32. BURN IT TO THE GROUND

  I stepped up to the cliff's edge, shrouded in shadow by the low bushes along the cliff top, and looked down at The Factory.

  The blocky rectangular building wore a stack on its roof pouring smoke and steam into the air in steady streams, shadows clinging to every surface in the early morning light. When compared with our previous excursion to this valley, something had changed. Now a knot of soldiers marched around The Factory at regular intervals, and there were sentries posted at every entry. We'd guessed that they would increase security around the Factory after our first incursion, but honestly, we expected more men to be stationed in the valley itself.

  We'd already taken down half-a-dozen soldiers patrolling the bluff and tied them up. We expected more resistance inside the building too. Up in the trees to my right, our warrior mages prepared for their first battle. To my left, Dirk and fifty of his soldiers stood back in the undergrowth—all of them awaiting my signal.

  The sun wouldn’t rise for another hour and shadows still haunted the valley as the night began to fade. The information we’d gathered from watching this valley from Percy’s hidden perch meant we knew about every watch rotation, how many soldiers went in and our of the Factory, and when sentry shift change would occur.

  Our mission this morning was simple: Free any remaining mages, destroy the machines, and burn The Factory to the ground.

  I gave the signal.

  Dirk’s men threw a dozen ropes down the cliff face, and even before the ropes reached the valley floor, men began climbing down, scaling the wall in a quiet sprint.

  The Spellcasters stepped forward, all of them wearing long dark mages cloaks. Their hands went up as they began to weave a variety of attack spells from the cliff top. We saw the results quickly.

  Several guards patrolling along The Factory walls suddenly dropped to the ground, falling immediately unconscious. Several more soldiers standing near the entrances dropped in a similar fashion. In a matter of seconds, the guards surrounding, guarding, patrolling The Factory were all down, and no alarm rang out.

  Our approach was clear.

  Dirk's soldiers hit the ground and ran to The Factory walls, taking up positions as more ropes went over the cliffside. The rest of us quickly descended to the valley floor in the near darkness of the pre-dawn morning. Soldiers and mages paired up on the valley floor, and each team of two entered The Factory together.

  I entered from a side door that opened up onto the main floor, and as before, I saw mages chained to machines with two machinists per machine working with various parts of tool and weapons, and a number of thugs patrolling around the outside of The Factory floor.

  I looked out across the whole of The Factory floor, and saw how many men we were up against. There were easily over a hundred workers on the machines, including the chained-up mages, who I had hoped wouldn’t put up a fight, plus another dozen guards walking around inside the building.

  I drained a small piece of jade of its matter and cast my arms wide. I wove as fast as I could, creating an intricate muffling spell that would cover the entirety of the building. This way, we had discussed prior to the attack, no sound from whatever followed would alert anyone outside the building of our presence. At least, that was the goal. I could already hear our men moving into The Factory behind me, preparing for the larger assault.

  I completed the spell and moved onto the floor towards the first machine. The two machinists directly in front of me were so focused on their tasks they didn’t notice me as I raised my staff and knocked them out, one after the other with brutal swipes to their temples. I quickly freed the mage before moving on.

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  One of the machinist's at the next machine saw my attack coming, and brought up a polished rifle barrel, swinging it towards my head with a shout. I stepped toward him quickly and blocked the rifle barrel, whirling the butt of my staff into his nose.

  He crumpled to the ground while the mage stationed at his machine watched me with wide eyes—I freed him quickly and moved deeper into the Factory. I left the mages to the incoming soldiers coming in behind me. They had orders to rescue and get them out of The Factory.

  I had stored up a significant amount of matter in my staff’s talisman, and I used that now to weave a shockwave spell, knocking the next two machinists to the ground. I clunked one on the head to keep him down.

  I turned around and saw a giant soldier towering over the machines. He looked directly at me, growling from down the aisle. I involuntarily flinched at seeing this monster glowering at me and striding in my direction. I moved toward him and drew a gold flake into my hand, weaving it quickly into nothing before I got too close—channeling all of its matter into my staff.

  The talisman glowed with power.

  The giant wore leather and furs, a stitching of the emblem of Vale on his chest, his hair long around his shoulders. A curious scar rode down his cheekbones on the right side of his face, plunging into a matted beard. In one hand, he gripped a large steel claw, clearly not a weapon meant for a quick kill, and with the other hand, he drew out a wide-barreled, single-handed pistol larger than any I’d seen before. Rare was the man who could even heft such a weapon.

  This thug kept moving directly toward me, and confidence rippled from his brawny shoulders and from the smile on his face.

  I stepped toward him and lowered my staff, talisman pointed forward. I drew a chunk of ivory into my left hand, one-handedly weaving its matter away. The giant watched me weave and without flinching took slow steps back into an open area beyond the row of machines. I moved forward slowly, following him, and his grin widened.

  Behind me, I heard the sounds of battle breaking out as the Spellcasters and Dirk’s Resistance fighters moved in and fought to take control of The Factory. These sounds faded somewhat into the background for me as I stepped forward to face the giant.

  I sent the matter from the ivory into a swirl in front of me, beginning to weave a complex concussion spell, when out of the corner of my eye I saw a man close in behind me. I stepped to the side and turned my head slightly to see who it was, but like the giant, this man stepped close to me with a huge grin on his face.

  I whirled around again to see another three men slide into place, boxing me into the open space.

  The giant had lured me into a trap.

  I spun in a circle, keeping my staff between them and me, and failing. Each of them had clubs and knives and other melee weapons, and their intent was clear. They meant to capture me alive and beat me to a pulp in the process.

  The matter from the chunk of ivory dissipated into the ether. Distracted by the trap, I'd waited too long to finish my weaves, and the matter was gone.

  The giant stepped in first swinging a powerful downward blow with his claw that I narrowly escaped with a dodge and a roll, but another soldier managed to hit me upside the head with his club as I rolled close. I sprang to my feet and whirled my staff around to point it at the man who’d clubbed me, firing off a quick spell and sending a bolt of blue lightning into him.

  He slammed back and into the ground.

  I fired off another bolt of energy, catching the giant in the shoulder and spinning him backward and away from me.

  Someone clubbed the back of my head, and suddenly I felt a ringing my ears and dropped to my knees. Dizzy, I cast a strong shielding spell using the remaining matter from the head of my staff. Before the spell was complete, one man stabbed at me with a dagger and I spun to avoid it, gasping in pain as his blade entered my lower back.

  Then my shield dropped over me, and cut off the man’s hand at the same moment and he screamed. His dagger fell to the ground, the blade glistening with my blood. The eyes of the other thugs went wide as their companion screamed at the loss of his hand — and no one ventured another attack.

  I had a minute or two under the shield. Despite being wounded, already, I could make that minute count. I ignored the pain from my head and the stab wound in my lower back and took up my staff in my right hand.

  I needed to make this count.