A Forest of Stars - Kevin J. Anderson [251]
Then, with the hydrogues no longer in range, the worldtrees took an action that was both life-affirming and a surrender of hope for their own survival. The plated trunks twitched open again and ejected more seeds, but this time the black pellets simply fell to the forest floor like scattered treasure, a hope that they would eventually grow again.
But nothing would help the Theron settlers here and now.
When the mind of the worldforest chose to do this, the people beneath the canopy saw that such measures were the forest’s last hope. And if the trees were doomed, the human beings on Theroc had little chance of survival.
Most of Reynald’s people had rushed to the dubious shelter of the forest floor, but the hydrogues would find them there, too. He shouted in futile defiance at the enemy aliens, but he could think of absolutely no way to save the trees or his people…
Then, ripping across the sky like an orange comet, came a blazing fireball, an ovoid mass of incandescent flame that maneuvered, changed course, and shot straight toward the crystalline warglobes. The fiery apparition moved as if it were a self-contained ship, or a sentient being in its own right. Behind it came dozens of other fireballs, a swarm of scorching hornets rushing in, each one taking a frenzied course, choosing a target. A hydrogue target.
“What are they?” Reynald asked. “What do they want?”
The first fireball blasted one of the warglobes with a blinding gout. Flames engulfed and blackened the diamond sphere, tightening its incinerating stranglehold. The stricken warglobe lashed out with blue lightning that scored the flaming intruder. But the fireball sent another blast and another, increasing in intensity until, with a final searing explosion, the hydrogue vessel cracked open.
A jet of pressurized atmosphere sprayed out, prying the broken diamond hull apart. The ellipsoidal fireball continued its pummeling fire until finally the warglobe shattered, and its wreckage tumbled into the thick canopy.
“The faeros have arrived,” said one of the green priests with a mixture of enthusiasm and dread.
More fireballs careened pell-mell into the hydrogues, inflicting instant damage. Reeling, the warglobes broke off their immediate attack against the worldforest.
Clutching the tree bough beside him, the green priest shouted, “The faeros are attacking all across the planet! They are driving back the hydrogues!”
The blazing invaders poured out new gouts of flame, but the fire splattered and ricocheted off the crystalline hulls, dripping like lava into the vulnerable forest. Spotty blazes caught hold in the susceptible branches and trunks that had already been withered and shattered by the hydrogues. The freeze-dried wood caught fire easily, and the blaze began to spread.
“Those things may be attacking the hydrogues,” Reynald said, still not understanding what the faeros were, “but they could cause just as much damage here in the forest.”
The green priest lowered his eyes. “This battle predates human civilization by thousands of years, and the capricious faeros have changed sides many times.” Even the worldtrees did not seem overjoyed by the arrival of new combatants.
The warglobes struggled to defend themselves, lashing out with more lightning. Enveloping clouds of steamy icewaves surrounded one of the fiery capsules, smothering the flames until the struggling, smoking ovoid tumbled from the sky, a frost-encrusted lump that showed no sign of life whatsoever.
With the exchange of cross fire in the skies, tongues of flame spilled into the trees. More broken warglobes crashed into the tree-carpeted landscape. The desiccated battlefield became a spreading conflagration as the titanic elemental beings fought overhead.
Secondary fires raged across the forest floor and lapped against the worldtree bark. Flames swept through the underbrush, growing stronger and hotter. The