Suggested Listening

Watching Claron leave, Elruin considered the situation for a moment. Stepping forward, an act which hurt less than it had in the moments before Lyra arrived, Elruin shouted at the retreating conquerer. "Wait!" It still hurt to shout, or to breathe at all, but it was easier. "The people here have nowhere else to go! You'll give them a place to stay, food and shelter. Or..."

She didn't have much leverage, save that he wanted her alive. "Or I'll kill myself. Then what will you do?" For unknown reasons that theologians and preachers loved to speculate upon, suicides could not be revived by any known means of resurrection magic.

"A bluff that I'm tempted to call." Claron stopped, but did not turn to face her. He also used some sort of projection magic to carry his voice far further than a normal voice could carry, let alone the voice of a prepubescent child. "No good person in the city need fear me, nor starvation, nor the elements. I have already set my men to taking control of some of the more opulent homes belonging to the unworthy nobles. Hundreds could live in those mansions, no need for a shanty town and begging for scraps from their former enslavers!"

This was a man who had spent his life as a statesman, he had confidence, charisma, and a message these starving masses wanted to hear. Elruin was losing the crowd, though she didn't recognize it and couldn't have stopped him if she tried.

Claron spread his arms, as if to hug those gathered. "All are equal before Enge, our Emperor, and our Ancestor. Those who hoard wealth and food do so by stealing from his blessed people, and by his blessings, I shall bring their tyranny to an end!"

"You said you were going to fire on them!" Elruin shouted, her little-girl voice small and weak against his.

"I said I was going to fire on you." Claron showed no emotion save passion. "You, who Enge demands be sacrificed. You, a heretic! I offered everyone else a warning, time to get clear so that you could not hide behind them. I suppose I should commend you for allowing your hostages to go free, but would you have done so if you didn't need them? Now that you have that monster as a shield, the rest are little more than extra mouths to feed."

"Of course I would let them go anyway!" Elruin shouted. This was getting far enough out of her control that now she could recognize it, and so she did as any child would do and attempted to deflect the conversation elsewhere. "You're afraid of Lyra!"

"I'm afraid of what happens if it goes out of control, again." Claron spoke to the crowd, rather than the defiant young necromancer. "When we clashed, it was for mere seconds, and it brought down a portion of the wall. I doubt the city could survive the violence necessary to kill that thing."

The people gasped and murmured at the idea that Claron was strong enough to fight Lyra. Few had direct knowledge of the dryad's power, but the Ecrosian priests regarded her as a being of holy power too great for any mortal to challenge. To say nothing of the idea that a segment of the wall was destroyed by accident alone.

There would be skeptics who believed he was lying, some might even voice those doubts, but they would find hundreds of witnesses to the battle. This would discredit the doubters, call into question the wisdom of the priests, the claims of Lyra's greatness, and much of their accepted worldview. The answer to this otherwise impossible paradox would soon occur to some priest: Claron was a god. A lesser god, perhaps, but still a being which towered over mortals.

"Blessed by Enge though I am," Claron said, well aware of the sparks of speculation which would soon become a wildfire. He would have his own spymasters spread the desirable message, if it did not emerge on its own. "Even I cannot protect everyone if the walls go down."

His position solidified despite, perhaps somewhat because of, those who resisted, it was time to leave. Staying longer would accomplish nothing, and may even risk making him look ineffectual. Using a defiant child as an opportunity for an impromptu speech was quite a different thing than actually arguing with a child.

He walked away, shouting orders to the men and women under his command as he went. Gods need not concern themselves with the sexes of those they address, for much the same reason humans didn't show such deference to animals. Those leaving the shelter, save the necromancer, would be free to go unharmed. Meanwhile, food and medical supplies confiscated from the city's own nobility would be provided in full view of those hiding behind their magical barrier. He could not attack them directly, so he would sap their morale.

Many within the bounds of the shelter retreated from an area that was the safest place within the city, but a remarkable number stayed behind. Children without parents to protect them, women who feared Claron's men would take the traditional rewards of a conquering army, men who had nowhere else to go. All had their reasons, and even the insistence of Elruin and Erra was not enough to dissuade them.

Soon, they were forced to address their situation. Food would last a week, maybe two at this rate, and water was unreliable at best. The one saving grace, such as it was, is that they now had plenty of space to work with and an almost limitless supply of necromantic energy to call upon. Not that Elruin knew how that would be useful in this situation.

Suggested Listening

"Grandmother, what shall we do?"

The camp's unofficial leader looked at the young woman. "I should ask you that, dear. You're in charge, now."

Erra blinked, starred at the woman. "But this is your camp."

The old woman smiled. "Lyra has chosen you, dear." She reached toward the dryad, who approached and allowed herself to be scratched on the back of the head. This act seemed enough to reinvigorate the woman. "Guide her hand as Rena failed to do."

"Hey!" Elruin cut in. "Rena was a nice lady!"

"Rena was a fine woman, a loving soul who never said a bad word about anyone," Grandmother said to the little necromancer. "But she lacked the ambition to live up to her predecessors. I'm old enough to remember some of Lyra's past minders. They were vigorous, vibrant women of boundless imagination and hope for the future. We need a woman like them, today."

"But." Erra looked at the dryad, which was content to sit and accept her hair being pet. "I don't want that sort of power."

Grandmother chuckled. "Child, if you wanted Lyra's power, she would never have chosen you. The dryad has never taken a handler who wanted power. The church likes to keep that a secret. No small number of women start 'discovering faith' when a handler grows old. Some, perhaps, are even genuine in their belief that they can do great good with Lyra's help, but the act of wanting that power places it outside their reach forever. I imagine they wouldn't donate so much time and money if they knew that little secret."

"You have to," Elruin said. "We need Lyra's help."

"Now more than ever," Grandmother agreed. "But it must be Erra's decision."

The two dozen people of two hundred who remained had gathered around to listen to the story, or just to see what the excitement was about. Erra looked out at them: some friends, some family, some strangers, but all had chosen to stay in this prison knowing the risk. "We'll start with what we need most," she said. "We have supplies, but without being able to bring in more timber for warmth we only have so long."

"I can help!" Elruin said. Fundamental magic wasn't great on the offense, but it could generate basic heat. Besides, she still had a sarite shard which could create lightning.

Erra nodded. "Medicine won't be needed as long as Lyra's around. Our problems are going to be food and water, which we will run low on, especially if Claron orders his mages to prevent it from raining on our shelter." Erra knelt down behind the little dryad, who was content kneeling in front of Grandmother. "Lyra, if you can understand me, can you give us food and water?"

The dryad's eyes had never closed, for she had no eyelids, but her head did snap up as she considered the emotions of her new human. She flitted into the sky moments later, while everyone in and out of the forming barricade watched. The soldiers reading their spears and bows, as if such weapons were more than mere cobwebs to be brushed aside.

She flew like a dragonfly around the central pillar, then moved to the far side of the pillar from the bubble of concentrated death energies.

The soil rumble beneath their feet, as the song of magic rose in Elruin's ears. Lyra didn't sing, she didn't need to Reveal, she used magic the way humans used their heartbeats. Strings of moss that formed Lyra's hair fell and were caught in a whirlwind until they spiraled all the way to the ground. Then they erupted into life, vines climbing their way up into the sky on invisible trellises.

The pillars of life spread, found one another, wove themselves together, and created a single wall, a broad and squat hollow tree. Long, narrow branches like those of a willow rolled down, curtains of greenery which pulsed with life energy. Lyra, deciding her work was finished, flew into the jungle of soft branches to take a well-earned nap. Her human could have the rest of the tree, but the boughs belonged to her.

Within, Elruin could see that there was a living floorplan, hexagonal rooms like those of a bee hive. "There's room inside for everyone," she said. "And I bet those vines are edible, just like they were at Cali's place."

She didn't know it, but the trunk would serve as excellent insulation, enough that they would rarely need to rely on her power to warm the building. Nor could she know that Lyra also mirrored the techniques of termite colonies to cycle dirty air out and fresh air in. It was a triumph of magical engineering built off the triumphs of natural engineering, a perfect home for her human.

Erra reminded herself to breathe, and fought down panic. To control power on such a scale was something she imagined belonged only to gods, yet here she stood with such a being at her command. She knew now why Lyra chose people who did not want her power; the ones who did could use her to reshape the world.

Unable to stop her voice from shaking, she gave orders. "Everyone, help one another move indoors. The elders get the rooms nearest the entrance, children near the back. Healthy adults on the second level, unless you need to stay with a child or elder. And with Lyra here, I think all adults will be healthy soon."

As they went to work, a large gray canine with a burnt mouth limped toward the entrance. "You make all the most interesting friends."

Erra stared at the beast, her spell of awe broken in the face of the mangled predator. "Is this... yours?" Mork weren't known for their brilliance, but they were intelligent enough to speak, so she didn't want to be rude.

"Nah, it's mine," a ghostly black face came up through the eye of the beast. "I'm with her, though. Name's Scratch, 'till I get bored with it. Figure if we're gonna be here a while, I'd better get acquainted with the landlady. While her bodyguard is taking a break."

"I'm not a lady." In one day, Erra had gone from an unimportant woman who was single because she wasn't important enough to marry, to one of the most powerful people in the empire, with all sorts of supernatural beings showing interest in her. "What are you?"

"You are, now," Scratch said. "As for what I am? Well, that's a difficult philosophical and thaumaturgical question. What I ain't is a philosopher or thaumaturge, that I can say for certain. Suffice it to say I'm a distant relative of your pet. About as distant as a snake is to a dragon. I'm the snake, if that wasn't obvious by me skulking about in this husk while she's bending nature over like a whore."

"Scratch is..." Elruin was about to say he was nice, but she knew better. "He's helped me lots. I'm sure he wants to help you, too."

"Like what, exactly?"

"First, to clear matters up, I work for Elruin, not you," Scratch said. "But since you were kind enough not to truss her up and hand her over like a fresh goose, I'm willing to help with one thing I know she can't do. I can get messages to and from the outside."

"You can?"

"Within reason," Scratch added. "I can't use magic to find people, so you need to be clear where I'm going and who I'm talking to. And while I can sneak past these guards, don't expect me to be getting through the wall, or antimagic prisons. Normal people, normal messages. And I need one promise from you."

"You like being mysterious, don't you?" Erra asked. "I'm not giving promises without knowing what they are ahead of time."

"Figured, but had to try," Scratch said. "Just convince your dryad to ignore me, is all. I've met beings like her before, they can get territorial, and trust me when I say I don't stand a ghost of a chance against her. I'll stay over on the opposite side of the camp, you come visit me if you need anything, and we'll pool our resources to fix our problems once and for all. Deal?"

It wasn't lost on Elruin that the opposite side of the camp was where they kept the sick houses, and thus the pooled death energies.

Erra, too, recognized where Scratch would be staying, which she considered fine since it was the least desirable part of the camp. Perhaps Lyra could fix it with time, but for now it dry, good-for-nothing soil. "Don't pull anything that hurts us, and you have a deal."

"Deal, but remember, I'm here with Elruin. Betray her and we'll have problems."

Erra looked at the dark-haired girl who had done nothing wrong save earn the ire of a violent nobleman with delusions of grandeur. "Don't worry, I won't let anyone hurt her here." With Lyra around, Erra could enforce such a promise. "But I can think of a handful of ways to use your abilities. Starting with Priestess Lissa."