44. ARMY OF GHOSTS

  “Bend, let's begin,” I said softly to him. Behind me Bend began to weave a spell from his vantage point, kneeling in the bushes very close to me.

  Completing the weaves, Bend cast his arms out toward the valley, almost as if he were throwing a net over the whole of the area, which in a way, was exactly what he did. Bend whispered something under his breath, moved his torso around in a practiced motion, and triggered the first spell.m The spell that would start it all.

  In that moment, the valley lit up like a bonfire fueled by a hundred barrels of oil. The shock of light in the newly dark valley, nearly blinded us.

  Every Mage Beacon in the valley suddenly flared to life as if a thousand mages had launched a thousand spells in the valley all at the same time. Now, The Motorized would be expecting us, but at the same time, they wouldn’t know where the attack would come from, or how it would come.

  The Mage Beacons were essentially useless now.

  I signaled to Dirk, who stood with his men several hundred feet down the hill behind us, completely out of sight of the valley, all of his men standing in formation as if they were marching on parade through a city. He’d done some recruiting in the last two weeks. Between his men and mine, we now had perhaps a hundred fighters and mages in total, ready to attack.

  On my signal, all his men started to march in place, looking a little silly, if I’m honest.

  One of our Spellcasters stood nearby and began to weave a complex spell of illusion. Several other mages stood up, beginning to weave their own spells contributing to phase one of our approach:

  Major distraction.

  All of our mages turned away from the spells being cast, not wanting to inadvertently learn them and dilute their power before we’d even begun.

  I looked down at the gates at the entrance to the valley and I watched the dozen of Uof’s soldiers who manned the outposts above the gates atop the stonewalls, lounging around somewhat casually. Most of them looked like simple thugs, similar to the men I’d met outside the gates of the city on my first day in Vale.

  Then our spells began to work and I could tell something was happening.

  Outside the gates, off in the distance, a large army began to materialize. It was a large column of men marching around a corner. The coalescing army appeared to be nearly one thousand men strong. They all marched in perfect harmony, moving together and in a uniform way that would look incredibly well organized from a distance. The soldiers formed up in a column thirty men wide, and the depth of the ranks was such that they soldiers wouldn’t be able to see the end of the column.

  I saw one of the Motorized thugs spy the columns of men marching their way—toward the entrance to the valley. And he froze. Then he sprinted down to his commanding officer.

  The illusion held, and grew in stature and size. Another part of the spells being cast was audible—featuring the loud, clanking marching sounds of an entire army moving toward the valley. Our men just kept coming around the corner and into the narrow canyon heading toward the gates.

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  Of course, our army was still a long way off, still some twenty minutes away from the gates and there was a significant amount of dust kicked up by their march, which also slightly obscured the view. The sounds of their march began to waft up the valley so loudly that even I could hear it as they approached.

  The soldiers manning the gates absolutely panicked.

  One of them blew a horn that attracted the notice of the rest of their encampment, another soldier leaped off the gates and sprinted into the heart of the camp. Men from all over the valley rushed to the gates to get their eyes on who or what approached. The sound of our ghost army’s march grew, and if you listened closely, strangely, it almost sounded as if the sound boomed off the walls of the valley, echoing around the army encampment for maximum effect.

  So many Motorized soldiers and thugs rushed toward their gates to see what the fuss was all about.

  Two men kneeled near me, ready for what came next in our plan. It was getting harder to see as darkness settled on this area of the mountain, the last gleams of the sun streaking through the sky. But that was intentional—this was the perfect time for this attack.

  Earlier, in fact, for days leading up to this moment, I’d drained a significant amount of matter and sent it all into the head of my staff.

  Now, I pulled on that matter.

  I picked out a single man from the army on the valley floor below us. Many of this unsuspecting soldier’s companions had run to the gates to see what was coming up the mountain toward their fortified position. Despite the large army on the way, they didn't look all that concerned.

  He had stayed behind to tend the fire and finish cooking some kind of dinner, though he kept looking nervously off toward the gates. He wore a simple, long-sleeved red shirt, bearing the mark of Vale and Uof’s colors, covered by crude chain mail, along with tall leather boots and leather pants. A simple sword rode his hip in a beat-up metal scabbard. He also wore a woolen hat that stretched over his ears to ward off the cold, a style common to the soldiers here.

  Using this soldier as inspiration, I wove quick disguises for the two men next to me. The first was Greer, our strongest mage and a volunteer for the duty that came next, and the second man was a warrior from Dirk’s ranks called Mattson. These two men were very simply, our best mage and warrior.

  In one moment, they kneeled there, looking up at me, ready for what was to come, then momentarily, both men flickered and shifted, their appearance changing to that of two common soldiers from Vale’s Army, wearing shifts of red, crude chain mail, leather, and beat up swords.

  As the disguises locked into place, I looked at them both. They passed the sight test entirely.

  I gave Greer instructions for removing the spell from both of them once they had accomplished their mission and wanted to rejoin us—this way our men would recognize them and welcome them back instead of attacking them.

  Below us there was a commotion, as the front doors of the massive multi-story factory doors banged open and Uof came charging out. His piston-powered legs had been fixed and he ran headlong toward the gates. His body moved down the path toward the gates to the valley, and his mechanical body ground and cranked, pistons whirring and bursts of steam discharging into the air around him.

  As before, he didn’t seem to notice the discharge; and he was worked up, angry, spoiling for a fight. He'd been sitting here waiting for something to happen for a long time now. We could hear him growling and shouting to the men who went with him, barking random orders for his thugs to follow.

  I watched the Factory closely—I knew Uof could be a problem, but he wasn't my concern.

  Just as I was about to move to the next phase of our plan, I saw him. Moving slow and deliberate, Ruath the Grinder exited The Factory behind a few seconds behind Uof, but moving in an entirely different direction.

  Ruath looked all about him as he walked, checking the ranks of their men, watching all of those who hadn’t run to the front gates to see the approach of our phantom army. Then, about ten steps outside The Factory, Ruath simply stopped—while Uof and the others continued running toward the gates. Ruath's head cocked, and he looked up into the air around the valley. It almost appeared as if he were sniffing the air, feral or animal, movements like that of a wolf of some kind.

  The hair on the back of my neck went up. Ruath was searching for us.