I’m hit by a tsunami of responses and a tumult of emotions. Relief. Anger. Sorrow. Black fury. Hope. Most of the anger is directed at the invaders, but I don’t think I’m imagining the hints of recrimination that I wasn’t here when they needed me. Or perhaps I’m projecting.

  It takes a while to catch up with the others – telling them a quick summary of our trip down to the village which turned out to be a distraction drawing the most combat-capable away from the village, and hearing about the attack from their perspective. Flying-blade definitely timed the attack well – most of the Pathwalkers were meditating in the den at the time of the attack, as were a good third of our Warriors.

  I can only think that Flying-blade was intending on sweeping through the village with little resistance, killing or capturing the samurans there and then perhaps ambushing the others when they returned. The accounts shared by my people indicate that she wasn’t expecting as much resistance from the Unevolved as the invaders encountered. Whether she knew of the den or not, I don’t know. She shouldn’t have, but her attack seems to be disturbingly well-timed – observation or inside information?

  I hate to consider that latter, but when even Kalanthia is apparently missing, what can I think? It’s not unusual for Kalanthia to go on a hunt, but that it’s happening now? Suspicious. Raven also hasn’t shown himself despite the attack on my den – much good our Alliance has proven to be in this case! Though, with all these ‘coincidences’ I can’t help but fear for the worst.

  But if Flying-blade was capable of taking out two Tier threes, then we wouldn’t stand a chance. The village would already be lost. That this clearly isn’t the case indicates that Flying-blade might not have a hand in Kalanthia and Raven’s absences. Not directly, anyway. It doesn’t stop me worrying.

  They’re here for a total village takeover, Hunter tells me grimly. Flying-blade told us when she had the four of us trapped – myself, Smith…Weaver and Fire-whisperer. Markus…she’s…they’re….

  I know, I respond grimly. I saw Flicks’ body. Grief sparks over the Bonds between me and several of the samurans at the thought. She might not have been a Pathwalker long, but she’d been a villager all her life. But Joy is alive, I think. She’s tied up near Healer. From what survivors said in the village, Flicks wouldn’t give up until the last. I think they killed her because they couldn’t stop her any other way.

  She was always determined, Happy tells me, the feelings pouring over the Bond from her direction the opposite of my nickname for her. She refused to give up. Ever.

  Nor did so many others, I remind them gently. Flicks might be the most impactful of the deaths, but she certainly wasn’t the only one. We saw how hard the Warriors and Unevolved both resisted the invaders.

  They did, Hunter agrees soberly. They defended us to the last, never begrudging us their lives as long as we got away. And we did, only to be stuck in this little hole like click-grunt-flash-of-yellow in their burrows. But we know that it’s better to force them to us than to go to them. Her tone is frustrated.

  You won’t be stuck for long, I vow to them. We’re coming for them – Flying-blade has underestimated us for the last time.

  Flying-blade thinks that she can run a total takeover in my village? Thinks that she can completely destroy my village by capturing my Pathwalkers, killing my Warriors, and scattering any Unevolved or hatchlings that they don’t kill outright? She thinks that she can remove the threat that my village poses to her own by striking first?

  She’s going to learn that she’s made a big mistake.

  Anticipation coils with rage as we cross the final metres and enter the vine-stranglers properly.

  Already, the forest is picking itself up again, fallen trees being pulled into the earth by roots that break up the still half-frozen ground, their positions replaced by new shoots that practically grow before my eyes.

  It meets me with a sense of indignation as we come into range.

  ‘They attacked me!’ it exclaims as soon as I reach out to make contact.

  ‘I know,’ I assure it, sharing my own sense of pure rage. ‘And we’re going to attack them. Make sure you don’t hurt any of my companions ‘accidentally’ now,’ I warn it as we choose to walk through the upright trees rather than being obvious on the path which has been blasted apart by the enemy’s attacks.

  While we travel, I send tendrils of magic through the earth, finally discovering an explanation for why the Earth-Shaper among Flying-blade’s number hasn’t just collapsed the whole thing on my Bound’s heads – even though Kalanthia doesn’t seem to be physically present, she’s left an imprint which a Tier two would find hard to counter, bolstered by the recently-Evolved Earth-Shaper among our number.

  Though I can feel that her control over the earth is far weaker than the invading Earth-Shaper – Earth is one of those elements where time really is an important factor – her familiarity with the area and Kalanthia’s imprint allow her to protect our people from the most obvious attacks of the invaders. The roots which are probably trying to do the same to the cavern below as they did to the huts in the village are also being stymied by countermeasures from Flower. But Jumpy – since her original name was Jumps-over-a-branch – is young and so her use of mana is less than efficient; she’s tiring quickly.

  Can you hold on for a few more minutes? I check with Jumpy.

  Yes, she answers shortly, her mental voice strained.

  I gave her a mana regeneration potion, Tarra informs me.

  Good idea, I praise her. I’ll need your help. Have you got your darts ready?

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  Ready and waiting, she confirms grimly. I smile humourlessly.

  The enemy now coming into view, my party spreads apart, everyone slowing down and engaging whatever stealth – or Stealth – abilities we have so our movement doesn’t attract any attention. While River, Yells, Healer, Catch, and Poison stay with me, the others spread out sideways – we don’t want to let a single enemy escape. They might think that they have my Bound trapped, but I’ll show them that the reverse is true.

  After all, the risk of a takeover goes both ways. The target village can be wiped out and subsumed into the invading force, and usually is. But equally, if the invading force bites off more than they can chew, they can themselves be conquered. Especially when the village they’ve attacked has a Tamer who can Bind even samurans.

  We are as stealthy as we can be, creeping up on the band of enemies now fully in view. The trees are actually helping us – multiple times I notice the earth shifting in front of my feet, allowing me to step on bare earth rather than a twig or leaf. We’re also fortunate that the samurans seem to be entirely focussed on the den in front of them, and why not?

  They know that the village they invaded first has been swept clean of defenders, and that any samurans coming in from the forest would be more likely to run and hide rather than pursue the attackers. And they think that I’m long gone, a day’s journey away, hunting for or fighting a Tier three that their allies had lured in close. Those who do look back are watching in case the trees try to attack them from behind again rather than for pursuers.

  Alright everyone, I say once we’re close enough. On three. One. Two. Three.

  A crushing wave of water bulldozes into the samurans from one side just as a tempest of wind strikes them from the other. As they’re sent reeling and off balance, I strike myself.

  Using the tempest of wind from Windy as fuel for my power, I create an inferno of flame. I have to fight briefly for control – the wind came from Windy, the fire from me, and her magic is stronger than mine is. But, a moment of wordless communication later, she gives in to me, quickly whipping up another tempest to terrorise the invaders with.

  Unimpeded, I direct the immense fireball that the inferno has become into the biggest group of Warriors. I hear their screams and smell the odor of cooking meat as my fire burns through their scales and sears the flesh below.

  Disgust and satisfaction war for dominance within my belly as I feed ever more magic into the fireball, its centre lightening to a pale yellow as its temperature rises. Tendrils strike out, lighting two of the Pathwalkers on fire too, their decorative necklaces and chest-strings becoming paths for my flames to follow.

  And then a cry rings out through my mind.

  Tamer! You’re burning me! Joy. A wave of guilt crashes through me – for a moment I had forgotten that she was present.

  I’ve got her, Markus, Catch cries, but I sense his pain as my flames lick at his scales. I also become aware of my people underground – they’re feeling weaker and weaker as every moment passes. And I know why – the flames must be drawing oxygen from them too.

  The fires of my wrath die, the actual flames vanishing too. Destroying my enemies isn’t worth hurting my allies. I need to take another approach. Putting the fear of the life-devourer into the invaders is one thing, but I actually want to end this fight. Fortunately, I have more than one element to play with.

  Reaching out, I link with Yells. Wordlessly communicating my idea to her, I feel her agreement. Before the singed or outright burnt Warriors can react to the disappearance of the fires which had been consuming them, I pour magic into the earth beneath their feet.

  Opening up rifts beneath each of the samurans, I drop them into pits just deep enough to trap them up to their necks. I don’t aim to kill them, but I don’t bother taking the time to be really careful with them. Injury is almost definite, deaths of at least a few are probably likely. My Inspect tells me that at least seven of them are already dead, so I leave those as bodies on the ground, not wasting the mana to entomb them. Once the group of fifteen Warriors who were hit by my initial strike are neutralised, I take a moment to see what else has happened on the battlefield.

  The invaders, taken off-guard, burnt and battered by water and wind have still reacted with almost-admirable speed. The Warriors who I didn’t attack are battling fiercely with my Bound. The samurans who survived the fight in the village, Bastet, Lathani, the other raptorcats, Fenrir, Artemis, Poison, and the third Warrior I brought back with me, they’re stopping the Warriors from attacking the Pathwalkers who are themselves locked in battle with the enemy Pathwalkers.

  I feel Dusty struggle: the other Water-Shaper is older and more practised in their shared element than she is. Still, she has the edge because she summoned the water in the first place. That advantage is lost a moment later when Water-former joins in on the attack. When Ice-shaper also gangs up on my lone Pathwalker, she becomes hopelessly outmatched.

  Yells, help her, I order brusquely seeing that Dusty needs the help more than I do. The Pathwalker wordlessly agrees, and I sense her using the Bond network to offer that help even before she physically starts moving towards Dusty. At the same time, I grit my teeth and push through the resistance in the earth caused by the enemy Earth-Shaper to reach the ground beneath the fighting Pathwalkers. It’s far enough away from where I’m standing and there’s enough resistance that I can’t just drop the lot of them into the earth, but I can at least intervene in some way.

  Seizing the moment, I soften the ground beneath the enemy Water-Shaper’s feet, making her sink in to her ankles. She was moving at the time, so she falls forwards, unable to catch herself. Based on her angle of falling, I force my way through the enemy Earth-Shaper’s magic to extend a spike from the earth with a determined cry.

  My calculations are perfect. The Pathwalker doesn’t even see the spike before it’s piercing through the roof of her mouth. She jerks several times and then goes still. I bend over and lean on my knees, temporarily mentally spent, even if I still have mana available.

  When I’ve caught my breath, I push myself back upright. With one of the enemy Pathwalkers down, most likely already dead, and Yells on her team, Dusty is holding her own now. I’m confident that she’ll be fine, at least until the others join the fight. I tiredly look at the other battles that are going on.

  Although the invaders don’t have any Wind-Shaper to counter Windy, they’re doing their best to counter her in otherways. Plants are rapidly sprouting from the ground to act as a windbreak and their Earth-Shaper has given up on her attempts of actively attacking the den in order to raise walls to deflect the howling gale which threatens to throw them all off balance. It’s a good strategy, though when Windy just changes the angle of attack, her gale becoming more like a tornado which swirls around the windbreak and deflecting walls, it’s proven rather inadequate.

  No lightning, remember, I warn Windy as I see some ominous flashing at the top of the tornado. She sends me a wordless, and disgruntled acknowledgement and the flashing dies away. Not that I care about flash-frying the invaders but Windy still hasn’t gained pin-point accuracy with her strikes. With so many of our own people around, I don’t want to risk her accidentally hitting one of us.

  Seeing that the Pathwalkers are at least managing to hold their own even if victory definitely isn’t assured, I continue to focus my attention on the Warriors, finishing the job of dropping them into the earth where they’ll be out of trouble. And if someone accidentally steps on them while they’re trapped, I won’t be too upset. Without Yells’ enhancement, I’m a little slower, but not enough to change things by much.

  As the numbers of enemy Warriors dwindle, my Bound are able to do more than just prevent them from attacking our Pathwalkers. Sharp blades of air shoot out, knocking the remaining Warriors to the ground where it’s easy for me to drop them into a prison.

  We work together as a seamless team, the battle seeming increasingly in our favour.

  And then I see Catch go down, a wooden blade through his eye even as similar ones slice at several more of my Bound, though none create wounds anywhere near as serious as his. I shout in fury, tiredness forgotten as I rush forwards to immediately get my hands on him.

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