Aberration

by Kyle West

  “Of course,” Pallos said.

  “Let me talk to Flame first.”

  I walked around to face the dragon, his head turning until it was close to mine.

  I’m going to have a look at the ship, Flame.

  The tip of his pink snout nuzzled my face. It was far larger than my entire head, and it would have been a simple thing for him to swallow me whole. It was hard to forget his power when he treated me so gently.

  Will you be okay here on your own? I asked.

  I won’t be alone, Elekim.

  No. I suppose not, with your dragon friends and all. I paused. I may have to leave early, Flame.

  I know, Flame said. It saddens me. But you are Elekim and protecting us is your charge. King Tiamat has called for you.

  Something about those words gave me a chill that had nothing to do with the frigid air. If this is the last we see of each other, Flame . . . thank you. Words cannot express how grateful I am for you. I couldn’t have asked for a better dragon.

  You are the one I should thank, Flame said. You rose me up from Mindlessness and gave me my soul. Bearing Elekim in battle was the honor of my life, and I hope to have that honor again, someday. I sense now you have other battles to fight . . . battles where I cannot follow. Though if I could, I would follow you, even if it meant my own death.

  Hearing that made me feel unbearably sad. I reached out to touch his snout, realizing that this could really mean goodbye. And a dragon offering his life meant far more than a human offering it, for a dragon could live forever, in theory.

  We won’t say farewell, then, I said, feeling tears come to my eyes. Just until later. Okay?

  Flame inclined his head in a very humanlike gesture. I knew he only did that for my benefit. Just as he had done everything for my benefit. And it may have been my imagination, but his thin lips seemed to be pulled back. As if in a smile.

  Until later, Elekim.

  I let my hand fall, and Pallos and I walked back to the camp in silence, until Flame was lost to the snow.

  Chapter 51

  Walking on board Odin after so many weeks felt, in a way, like coming home. Its interior was warm and its clean, metallic scent familiar. I walked around, reacquainting myself with the ship. On the outside, it looked no different than before. And on the inside, it was impossible to tell it had been damaged at all. Whatever harm it had sustained must have been invisible to the eye.

  Pallos followed me to the engine room, where the fusion core hummed softly. With a simple command from the flight deck, that engine would roar to life and take us all far away from here.

  “How bad is it?” I asked.

  “Worse than it looks,” Pallos said. “The worst part is knowing how to fix it, but just not having the time.”

  I placed a hand on the bulwark, feeling the metal vibrate beneath. “Maybe I should let you pilot, then. I’m probably a bit rusty, anyway.”

  I walked to my cabin, which was unchanged from before. The bed was cleanly made and nothing of mine remained. All I’d had, really, was my pack that was still back in my tent.

  I ended my tour by filing past the galley, the conference room, and finally, ending in the flight deck. Its controls were lit up in the darkness. Outside the windshield, I could see darkness and swirling snow. It all made me unspeakably sad, for some reason. Maybe because I knew what was coming. Maybe because Odin’s adventures might soon be coming to an end.

  Despite everything I felt, though, I allowed myself a small smile. In just a few minutes, when I got my own pack on board, I’d be having my first hot shower in weeks.

  As if reading my thoughts, Pallos said, “We can go get your stuff now, if you’d like.”

  “I’d like a minute alone, Pallos.”

  “Of course,” he said. “Take your time.”

  He withdrew, and I took up my seat. I remembered everything about this ship. All the scrapes we’d barely gotten out of. The conversations held with various people. Even some flashes from Anna’s old life. I smiled, remembering memories that were not even mine. Four hundred years ago. It was still so hard to believe. But if I closed my eyes, I could still hear his laughter. I could still feel his arms around me.

  When I opened my eyes, though, I was still alone. Alone, and very cold.

  I stood up and found Pallos waiting for me in the wardroom. He looked at me, as if for direction on what came next. As if I knew.

  “What time is it, anyway?”

  “About one in the morning,” he said.

  My friends wouldn’t be happy about being woken up, but this ship was far too empty without them, and demanded to be filled with life again. At least one last time.

  “Let’s go get everyone on board,” I said.

  The shower could wait.

  * * *

  When everyone arrived, we took turns cleaning up and sleeping while Pallos cooked a meal in the galley. Once everyone was refreshed, we met up in the conference room and sat down to a communal meal. I was the last one to arrive, and everyone’s conversations subsided once I took my seat.

  As I grabbed myself a plate and began eating, I tried to think of how I would start the conversation. Would they even understand?

  “We’re going to Ragnarok Crater early, aren’t we?” Fiona asked.

  The others looked at me expectantly. All of them knew. I couldn’t hide my shock as all of them waited for my answer.

  “Actually, that’s what we’re here to discuss,” I said. “It would mean leaving the army behind. They will proceed north once the weather clears up and set up a position to defend the Caverns of Creation. But with Odin, we don’t have to wait for the weather to improve. What matters is Ragnarok Crater. Odium cannot be allowed to reach it.”

  “To me, there is no choice,” Fiona said. “I’ve been having dreams of Ragnarok Crater, not Mongar. We need to head there, even if the snow continues to come down.”

  “It’s a long march,” Shara said. “Can it be done?”

  I didn’t have the answer for that. “If the weather clears, then yes. If not . . . then things could get very difficult.”

  What was more, I didn’t even think the supply wagons could find their way through deep snow. Those wagons would carry all the food that was needed to withstand a long siege. The Crater had its own food supply to be foraged, but it wasn’t anything near enough to sustain tens of thousands of men, at least not for more than a few months.

  “It seems there really is no choice,” I said. “All in for the Sea of Creation. That’s all that matters.”

  Everyone grew quiet at this. They had known I would want to go straight to Ragnarok Crater. Did they also know what I intended to do once I reached the Sea of Creation? Did they know I would have to make the final journey alone?

  At this point, Isaru stood and left without a word. After a few seconds, the sound of his footsteps disappeared in the corridor outside.

  “Excuse me,” Isa said.

  Just as quickly as he had left, she was gone, too.

  “What was that about?” I asked.

  Fiona looked at me, as if not believing I didn’t know. “He isn’t happy about this. None of us are.”

  “Not happy about what? That we’re leaving the army behind?”

  “No,” Fiona said, looking at me as if I were daft. “It’s you not realizing how hard this will be for us. To watch our friend go, and not be able to follow.”

  They did know, then. Somehow, some way, they knew. I was too stunned to speak.

  “Go talk to him,” Shara said. “We’ll still be here.”

  I got up and paused in the doorway. “Any advice?”

  “Listen to him,” Fiona said. “It won’t be easy to hear, Shanti. But it will be necessary.”

  I pushed down the urge to defend myself. Clearly, they had all talked about this already, with Isaru heading things up. “I’ll try to listen.”

  I left the conference room and walked the short distance to the wardroom. Once there, I saw Isaru and Isa sit
ting at the table, facing across from each other. Isaru’s head hung low, his long silver hair obscuring most of his face. Isa held his hand, waiting for him to say something.

  At my entrance, she turned to look at me. I was surprised to see that there were tears in her eyes. Isaru didn’t look up, even as I approached the table and took a seat next to Isa.

  “Isaru?” I said. “You want to talk?”

  He looked up at me, his gray eyes hollow. “I know you have to do it, Shanti. Don’t convince me of that. But that still doesn’t mean I’m okay with it.”

  I was readying my own retort, when Fiona’s reminder went through my head. Listen. “What aren’t you okay with?”

  “Do I need to say it?” he asked. “If we let you do what you’re talking about, then that means none of us will ever see you again. Just for a small chance for Odium to be stopped!”

  “There’s no other way. If not me, then who?”

  “I know that,” Isaru said, frustrated. “If you really are going away . . . forever . . . don’t you want there to at least be some guarantee?”

  “There are no guarantees,” I said. “I know. It isn’t fair.”

  Isaru shook his head. “I don’t feel like you’re getting my point. None of us want you to do this, Shanti. You’re acting as if this is the way it’s going to be without any sort of conversation about it.”

  I couldn’t help myself. “I’m sorry, but things have been a bit busy around here. In case you haven’t noticed, we just fought a major battle. I’m exhausted, Isaru. Tired. Emotional. Maybe even a bit crazy. Forgive me for not sharing every single one of my thoughts with all of you the moment they’ve crossed my mind. I’m not perfect. Maybe the way I do things isn’t ideal, but you have to trust that I am trying to do my best.”

  Isaru nodded, and took a deep breath to get a handle on his emotions. “Perhaps I’m being unfair. I’m . . . sorry for that. Still, I want this decision to be made together. Whether this is the only way forward or not doesn’t matter. It’s the fact that you made the decision without even talking to us first . . . it just hurts a bit, you know?”

  I looked at Isa beside me, who was slowly nodding her head. And, over my shoulder, I saw that Fiona and Shara had joined us in the wardroom.

  “I’m outnumbered,” I said.

  “We just want you to listen,” Isaru said. “This is a discussion.”

  “But there’s only one real choice.”

  “You made that choice without asking for our opinion first,” Isa said.

  “What is your opinion, then?” I asked. “I’m not being sarcastic; I really want to know. How would this have gone differently had I approached all of you first?” None of them seemed to have a response for that. “I mean, do you think I want to die? This is the only way.”

  “We don’t know that,” Isaru said. “Who says it has to be you who goes? Why not any one of us?”

  “I’m Elekim,” I said. “Only I can command the Xenofold to open the way.”

  “Open the way,” Shara said. “If it’s only opening the way, like a door, then maybe it’s possible for us to follow you through it.” Everyone was now looking at her. “I mean, we don’t know how any of this works. All we have are your dreams, and what Tiamat has told you. We know that this is a journey you must take. You’re right about that. But who’s to say we can’t make that journey, too, if we choose?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, not sure where she was going with this. “I guess it’s possible. There’s no way of knowing. For all I know, I’m the only one who’s strong enough to do it.”

  “Like you said, we don’t know,” Shara said. “But I do know this. If there’s any chance I can follow you, then I want to do that. I mean, we’re talking about traveling to another world with a process any of us barely understands. How can you possibly do that by yourself? You’re going to need someone to watch your back.”

  “I can’t let you risk yourself,” I said.

  “No,” Shara said, firmly. “If you can risk yourself, then why can’t I risk myself? That’s my choice.”

  She had me there. If I could make the choice to risk my life, then I could hardly deny her that same decision.

  “I agree with Shara,” Isaru said. “I think all of us recognize that the Xenofold is the only way we can stop Odium, to stop the Radaskim at their source. But I also think I speak for everyone when I say we want to go with you. As long as that’s possible.”

  “We don’t know if it is possible,” I protested.

  “If we can’t do it, then we can’t do it,” Isaru said. “We’ll either live with that or die trying. We only ask for the chance.”

  I looked at Isa, who hadn’t spoken for a while. “I don’t want to die.” She looked at Isaru. “I don’t want you to die. But I can’t let you and Shanti risk yourselves while I sit idly by.”

  “Same for me,” Fiona said. “We’ve stuck together this long. And I have a feeling that it is going to be possible for all of us to go together. It’s something I feel deeply.”

  I didn’t know whether to be angry or grateful. Perhaps I was both. I didn’t want my friends to risk themselves if they didn’t have to, but I also knew that keeping them from such a choice was a double standard.

  I had nothing to say, really. I thought about it for a long moment, but no one else said anything. All were waiting for my response.

  “Okay,” I finally said, my voice quiet. “If it’s possible, and that’s what you guys want to do . . . I won’t stop you.”

  Everyone was quiet. The only person who hadn’t said a word was Pallos, who had joined us somewhere in the conversation, standing behind Shara and Fiona. He was the only one who hadn’t volunteered himself in this foolishness.

  “It’s all very brave and heroic,” he said. “But it isn’t for me.”

  I nodded. “I don’t think any less of you. “In fact . . .” I let myself trail off. No, I wouldn’t allow myself to judge anyone else’s choices. “It’s your choice, Pallos.”

  “That doesn’t mean I can’t help, in my own way,” he said. “I’ll take all of you to the Sea of Creation, and I can also take Odin back to help the army. I’ll be the only one left who knows how to fly it, after all.” He paused, his cheeks reddening a bit, as if embarrassed. “This might sound strange but . . . I just have this feeling that I’m meant for something else here. I don’t know if this feeling is instinct, or coming from the . . . well, you know. The Xenofold.”

  “You think the Xenofold is pulling you in a certain direction?” Fiona asked.

  “I don’t know,” Pallos said. “But I’m confident enough to know that if I tried to make that same journey with all of you, I wouldn’t survive it. I’m . . . not as strong as any of you.”

  While I had made Pallos an Elekai, he wasn’t at the Sea of Creation after the destruction of the Hyperfold, where the Xenofold had imbued Isa, Shara, and Isaru with all its strength. Fiona was already naturally Gifted, and could hold up with the rest.

  “Perhaps it’s fate, then,” Fiona said. “Perhaps the five of us are meant to make this journey together.”

  I was starting to see it, too, despite all my arguments against it. As hard as it was, I set that stubbornness aside. Who knew? Maybe I would need them.

  “The question is, when do we go?” Isa asked.

  Isaru was the one to provide the answer. “We need to gather everyone who’s in a command position and let them know what’s going on. When everyone has their orders to go to the Caverns of Creation, and they understand the reason why we are going on ahead, only then can we leave.”

  That made sense to me. There were a lot of people who needed to be kept in the loop. Nabea, Ret, Samal, and Tellor, who commanded the Eastern forces. General Harrow, who commanded the Elekai forces. Victor, the First Man of the Plains People, and not to mention General Tertullian, who I hadn’t even seen yet, whose appearance in the battle had been the greatest surprise of all.

  How would all these people take the news
of our departure? Would they even understand the need for us to leave early? I wasn’t sure. Just the thought of having to explain everything to them in a council meeting filled me with dread.

  “Who will be in overall command once we leave?” Fiona asked.

  “The Plains People will not follow anyone other than Victor,” I said. “I have trouble imagining General Tertullian relinquishing control of his forces, either. Elder Tellor and Lord Harrow will probably have no trouble working together. We’ll just have to trust everyone to agree on plans while still retaining control of their own troops.”

  “Let them work it out amongst themselves, then,” Shara said. “Why do I have a feeling that’s a bad idea?”

  It didn’t sound like a good idea on its face, but the longer people argued about who was in overall command, the closer the Radaskim came to breaking Mongar and enveloping our troops, ending all hope that the Sea of Creation could be defended against the coming storm.

  “It’s a question they’ll have to resolve on the move,” I said. “I don’t know how long it’ll take to travel from the Xenofold to Askalon. We all know that time flows differently inside it, usually more slowly than outside. The sooner the men can reach the Caverns of Creation, the better.”

  “Do they even know how to get there?” Isa asked.

  I wasn’t sure of that. “The Plains People probably know about the entrance to Ragnarok Crater. If they can find that, then it’ll be a difficult descent to the Crater floor, but even after all these years, the roads Hyperborea made are mostly intact. Once they’re down there, I expect they’ll have no trouble finding the entrance. Assuming the supplies and food can be brought in, Ragnarok Crater itself has a decent amount of forage that can be brought in and stored in the caves.”

  “Even so, the army can’t survive indefinitely,” Isaru said. “That’s a lot of mouths to feed, even given our losses.”

  “The Radaskim will reach the Crater before that ever happens,” I said. “And Odium doesn’t have the time to wait the army out. If he tries that, it gives us more time to make the journey.”