his opponent was blasted off him and into the wall in a torrent of red.

Defi released the breath he'd been holding in exertion, gasped fresh air back into his lungs. He inhaled, exhaled, again. His breathing calmed.

Lergen stalked after the thrown body, disappearing into the hole created in the wall. Red sparks flickered around his body.

Hames and Sarel stopped by Defi, looking grim at the devastation.

"The other doors?"

Sarel snorted. "Small fry."

Defi nodded, bent and took up the enemy woman's sword from where it lay.

Hames turned, glimmers of blue playing about him. "I'll head to the docks."

He rummaged in the remains of a cabinet, took out a parasol. He stepped out the door, snapped the parasol open as if he were going on a picnic. He looked over his shoulder at the two of them. "There are three more here. I'll leave them to you."

Then he was gone.

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Chapter End

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Notes:

Inizar – the safety word for mass produced sigilcards, also known as the standard 'activation word'. The safe words are added to prevent activation accidents with sigilcards that are not custom-made. Custom-made sigilcards can be made to activate only with the touch of the owner's power