Chapter 15
Alistair watched the jungle where the two Graxians had disappeared. The silence they left behind felt heavy. He had made his choice. Now he had to live with it.
Thora came to stand beside him. She didn't speak, but her presence was a question.
"They will come back," Alistair said quietly. "But maybe not with spears next time."
He turned from the tree line. There was no time to worry. He had to prepare.
The settlement felt different now. Before, the walls were for keeping out mindless beasts. Now, they were a defense against thinking enemies. The Graxians had seen the watchtower. They would be ready for it.
"We need a second tower," he told Thora. "On the east side. And we need to make the wall stronger."
He pulled up his construction menu. New options were available since he'd linked with the planetary core.
[REINFORCED PALISADE: 300 WOOD, 100 STONE. POWER COST: 30.]
It was expensive. But necessary.
He didn't have the wood. Buying it would be easy, but his power pool was still low from the fight. Better to use what they had.
"Start gathering," he told Thora. "All the wood you can find. Use the wood-shaping. Make the logs sharp and strong."
While the tribe worked, Alistair climbed the existing watchtower. He looked east, toward the Graxian lands. What were they planning? How long did he have?
His admin sight showed him the forest, but couldn't see through it. He needed better intelligence. Better defenses.
A new idea came to him. Not a bigger wall, but a smarter one.
He focused his power, not on building, but on sensing. He reached out through the earth, following the ley-lines that connected him to his territory. He could feel the life within Vance Haven - his people, the small creatures now living peacefully inside the walls. And just beyond, he could feel the larger predators that gave the forest its edge.
What if he could extend that feeling further?
He poured power into the ground, pushing his awareness along the ley-lines. It was like stretching a muscle he didn't know he had. The world blurred at the edges of his vision as his consciousness spread beyond the walls, through the soil, into the roots of trees.
He could feel... movement. About a mile east. Many creatures moving together. Graxians. A large group. Not rushing, but moving with purpose.
They were coming. Soon.
He pulled back, his head throbbing from the effort. His power pool was down to twenty. But he knew what he needed to know.
He climbed down and found Thora. "They're coming. A day, maybe two."
Her face tightened, but she didn't panic. "The wall isn't ready."
"It doesn't need to be finished," he said. "It just needs to be smart."
He had her direct the wood-shapers to a new task. Instead of just making the wall thicker, they began creating sharpened stakes to place in the ground outside the walls. They dug a shallow trench and filled it with the thorny branches from the jungle's dangerous plants.
It wasn't much, but it would slow the Graxians down. Make them think twice about charging.
As night fell, Alistair stood on the foundation stone, feeling the energy of his people around him. They were afraid, but they were working together. They trusted him.
He had brought this trouble to them. He had chosen to settle here, to build, to make a stand. And he had chosen to let the prisoners go.
Now he would see if his choices had been wise, or if they would get everyone killed.
The two suns disappeared below the horizon. In the growing dark, Alistair kept watch. Somewhere out there, an army was gathering. And he had bet everything on a single hope - that mercy might be stronger than fear.