Soren undid the latch with quick fingers. “Have you only seen revenants?”
“So far. That’s not to say something worse isn’t on the way.”
Soren loaded grenades into the launcher while Mara adjusted the sights to aim at the shore. The release for the first volley was loud, the explosion that followed louder still. Soren didn’t have any ear coverings, and the ringing that afflicted him after each launch was something he could only ignore. Right now, the defense of the island and the eradication of revenants was all that mattered.
The warning sirens never changed pitch, only sounding for revenants over the next hour as the wardens eradicated the threat with bullets, poison, and grenades. No return fire ever hit the fort’s walls, and no airships or ground forces were ever seen in the sky or on the far shore. The threat this time around was normal in the grand scheme of things, even if the number of revenants blown to bits on the shore was double what they should be.
When the sirens blared the all clear, Soren rocked back on his heels where he crouched by the grenade launcher, eyeing the fully empty crate he’d kicked to the side and the one that was only half full. Mara had worked the grenade launcher with a deft hand, picking and choosing her targets to do the most damage.
Soren leaned toward the open window and peered out at the beach in the distance. The number of body parts strewn across the pockmarked sand was more than he could remember seeing in the past. “It’s going to be a lot of bodies to burn.”
Mara stood and placed her hands behind her hips, leaning backward to crack her spine. “If only we had that Ashion girl to burn them all for us.”
Soren went still, gaze cutting back to Mara. “The one with starfire?”
Mara nodded, ignorant of the way Soren’s heart rate sped up. “I was a tithe last year during the attack but old enough to get put on wall duty. Caris used starfire to incinerate all the revenants on the shore. It burned so hot some of the sand turned to glass. We’re still finding pieces of it in the ground.”
He turned away from the window in favor of completing inventory of their ordnance. “I heard she incinerated the entire beach.”
“She casts starfire in a way I’ve heard people say hasn’t been seen in generations outside Eimarille.” Mara shrugged, cranking the grenade launcher back into its default position. “But I’m no magician, so who knows what’s true in that regard? Still, having starfire to burn the dead would make cleanup go quicker.”
Soren only nodded at that, fingers flexing as he sorted the crates and made a note on the logbook of what inventory was used. He’d complete the other column once he returned with the grenades to make the supply whole. He tried not to think about the casual way Mara spoke about starfire, skin prickling with a burn that he ruthlessly suppressed.
Wardens couldn’t cast starfire, and Soren would always be a warden.
The aftermath of a revenant incursion on the island came with the interruption of regular tasks. Soren made his way to the underground munitions storage on the opposite side of the fort from the laboratories and then back to the sentry tower he’d stood guard duty at. He made the inventory whole for the next fight before leaving Mara to her watch duty for the rest of the afternoon. He joined other wardens past the walls on the shore to deal with what remained of the revenants.
The poison that had been used in defense of the fort wasn’t dangerous to wardens who’d gone through the years of alchemy to gain immunity to the poisons and toxins native to Maricol. Tithes were restricted from the cleanup, none of them having made the full alchemic transition to the rank of warden.
Soren spent the afternoon with other wardens cleaning up their assigned segments of the shoreline, hauling the remains of revenants to the western burn pit for disposal. The smell of rotting bodies finally burning was the only reason he and other wardens put their gas masks on. The filters made the stench bearable as they canvassed the open areas of the island to ensure no bits of revenants remained.
By the time he and the other wardens re-entered the fort, the sun was low on the horizon, and everyone was hungry. They cleaned up at the public sinks near the gate before making their way to the refectory. Tithes had prepared a hearty meal of pan-fried noodles and beef, with a heaping of roasted bitter greens and slices of sourdough bread.
Soren carried his tray to a table in the middle of the large space, joining other wardens already there, all of them more focused on the food than conversation. He cleaned his plates and was nursing the dregs of his chai when the noise in the rectory faded to a murmur. Heads craned around to the door, and Soren looked that way as well, seeing Delani conversing with a knot of older wardens just past the entryway. She clasped a hand to one warden’s shoulder before making her way to the nearest table to stand on the bench.
Every warden crammed together at the tables went silent without her needing to ask for their attention. Delani didn’t need a voice amplifier to be heard in that quiet.
“A patrol around the Celestine Lake by boat and airship cleared the surrounding area of any enemy movement. Wherever these revenants came from, it was likely from a tributary, and they made their way to the island through the water since no one on watch duty saw movement on the shores,” Delani said.
“Could they have been released by submersibles?” someone in the back called out.
“It’s a possibility, but none of our depth charges were triggered, and our underwater patrols didn’t see any. If they came from the rivers, we’ll need to expand our patrols. With winter behind us, the land is more easily traversable now, and the revenants coming out of the war in Ashion will be more of a problem. Reports are coming back from the front line that the numbers of revenants are higher than they were last autumn.”
“Both sides are taking losses, and dead soldiers are getting run through Daijal’s death-defying machines before they can be burned. We need to put a stop to that,” someone down Soren’s table said loudly.
“Any news on the locations of the death-defying machines?” another warden asked.
“We’re still hunting for them in Ashion’s western provinces, but Daijal is targeting wardens now. Even traveling through the back roads is risky with the troop movement happening.”
Wardens still had borders to guard, land to cleanse. Those wardens who’d been recalled from Daijal and Urova had been assigned duties in Ashion to assist that country’s army when it came to handling revenants in the battlefield. Eimarille saw it as an alliance even if the wardens did not.
Every war in Maricol’s history always involved wardens. They were the ones to ensure the dead were burned, that every genealogy tag taken from a body was sent back to the cities and towns the fallen had once hailed from. Wardens might not have experience with fighting a war, but they certainly had experience with the aftermath.
“Because we anticipate the war escalating over summer, we’re reassessing borders in Ashion around the poison fields. I know most of you have been waiting for your assignments, and I promise you’ll get them in the next few days.”
“What about Rixham and the Wastelands?” a young-sounding warden asked, most likely newly made within the last few months.
“Rixham’s guard was doubled last year, and we’ve had no warnings from them about that border being at issue. The Wastelands remain as they always are, and the wardens on border duty there say they can handle what is being spawned in the red sands by the spores.”
