Marikan To shuddered and turned slowly to inspect as much of the cave as she could. She finished the turn to see Tahariel staring at her. “What is it?” Her friend whispered.
“I don’t know,” Marikan To replied, nervous and shaking her head. “I feel—I feel like we’re being watched.”
Tahariel looked concerned but did not get the chance to ask more as Harbonath’s curses echoed through the cavern.
“No. No, I won’t accept that,” Harbonath cried. “We have too much prepared, and our timetables are rigid.”
Kasaro To broke into a slow grin at the aliens’ consternation, but a strange halo was forming around him. It vanished as Marikan tried to focus on it, but she saw it spreading over the priestesses too.
Harbonath seethed and rounded on the hooded figure. “Mikhal, detail a team to take new measurements. We will realign the astroid to the new patterns.”
Mikhal shook his hooded head. “We cannot, my lord. The flows have shifted widely. We would have to reorient almost three full lightyears of material to—”
Kasaro To’s laughter cut him off. The halo deepened. “You’re saying that this failure has cost you your entire plan?” He laughed again. “This asteroid is useless to you now? Hah! Then I see no reason for any of us to remain.”
“My master,” Amelial said pointedly, drawing Harbonath’s gaze from the noh. “This is a setback, nothing more. We have planned for such contingencies. This has only delayed us. Regrettable, yes, but not catastrophic. This galaxy has gained time, and with the Source revealed, they have gained opportunity. They have not gained victory. We have other chances to deny them that. Other locations exist for the Nokrian Gate to draw—”
“No!” Harbonath shouted. “No, everything is planned from this point, down to the placement of the Discord. We cannot—”
“You have failed,” Kasaro To interrupted, intent on drawing matters back to his argument.
Rage twisted Harbonath’s features but only into a more impressive form, almost majestic. Before he could speak, Tahariel stepped forward and dropped to a knee. Marikan To almost knelt too—it just seemed the obvious thing to do when addressing this alien—but managed to resist.
“My Lord Harbonath,” Tahariel said, her voice soft but echoing through the chamber all the same. “The situation is more starkly changed than you realize.” She looked up at his porcelain features. “The Source has not simply appeared; it is fully manifested and in play. And our enemies currenly possess it.”
Harbonath’s face fell. Marikan To saw the other aliens go, if possible, even paler than normal. She shook her head. Tahariel’s words sounded wrong. Marikan understood what her friend had said, but she could not make any sense of the actual words.
Amelial took a shaky step forward. “Is this true?”
Tahariel cocked her head as if asking why her mistress would doubt her but nodded all the same.
“This is too soon. The Source should not have come into the full expression of its nature yet. This has happened too quickly.” The Herald took a moment to catch her breath. “Explain.”
Tahariel hesitated and glanced at Marikan To. The noh thought it was the first time that she had seen her friend unsure. She shook off her unease for a moment and stepped forward while Tahariel’s eyes narrowed.
“There is much we do not know,” Marikan said. “But shortly before the noh and corsairs assaulted Ulyxis, I found and followed an esper trail through our fleet.” She took a breath and watched the aliens’ reactions carefully. “I discovered one of the machine people, the chee, imprisoned on a pirate vessel. To my senses, she seemed like a fountain or a spring that poured forth esper of all kinds in an endless stream.”
Everyone except the other noh clearly recognized this description. Harbonath looked dismayed but hid it well. Amelial’s eyes widened and a desperate air settled over her bearing, though desperate for what Marikan could not tell. Mikhal’s carriage shifted slightly, coming up straighter as if in the presence of divinity.
That thought made Marikan To still more anxious and she faltered. She took a steadying breath and looked at Kasaro To, knowing he wanted to hear this. “I did not know what I had found, so I returned to the Hydra’s Will and informed High Priestess Zineda.” Kasaro To’s eyes flashed. “She was interested but not concerned and dismissed me to prepare for the battle. I do not know exactly what happened then, but when I found Tahariel on the surface and told her of my discovery, she insisted that we go to that ship immediately.”
All the alien worthies nodded approval of this. Kasaro To frowned more deeply.
Marikan To licked her lips. Something about the whole conversation bothered her, but she could not pin it down. “I do know that, when we arrived, the pirates had already turned on each other, I think fighting over that chee, and High Priestess Zineda was there with several of her acolytes. I learned only later that she had been torturing the chee to understand her nature.” She shrugged. “We fought to claim the chee, but Alliance and Doctrine Knights shielded her escape. Lady Zineda apparently caught up to them, but the Relic Knight Calico Kate turned on her, betraying our alliance, and rescued the chee.”
She faltered again and hung her head. “That’s all I know, though I don’t know what it means.” She shuddered as a wave of nausea washed through her. Revulsion, like she had smelled the foulest thing imaginable, settled in her stomach. She knew that the feeling had not come from her.
“It happened as she says, Herald,” Tahariel said. “I fought, but the chaos was too great and our enemies too many.” She broke eye contact and deflated somewhat. “Between that failure and the setback here, our plans have unraveled.”
Marikan To choked. The words grated on her; their clipped and sharp sound felt alien to her ears and cut through her mind.
“Hah!” Kasaro To barked, though the laugh sounded forced. “All your plans lie in ruins, all through your own weakness.” He spit on the stone, but Marikan To shuddered and fell to her knees. In his words, she had heard the clue that she had missed thus far. She clutched her arms around herself, and Lakmi landed on her shoulder, cooing in distress. Everyone turned to look at her.
Marikan To glanced at the aliens and then looked imploringly at Kasaro To. “My lord, listen to them.” She saw his eyes darken and pushed on. “Not what they say, but their words. Listen to your own. We are speaking nohkuzu, a language none of them know.”
Tahariel nodded in agreement and immediately frown as she realized what had happened.
“And they are speaking a language I’ve never heard,” Marikan said. “We do not know their speech, Lord Kasaro To.” She felt more frightened than she ever had. “So why do we all understand everything that is said?”
Every noh priestess in the chamber twitched in unison. They jerked upright, made small, choked noises, and rose as one into the air. The halo Marikan To had seen blossomed forth around them. She smelled spice and the tang of ritual unguents. She began to shake. She could feel Him rising through her like bile. Then the voice of her god bellowed from all the priestesses and throughout the chamber.
“I have let you speak freely, so that you may reveal your failure. The Source is found and lost, by my servants.”
Even the aliens staggered. Kasaro To fell from his relic but managed to land on his feet. Marikan To felt a force like fire stab into her chest.
“Tell me that you have not spoken falsely, Marikan To,” Nozuki’s voice echoed around and through her. “Swear to me the truth of your words.”
The Sarva stuttered. She could barely breathe, but a panic that had nothing to do with the lack of air clutched at her. “Lord Nozuki,” she stammered, “I do swear.” The pain eased slightly, and breath rushed into her lungs. She gasped. “I swear that all I have said is the truth as I know it.” Tears burned down her face. A red haze had narrowed her vision. She clutched at one slim possibility that she found buried in His words and snatched another lungful of air. “My mind. Look into my mind if you doubt my word.”
<
br /> The pain eased still more, and the voice lost its edge of controlled rage. “I doubt not your word, for you have never failed in your service. But I must know all, even that which you may have forgotten or neglected.”
The fire sliced into her head like a blade. She could see nothing. Pain ripped from one temple to the other. Blood dripped onto her lips, and she realized that it came from her nose. She thought she might have screamed. She held the memories she had described foremost in her thoughts, clutching them desperately, and harboring only the faintest terror that He would probe too deeply.
Nozuki did not. Just seconds later, the pain vanished completely. Marikan To collapsed forward on the cave floor, tears and blood and spittle mixing on the stones. She felt Tahariel grabbing at her shoulders, but the gratitude at that contact faded behind what she suddenly needed to know. She rolled up to see Kasaro To. The Relic Knight clearly could not tell where to look and turned to face as many of the priestesses as he could. The Coiled God’s voice washed over them all again, and Marikan began shaking uncontrollably.
“This is not treachery. This is incompetence from one of my greatest servants. This will not be borne.”
“My lord Nozuki,” Kasaro To cried. “I will return at once and exact your righteous vengeance on your failed slaves. I will erase this stain on Dragon Fleet To with the blood of the guilty. I—”
“No,” the Hydra God said. His voice had lost much of its malice.
Marikan To managed to sit up. She wiped tears from her eyes to clear her vision. The blood had stopped, and she ineffectively tried to clean it from her lips with the back of her hand. She smiled at Tahariel as the void witch helped her stand. The alien smiled back, her expression wry.
“No,” Nozuki repeated. “You will remain here and assist your allies as they require. Much can yet be accomplished here, and they must be protected.” Kasaro To’s face fell, but he said nothing. “I will deal with my wayward priestess. Come forth, Marikan To. I have work yet for you to do.”
Marikan took two unsteady steps forward but found her balance returning quickly. “I live only to serve.”
“Yes,” the Endless Hunger said. “A lesson others are about to learn.”
A gigantic rift opened before her, the kind only the largest devices fixed on the greatest dragon ships could have managed, and even then for less than a minute. She smelled the familiar scents of home and felt the welcoming warmth blowing over her skin.
“Proceed.”
Marikan To stepped gingerly through the tear in space and nearly slipped on the smooth decking of the Hydra’s Will. She recognized the bridge spaces immediately, though she stood behind the warlord’s throne. The rift had attracted attention from the crew, and she saw wary, unsure faces approaching. She glanced back to see the priestesses in the cave collapse, gasping for air, and Tahariel hesitantly waving goodbye. Then the rift snapped shut with a sharp bang. Marikan turned to see Mamaro To standing and staring back over his seat. Zineda stood at his side, outrage coloring her features.
“What is the meaning of this, Sarva?” the priestess began. She clearly meant to continue, but something in Markian To’s expression stopped her.
“Oh, my lady,” Marikan To said without thinking. “I’m so sorry.”
The indignation on Zineda’s face dissolved into confusion and then fear. An instant later, the dragon ship shuddered around them. The air stagnated suddenly and then vibrated with Nozuki’s presence. They all felt it, and none doubted what it was for even an instant.
“My slaves,” the Hydra God said. “I know all that has transpired. I know of your attempts and of your failures.”
Panic edged into Zineda’s expression and the confusion spread to Mamaro To.
“Those responsible must answer for the latter.”
Zineda turned from the Sarva to the warlord. She started to speak, but a bright light erupted from below her. She rose, as if pulled on wires, and a fire-red glow haloed her form. With barely a shriek, she seemed to implode, her limbs snapped and her body crushed as it flowed inexorably through a narrow rift. She vanished. The light faded.
The voice returned. “She held the greatest prize of all, my prize, in her claws and let it escape. Seek it now, for your lives. Seek the chee called Cordelia. She is the Source of all that will come. And now, because Kasaro To has also failed me, you must race to find her. Do not fail me again.”
The pressure lifted almost instantly as the divine presence disappeared. Everyone on the bridge took another few seconds to start breathing again, however. They all looked to Mamaro To. The warlord continued to stare at the space where Zineda had vanished. Markian To thought that he looked more sad than chastened. Finally, he shook his head and barked, “Back to your stations. We’ve neglected our duty too long.” As the crew scrambled to obey, the warlord turned to Marikan To. “Well, huntress, it seems you’ve a new mission. How soon can you begin?”
* * *
Malya stood in the darkened cabin and watched the flashes of battle recede. The Marianne and its surviving corsair companions were withdrawing under cover of the paladin corvettes and two newly arrived destroyers. The dragon ships had fallen back, both badly damaged, and now only the strange aliens stood between the asteroid and the surrounding fleets. She heard soft movement and the quiet murmuring of water as Soliel moved to stand beside her.
“Captain Harker is stable,” the corsair Knight said. “I believe the esper your cypher contributed is responsible for keeping him alive this long. Caesar could not have done it alone.” She nodded in clear, grateful thanks.
“You’re welcome,” Malya said. She turned back to the armored glass viewports. “So what happens now?”
“Now? Hmm.” Soliel considered for a moment. “I do not know your paladins as well as you do, but I imagine they will not abandon this place when they finally have their enemy before them.”
“Indeed we won’t,” Isabeau said. Malya turned to see the Purifier—her wounds tended and hair bound around her head—stride stiffly into the cabin. “We have already begun establishing a cordon. When more ships from the Order of the Red Shield arrive, we’ll have a proper blockade and begin the siege works.” She nodded toward the distant asteroid. “Their gate is down, you said, which means that they can’t move people through it at all or only very little, if they can repair it. Either way, if they want to break out of this area, or rescue their people here, they’re going to have to do it the old-fashion way.” She smiled only slightly. “For all the mysteries here, that one we understand. That one we can handle.” She took a deep, steadying breath and turned to fully face Malya. “We’ve had word from Ulyxis.”
The princess froze. Sudden trepidation gripped her and sent shots of cold fear radiating out from her stomach.
Isabeau’s widening smile somehow did not dispel that. “Your family is fine. The attack was repulsed, though Hauer suggests that it was stopped rather than repelled. Of course, that’s how Hauer thinks.” She shrugged, smiling. “He believes that something separate from the fighting on the surface happened to cause the noh and pirates to retreat. There was some kind of falling out, apparently. Several pirate bands turned on each other, some attacked the noh, and then the whole thing fell apart.”
Malya sighed, and only then realized that she had been holding her breath. “Gods of our fathers, some good news. Is Hauer all right?”
She nodded. “Banged up, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. Apparently, the Black Diamond troops held their ground like champs. He singles out One Shot for particular praise, though that’s about what I’d look for from a Relic Knight.”
Malya slumped against the armored viewport and scrubbed at her face. “Oh good. I guess—I guess I owe my father a note.”
Soliel looked at the princess strangely, and Isabeau quirked an eyebrow at her. “I’d have thought a visit at least, but it’s your family, I suppose,” the paladin said.
Malya frowned a bit until she saw Mr. Tomn glaring at her. “Yeah, yeah. I j
ust, you know, don’t want to go back there. I’m afraid they won’t let me leave.” She shook the feeling off and straightened up. “Any idea what made the bad guys leave?”
“No,” the Purifier said, turning thoughtful, “but Hauer suspects it had to do with an incident in orbit. A Doctrine ship was operating, cloaked, up there during the battle. Some kind of rescue mission. They pulled someone or something off of one of the pirate flagships and escaped the system. The attack seems to have fallen apart around that mission.” She shrugged. “Apparently, Fritz, One Shot’s cypher, had tried to pull her out of the battle to assist in the rescue, though that’s out of character for him. When that didn’t work, he suddenly changed his mind and insisted that they help the Doctrine ship escape. He said something about keeping the Source out of enemy hands.”
Both cyphers went rigid at that and turned toward Isabeau. She stared back at them warily. The cyphers exchanged glances, and Mr. Tomn nodded.
“The Source has appeared,” he said, and it sounded like a pronouncement. “The Calamity has come.”
“What? I thought we stopped the Calamity,” Malya nearly shouted.
“No,” Mr. Tomn replied quickly. “Not exactly. We have delayed it, though. Our enemy isn’t destroyed, and they’re still interfering.” Soliel’s cypher nodded. “But now we have time.”
“For what?”
“To do this properly,” Mr. Tomn said. “The Source is a conduit for esper, the valve that will let it flow into the universe from the void. Whoever controls the Source can determine which kind of esper is favored, which kind predominates.” He pointed from Malya to Isabeau. “Creation, Law, et cetera. If the wrong people get it at the wrong time . . .” He let the thought hang. “Because we fought here, because we won, there’s time.”
“So,” Malya said slowly, “the fight’s not over?”
“No,” Mr. Tomn said, and he sounded genuinely sad. “It’s just getting started.”
Darkspace Calamity Page 24