Skyclad (Fate's Anvil Book 1)

by Scott Browder

  The naked subject of their discussion was currently down in the courtyard, once again speaking with Biggles. Terisa couldn’t make out the words without using her skills, and didn’t feel the desire to pry. The work of the day was obvious, in any case: the bodies of those killed by Deskren infiltrators had been wrapped in what little cloth the Expedition could spare, and then placed on small biers of wood. Terisa and Kojeg had prepared Nessara’s remains together, one of the last comforts they could extend to her. Chadwick’s belongings had revealed no clues as to when the mage had been taken, much to the dismay of the survivors.

  As the person in charge of the Expedition and responsible for its well-being, Terisa felt the sting of failure more sharply than anyone else. Despite the grief shared by all, she had more pressing concerns than a funeral pyre. She looked across the rows of tents and wagons, considering their options once more.

  “We can’t rebuild the bridge before winter, and there’s no other way to cross the gorge.”

  “What’s the shortest way around it?” asked Dana.

  “There isn’t one,” Terisa reluctantly admitted. “It’s only mapped out for a few hundred miles to the southeast. To the north, it continues all the way to the ice fields, easily two thousand miles from here.” She sighed in resignation. “There’s no crossing that would get us back to the pass before the snows.”

  “So we’re stuck here? Without any way to help the city? Or even find out if he was lying just to needle us?”

  “If we can’t get out of the Wildlands before winter, we’re dead. The Sorceress and her father might survive, but they can’t protect or feed this many people.”

  Terisa rose to her feet, hefting the case containing Althenea’s rifle form, still surprised but not encumbered by the weight. At least high levels are good for something, she thought to herself. Out loud, she continued talking to Dana as they traversed the top of the wall. “Have you given much thought to how you’re going to deliver on your promise to the dwarves?”

  “Not as such,” she admitted. “I’m working on a solution for Althenea’s little split personality problem right now,” replied the Worldwalker, tapping on the metal armor of her left arm with her right hand. An image of both the Barrett and the Colt were suddenly projected within a hovering sphere in front of the two women as they walked. “I think I have an idea that will appease them and get us out of the Wildlands at the same time, but we really need you at full effectiveness as fast as possible.”

  “I fail to see how you can help my sister, but I’m willing to try almost anything at this point.”

  “That’s where our new friend comes in,” Dana replied as they descended the steps toward the courtyard. “Have you seen how things vanish and reappear in her hands? She’s got spatial enchantment runes on her uh, belt tattoo. But my sensors can’t get a read on anything more than that, because she’s so freaking fast with magic!”

  “So you want to do what, exactly? Some sort of spatial storage like a bag of holding?”

  “Exactly that, yes.” The Worldwalker made a pinching gesture at the image of the two guns, and they merged together briefly before the rifle shrank down and disappeared into the form of the Colt. “If Althenea can’t be in two places at once, then maybe she can just be one weapon at a time, and switch back and forth.” The image of the pistol blurred as she finished speaking, melting outward to flow back into the form of the rifle.

  “I think we can do that!” Morgan agreed, suddenly appearing from nowhere right beside Dana, staring at the image.

  To her credit, Dana almost managed to not jump three feet in the air. She turned to face Morgan, and suddenly the air around her glowed, four electric-blue arcs of hard light held in her extra limbs. Terisa had sensed the Sorceress’ disappearance from the courtyard, and her high-level tracking skills allowed her to sense her approach. Dana, however, had no such ability, and had been oblivious to her approach.

  Morgan thrust her arms out ahead of her in a warding gesture, laughing. “Ha! O-okay, don’t stab me, please.” Dana withdrew her blades, stowing them back in her limbs. “Man, I was actually hoping you had something like that. Now all we need is for you to call me General Mackenzie.”

  The Engineer recovered from being startled with admirable speed, suddenly adopting an entirely different stance and brandishing all four of her blades in a far showier display. Terisa glanced from one giggling woman to the other, entirely nonplussed. “Is this some form of greeting on your world?”

  Dana took a moment to catch her breath, putting her limbs away as the Sorceress answered with a laugh. “No, just a pop culture reference. Her fusion blades look a lot like the swords from one of our most popular fictions.”

  “Different sound effects, though,” the Engineer remarked. “I never did figure out how to replicate that sound.”

  “So, how can I help you and Althenea?” Morgan asked, returning to more serious matters. “Biggles is getting ready to put the spirits to rest; I think he said he wants to do it at dusk, something about the symbolism being important. But it might be a quick fix; if we get started now, we should have time before I have to help him out.”

  Dana nodded, fixing Morgan with a gaze. “I know you have spatial magic runes. I want to build a spatial displacement framework into both of Althenea’s forms so she can swap between them without having to bounce back and forth like she does now.” Dana led the other two women toward her workshop as she talked, the hatch before them opening up as she approached. “I don’t have any skills with spatial magic, but I can etch the runes into the metals, if you can help with the actual spellwork.”

  The mobile workshop continued to shift, plates retracting as the side opened up. A worktable seemed to extrude itself from the wall as segments reconfigured, and Dana’s armored limbs divided again into her more spider-like form. With her hands, she pulled several rectangular objects out of slots along the open wall of the shop. The ends of the metal limbs detached with smooth clicking sounds, and the rectangles folded themselves into different tools, which soon graced the ends of the shiny appendages.

  At Dana’s prompting, Terisa drew the Colt and placed it carefully on the table before turning to open the case of the Barrett once more. “It would be much easier to just have to carry one. The rifle is unwieldy for close combat, and I can’t use both at once.”

  “I can’t change the total mass,” Morgan said, “but the weight…”

  “The only bag of holding I saw at Thun’Kadrass made things lighter, but if you swung it, you could still feel how heavy things were. It was weird,” Dana said as the Sorceress trailed off.

  “Yep. My own storage runes offset a lot of that in some way, but they don’t move. ” Morgan turned to present one perfectly shaped hip and thigh, tracing with her finger one of the circular runes that stood out against the tattooed belt arching over her hipbone. “I’m not sure how the magic handles the inertia, but I can carry several times my own weight between all the runes. I think that’s a skill effect, and I’m almost certain I can’t reproduce it.”

  “I can handle the weight.” Terisa put action to words, hefting the Barrett with one hand before placing it on the table as well. “It’s simply not suited for quickness, like the Colt.”

  Morgan stared down at both weapons, idly gnawing on one sparkling, crystalline fingernail. After a few moments, she said slowly, “What we can do…and the only way I think I can get it to work…” She frowned. “What we need to do is construct a storage lattice around both guns separately, and then link them—when one is active, the other isn’t.”

  “Bags of holding don’t take any Mana to work, they’re simply there. Passive. How do you activate a storage enchantment?” Dana asked.

  “I’ve seen it done,” Terisa answered. “Quite often. What you saw of Expedition’s fortifications was limited; there’s been no need to bring everything up in several years. Many of the towers along its walls contain much more than what’s normally seen from the outside.”

&n
bsp; Dana looked almost hurt, frowning. “I’ve been trying to get someone to teach me spatial magics since I got here! The dwarves won’t, and you just tell me this now ?”

  “The dwarves don’t do much with spatial magic,” Terisa replied. “They’re more about reinforcing stone and metals. Stormbreak Academy or the Magisterium could teach you, but if you don’t have the talent for actual spellcasting, it’s nearly impossible to get into either. Everyone else keeps their secrets close.” Terisa eyed the metal-suited Worldwalker. “You know this better than anyone else here.”

  “I know, I know,” she sighed. “It’s just frustrating!”

  “I don’t know if I’m the best choice for a teacher,” Morgan admitted, while tracing several runes onto the metal table with one lightning-tipped finger. “I’ve had to figure things out as I go along. I can’t push my magic into the guns; that might hurt Althenea. But this is the most stable spatial enchantment I’ve been able to work out.” She tapped the rune shapes she’d inscribed.

  “I can etch them into the metal easily enough where there isn’t crystal already inlaid,” Dana replied, looking down at the patterned circles. “Did it hurt her when you worked on your bow before?” she continued, glancing up at the Huntress.

  Terisa shook her head. “Before, she was simply inside the gem, not part of the bow. That was actually the third bow I had made since her soul was trapped. Now, though…it’s different, and I don’t think she can be taken apart like that without killing her.”

  “That may be true for the Colt; it’s got The Titan’s crystal threaded through everything on a molecular level.” Dana held out an instrument of lenses, holding it over the metal slide of the pistol’s action. Terisa could see the pearlescent glow pulsing like hair-thin wires through the metal, evidence of her sister’s presence. “But the Barrett is only that dense with runic patterns through the upper receiver and barrel. You can still at least partially take that one apart—and you’ll need to learn how to, anyway, to clean and maintain it. Trust me, Althenea will appreciate it. The bolt and chamber can get gunked up in a bad way if you don’t.”

  “Mm.” Terisa nodded. “Another thing. The Colt doesn’t need—‘ammunition’, did you call it?—but the Barrett does. Do you have more?”

  “Don’t worry about ammo for the Barrett,” Dana replied, waving her hand dismissively. “I have plenty of standard rounds in the workshop, and we can work out enhanced ammo later on. Kojeg and his brothers may be upset, but I’ll deal with them. If I’m building flying ships for them, ‘they owe me’ doesn’t even begin to characterize our little agreement.”

  Terisa nodded, watching as the Sorceress traced more runes into the table. “I’ll speak on your behalf before the Thanes if you need,” she reassured the Engineer. “I’m indebted to you both for this. Speaking of, Sorceress…” Terisa turned to Morgan, shifting her weight. “You haven’t named a price…”

  The woman seemed baffled for a moment. “I, uh…never thought about it?” she offered. “I wanted to meet people and find civilization. But I had no clue how far I’d have to go, so I figured it might be next year before I made it far enough west. I guess if you want to repay me, you can just help me get out of the Wildlands, and maybe help if I have to fight these guys with the collars.”

  “It wouldn’t have taken you a year if you’d found the bridge before winter, but it was the only crossing I know of. Dana seems confident she can build a flying ship, though.”

  “That’s not confidence, it’s a certainty,” the Engineer said. “The only question is the timeframe. We’ll need a safe place to bunker down for a few months, and you told me not even Castra Pristis is safe in the winter.”

  “Nothing is safe in the winter,” Terisa replied, “but we can talk about that later. Althenea is getting agitated again, I can feel it.”

  Her words were proven correct as the runes on the Colt flashed and faded, glowing once more along the surface of the Barrett. They pulsed, then flickered back to the pistol, before flowing back and forth in rapid succession.

  “Okay,” Morgan said, drawing one final circle around both weapons. “If you can copy these runes onto the Colt, I can work on the Barrett. The pistol’s patterns are too small and fine for me to risk it without messing with Althenea.”

  “So these are spatial stabilization runes?” asked the Engineer.

  “Yes. I broke a lot of clay pots before I figured out you even needed them, but it’s really just like building houses, like my dad taught me. The stronger the foundation, the stronger the house. And if you think about it, this is actually Althenea’s house we’re building.”

  Dana leaned in to inspect the runes more closely. “These look more like…circles of several runes?”

  “They are!” Morgan confirmed. “Seven spatial anchors in a circle, with the spatial folding points in between. What we’re making is basically two spatial storage enchantments that can invert themselves, I guess you’d say, then we link them. When one is out here, the other will be inside its own pocket space.”

  “That is…” Terisa blinked, leaning in to study the runes as well. “I don’t think any mage I’ve ever heard of has even thought of such an arrangement…but I’m no expert,” she hedged. She fell silent, watching as Morgan reached out to touch the barrel of the rifle. Gossamer threads of purple light glowed in faint patterns along the woman’s hand, then flowed down across the metal. The purple stayed between the lines of silvery light that marked Althenea’s presence, carefully tracing their way along the metal to form circular etchings where her sister’s own runes left space on the surface.

  Dana was likewise occupied. Two of her metal limbs had folded out into a delicate frame holding up the Colt, and the Engineer was biting her own tongue in concentration while tiny needle-like tips raced in sharp, precise motions to inscribe the even smaller workings on the handgun. Althenea seemed even more agitated at first, as evidenced by the frantic flashing and pulsing of her silvery glow. But as the enchantments began to sink into the metal of both weapons, light began to bend around them both, like heat ripples on a hot day. Almost as if she could sense the two women’s intentions, Terisa could feel her sister calm down. Indeed, Althenea appeared to radiate curiosity, eager to see what the result of this new work would be.

  The Sorceress and the Engineer worked in silence as the sun crept closer to the horizon. Less than an hour remained until sunset, and they’d gained an audience. Biggles and the beastkin younglings had finished the preparations for the evening’s cleansing ritual and had gathered, as well as Kojeg and Foz. Morgan’s tattoos were eye-catching, glowing in pulsing patterns like fluttering heartbeats painted in flashes of light. Her brow wrinkled in concentration as she neared the end of the spell working, her rune tracings requiring finer detail and smaller circles around the stock and grip of the Barret where Althenea’s runes were more dense.

  Dana grunted, risking a brief glance at Morgan. “The spatial runes here—they’re trying to pull inward, I think,” she said through gritted teeth, sweat beading on her forehead. “We need to link them before they shatter!”

  A brief flash of worry caused Terisa’s heart to skip a beat, but the Sorceress grinned as magic pulsed palpably in the air around them.

  “That’s supposed to happen,” Morgan said with supreme confidence as the last of the runes on the rifle came together in one contiguous pattern. “Leave the linking to me.”

  As Dana inscribed the final portion of the rune shape into the Colt’s frame, a writhing contortion of space twisted around both weapons, and she barely snatched her hands and tools back in time before threads of violet and indigo connected Althenea’s two halves. The [Skyclad Sorceress] extended one hand toward each half, her eyes blazing with intensity as the weight of magic before her became a nearly physical thing. “Just…like…” she breathed as the Colt and Barrett floated into the air, suspended by twisted space and violet magic. With a whump of displaced air and a brilliant flash, both weapons disappeared in the space b
etween two heartbeats.

  “—that!” she finished triumphantly, the pistol suddenly reappearing atop the table as if it had never left. The rifle was nowhere to be seen.

  Suddenly the pistol’s runes flared, purple and silver in concert. Another flare of light, and suddenly the Colt was gone, replaced by the Barrett. Once more, and the pistol returned. The runes’ glow pulsed twice, and Terisa felt an almost overwhelming sensation of rightness radiating out from the small gun.

  To her credit, Terisa’s hands barely shook at all as she took up the Colt, that sense of rightness saturating her entire being through the contact. At her request, she suddenly found her hand wrapped around the grip of the rifle. Once more, and she once again held the pistol. Rightness gave way to joy, nearly intense enough to drive the seasoned Huntress to tears.

  She slowly returned the Colt—her sister—to her holster, patting it lovingly while giving the two Worldwalkers a broad grin. “This…I cannot thank you enough. This changes everything .”

  Chapter 39: Dirt

  “That’s awesome!” Morgan clapped her hands with satisfaction, dancing in place after seeing Althenea switch between her forms several times. The discordance and sense of confusion no longer radiated from the bound soul, and Morgan relished the lack of sensation. It had been an unscratchable itch since she’d first attached Althenea to the weapons, constantly echoing across the [Spell Resonance] link; the annoyance alone would have driven her to help, even if it weren’t for her own compassion and her desire to do something ‘cool’.

  Dropping a mountain on the swarming things her friends had called ‘skitterlings’ had been impressive enough to see, certainly, but from a magical standpoint, it hadn’t been especially challenging—or even all that fun. Once the deeper layers of earth and stone had been lifted up, all she’d had to do was stand back and let gravity and inertia take their courses. It had required most of her magical reserves, but it had been a matter of brute force rather than skill. Helping Althenea, however, had been satisfying in a deeply visceral way, and posed a fantastic test of her skill with enchantments.