A few days later, it was finally the day of the attack. They couldn’t afford to wait any longer.

Igraine had gone over the plan one more time that dawn. Frances and her command would assault the gates first, drawing the enemy’s attention so that Igraine and her group could make their assault from the cliffs. They’d have to rappel down, but with the distracting covering fire from above the cliff, it was hoped they’d be able to make a safe descent into Freeburg’s Third and Fourth Courtyard.

For Frances’s part, she planned to seize the bridge in the centre of the fortress with her command, which was now divided into four units. Alpha and Bravo groups consisted of twenty-two fighters. Charlie and Dog were the mage groups, comprised of seven and eight mages respectively. A further two hundred Conthwaite soldiers would file in to secure the castle after they broke into it.

The code names had been Jim’s (Nicole’s boyfriend) contribution as he thought it would make it easier for communication. Frances kind of liked it

As Frances led her forty-six classmates to the edge of what they knew was the range of the fortress’s guns, she saw there was a nervous eagerness to everybody’s steps. They’d been training for this non-stop. As ashamed as Frances was for causing it, switching Jessica and Leila out was doing wonders for the group’s morale and was far less distracting.

Privately, Frances wondered if her classmates were scared of her now. Martin and Elizabeth didn’t seem too bothered, though, they seemed to watch her quite closely. She appreciated their attentiveness.

Shaking her head, Frances quickly found her group leaders. Martin was leading Alpha. George (who used to be one of Leila and Jessica’s good friends) was leading Bravo. Nicole was leading Charlie and Frances herself was leading Dog. They all were in full gear and looked rather grim.

Frances tried to smile if just to offset the mood. “Right. Just to quickly go over the plan. Charlie and Dog will begin by creating a large mist that will coat the field and the fortress battlements.”

“Alpha and Bravo will then charge the gate, followed by Dog and Charlie. Once Dog and Charlie teams see the battlements they are to suppress them as much as they can, prioritizing the cannons,” Nicole said in a cool voice.

“Nicole and Frances shall breach the gates. Alpha and Dog will charge in and split to seize the southern battlements.” George paused, frowned and after a moment’s thought, the blonde boy added, “Alpha breaks west and Bravo breaks east to clear walls of either side. Dog and Charlie will follow through to support.”

Martin nodded. “We clear the walls and launch a green flare to tell the Conthwaite soldiers to move in. In the meantime, we regroup. Alpha and Charlie start making their way to the bridge gatehouse from the eastern rampart and Bravo and Dog from the western.”

Checking what her friends had said with what she recalled of the plan, Frances took a moment, before she also nodded. “All good. Finally, we have three signals that can be released by any group leader here. Blue smoke should assistance be required. Green smoke for objective reached. Red smoke for mission abort.” Frances reached into her pocket and gave out the colour-coded phials that she and her classmates had brewed over the last few days. If smashed, they would give off that colour of smoke. “Any questions?” she asked.

There were none and Frances took a deep breath. She felt like she should say something. But what should she say? What would her mentor say?

“We got this,” she said, forcing herself to smile.

“Yup.” Martin smiled. He reached forward and clasped Frances’s gloved hand. “See you later, Frances.”

“See you.” She frowned. “Have you figured out the speed issue by the way?”

Martin sighed. During the drills they had realized that because the Otherworlders could run twice as fast as the humans of Durannon (even some of the mages) there was no way Martin could keep up. “Yeah… about that… Elizabeth and Patrick are going to drag me on a sled.”

“That’s going to be hilarious to see!” Nicole guffawed.

George snorted. “It’s going to be a bumpy ride dude.”

“Oh I know,” Martin groaned. “I’ll try to hang on.” Nevertheless, he gave Frances a quick fistbump and marched to his group. The others followed him.

Alone, but for the mages beside her, Frances let out the breath she had been holding.

And instantly stiffened as Jim, who was beside her coughed. “Um, Frances, what do we do if Igraine’s group doesn’t signal us?”

“She will.” Frances gave the possibility a moment’s more thought. “But if she doesn’t, then we’ll investigate. I wouldn’t worry too much. She did set out early, but it’s a long route up the cliff into the mountains.” She checked her helmet straps one more time and pulled out Ivy’s Sting. “Can you please keep watch for a moment?”

“Of course.”

Frances thanked her classmate and shut her eyes, communing with her wand, seeking her companion’s presence and counsel.

Although Ivy’s Sting didn’t feel like she had wanted an apology, Frances had made one anyway. Now, she just took the time to get used to her wand’s soothing presence.

Because while Frances did feel confident about her plan, she was worried. She’d mentioned this to Elizabeth and Martin before and they’d agreed. This attack was not going to be easy. However, they had a good plan. The only thing left was to make it happen.

Ivy’s Sting seemed to think the same, but as Frances listened to her wand's thoughts, she felt it tugging at her. It was as if her wand was trying to tell her something.

“Frances, are you good?”

Looking up, Frances found Nicole and Jim looking at her with worried looks. She nodded and raised her wand. “Yes. Just—” She blinked, her eyes following a bright fire arrow arching into the sky. “That’s our cue. Dog, begin casting.” Taking a deep breath, Frances, having warmed up her throat that morning, started to sing. It was a melody she put together using parts of an Erisdalian tune called “Misty Paths and Dark Woods.” Along the line, the classmates in her group also began to speak words of power, or sing.

Within seconds, a towering wall of mist and fog obscured Freeburg from view.

“Charlie, start blowing. Go! Go!” Nicole yelled, before raising her staff and speaking the words of power. A gentle wind began to blow, whipping Frances’s short hair in front of her face and the mist that was still being created began to blow across the field. The mist was of quite a few different shades, as all seemed to have different ideas of what mist or fog would look like. Some parts seemed to be smoky, others seemed to have a damp humid taste.

Whatever the case, this mist was blown across the field, and up to the walls of Freeburg, where it continued to billow and rise, until, at least from where they stood. The fortress walls were totally obscured from view.

After several minutes, Frances stopped singing and took a deep breath. It was time. There was enough cover.

Oddly enough, she thought she would feel nervous about now. Yet, somehow just like she always did when she was about to fight, she bottled the shivers that made her want to run and put them into somewhere else deep inside of herself.

“Everybody, charge!” she dashed forward. Her boots slapped against the grass, soles thudding against the damp ground. She couldn’t really see much ahead of her, but a quick glance at the line of Otherworlders all running behind her told her she was running roughly straight.

They were all running, far faster than they could ever dream of in their world. When they were twelve and thirteen, they’d been able to run like normal adolescents, but the longer they stayed in Durannon, the stronger thery grew.

Frances wasn’t running that quickly. She could see her some of her mage classmates actually slowing down so to keep pace. The fighters, however, were moving ahead.

There was a crunching sound to Frances’s right. She glanced right, thinking it was a cannon smashing the ground, but instead nearly burst out laughing.

Martin was hanging onto the sled for his dear life, his armoured form bouncing up and down on the wooden skids. Elizabeth with one of her other long-legged classmates called Patrick were towing him as quickly as they could.

“I regret this! I regret this so much!” Martin bellowed. His face was hidden by his clattering visor, but Frances could just picture his alarm.

“Quiet you!” hissed Elizabeth between gasping breaths. Martin wasn’t heavy to her, but maintaining the right pace was not easy. They didn’t need the defenders shooting at the sound of their voices.

But perhaps due to the cover of smoke, the defenders did nothing and the party sprinted up the slope.

The walls quite suddenly loomed out of the fog. Faced with white plaster, they didn’t have machicolations but were still terribly imposing. Frances raised her wand and yelled, “Charlie! Dog! Suppressive fire. Now!” Pointing at the western tower, she sighted the long dark forms that had to be cannons and sang as quickly as she could. She found it hard to draw breath since she was still running, but Edana’s war magic training was paying off.

Ivy’s Sting sparked even before she spoke the last note and a fireball smacked into the battlements, engulfing the cannons. Large figures of orcs scurried away from the merlons. She heard bellowing and screaming, but she was already casting her second spell, aiming it at the mist-obscured forms at the wall top. The mages in the group were all shooting spells, the volume of magic, flashing in all colours, looked like something out of a fireworks display.

Frances sighted the gate, large, wooden, with a steel portcullis in front. She continued to build the power for her spell, jumping from note to note as she reached for the crescendo to her song. Ivy’s Sting hummed in her hand, its presence in her mind giving her slight nudges, hints to how she should sing the notes, little flashes that gave her an idea of how to visualize what she wanted her spell to do.

In this case, she wanted to blast open the gate. Edana had taught her the perfect spell for the occasion, one of her master’s favourite spells actually. Frances had learned however that if she mixed up the songs Edana taught her with little improvisations, she could get a better effect.

Completing the last note, she sent a bright bolt of fire from her wand, crackling almost like lightning. It hit the gate and disappeared.

Frances stared, wondering what had happened. A moment later, the gate exploded, steel ripped asunder and splinters filled the air.

“Nice job!” Nicole yelled. She raised her staff and starting to say a word of power. Frances didn’t reply. She scanned the walls and saw an orc peeking over, crossbow pointed at her fellow mage. She promptly reached for a familiar spell and yanked the orc over the walls, where he fell, screaming.

Even then, Nicole had sent a green-coloured bolt of power into the second gate, smashing it open, albeit, a little less dramatically.

The fighters in Alpha and Charlie groups didn’t need any prompting. They charged in. Frances could see Elizabeth near their head, followed by Martin.

She followed them in, calling for her group to follow them. So far, she hadn’t even heard a single musket or cannon fire. Their assault seemed that successful. Even so, she fired off the green flare, signalling their reinforcements to move up.

Frances found it the same story as she followed her classmates inside. Orcs were rushing down the stairs to try to block the Otherworlder heroes. With their height and strength advantage against normal humans, they could have stood a chance.

Against Otherworlders… some orcs got off one or two strikes, all parried, before a teenager would slew them and push them aside. In a few minutes, the stairs were lined with orcish corpses.

Frances reached the top to see her classmates already grinning with triumph. She smiled too, though, not as gladly.

The orcs were living beings too, they had wives and children. Besides, their task wasn’t over.

“Regroup! Dog and Bravo with me!” she yelled. “Nicole, Martin, get everybody moving!”

She heard a distant “aye-aye” and started running to the western tower but found her path blocked.

“Frances, there’s something wrong.” Frances frowned all ears on Elizabeth, who, seeing Frances’s silent attentiveness stammered, “There isn’t a single musketeer amongst the dead, or musket for that matter. Nor any gunpowder or cannonballs. That’s why they weren’t firing on us.”

Frances frowned. No cannonballs? No gunpowder? But why? The best bet for the defenders was to hit them with cannons. Sure the Alavari were facing an unprecedented number of Otherworlders, but wouldn’t the Alavari find it more important then to defend their walls?

She didn’t have time to make a decision based on this information. They needed to take the bridge, but this was worth taking note of.

“Elizabeth, make sure Martin and Nicole know this…and make all possible speed to the bridge. But tell them to be careful.”

“I will. You take care too!” Elizabeth raced down the walls whilst Frances quickly searched for the tall figure of George, commander of Bravo group.

She found him gathering his fighters into a tight knot and he gave a sharp salute. Frances returned it and quickly explained what Elizabeth had told him.

“Sounds like a trap,” George said.

“Question is where. But we don’t have time to dwell on it. We need to go. Now before the reinforcements arrive.” He nodded and with that, the Otherworlders, split into their attacking squads, and raced down the side-walls of the fortress.

Frances’s group soon reached the Great Tower and after stacking up in a tight line, blasted the door open. George had point, with Frances close behind him he led the way with his shield up.

“Clear!” he yelled. Frances followed, her wand at the ready, but found the hall deserted. It continued ahead and turned sharply right.

George rushed forward, but Frances, already finding the lack of resistance eerie, squeezed by the teenager in front of her and grabbed his shoulder.

“Hold. Something’s wrong. Stack up!” she yelled. The blonde boy nodded, blue eyes bright with realization behind his visor. He raised his shield and sword and advanced more cautiously.

“Right behind you,” said Jim, tapping Frances’s shoulder. She made an affirmative noise in response as she continued behind George, scanning the corridor ahead.

They reached the corner, and George made a quick peek. When he ducked his head behind, he let out a loud exhale.

“Fuck, they have some kind of trap rigged just around the corner, just before the main armoury. I… I can’t make head or tails of it.”

Jim slid forward. “Let me take a look.” Frances stepped out after him, looking ahead.

The trap was complex, with several tripwires strewn on the floor that all seemed to unite and lead under the doorway of a room off to their right. Ahead, Frances could see racks of weapons through a half-open door.

Frances frowned and sang a note to send a bright light to the tip of Ivy’s Sting. As it shone, she noticed there was something wrapped around the door’s handle.

“Jim?” George asked.

“Got it.” The Chinese teenager slit a wire with his dagger, and the mechanism fell limp to the ground. He was about to start, but Frances pressed down on his shoulder.

“One more, on the doorway. See the wire around the handle?” she hissed. Thinking fast, she made a split decision. “We’re losing time. We’re going with Route B. “Bravo and Dog we’re heading through the second courtyard gate! Go!”

They immediately obeyed her, filing backwards out of the Great Tower and racing down the stairs towards the gateway to the second courtyard. Before they left, they made sure to put a big red X on the door, and wrote a message on the floor before for nobody to enter.

“Frances, something’s very wrong. What do we do?” Jim asked from behind.

“Give me a moment. For now, form up and prepare to breach.” She turned to two of the mages in her group. “Rachel, Ophelia, get ready to blast the gate open.” The two girls nodded and began to prepare their spells, as Frances’s mind raced a mile per minute,

“Freeburg Castle fell to treachery two nights ago,” she remembered Edana telling her. She didn’t dare voice her thoughts now. Instead, she took a deep breath. She had to focus on what was important. Divorce her nervousness from what was needed to survive and succeed.

The Great Tower had been trapped. As if they knew their plan. Frances decided to assume that if the Alavari knew it or parts of it, then they must know that part of the assault was to be carried out from above by Igraine’s rangers and the second group of Otherworlders.

Frances looked up towards the cliff. She could see the Otherworlders and rangers rappelling downwards. But there were no sounds of gunfire, of arrows.

Of any battle whatsoever.

Frances gasped as the shocking realization came over her, along with further questions that gripped her muscles with cold, dreadful claws. Where the hell were the Alavari that had taken Freeburg? Why weren’t they resisting? Were they even planning to hold the fortress?

“Frances! What are you doing here?”

She whipped her head around to see Martin running down from the other wall with the rest of his group. “Great Tower was badly booby-trapped. Why are you here?”

“They collapsed the gallery joining the first to the second courtyards. Nobody’s hurt, but there is nowhere to go forward but through the gate!” Martin exclaimed.

The world tilted. Frances’s eyes went wide. She felt like she was near a cliff’s edge, about to fall into an abyss, but without any knowledge of where land was and where the abyss began.

“Oh no. We need to try that second gate now!” Elizabeth screamed.

Hurriedly barked orders had all the mages blasting the courtyard gate, which didn’t smash inwards. It burst outward.

Frances stared as a wave of dirt slithered down in front of where there should have been an open doorway. The mountain of dirt filling the doorway sat down just before the boots of the fighters stacked by the door, mocking them.

At the same time, everybody heard the crack of muskets firing, and the screams of the main attacking force.

“It’s a trap. Just not for us! They’re separating us from the main force. They’re the target!” Elizabeth screamed.