Flight To Exile

by Chris Reher

  “I’m staying here with them,” the girl said defiantly.

  Chor nudged her forward. “Do what he says,” he said. “You’ll be safer.”

  “Don’t want to be safer. And here I’ll stay!”

  Aletha tugged Yala closer to her. There was something peculiar in Delann’s expression. The unpleasant smile had for an instant changed it into something even more unfamiliar, as if someone else was lurking behind Delann’s face. Someone with a reason for wanting the girl nearby.

  At his leader’s impatient gesture, a soldier pulled Yala away from the adepts and heaved her onto Delann’s saddle. Delann turned his charger to continue their march up the mountain. “Kill them,” he said, pointing at the emissaries.

  No one moved for several moments while Delann’s words hung in the air like some peculiar object that had just appeared out of nowhere to be examined, discussed perhaps, to see if it would bite. No one in Thali’s history had ever given such an order; the very thought of it was profane. Bewildered glances were exchanged before someone, perhaps, remembered a brother or a wife taken away to be purged, or property confiscated, or judgments passed in the name of their gods. The mercenaries surged forward, easily overpowering the untrained priests. Aletha screamed when two of the emissaries, suddenly lifeless, were tossed aside. Before Galen could stop her she leaped forward and scurried through the fray toward Delann. Restrained by his guards and his chains, Galen watched anxiously as she slipped through the mob, certain that at any moment someone’s sword would cut her down. She reached up to grasp Delann’s arm, shaking it, shouting, begging for him to stop the slaughter. At last, Delann raised a small pipe to his lips and whistled a signal. His men, well trained and well paid, stopped their assault on the emissaries.

  Delann surveyed at least a half dozen dead emissaries, his puzzled men, the angry twins, and the small woman still clinging to his saddle. “Dazai…” he breathed, suddenly looking very confused.

  “This isn’t you, Delann,” Aletha cried. “This isn’t you!”

  Delann ran a hand over his eyes. When he looked again the awful scene before him was still the same. “Bring them along,” he snapped at his men, meaning the remaining emissaries. Without another word he turned and rode onward, Yala slouched in front of him, stunned into silence.

  * * *

  It was past noon when they finally reached the launch site. While Delann had been following some beacon placed in his mind by the La’il, both Galen and Aletha could have found this place blindfolded. Although it was still firmly sealed, both knew that the La’il was standing at the edge of a similar aperture on the Homeworld, her entire being focused on the chi’ro that would shortly enter into it.

  The company and their captives came to a halt in an open area ringed by ancient evergreens. It was an unremarkable patch of rock-strewn hillside offering a dizzying view of the western islands and the vast ocean beyond. No one here failed to look into the distance to see the Homeworld heave over the horizon as though it was rising from the sea, perhaps on its ancient quest to catch up with Chenoweth directly above their heads.

  Everyone but Aletha, the twins, and five or six of the emissaries looked about themselves in puzzlement. Why had they come here, to this ordinary place? Here lay simply a slab of smooth, exposed crystal embedded in the rock, partially covered by leaves and rocks and other hillside debris. Yet surely something important was to take place here.

  The twins moved ahead of the group toward the riser guarding the launch. “You can feel that,” Galen said, half-turning back to the huddled group of emissaries, his words directed at Tsingao. He held up his free hand as if to test the heat of a fire. “Maybe some of you can even see that. Do you not wonder why you can?”

  The men looked back at him, some staring in defiance, some curiously waiting for him to continue. Delann had dismounted and now stood nearby, silent, his arms crossed on his chest. The half smile on his face belonged to someone else. Yala slid from his saddle and scurried to Aletha.

  “It’s called chi’ro. Do you think it’s your gods speaking to you when you touch this magic? Does it lead you to your enemies? Are we even your enemies?” Galen and Chor tugged lightly on their shackles and snapped the chain that tied them together. Some startled exclamations and hastily whispered invocations rose from the circle of men around them. “Do you really know what your gods are saying to you?”

  “Our duty is to destroy the magic users,” Tsingao said. Distracted, his eyes flicked to the riser and back to Galen. “They are abominations in the eyes of our Gods. Chenoweth commands it. Nothing less.”

  “It is your duty to stop the magic users. Not to kill them.”

  “Our histories are not open to interpretation by the likes of you!”

  Galen ignored him and turned to the other emissaries. “Your ancestors were the agents left here by Chenoweth after most other magic users had gone. They were given instructions to prevent the use of chi’ro, of this magic, for needless purposes. But few of us can resist the power it gives us. And so the only way your people found to stop the magic was to punish any violators of Chenoweth’s commandment. To lock them away. To kill them, even. Now, generations later, you have forgotten the purpose of your mission. You have made gods of the people who gave you this law, and you use it to enslave all of Thali. You yourselves are Descendants, and your gifts allow you to hunt and destroy your own people.”

  He moved to Tsingao and reached into his pocket before the emissary had time to react. Holding the small book aloft, he continued. “‘None henceforth may draw forth from the ground the essences that belong to the Gods. To do so is death.’ That is written. But this is not a promise of what will happen to those who disobey. It is a warning of what will happen to Thali moon.” He returned the book to the silently fuming Tsingao before pointing at Aletha, who was as surprised by his words as the priests were. “We are guilty of this. In these past few weeks we have used much of the magic that drifts through this moon. But our crime is not against your gods. It is against Thali. I’d wager my last breath that nowhere in that book are there instructions to kill a magic user, or how this is done. That was not Chenoweth’s intent.”

  “Your blasphemy ends here,” Tsingao screamed and charged toward Galen, a thin dagger held aloft. Galen dodged, ready to disarm the man, but before the priest and his ineffective weapon had even crossed the distance between the two, Delann had stepped forward, his own dagger ready. The long blade drove into the emissary’s chest and emerged through his back. Tsingao took two more steps before his eyes widened in surprise and disbelief and his hand grasped the hilt of the weapon. When he sank to the ground, Delann shoved him backward to free his blade, his own face empty of any emotion. Aletha held Yala close to her, feeling the child tremble in terror.

  “There is work to do,” Delann snapped at his guards, his voice strained. After taking a crossbow from his saddle, he slapped the animal to send it away. He gestured at the corpse. “Take this away. Move the emissaries back to that line of trees there. You four start clearing the debris off the crystal.”

  His company obeyed. The emissaries picked up Tsingao’s lifeless body and moved to the edge of the clearing where they gently laid him onto the ground, unsure of how to proceed. The soldiers, ever more confused by the day’s events, began to throw aside the deadfall and stones that Delann had pointed out, finally using their hands to sweep pebbles and dust aside to reveal the smooth surface.

  At last, Delann ordered the soldiers out of the way. The men were reluctant to leave this place. Few of them felt the power emanating from the riser but they knew of their employer’s pilgrimage to bring the three fugitives here and were curious to see who would come to claim them. There was some grumbling when they were forced out of earshot.

  Aletha cared nothing for the crystal, or why it was there, or where it led. None of this was real, none of this made sense. In spite of his outward charm, Delann was neither timid nor ill-equipped when confronted by his foes. He didn’t shirk t
he battles into which he ordered his men and was not taken lightly by rival smugglers and pirates. But not ever had she imagined a day when he would defy the authority of the emissaries, no matter how much he loathed their methods. And now he had needlessly killed one of them, the most preeminent of them all, in defense of Galen whom he thought to be the enemy. He did not even look like the gentle, cheerful man she had come to adore over these past few years in Phrar. Armed, tense, scowling at everyone, he was a stranger now, serving only as La’il’s voice. “This isn’t you doing these things, Delann,” she said, as much to convince herself as the frightened child clinging to her. “This isn’t you! You can still stop it. This doesn’t have to happen.”

  “I did what I had to,” he said resolutely. He did not look at her.

  “This seal is ready to open,” Galen said, nodding toward the larger crystal. The twins circled it as if it were a snake ready to strike. “I can feel the La’il on the other side. She’s already reaching for us. Impatient. Twitchy. And fully powered up.”

  “So what do we do?” Aletha said, aware that anything she might say to Galen would likely be relayed to the La’il through Delann’s link with her. Her suspicion was confirmed when Delann raised his arm to point his crossbow at Galen. “Delann!”

  “I’m sorry, Aletha. The La’il is with me now. She said this demon will die if you don’t do as She says. She wants him to let Her in so that She can help you with the seal. I don’t know what that means, but I know She’s sincere. It is Her hand upon this bow, Aletha.”

  “Need me, after all?” Galen said, realizing what was happening. “You can’t use Delann to get to Aletha, can you? You can walk around in his body, but he won’t survive with you in his head.”

  “Weak, like the rest of the squatters up there,” Delann said, no longer sounding like Delann. His gentle voice was replaced by something with barbs and edges and other unpleasant things that had never been a part of him. “He’s been useful so far, but he’s getting a little used up now. Afraid to face me, Galen?”

  “I won’t do this,” Galen said, inwardly cursing. A dash for Chenoweth would be impossible with her in his head, understanding his intentions before he could carry them out. Expecting resistance, she would make sure that their link was not easily broken this time. “You will stay where you are. This launch will remain sealed.”

  “What are you doing?” Aletha cried. “He’ll kill you!”

  “So be it.”

  Delann’s hand jerked but he did not let the quarrel fly at either twin. Instead, he strode to Aletha and tore Yala away from her. Casting his bow aside, he drew his dagger again and held it to the girl’s throat. “Drama isn’t one of your talents, Galen. How about I start with the kid? And then that little jungle town of yours. Who’s to stop me from burning demons?”

  Galen unleashed a blast of energy intended to knock Delann senseless before his knife could harm the child. Delann turned his head toward him and grinned. The bolt of chi’ro deflected and slammed into the ground, exploding in clods of dirt and splintered rock between the launch and the uneasy spectators. Astounded, Galen tried again and witnessed another demonstration of La’il’s control over Delann.

  “You’re killing her,” Delann said. His body trembled under the onslaught of La’il’s power and the blade at Yala’s throat shook dangerously. He looked to Aletha. “Will the girl live, Aletha? Will your people live? Will Phrar? I will destroy them one by one until you give me what I need. Ask Galen if I’m known to bluff.” He winked obscenely at Galen. “This is so easy! You can’t even begin to imagine what I’m learning from this little encounter. But now it’s your turn, Galen. Let me in or the body count starts with this one.”

  With a curse, Galen exhaled sharply and dropped his guard against the La’il. Instantly, her explosive presence drove into his mind, the force of her intrusion causing him to drop to the ground, clutching his head. “How nice,” she mocked, securing her grip on him. “At last you fall to your knees before me.”

  Abruptly released by the La’il, Delann staggered backward with a startled cry. Yala twisted and bravely grasped his forearm with both hands but her captor only gaped at her, his growing grief clearly outlined on his face as he began to understand his deeds of these past hours. “By the Gods,” he whispered hoarsely. His fist slowly unclenched and the dagger tipped out of his fingers to fall to the ground. “What… Aletha, I…”

  “Go,” Aletha snapped. “Now! Get away from this place. Stay away, no matter what happens.” Something in her tone and the peculiar expression on Galen’s face convinced them to obey. Delann put a hand on Yala’s shoulder but none could say who led whom toward the people who stood in slack-jawed wonder at the edge of the trees. Now only Aletha and the twins remained near the crystal and, although a few of the others had taken their chance to flee this fearsome place, none among those who remained dared to come nearer.

  Galen came to his feet again, unaware of anything but the La’il visible only in his thoughts. “Yobar told me what you did to Thali,” he said. “Don’t do this, La’il. Not again.”

  At the mention of her betrayer, the La’il’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Yes, I heard your speech. But he was absolutely mistaken in all he told you! What a notion! Do you really think me capable of destroying these moons? I’ve consulted with the others over this matter for years. There is no danger to Thali. Or to Chenoweth.”

  “You can’t possibly believe that! Phrar is one tidal wave away from being dumped into the bay! If things had been like this from the beginning no one in their right mind would have settled here. You made this place what it is!”

  “I made the Homeworld what it is, Galen Chor, and I need Chenoweth’s power to keep it that way. You’re not about to get my way.” The La’il waved a hand as if dismissing the matter. “Let’s get this done. I know you’re trying to hide something from me. Don’t get ideas of playing martyr and trading your lives for Thali. I know you better than you do.”

  “She’d rather die than let you do this. As would I.”

  “You’ll get your turn!” The La’il slammed into his mind with a sickening barrage of images that made clear the extent of suffering Aletha and her people would endure before being allowed to die. Galen moaned, struggling to ward off the visions displayed before him. He knew quite well that bluffing was not part of La’il’s strategy. In fact, she would probably enjoy exacting the revenge she promised.

  “What is it, Galen?” Aletha asked, disturbed by the torment washing over his faces. “What is she saying to you?”

  He shook his head and held his hands out to her. “Let’s do this,” he said, aware of how unprepared Aletha was for a confrontation with the La’il and unable to warn her. He prayed that she would be able to resist the more experienced adept.

  Aletha took his upturned hands and opened her mind to his touch. Instantly, the power of the La’il flowed into her; an immeasurable force fuelled by all of the chi’ro hoarded on the Homeworld. Never had she felt this immense, so incredibly powerful as she did that moment. There was complete clarity of mind, complete understanding of Galen, whose hands she gripped, and a keen awareness of every cell in her body and most living things around her for miles. She smiled at Galen in wordless amazement, momentarily forgetting why they were here.

  “The launch, Aletha!” Galen prodded.

  Aletha’s thoughts returned to the moment and reached for the La’il through Galen. She was met with a blank, solid wall that allowed no glimpse beyond what the La’il was willing to show her. Her presence was so incredibly immense that Aletha felt like a mote of dust caught in the light of the brightest star. “She’s so cold…” she whispered. She flinched when she felt the La’il lead her to the key to opening the seals within her vast knowledge of such matters. Nodding to herself, Aletha drew the nearby riser closer and guided it toward the sealed launch behind them. She explored the crystal tentatively, following La’il’s instructions until she felt it dissolve into its natural fluid state. T
he cloudy surface of the seal began to move as something churned in its depth, ready to accept whatever conduits were placed upon it. “I think that’s it,” she whispered, awed by what she had seen in La’il’s presence. “The launch is active.”

  Both of them felt the La’il gather up the energy needed to form a conduit, her attention momentarily on her task.

  “Now!” Galen shouted. “Cut her off!”

  “Huh?” Aletha blinked as if startled out of some pleasant daydream. “What? Uh, I can’t. I think…” Aletha fumbled for her link with the woman and was swatted aside like a minor annoyance. He barely caught her when her knees gave out and she collapsed against him. “I can’t let go of her, Galen! I can’t stop her!”

  Steeling himself, he jabbed at the La’il in a desperate attempt to distract her long enough for Aletha to break free. La’il’s outraged scream blasted through their skulls when she turned on him and he felt Aletha fade, about to faint under the adept’s assault. None of their playful exercises in learning how to control mental intrusions had prepared him for the force of La’il’s resistance. “She’s getting through, Aletha,” he hissed through gritted teeth. He shook her roughly. “Cut her off! Let her go!”

  Aletha rallied, fighting desperately to expel the La’il from her mind. “Chi,” she gasped. “I’m going over!”

  Wasting no time with tapping into the nearby riser, Chor stepped forward and shoved both of them into its center. It whipped through their bodies and minds, its surge too violent to feel pleasurable or even refreshing this time. With a final, tremendous effort, the mental contact between the two women came apart. Before the La’il fully understood that she had underestimated the strength of Galen and Aletha’s combined abilities, Aletha pulled out of Galen’s grasp to break their physical link. He recoiled, his hands flying to his head, when La’il’s wordless outburst of frustration and hatred stabbed into his brain, driving both of him to his knees again.