Berkens shrugged. Shannon couldn’t tell if the man was joking or not. “Heretics are heretics.”
“The Mauserists are the ones who call them that.” Shannon scowled. “So you’re judging them on a label you guys came up with? You’re prejudiced as hell.”
“Of course I’m prejudiced,” Berkens replied calmly. “You can’t be a religious monger without a healthy dose of prejudice.”
It was very like Berkens to make a joke to defend himself.
The addition of humor didn’t amuse Shannon, but he instead dropped the subject. It wasn’t like Shannon didn’t have his own share of prejudices.
“Anyway, they’re going to storm us with hand weapons before long. You’re a priest—do you think you can talk them out of this?”
“They attacked us immediately,” Berkens replied as he reached into a pocket. “I doubt diplomacy will work.”
Shannon peeked over the edge of the wall. The strange mob was clearly working out of a combination of hate and bloodlust, and their organization implied that they were on some sort of mission. They also seemed to have a few members with their share of combat training, if the way they moved was any indication.
“I’d say they have about seven experienced fighters,” Berkens said. Shannon watched the mob for another moment, then nodded his agreement.
This is bad. Shannon wasn’t worried about the seven fighters—he was sure he’d be fine as long as he didn’t take on more than two at a time—a situation he could manage with some group-sensitive tactics—it was the other twenty-three who worried him. No matter what strategy he used, Shannon couldn’t imagine handling that many people at once.
And he saw a number of projectile weapons. He considered using Raquel’s magic for a moment, but quickly dismissed that notion when he realized it was probably a bad idea to wake Raquel up so quickly.
“Come out, you Mauserist dog!” somebody shouted from the mob. “We’re sick of your kind ganging up on the innocent to force your oppressive beliefs!”
Berkens made a face. “So says the gang.”
“Ruthless Mauserist murderers! You’ll pay for your sins with your lives! Come out, you dirty Inquisitor! Or are you too scared to do anything but torture helpless victims?!”
Shannon turned to Berkens with narrowed eyes. “You guys are popular around here.”
“Very funny.”
The next angry accusation was drowned out by a loud rumbling sound. Shannon looked around the wall just in time to see a column of fire shoot up toward the ceiling of the cave. He blinked.
“Wh-what?”
The mob froze, their faces turning pale in the sudden blazing light.
With nothing to burn on the bare rock floor, the fire disappeared within moments—but not before leaving a large, ominous red crack from the initial impact and blistering temperature on the ground in front of the crowd. One of the men with obvious military experience stared at it with wide eyes.
“That was military attack magic,” he said in disbelief. “That was Laevatein!”
“Raquel?”
Shannon turned. Sure enough, Raquel wandered out onto the deck as soon as her brother called. But there was one big problem.
She was still half-asleep.
The color drained from Shannon’s face. “Raquel!” he hissed, wildly snapping at her from his crouched position. “Don’t cast anything else! You’re not awake!”
Raquel, her eyes half-lidded, continued to stare out at the cave. “Huh?” she mumbled in a daze.
Shannon’s concern immediately shifted from the attackers to Raquel. The way she was acting, she was far more dangerous than the members of the mob combined.
Raquel wasn’t a normal sorcerer. Using magic required a spell recitation, the securing of mental capacity, and the action of expanding the spell to its full capacity— a set of processes that required a sorcerer to concentrate deeply with a clear presence of mind. Raquel, on the other hand, had a shocking natural ability for magic, and casting spells was almost as easy for her as turning over in her sleep. She could activate spells without much concentration at all.
That had backfired in the past. Since Raquel could cast spells so easily, she also could cause frightening chaos by activating magic while distracted, sleepy, or drunk. She usually took special care in preventing herself from subconsciously casting spells, but that didn’t comfort Shannon.
“Magic… um… thou art a giant who scorches the heavens… um… cloaked in pallid lightning… ruler of wild thunder, the rumbling one, under this vow and covenant of warriors…”
“Don’t, Raquel!”
The mob seemed to notice Shannon’s panic, because they shifted a bit back in careful anticipation.
Raquel yawned. “Come out, Thor.”
A loud clap thundered through the air as light flashed. As the mob watched in shock, a pale glow suddenly emerged in the dark cave and began zipping in circles at a tremendous speed. The light flew, turned, bent, and split; eventually it shot out in lines and started to form a single shape, like wirework.
Lines of light formed graphic figures and filled the shapes with color, while bursting sounds filled the cave. With the building and filling of the frame, the scene looked similar to the creation of a statue by patchwork. But Raquel’s shining components were extracted from thin air, and there was no assembler to fit them together.
The light suddenly burst into an even brighter glow, as if to signal that the process was complete. From behind it emerged a shining giant—bald, shirtless, and more than twice the height of a man. He walked with arms crossed across his magnificently muscular chest.
“Is that… Thor?!” someone cried from the crowd.
Thor flashed his glowing, radiant smile. Since the ceiling was too low for him, he had to bend at the knees a bit.
Exclamations of astonishment burst from the panicking crowd. Thor was advanced Class 1 military strategic level attack magic controlled by an Emulator; he was a tactical weapon created with magic. His massive destructive power was normally used for large-scale battle operations, such as breaking through an enemy line or conquering a strategic base.
It wasn’t the sort of spell some half-asleep sorcerer would cast for a mere thirty attackers.
“See… I activated it… no problem…”
Clearly pleased with herself, Raquel broke out in a loose grin. “See?” she told Shannon as she pointed to the shining giant. “You worry too much. And isn’t he adorable?”
The members of the mob, obviously alarmed, began to inch backward. Thor—unable to speak because of the type of Emulator that controlled him—opened his mouth as if in preparation for a great roar. The air around him crackled with electricity. Electric lights shot out of his huge body like pale snakes only to vanish into thin air.
And then, in a decidedly less impressive move, Thor lowered himself to his hands and knees to avoid hitting his head on the ceiling. Still smiling broadly, made entirely of lightning, and completely silent, he began crawling toward the crowd.
Shannon waved his arms frantically at the mob. “Everybody run!” he shouted at his attackers. “If you touch it, you’ll be vaporized!”
He wanted to spare as many lives as possible.
By the time Shannon and Berkens had made it out of the cave, the mob had dispersed like a flock of frightened chickens. Shannon shifted the unconscious Pacifica in his arms as he quickly looked behind him.
“Is Raquel okay?” he shouted at Berkens over the frightened cries of the attackers. He kept his eyes locked on Thor, who was slithering and bending his lightning body impressively to squeeze out of the cave’s entrance.
“Just asleep!” Berkens called back. “Although how she can doze off after that is beyond me!”
As Shannon checked his twin sleeping peacefully in Berkens’ arms, something caught his eye. He turned his gaze up to the top of the cliff directly above where the lnox had crashed.