So they were Pel’s subjects.
And they’d been attacked because Pel had attacked the Empire. Not because they’d done anything, but because Pel had attacked the Empire to try to get his family back.
Damn the Empire!
Magic flowed thick and strong here; the matrix hummed through Pel almost as strongly as back in his fortress, and he could sense half a dozen currents of natural energy intersecting just where that Imperial space-warp had come out.
It couldn’t be a coincidence, but how could the Empire have known?
It had to be something in the nature of interdimensional travel, Pel thought. The warp over the Low Forest hadn’t been near any power spots, but the Empire had been aiming that one for a particular place; this new one had probably been allowed to come out wherever it was easy.
Maybe that had some connection with why it was impossible to open two portals near one another.
Whatever the reason, the result was that Pel had all the power he could ask for here, enough to dispose of the Imperial intrusion if he wanted to.
He wondered whether the power spot had any connection with the strange people, then upbraided himself. Of course it did! They were more attuned to magic, he could sense that-not as much as the wizards were, their auras or whatever they were weren’t patterned and formed like regular wizards’, but these people definitely had something magical about them. They must have sited their village here deliberately, to take advantage of it.
Were they all some sort of low-level wizards, then? That was something to investigate.
Right now, though, what they all were was refugees, and the Empire was occupying their village, and it was Pel’s job, as their ruler and protector, to do something about it.
While he had observed and thought through this much, he had passed completely over the Imperial perimeter; now he wheeled back for another pass.
He had to do something about the invasion-but what?
The simplest thing would be to just unleash some of that magic and flash-fry the Imperials, as Shadow had flash-fried Raven and the others in her fortress, but Pel hesitated. That seemed unnecessarily ruthless.
He could twist the warp into nonexistence, he thought-he wasn’t certain, but he thought that it would be possible. That would cut off these soldiers, several hundred of them by the look of it, with nowhere to go, nothing to do but make trouble…not a good idea.
He wanted the Empire to hand over the bodies. He wanted them to see that they didn’t stand a chance. Cutting off the warp and leaving their men alive wouldn’t do that. Simply obliterating the expeditionary force would be more effective-but not quite right, either.
He wanted survivors who would tell the Empire what had happened.
He turned again, this time moving himself toward the rim of the Imperial circle, and began to bend the matrix into the shape he wanted.
* * * *
“What the devil is it?” Lieutenant Miles asked.
“Haven’t the faintest notion,” Puckett replied. The glowing thing had passed directly over the camp, swooped back across, then veered off to one side; now it seemed to be circling their perimeter.
But it wasn’t doing anything, so far as Puckett could see; it flew along at a steady altitude, a few hundred feet up, with all those patterns of light and color and shadow spraying every which way, but doing nothing.
And then something flashed, and someone screamed; Puckett drew his blaster without thinking, swore, and flung it aside, reaching for his sword instead.
Another flash, more screams, and wild shouting, but Puckett still couldn’t see what was happening.
Another flash, and another, and another, moving along below the flying thing, in a great sweeping curve just beyond the Imperial perimeter.
And there were men running, falling back from the perimeter, some retreating in good order, others screaming and running, as the flashes blended into a solid ring of fire.
“What’s happening?” Puckett snapped.
A sergeant saluted from the foot of the steps. “Sir, explosions all along the perimeter! We’re losing men, burned alive-can’t see what’s causing it, there’re no bombs falling, just bang, and some poor fellow goes up in flames.”
“Damn,” Puckett said. “All right, fall back-everyone fall back. Noncombatants to suit up and get back through the warp immediately; combat troops to stand ready. Miles, sergeant, spread the word!”
Puckett watched as his men gathered inward, contracting toward the warp. The flames had closed the circle now, and were beginning to spiral inward-that flying thing was fast.
Another supply team stepped out of the warp just then, their load slung from poles on their shoulders, and stood, staring in astonishment at the surrounding chaos. Puckett grabbed them, turned them around, and shoved them back toward the warp.
“Get back through there!” he shouted. Then he grabbed a man who was about to put on his space helmet, and told him, “Pass the word-no more traffic outbound! Tell them on the other side-we’re doing at least a partial withdrawal! Understand?”
“Yes, sir!” the soldier barked, saluting. Puckett noticed that he wore an engineer’s insignia-that was good; engineers could follow orders.
“Good! Now get that helmet on and get back there!” He slapped the engineer on the back and turned his attention back to the ring of fire.
This looked very bad. Somehow, he didn’t think a partial withdrawal was going to be enough.
* * * *
Pel watched as the last survivors vanished through the warp mere inches ahead of the magical flames, still trying to pull on space suits and helmets; he wondered whether they’d make it to safety across the airless expanse between the warp and the rest of Base One.
Plenty of their comrades hadn’t even made it that far, of course; the broad burned-over expanse outside the contracting circle of flame was covered with drifting black dust, much of which had been Imperial troops.
And their equipment, of course, as well as some of the native plants and a few structures left from the native village.
Now, everything was gone except the warp itself and the steps leading up to it, there in the heart of the flame.
The steel steps melted and sagged, and Pel reached out for the warp itself, and twisted hard, pouring magical force into it, trying to straighten the shape of space itself.
It resisted for several seconds, then gave, and the warp was gone. He had done it; he had closed it.
He wondered what effect that would have on their machinery, back on Base One.
He hoped it wasn’t damaged; then they wouldn’t be able to deliver the bodies until it was repaired.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Pel stood in the center of the blasted clearing and looked around.
This had been a village once, but between the Imperial invasion and his own magical destruction of the invaders, there wasn’t much left-just sand and ash.
He wondered what the villagers would do now.
He was tempted to just leave and let them do it-he had his own problems. He would want to retaliate for the invasion, send a message to the Empire.
But on the other hand, it was his fault the Empire had destroyed their village, and he was their ruler and protector; he should do something to help.
With the matrix, he had the power to help.
And he was curious about who these strange people were, why and how they were linked to the matrix.
He considered what he could do.
He considered building them a new village, the way he had built his treehouse in the Low Forest-but this wasn’t a forest; there were no raw materials to work with here.
Or were there? He looked down.
There was plenty of sand and ash, and the matrix would provide all the heat he could want. What more did he need to make glass?