Elfhome

They came through the front gate, let in by Ginger Wine’s door guard, just as the first round of machine gun fire announced the death of Jewel Tear’s Second.

“Get everyone out.” Tinker ordered and cast the Stone esva shield. The rest of Jewel Tear’s Hand would die as surely as her Second trying to rescue Jewel Tear. The shield encompassed an annoyingly small area, enveloping half what she would cover with her Wind esva shield. “Stay close.”

They went through the sprawling compound, plowing through Ginger Wine’s staff as they fled away from the gunfire. They got as far as the inner courtyard when Pony paused her.

“Domi, they’ve barricaded themselves into the training hall.” He pointed to the low building across the yard full of apple trees. The doors were closed and rifle barrels bristled from the arrow slits.

“Watch out!” Tinker cried as one of the rifle’s jerked back and made room for a rocket launcher. A missile blasted toward them and slammed into the domana shield. The force of the explosion plowed back through the trees, snapping off limbs and making it rain down half-ripe fruit.

“That missile launcher is really starting to piss me off.” Tinker growled.

“We need to cover Ginger Wine’s people.” Pony studied the building with narrowed eyes. “It would be unwise to force our way into the training hall — even if we could breach the doors. There are at least a dozen warriors inside; we would be overwhelmed if there’s more than three for each of us to fight.”

“Do you think they have Jewel Tear in there?” Tinker winced as a second missile slammed into her domana shield.

Stormsong shook her head. “No, this force is just to slow us down as they take Jewel out another way.”

“We’ll need Wolf to get them out of the training hall,” Pony said.

“Fuck that.” Tinker glanced around. There was a stone wall beside them. “Take cover.”

She dropped the shield and aimed a flame strike at the training hall.

It had a lot more power behind it than she expected. The night erupted into brilliance as flame blasted up through the roof on the training hall. Burning timbers and ceramic roofing tiles came raining back down.

Tinker ducked back beside her Hand. They were staring at her in stunned shock. “Shit! I thought training hall was shielded!”

“The oni wouldn’t know the activation command.” Pony broke the silence. “Only Ginger Wine and a handful of her people would know.”

Stormsong found her voice. “Are you nuts? Do you have any idea how dangerous that spell is?”

“It’s a calculated risk.” Tinker recast the shield. “We need to find Jewel and what’s left of her Hand.”

22: Helpless

Gunfire woke Oilcan. He tumbled out of bed, once again disoriented by the pattern of light and shadows in his bedroom. Where was he? Oh, yes, Sacred Heart. Was it gunfire he actually heard?

The thunder of a machine gun answered his question. It sounded far too close for comfort. Thorne Scratch was dressing hurriedly in the darkness.

“Where’s that coming from?” He didn’t bother fumbling for his discarded clothes. He pulled fresh out of his dresser.

“Ginger Wine’s.” Thorne Scratch growled.

There was a sudden draconic roar and the flare of crimson tainted brilliance. Thorne had her vest armor on; the light gleamed off the slick black of the scales.

“Thank gods,” Thorne Scratch breathed out.

“What was that?”

“Fire Clan esva.” She tugged on her pants. “I need to go. Take the children to the safe room and lock yourself in.”

He stepped into his tennis shoes without bothering with socks.

Thorne Scratch was pulling on boots as he went out his door. The kids were spilling into the hallway, all in nightgowns, whimpering in distress. There was another roar. Through the hallway window, he saw a crest of flame rise up out of buildings down the street, temporarily lighting the night to day. The kids cried out and ran to him. He was suddenly trapped by a dozen arms clinging tightly to him.

“It’s okay! It’s okay! Prince True Flame and the Wyverns are fighting the oni. We’ll be fine.”

“Get to the safe room!” Thorne snapped from his bedroom. “Go!”

He started them moving, shuffling forward like a giant amoeba of fear. It wasn’t until Thorne swept past them like a dark shadow that the kids let go of him enough to cling to each other in more manageable groups.

Thorne Scratch unlocked the front door and then stood waiting for him to catch up to her.

“Go to the safe room.” He pushed the kids toward the hallway.

Thorne caught him by the front of his T-shirt and kissed him hard. “I hate leaving you here with nothing to protect you.” She whispered.

“You’re the one running toward the fight.” He said. “I’ll be tucked behind several feet of stone.”

Thorne Scratch gave him one last long stare as if it was going to be the last time she’d see him alive. “Lock this behind me. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

And then she was gone.

Locking the door was the hardest thing he ever had to do.