Tala was surprisingly well rested, despite the stressful circumstances.

The long day had turned into a long night, but everyone aside from Mistress Odera and the drivers had gotten more than a full night’s sleep, at the Mage’s insistence. Even the drivers had been switched out to get the rest that they needed, even if less than would have been ideal.

As morning passed and drew ever closer to noon, Tala knew that Mistress Odera couldn’t hold on much longer. They still weren’t out of the forest despite their best efforts, and even if they did make it before the Mage had to drop her shield, it would be a near thing.

They really couldn’t risk that disaster. Normally, Tala would have left the dealing of the issue to others, but Tala wasn’t willing to risk that either.

What would Mistress Odera do, if our positions were reversed? Tala looked around at their caravan, the guards, their crossbows, and the surrounding Leshkin, barely obscured by the rippling, blue-tinted shield. After a moment’s thought, a grin spread over her face, the seed of an idea manifesting. That just might work.

The nugget of inspiration firmly in mind, she went to talk with Rane and the Guard Captain. Thankfully, her idea was simple enough that they readily agreed, helping to fill in the details and preparing for the fight to come.

It wasn’t a truly new idea. In fact, if Mistress Odera’s shield had been easier to drop and re-raise, they likely would have been doing something similar all along. Well, that and if they could be sure the Leshkin wouldn’t just return in short order.

By the time the sun was directly overhead, and Mistress Odera was swaying, all preparations were in place for the bursting of the bubble.

The older woman’s voice came to Tala’s ear. “I can only hold on for another minute or so, Mistress Tala, prepare.”

Tala nodded. “Already done.” She looked to the crossbowmen crowding the wagon top. “Soon, now.”

They fell into position, the front-rank kneeling and the second rank moving up to stand right behind them.

Each guard had a pre-cocked and loaded crossbow ready to hand, in addition to the one in their hands, and they each had a primary and secondary target preselected and assigned.

They each also had anti-Leshkin spears and broad shields arranged on the wagon-top within easy reach.

The chuckwagon had a similar complement of ready guards. Rane stood at the back edge of that wagon top, ready to take out his assigned targets and then to engage any surviving enemies as needed.

He also had his massive harvest bag slung over one shoulder. If the opportunity presented itself, he was going to grab as much as he could from the Leshkin juggernauts.

The drum-like reverberations of impacts to their shield continued unabated, their enemy either unaware, or uncaring, that the situation was about to change.

As Tala did one more sweep of their surroundings, focusing to see through the active shield the best that she was able, she caught a glimpse of something glimmering ahead of them. She looked closer, her eyes starting to ache from the strain. Sunlit grass?

“We’re almost to the edge of the forest!” She glanced to Tion. “Plan B.” Plan A had assumed they’d need to continue at a steady pace for an unknown length of time.

The driver nodded her way in acknowledgement. Under plan B, he would force the oxen to their top speed, something they couldn’t maintain for very long.

They’d have to rest a short way into the plains, but they would be free of the forest. Finally, blessedly free.

There was also a danger that the mass of their magic going faster than recommended would draw down a creature of magic on them, but they’d agreed that the small chance of that was an acceptable risk.

Mistress Odera started to cough. “I’m sorry. That’s all I have.” Her eyes snapped open, but they were blank, the woman already unconscious.

As the Mage tumbled backwards, a ready and waiting servant caught her and lowered her gently down on a pad behind her.

The magical, bubble-like shield burst, and Tala yelled. “Fire!”

The simultaneous click, twang of so many crossbows was almost deafeningly loud. The almost instantaneous responding wet thunk of the bolts striking home in Leshkin foliage brought an irresistible smile to Tala’s face.

Leshkin weapons swept through open air, and the giants found themselves unbalanced as their intended attacks on the shield protecting their prey was suddenly met with no resistance.

Rane lunged off the back of the chuckwagon, even as the vehicles picked up speed.

Since each juggernaut took eight bolts to be overwhelmed by the inscriptions, the first volley only dropped five of the mammoth creatures. Each guard let their fired crossbow fall to catch on its strap as they raised their second weapon.

“Aim!” After a single, quick breath, during which Tala ensured all the guards were ready, she bellowed, “Fire!”

A second, slightly less unified wave of bolts took down five more juggernauts.

Rane, still airborne from his powerful leap, swept Force in a precise arc, beheading two juggernauts, something he could never have done from the ground.

Twelve down. Her gaze searched the dimly lit terrain around them, searching for the remaining opponents.

The guards reloaded and fired as quickly as they were able, falling into the second phase of Tala’s plan, even as Rane verified that no Leshkin that he needed to deal with were close and pulled on his big-game harvest bag, scooping up the first two piles of Leshkin remnants, securing the juggernauts’ armor and weapons, along with the guard’s bolts within the piles of vegetation that used to be their attackers. They’d get rid of the plant matter when they had more time.

Tala had finished her quick sweep of the battlefield. They were surrounded by a small army, mostly knights, but a few more juggernauts were beginning their charge forwards. In the distance, she thought she saw more movement, but it was far enough away, and there were sufficient enemies close at hand, that she filed the sight away as non-critical.

Tala lifted her right hand, two fingers to the sky, and locked onto the closest two juggernauts. The two that were about to slam their weapons into the back of the chuckwagon.

The two that Rane had trusted to her care. A smile tugged at her lips.

These two were hers, now. Crush.

The automatic compounding was too slow, so she triggered the ability manually, again. Crush.

She couldn’t let them break apart and ruin her casting. Crush.

She would ensure her magics took their toll. Crush.

The four near instantaneous castings on two targets tore away eight of her remaining nine rings, and obliterated the two Leshkin she’d targeted, sending their spirits off to respawn as effectively as the enchanted bolts would have.

The timing was such that Rane was able to scoop up the remains of those two next, before he continued around the caravan to gather what he could.

The guards were sending a steady spray of quarrels outward into the surrounding knights. They were working in blocks to select targets and bring them down with systematic efficiency. So, even with a requirement of four bolts per Leskin of that form, the plant bodied-creatures fell in droves.

Tala verified that their path was relatively clear ahead, and the guards with good line of sight in that direction were ensuring that the few Leshkin in the path of the wagons' headlong rush were primary targets.

Rane had finished his harvesting frenzy and was engaging any Leshkin group that seemed in danger of drawing too close.

She let out a long breath, allowing her tension to ease, if just slightly. This is working. We’re doing it!

Overhead, one of the massive, far-reaching branches creaked and swayed, causing the light filtering down to flicker and move oddly.

Tala looked up in time to see a tide of humanoid vegetation dropping towards their heads like a massive stalactite of death.

“Above!” Rust you, Tala, you had to ruin it, thinking we were in the clear.

The back line of guards immediately bent down to grab spear and shield, rushing to raise them against the new avenue of assault.

On pure instinct, Tala lifted her right hand, locking onto one of the foremost Leskhin, an ax wielding knight that was almost directly overhead. Restrain.

Her final golden ring burned away, and her working stole the Leshkin’s kinetic energy, jerking it to a halt, midair. That energy was then repurposed to calculate and apply the exact level of gravity necessary to maintain that beast’s current position as a stable orbit.

The knight was still for only an instant before those behind it began to slam into and bounce off it. Since the magics were still at work, continuing to drain away its kinetic energy to feed the working, fighting to set the Leshkin into a fixed position, it wasn’t forced downward just yet, despite the cascade of bodies ramming into it.

The actual effect was to cause something comically similar to inserting a spoon into a stream of water as each knight tumbled into those next to it.

The net effect was to prevent any from landing directly on the cargo-wagon’s roof.

The chuckwagon was not so lucky.

If only I’d still had another casting. Another idea came to her, then, and she began delving through her seemingly useless Crush and Restrain scriptings. Maybe…

Thankfully, that roof had a larger complement of guards, given that they’d not had to leave room for Mistress Odera or the servant meant to care for her. The Leshkin landing there were met with an interlocking platform of shields, bristling with inscribed spears.

Even so, the impact bowed the defenses, and one of the crossbowmen was pushed off the side of the roof by the pressure of the inner guards having to bend down under the impacts.

Another Guard, Carl, shouted in alarm, lunging outward to snag the flailing woman and throw her back.

Unfortunately, that meant that he was now falling in her stead.

Tala watched in horror as Carl slammed into the ground, all the breath seemingly driven from him.

The woman he’d saved spun, reloading her crossbow and rallying her block to target the Leshkin bearing down on Carl, even as they crouched under the shields held aloft by their brethren.

The crossbowmen on the cargo-wagon facing the other vehicle focused on the enemies that had survived atop the bristling defense. There were a worrying number, even so. For the moment, they were held up on well braced shields, but that couldn’t last, as Carl’s situation clearly demonstrated.

The wagons were continuing at their rapid pace, almost as fast as Tala would have jogged, and Carl would soon be left behind.

Tala had a moment to consider before she cursed and jumped free of her wagon, giving a screech that was as close to a Leshkin’s cry as a human could produce.

Every enemy head snapped to orient towards her.

Initially, this allowed the guards to continue reaping their vegetative harvest, but as Tala landed in a roll, the true result quickly became clear.

Answering screams assaulted the humans, disorienting most of the guards, and even breaking some eardrums.

Every Leshkin turned fully towards her and moved.

Some simply ran, others launched themselves in her direction, and they all maintained a lock on her, the best that they could. They still struck at the guards near them.

Tala staggered, the inscriptions surrounding her ears protected her from direct damage, but the sound was still startling enough that it fouled her footing for a step. In the end, she came out just a bit better than the average guard.

She couldn’t see what had become of Carl, but she had other things that were far more pressing for her at the moment.

She dove to the side, avoiding a pouncing cluster of knights, and as she came to her feet, she saw the sheer magnitude of what she was facing.

Well…Rust.

There were at least a hundred knights remaining, and three juggernauts that she could see easily, all incoming.

I can’t outrun that; I certainly can’t fight through it. She had an instant of panic, then a calm washed over her, and she knew what she needed to do.

After only a moment’s hesitation, Tala turned, unclipping her anchor, and threw the empowered device with all of her considerable might.

She’d aimed carefully between trees to the northeast, away from the heading of the caravan, but still closer to the edge of the forest.

I hope. It wasn’t like the forest ended on a perfect latitude line.

In a nauseating blur, she streaked through the trees. More than anything, it felt like falling in a twisting, nauseating tumble. She slammed into the ground, coming to a stop at least a hundred yards from the caravan.

I gained downward velocity through the whole of the Anchor’s arc? That did make a sort of sense, she supposed.

Unfortunately, her desperate thinking wasn’t enough to distract her body from what had just transpired. Tala violently tried to vomit but was prevented by her inscriptions.

It felt akin to someone preventing her from inhaling toxic fumes by punching her in the throat: it was probably better than the alternative, but the difference might well just be academic.

Leshkin cries of rage sounded behind her, and she screeched back, around her dry heaving, afraid that they would reorient on the caravan with her suddenly farther away.

She turned to glance over her shoulder, her entire body shuddering at the repressed expulsions, and found her fears were unfounded.

The enemy was in hot pursuit.

Of all things, it almost looked like the juggernauts were picking up knights.

No. Her eyes widened as the first massive Leshkin cocked back to throw its payload.

Terry flickered into being beside her, sized for riding. He trilled, nudging her with his head, trying to help her stand.

Tala felt herself laughing manically as she quickly snapped up her anchor from the ground, where it had fallen, and clipped it to Terry’s collar. She hopped on his back as the first knight crashed into the ground beside her, pulverized into near dissolution.

Unfortunately, they had enough latent power to pull back together and lunge towards Terry and Tala.

The avian ducked under the first attack and shot off into the woods, Tala tucking down against his neck.

“Go north! Terry, where are you going!” She started patting his neck, trying to get his attention, as if he wasn’t well aware of her, and where she was.

Terry squawked back at her, and she looked behind just in time to see a series of seven knights crash across what would have been their clearest path to the north.

I didn’t see those incoming, they likely would have slammed right into us, if we’d gone north. She briefly considered using her gravity alteration inscriptions on their pursuers, but knew that they wouldn’t be useful. Best case, I’d increase the number of enemies trailing us, even if it did mean they were weaker as individuals.

There had apparently been flanking forces of Leshkin lessers moving through the forest parallel to the caravans, and they were now screening off easy escape.

Oh, that’s the distant movement I saw…yay me? She growled.

Well, at least the caravan will get free. They’re probably close enough to Bandfast that they might make it with an hour or two to unload, if they’re quick about it and don’t stop to rest. She found herself unsurprisingly at peace with the idea of dying to let the caravan survive.

She didn’t want to die, but she didn’t find that she was really mad about it either. Huh, I suppose that’s progress? I actually don’t want to die.

Terry, for his part, was showing how he’d survived for so long.

He darted around trees, even using his massively powerful legs to run up trees a good ways before vaulting off to clear groups of incoming Leshkin.

Tala had Flow in hand, lashing out at any enemies who drew within striking distance of any of its forms. Though she didn’t have training in mounted combat, Tala was able to move Flow through the more maneuverable shapes, allowing her to reposition her weapon with ease to strike in almost any direction.

Her tungsten rod and sphere were likewise moving around her to foil enemy advances, but she wasn’t nearly as effective with them, as they were still new tools in her arsenal.

She made a mental note to add mounted combat to the list of things to work on if she survived.

You know, I can definitely imagine burning all these rusting tree-people. Maybe, I should try to get some fire inscriptions… She then immediately threw the idea aside. Fire was too hard to control properly. It was sloppy, and weirdly weaker than she’d have assumed or wished.

She still remembered an odd demonstration where a Mage at the academy had turned a powerful flame on a block of ice.

Tala, young and naive, had expected the ice to flash boil in a glorious explosion. Young Tala had wanted to burn things, allowing the fantasies of such to drive her towards understanding her keystone. After all, only after the keystone was complete, could she get other magics.

But her hopes were crushed that day. Sure, the ice lost in the end, but it took hours to melt down that person-sized block of ice.

That particular lesson had been focusing on something about heat capacity, but what young Tala had taken from the instruction was that fire was lame.

It would have been like watching a bunch of guards struggle to overcome a mundane rabbit: Disgustingly disappointing.

Terry lunged to the right, pulling Tala’s focus back to the present.

Flow, in the shape of a glaive, cut down a particularly pernicious lesser, and they were suddenly in the clear, at least with regard to enemies.

They were, however, once again deep into the forest.

The Leshkin were still close on their heels, but Terry could outrun them in a race.

They were in the clear.

Tala grinned in relief.

Just then, a whip, skillfully wielded by a juggernaut, cracked out, wrapping around her waist and jerking her from Terry’s back.

She had one thought as her grip was broken and she lost her seat atop her avian friend.

You just couldn’t have rusting waited to celebrate, could you…