“I guess you would call us ascendants,” he said. “I wasn’t the only one, all of the savants accept Daena went through it. When I saw Wren last she…” He shook his head. He looked down at his hand and flexed his fingers. “Leave us just say she is probably giving the Daergons and Baronians nightmares.”
“Well deserved,” Ryelle murmured. “Their tactics are foul, and their beasts indiscriminate…”
“Speak of the lady,” he said. “And she telepaths to me; one moment.”
He looked around at the huge forces still around them, and the mess in the chamber.
He shook his head.
Sarai noticed his attention and frowned. “What is Wren saying?”
“Oh, she was just admiring the new you,” he said.
“She can see me through your eyes?”
He nodded.
She glanced back at her wings and ruffled them self-consciously. “It’s only a borrowed shape. I don’t think Adwena wants someone walking around as a duplicate of her.” She drew a deep breath and her eyes fluttered. “No matter how nice it might feel.”
There was an uncharacteristically long pause.
He laughed with her but sobered.
He did. An unknowable distance away on Homeworld, he knew that Wren could feel his understanding. Since he met Sarai, he had lived to protect her and their friends. He had never been better suited to do that than now. The sense of power, the strength, and near invulnerability were all so intoxicating. He understood Wren’s feelings all too well. How could he go back to being plain Bannor again?
He drew a breath.
He felt Wren’s surprise.
Bannor felt the blonde savant roll her eyes.
He smiled.
She broke contact.
Bannor sighed. “Wren says everything went well on Homeworld, and that for the time being, the Baronians have withdrawn. They plan to dig in and wait a bit to see what develops.”
“I fear a wait-and-see approach is about all that is open to us as well,” the King said with a frown. He turned to Megan. “Can we really afford to stand down?”
The rainbow-winged air maiden shook her head. “I wish I could in good conscience advise that. We’re still not completely sure of their objectives. Bannor remains a weak link in the Daergon coup. I believe it’s likely that they will continue to look for leverage to take him out of the fight.”
“Maybe not,” Bannor said. “I taught a whole team to see through that stealth. Wren and the others have been banging away at them since I left. They didn’t need me to spot for them.”
Megan raised an eyebrow. “Really?” She brought a finger to her lips and chewed a fingernail in speculation. “That changes the character of things. Aarlen can confirm this?”
He nodded.
She turned to the King and Queen. “Maybe we can get the heat off you by demonstrating that the ability to see through that advantage has become widespread.”
“You know,” Senalloy said. “They may have wanted him not to prevent him being a spotter, but to devise even better stealth that he can’t see through.”
“What Megan is saying may still work though,” Bannor said. “The problem is, then that whole Homeworld team becomes a target.”
Megan shrugged. “Shael Dal are targets, it’s part of the job we don’t pay them to do.”
“They Protect the universe, but they don’t get any kind of stipend?” the King asked with an incredulous tone.
“Well,” Megan said with a smile. “You become immortal, get tremendous strength, telepathy and other special powers, and can live in paradise any time you want. We figure the benefits make up for the lack of pay.”
“Those are some pretty nice benefits,” Janai said with a nod. She looked down at the bow in her hand. “I feel really powerful and this isn’t even a full shaladen is it?”
Megan shook her head. “Over the summers we’ve had to deputize people so often that every eternal now keeps four or five honorary shaladen weapons ready for when it’s needed.” She indicated Corim as he and Beia walked up to join them. “That’s how this stranger came to be one of us. He had to stand in when we lost Aarlen and Beia.” She came and draped an arm around Corim’s broad shoulders. “When Aarlen came back we couldn’t very well leave him with her shaladen—but he was too good to let go. So, he now has an honorary shaladen.” She thumped him in the stomach causing him to buckle a little. “Sorry about scaring you. I hope you’ll forgive me.”
Corim frowned and rubbed his stomach. He sighed. “It was for the best,” he murmured rubbing the back of his head. “Beia is right, I’m a terrible actor.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Are we going to let those artifices move in here?”
Megan looked to King T’Evagduran. “Not our call.”
Corim focused on the King. “Dom’Ista, it did occur to you that this could be some kind of elaborate ruse?”
The elf leader nodded. “It did.
” He put a hand on Kalindinai’s shoulder. “By a happy coincidence, I happen to be married to extremely powerful sorceress and diviner, who also conveniently, just gained a shaladen to help her cast her divinations.”
Kalindinai looked at her husband sidelong, amber eyes narrowing. “A happy coincidence am I?”
King Jhaan raised his chin. “I don’t think it was coincidence that you were the most beautiful maiden I had ever seen. I married a maiden with many virtues, among them her skills in magic.”
Kalindinai bit her lip for a moment then leaned over and kissed him in a rare public show of affection. “It was just a coincidence that I felt like kissing you right then.”
The King nodded, a smile teasing the corners of his mouth.
“Apologies Matradomma, Dom’Ista,” Beia said stepping up next to them with a little bow. She turned to Bannor. “Bannor we were over there talking and had a question.”
He put his arm around Sarai’s waist and looked at Beia. “Sure.”
“What was the trick with the dreads? I mean we saw you kill one, I’ve heard from others you killed like four or five by yourself.”
“It’s not really a trick,” he answered. “I forget who said it, but it was true. The Baronians have spent so long fighting the Kriar that everything, including those dreadnoughts is aimed at being effective against Kriar weapons and tactics.” He let out a breath. “On Homeworld, we saw a mecha much like those big ones over there.” He pointed to the frames on the other side of the room. “It practically destroyed itself trying to kill one. Thousands and thousands of shots and all it did was make the dread angry. That gold skin is designed to withstand Kriar weaponry, including the swords their mecha use.” He leaned forward. “Now, a sword with magic on it—different outcome.”
“Yes, we saw that, that was the only way we could kill one. It takes forever—unless you get lucky.”
Bannor let out a breath. “Luck is a factor.” He rubbed Sarai’s shoulder and looked down at her. “It was when I thought this girl was in trouble that I learned they could be killed. I got mad, assumed battle form and punched it with everything I had.” He shrugged. “Enough power behind a single focused strike and I think it overloads the armor. I think when the armor overloads, the shock kills the dread.”
“It doesn’t hurt that its face gets mashed at the same time,” Senalloy added.
Bannor shrugged. “That too.”
“So, no trick, just brute force in a small spot with a magic weapon,” Beia said. “I assume pantheon lord’s battle form would be like using a magic weapon.”
He rubbed the back of his head. “I guess.”
Megan blinked. “Based on that, the most effective weapon we could have employed against them were the Shaladens in bow form and using some good strong magic arrows.”
“Something we didn’t even try,” Corim said, shaking his head.
“Be assured,” King T’Evagduran said, holding up his bow. “If there is a next time with these creatures, that’s going to be tried.”
Janai opened her mouth to add something and stopped her gaze tracking to something coming from where the mechas were working.
Hulking Nomar approached with slow thundering footsteps. Ahead of him, was what looked like a female elf with purple hair, and luminescent gold eyes. She was dressed in black skin-tight cloth the same as Bannor had worn on Homeworld, revealing the female’s slender outline.
She stopped before the King and Queen and bowed. She spoke in Elvish with a strange breathy twang. “Peace. Field medical frame Wysteri responding for aide. May I be of service?”
The King stared at her. “You’re flesh, and you appear Elven.”
“Is this appearance not suitable, Dom’Ista?”
“Your appearance is fine. I did not expect any of you to appear—normal.”
“Part of my function as a medical frame is interacting with those who need treatment. I assume the semblance that is most soothing and relaxing for them in order to make procedures go more smoothly.”
“So,” Kalindinai said. “You can take any shape then?”
“Within limits, yes. Are there injuries in need of treatment?”
“There is a triage downstairs,” Megan answered. “We have perhaps twenty or thirty injured. I will get an escort for you.”
Wysteri inclined her head. “Very well.” She started to turn away then paused. She focused on Sarai. Her eyes narrowed. “May I approach?”
Sarai stared at the medical frame for a moment then nodded.
The lady mecha stepped forward. She drew a breath and crouched so that she was at eye level with Sarai’s abdomen.
“Second trimester,” Wysteri said. “Signs of recent energy deprivation, and trauma. Have you sought treatment for your fetus?”
“Treatment?” Sarai said, reflexively covering herself. Her wings fluttered in agitation. “Is there something wrong?”
Wysteri turned her head and brushed a strand of purple hair away from her glowing eyes. “Did you recently receive a strike or series of strikes?”
“Was I hit?” Sarai’s green eyes widened in alarm. “I don’t remember being hit. I did need to fight out of a couple presses. There were a lot of things swinging at me. I thought I avoided all of them.”
“She’s not used to having an air-maiden’s body,” Megan said, concern written in her features. “It’s very possible she took a hit without knowing it. Our bodies are made to minimize pain when we engage in battle. It’s automatic—instinctive.”
“Wysteri was it?” Kalindinai said.
The medical frame looked up at the Queen. “Yes.”
“How well do you know medicine and this sort of thing?”
Wysteri stared at her with a puzzled expression. “I am a class two field physician with specific expertise in treating seven million hominid species, with broad knowledge of biology, physiology, and chemistry.”
“Matradomma, she’s a mecha with the equivalent of thousands of libraries in her head,” Senalloy said.
“Thousands?” Kalindinai said.
“Probably hundreds of thousands,” Luthice added. “Kriar medical frames are the highest evolved of their mecha.”
“Bannor?” Sarai said gripping his arm. She was starting to look scared. “Do you see anything?”
He looked at little Vhina. Her threads did seem slightly weaker, but she was still a long ways from being fully formed. Thread sight was so general at times, and their baby was still relatively small.
“There might be something. I can’t really say. I don’t know enough to say what I’m seeing.”
“Lady Megan,” Kalindinai said. “Can you oversee the cleanup and the renewal of our defenses? I trust your judgment.”
“Yes, of course, Matradomma,” Megan answered. The air maiden reached out and touched Sarai’s shoulder. “She’ll be okay.”
Sarai drew a breath and looked at the medical frame Wysteri. “I hope so.”
* * *
Chapter Seventeen
The Meaning of Life
« ^ »
Living things are not made from metal, or so I believed. It’s difficult to hold to such a belief when the thing keeps blinking at you, and cogently addressing all the pragmatic aspects of life and consciousness…
—Kalindinai T’Evagduran,
Queen of Malan
At the mention of a possible complication with Sarai’s baby, the entire T’Evagduran family rallied around the third princess. Wysteri pushed a hand through her purple hair and gazed at each individual with luminescent gold eyes, apparently finding them all quite interesting. Nomar, the giant boomer, loomed behind her like a protective shadow. Megan, Corim, Beia, Arabella, Senalloy and Luthice stood by with concerned expressions.
“All right,” Kalindinai said. “We should go someplace a little cleaner and more private.” She looked to Megan. “Any place you would prefer?”
The Protectorate commander shrugged. “You all have shaladens and we’re in the council shielding.
Any place is as safe as another. Please do check in and keep us apprised of any developments.”
Kalindinai nodded and faced the medical frame. “Wysteri, come with us.”
The mecha nodded.
Bannor thumped Corim on the shoulder. “We’ll talk later, okay?”
The man nodded and leaned close to Sarai. “Arminwen, I hope everything is okay.”
Sarai drew a breath and nodded silently.
The family including Senalloy and Luthice moved as a group. Nomar, the boomer turned to follow.
Wysteri looked back. “Nomar, I will be all right.”
The huge creature’s brow furrowed and his shoulders slumped in a very real and human disappointment. “Are you sure?” he rumbled.
“Nomar, they need time to explain things. You might get attacked.”
“I can be—discreet…” he said in a voice as tentative as four pace tall metal man could manage.
Wysteri rolled her eyes. “You’re about as discreet as those dragons.” She gestured to Tymoril and Kegari. “Help them clean up.”
He pressed his lips together, obviously not happy. “Are you—”
The medical frame cut over his words. She folded her arms. “Nomar, I am positive—please.”
The boomer hung his head. “Acknowledged.” He turned away in apparent dejection, and strode off toward the other mecha.
Wysteri watched him go then looked back to them. “Please proceed.”
Kalindinai stared at the frame for long moment before heading off.
Fluffing her purple hair, the mecha fell in step beside them, hands behind her back.
Sarai like her mother seemed to be adjusting to what she had just seen. A huge metal creature—pouting. Janai and Ryelle glanced back at Sarai, the two princesses had speculative expressions on their faces.
His fiancé glanced back to council hall, then focused on Wysteri. “Nomar seemed upset.”
Reality's Plaything 4: Savants Ascendant Page 25