Row after row of spectators fell dormant until, at last, the entire stadium was ghostly silent. Then, the Warflies descended upon the roof and high fixtures of the stadium and perched like invisible gargoyles.

  Caerfasz made a final sweep of the stadium’s perimeter. Little movement: a few cars coming or going. But no law enforcement. No flashing lights. No military.

  I’ll be a Warspider’s egg, Caerfasz thought. The Drefids actually pulled it off. Maybe the Dark Arts aren’t as unreliable as I suspected.

  Caerfasz gave three long blasts on his warhorn. It was answered by a strange, muffled tone that seemed to come from beneath the football field.

  On a section of the field, empty of fallen players and coaches, the turf exploded upward. Clumps of earth the size of trucks careened into the air, and gigantic, gray segmented worms burst out of the ground. Each one had eight small black eyes and a gaping, leech-like maw.

  Behind these serpentine beasts, thousands of Gwar warriors began to emerge. Many rode Warspiders and dragged massive, walled carts behind them. They positioned themselves, ten-deep, at the bottom of every stadium section.

  Caerfasz signaled once more to his squadron, and the ferrying began. The Warflies used their many appendages to gently grab up fifteen to twenty people at a time. They descended rapidly to the carts and carefully dropped off their loads. Waiting Gwar and Drefids positioned the unconscious humans so that they could not smother themselves.

  The fully-loaded Warspiders clambered back into the holes from which they’d come, took one of several subterranean passages, and dropped off their prisoners at Asp’s brilliant brainchild: the subterranean railway. Asp had reasoned that the humans could keep their random, naturally formed aquifers. He’d simply build transportation wherever he wanted it.

  Ground and sky forces worked together with breathtaking efficiency and speed. Caerfasz knew that the entire operation needed to be complete in fifteen Earth minutes or less. Moving ninety-thousand humans in fifteen minutes was no small feat, but Gwar and Drefids had practiced for so long that they made it happen.

  The stadium now empty—even the food stands and bathrooms had been scoured—Caerfasz prepared to leave. He couldn’t help but smile, looking at the vacant seats. “There,” he muttered, as he nudged his Warfly to enter one of the holes. “That ought to be enough slaves for Asp to set his plan in motion.”

  Minutes later, deep beneath the surface, Caerfasz triggered the arc stone charges that had been strategically placed beneath the field and throughout the stadium.

  There was a blinding blue-white flash. Steel and concrete twisted, crumbled, and vaporized. The Texas stadium, built over six years at a cost of over a billion dollars, was reduced to rubble and dust in a matter of seconds. No one would find the imploded tunnels or any evidence of the Gwar and Drefids’ presence there.

  For the humans who investigated the scene, they would find only that ninety-thousand people…had vanished.

  12: Unfolding Secrets

  “I DON’T LIKE HER,” AUTUMN SAID.

  Kat and Kiri Lee raised their eyebrows, but they could hardly disagree. There was definitely something about Taeva that didn’t sit right. The three lords sat in a small anteroom following the conclusion of the Conclave meeting, nursing their loss by changing the subject; and Taeva was as good as any distraction at the moment. The guys wouldn’t join them for a little while longer, choosing instead to see some of the so-called “leaders” safely on their way.

  “Plus do you see the way the guys are smitten with her?” added Autumn. She tried to impersonate her brother: “Apple-farming family heritage. Really?”

  “They do seem distracted,” agreed Kat, thinking of Tommy’s pandering. She felt annoyed. Annoyed that the guys weren’t giving the girls as much attention…and annoyed that she cared so much about attention from the guys in the first place. Especially from Tommy.

  There was more. A hint of fear maybe? There was something about the guys’ instant infatuation that seemed unnatural. Kat couldn’t put her finger on it. It wasn’t tangible or visible, like a spot of yellow mold on an orange. Whatever it was, Kat found that she didn’t like—didn’t trust Taeva.

  “We’ll have to watch her,” said Kiri Lee. “Carefully.”

  “All the same, I think we should keep this between us,” added Autumn. The other two nodded.

  There came a knock at the door.

  “Come,” said Kat.

  “M’ladies,” said a female attendant pushing open the door, then stepped aside.

  “Grimwarden,” the three lords said in unison. They rose immediately to meet him.

  “If only such smiles greeted me behind every chamber door, I’d be a better Elf,” he said. “I thought I’d find you in here.”

  The three girls hugged him and dismissed the attendant.

  “We left the parting pleasantries to the guys,” said Autumn.

  “I don’t blame you,” Grimwarden murmured. “Given the display you just witnessed. When Goldarrow told me all about it, it was all I could do not to—”

  “Not to lop their heads off with your rychesword?” Kat suggested.

  Grimwarden chuckled. “Not exactly as tactful as I was thinking, but no less appropriate.”

  “So what are we going to do?” asked Kiri Lee.

  “That is why I have come.” He gestured to the overstuffed furniture in the corner of the room. The four made themselves comfortable, and Grimwarden lowered his voice. “I have a plan.”

  “I knew you would!” said Autumn. “I knew he would,” she echoed, turning to Kat and Kiri Lee. They smirked. “What? I did.”

  Grimwarden smiled warmly. “Mark of a career warrior, I suppose,” he said. “Anticipate the enemy’s moves, and prepare. It just so happens that I have been preparing Berinfell for just such a time as this. After that meeting, after the scout’s report, one thing is certain: we cannot leave Taladrim to rot.”

  Just then, there came a thud at the door. Grimwarden hit his feet in a heartbeat and, sword in-hand, bounded over the furniture. He flung the door open and a stout shadow fell inside.

  “Overlord Bengfist?” exclaimed Kat, now on her feet with the others.

  “I’m very sorry to bother you, Lady Lords,” he said, wringing his massive hands. He looked to Grimwarden. “I was just walking by and tripped, and the the next thing I knew—”

  “Overlord Bengfist,” Grimwarden interrupted, “had you truly tripped and fallen, then, my old friend, I doubt this frail door would still be on its hinges.”

  Taking their cue from Grimwarden’s tone, the girls relaxed and looked at each other. But why had Bengfist been listening in on their conversation?

  “Ah, well yes, Grimwarden,” Bengfist murmured, the gray skin flushing pink on his broad cheekbones. “You’ve always had a way with words.”

  “Perhaps in friendly conversation,” Grimwarden said. “But I doubt if my words would have done much to change the minds of those short-sighted fools at the Conclave.”

  “And thus why I’m here,” Bengfist said, his expression hardening.

  “Oh?”

  “Tell me, Guardmaster, since when have you ever been one to take no for an answer, especially from the likes of politicians?”

  “I no longer possess the rank, my friend,” Grimwarden admitted, raising his chin.

  “Humph,” Bengfist grumbled. “Maybe not in title. But no man can shed his real identity, especially a chunk of granite like you. Hmph, humph, the allegiances of the faithful run with those loyal to preserving all of Allyra. And not just for now as some would argue, but forever.” Bengfist looked conspiratorially over his shoulder, then lowered his voice. “And I can’t imagine for a second that you’re disappearing back into the Thousand League Forest with your ears bent and your blade broken.”

  Grimwarden looked into the hallway beyond, and seeing it was clear, ushered Bengfist further into the anteroom and closed the door.

  Once they were all comfortable—Bengfist taking the largest sofa-like chair all to himself—Grimwarden resumed his previous train of thought. “I have assembled a small force of Elves loyal to Allyra’s defense.”

  “I KNEW IT!” shouted Autumn, who was immediately met with shushing fingers and at least one hand trying to cover her mouth.

  “If this is to remain a secret,” Grimwarden warned, “then it must be kept in the strictest confidence.” He looked around to each of them. “No mistakes. No leaks.”

  “So what are you proposing we do?” Bengfist asked.

  “Well, first we need to make it back to Nightwish.”

  “Nightwish?” asked Kat. “They’re assembled in Nightwish?”

  “It was the perfect place,” said Grimwarden. “We knew it well for obvious reasons, and it’s the last place any snooping Elf would ever want to look.” The Elves’ long plight underground made the term Nightwish tantamount to an expletive following their return to Berinfell.

  “Grimwarden, please don’t take my inquiry the wrong way,” said Kat, “but how long have you been keeping this from us? This is quite the matter to be hiding from the Lords of Berinfell, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Your lordships,” Grimwarden bowed his head. “It has been more than five years that I’ve been training the Elves in Mandiera. I fully admit my actions of developing a secret army without your knowledge are reprehensible—if not treasonous—deserving severe punishment. However, I might contest—”

  “Oh Grimwarden, we get it,” said Kat. “And none of us,” she looked at Autumn and Kiri Lee, “would ever question you, let alone punish you.”

  “I am most grateful for your trust,” replied Grimwarden. “But still, if I may, I’d like to explain myself, as I’m not the only one who knows.”

  “Really?” The girls leaned in.

  “Goldarrow, Mr. Charlie and Regis are also thoroughly aware. We had long feared there would be an uprising, either from the rogue Gwar survivors, or perhaps from the Drefids. So when the Conclave waxed complacent, ensconced in Berinfell’s newfound luxury, we decided to take matters into our own hands. Our reason for not alerting you, however, was an issue of service.”

  “I don’t understand,” said Kiri Lee.

  “In short?” asked Grimwarden. “Plausible deniability. Should the Six have known of our efforts, there would be no way for you to remain true to your word when negotiating these many long years with the Conclave. Our secrecy secured your integrity.”

  While Kat and the others found the new information a bit startling, though not entirely surprising, they could not fault the Guardmaster nor their esteemed Sentinels for having the Six’s best interests in mind. Over the last several years, the Six had grown up; they’d become diplomats when tensions grew high, and tenacious when politicking grew tenuous. Grimwarden’s secret had in fact forced the Six to mature within the affairs of the Conclave, all the while safeguarding Allyra from future attacks. And they were all better for it.

  “If anything,” Kat finally spoke up, “we honor you for your harrowing act of faith. And when we can, all of Allyra shall know of the secret weight you have carried these many years, especially in the face of outlandish accusations of cowardice.”

  “Hear, hear!” cried Bengfist, slapping the flat of his hand with a fist.

  Grimwardem bowed his head again. “Defeating this Asp will be honor enough,” he replied. “Let us do what needs doing, and then, I don’t care who you tell.”

  “So how do we get to Nightwish?” asked Autumn. “It’s a rather long way, right? And how can we just leave? Our corporate departure will be noticed.”

  “We will depart the city at dusk,” Grimwarden said, “take alternate routes, and converge north of the city. From that point, the Scarlet Raptors I’ve eyried there will bear us to Nightwish. We will assemble our forces there, and then travel north to Kileverand where we’ll commandeer the city’s fleet and set sail. Admiral Cuth is an old friend.”

  “But what will explain our disappearance from the city?” Kiri Lee asked.

  Grimwarden winked. “This was Goldarrow’s idea,” he explained. “Even the Lords of Berinfell need to brush up on their training, now and then. The Six shall depart for a combat retreat, to learn and test a whole host of new moves and weapons.”

  “Well,” Autumn said, “that’s true enough, except that we’ll be fighting for real.”

  “It seems you’ve thought this through,” said Kat. “You really are quite sneaky, you know that?”

  “Elle, er…Goldarrow, I mean, tells me that all the time.”

  Bengfist pounded a fist into his hand and asked, “When do we leave?”

  “Ah, well, there is one minor problem,” Grimwarden said. “Bengfist, I wasn’t expecting your aid on this mission. You’ll likely wish a few of your trusty lads to join us, but I’m afraid I don’t have enough transport for more than yourself. Spare Scarlet Raptors are hard to come by in Berinfell these days. If I begin asking around, others will get curious. We cannot afford any mistakes.”

  “I understand,” Bengfist said, nodding. “My Commanders will stand-by here with our troops. They shall ever be at your disposal, Guardmaster.”

  Grimwarden winced at the term again but realized there would be no dissuading the Overlord from using it. Bengfist was a loyalist to the core, and Grimwarden loved that about him.

  “We will rout the lingering remnant of Asp’s forces!” Bengfist growled. “I suspect that Asp will not be among them. Pity.”

  “There is a need for more than fighting,” Grimwarden said.

  “The survivors?” Kat asked. “The scout said there couldn’t be many.”

  “True,” Grimwarden said, crossing his arms. “But few Elves know of the catacombs. I doubt our scouts did.”

  “Catacombs?” asked Kiri Lee. “As in underground tunnels and chambers?”

  “The same,” said Grimwarden. “Used for storage, and in the event of an assault, the safety of their women and children. Much the same as your parents prepared the escape route and Nightwish Caverns.”

  “So why didn’t Taeva mention it to us?” asked Kat.

  “Given the destruction she experienced,” said Grimwarden, “I suspect she feared to hope. She teeters on the edge, even now. The edge of depression, desperation, or something worse. I am not sure which. You can only imagine the turmoil she’s enduring.”

  “I guess,” Kat replied flatly, surprised that Grimwarden already seemed to trust Taeva when she was clearly up to her neck in guile.

  “Taeva may fear all is lost,” the senior Elf went on. “But I believe the catacombs could very much be intact. They were first carved by the ocean out of solid granite, and then fortified by Taladrim engineers. It would take more than a flood to collapse them. The wrenching question that remains is whether any Taladair citizens made it down there before Asp blew the walls off the city. If some did, they are trapped now, and it’s our job to get them out.”

  “Not that I disagree with you, Guardmaster,” interjected Bengfist, “but a search and rescue mission is not really what I had in mind.”

  “Nor I, Overlord Bengfist, but we have a call to protect all of Allyra’s citizens, not just our own—wouldn’t you agree?”

  Bengfist nodded.

  “And if there are survivors,” Grimwarden went on, “they may hold clues as to where Asp was heading next. We can’t afford to let that information disappear on the sea floor.”

  “I admit your reasoning is sound. Perhaps I simply wish to confront Asp with my warhammer sooner rather than later,” Bengfist said as his knobby fingers absently stroked the giant mallet on his hip.

  “And it will come, Bengfist. It will come. But Asp is a cunning foe, and one misstep on our part could be disastrous. I sense that whatever respect we held for the Spider King, it should be multiplied for Asp. Careful preparation and strategic, deliberate action must guide our every move.”

  Bengfist finally pulled his hand away from his warhammer and leaned toward Grimwarden. “So when do we fly?”

  When all the visiting dignitaries had finally been escorted to the edges of Berinfell, Tommy, Johnny and Jimmy found the girls in the Lords’ training chambers, a long vestibule just outside the throne room. Their surprise at seeing Kat, Autumn and Kiri Lee dressed in travel attire was only bested by discovering that Grimwarden and Bengfist were also there—donning their own gear: heavy boots and floor length, oil skinned cloaks.

  Tommy, Jimmy and Johnny exchanged perplexed glances.

  “We must have missed the memo,” Tommy said, checking his back and closing the door. “So…uh, where are we going?”

  The band of travelers looked at each other before Kat spoke up. “Nightwish.”

  “Excuse me?” Tommy mumbled.

  Johnny and Jimmy engaged in a contest of whose jaw could hit the floor quickest.

  “I’m not certain I understand,” Bengfist said, scratching his chin. “What’s there to excuse? Did you burp or far—”

  “It’s an expression of surprise from Earth,” Grimwarden explained quickly, angling the back of his hand against the corner of his mouth.

  “Oh. How strange,” Bengfist replied, thinking the Gwar response of roaring was far more direct.

  Grimwarden stepped forward and explained what he’d shared with the girls about his secretive band of elite Elven warriors hiding in The Underground, as well as the logic of sailing north for Taladair. He included his apology and explanation of deniability, then bowed low.

  “Grimwarden,” Tommy said, “you really overstepped your authority here.”

  Kat’s hand flew to her mouth. The others hung on Tommy’s words. Grimwarden’s eyes widened.

  “No,” Tommy went on, “there’s really no excuse. You took thousands of elite soldiers away from Berinfell’s defense.”

 

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