Star-Born Mage
Page 22
“Mag-rifles for Class 3 and above spells,” Dacre continued. “Mag-cannons for heavy duty spells, amplifying the aura further to inflict maximum damage on starships and other space vessels.”
“And now you’re looking for something even more powerful,” Coffee said.
Dacre said nothing.
“Don’t get your space britches in a bunch. I’m not judging, just pointing out the facts. And that pretty sword of yours—did the Alliance design it too?”
Dacre shook his head. Mag-blades were the one piece of magical technology the Alliance couldn’t take credit for. The mystery of such technology was still hidden to them. Everyone knew mag-blades were produced by the Gremolins deep inside their caverns. They limited the number sold to the Alliance to only a handful a year. No one knew if that was because they were expensive and time-consuming to produce, or if the Grems were merely controlling the supply to keep the value somewhere between exorbitant and priceless. Ever since the Grems seceded from the Alliance, however, the supply had been cut off, making every mag-blade, like his, exponentially more valuable.
“The Alliance inspectors weren’t just searching for new mag-weapons,” Dacre said. “They wanted the secret to mag-blades too.”
“Now you’re catching on,” Coffee said. “But they found neither. This isn’t exactly the Grems first space rodeo. But now you think you’ll be able to do what the Alliance could not.”
Dacre shrugged. “I crossed them twice already, and I’m not dead yet.”
“Wait till you get to the hundredth time before looking for a correlation,” Coffee said. “I’m only halfway there and I don’t expect to make it the rest of the way. I live every day like it’s my last.”
Dacre was about to respond when one of the Cir’u’non hissed a warning. They stopped, and Coffee and his crew isolated their lights on the end of the trail, which had finally arrived. The rock face was carved into what could only be described as a face. The gnarled scalp was hairless save for a few tufts of moss-like flora growing in random spots. The deep-set eyes were sunken, dragging halfway onto the pocked cheeks, which flanked dual nose-slits. The maw was a massive rend in the rock and appeared to be screaming soundlessly. All in all, the carving gave Dacre the creeps.
If he wasn’t a member of a tough-as-nails alien race from millions of lightyears away he might’ve turned and run away screaming. Instead, he started forward. “C’mon,” he said. “Time to be digested.”
Chapter 26
Big-ass asteroid
Twice Tramone had started to raise his hand, opening his mouth to call for his supe. And twice he’d lowered his hand and closed his mouth. What would he say to her anyway? Excuse me, ma’am, there’s something out there eating planets. Should I file a report? She’d laugh in his face and tell him to go back to playing pointless hologames. His job was to look for what was there—potential threats—not what wasn’t there.
So instead Tramone did some research. He started with known asteroids and meteors that were being tracked through the universe. There were thousands, most of which were billions of lightyears away from the Godstar Galaxy. The number that would come within a hairsbreadth—which meant only a million lightyears away—were less than a hundred. And none would actually enter the galaxy. Or so they thought.
But all those asteroids had substantial mass, which showed up on their long-distance radar. And when they happened to run into something, like a planet or star, there would be a cataclysmic event, like a cosmic fireworks display. Not just a blip winking out like a fried lightbulb.
This thing, if it was an asteroid, had never been identified nor tracked. And it didn’t show up as a blip or a dash or anything. It was simply a mass of nothingness, only identifiable by what vanished from its passing. Like the two additional blips that were now no more. Kelvin and Martin, Tramone had nicknamed them months ago. In his mind, they were comedians, always joking with each other, hurling clever insults across the void of space between them.
Now gone.
Tramone was suddenly aware that he was breathing rapidly, the short, sharp bursts emerging from his lips like he was a pregnant woman about to deliver. The tech-heads on either side were staring at him, their brows furrowed. Not in concern, but in disgust. Some of the tech-heads were friends, had social lives that involved each other. Not Tramone. If someone spoke to him the wires in his brain always crossed and he lost all ability to speak. Usually they gave up shortly after that, and his heart was able to beat again.
He forced his breathing to slow, and just for show he resumed his hologame, going through the motions as his mage raced across the terrain of an alien planet somewhere outside of the Godstar Galaxy.
The two tech-heads stopped staring, and Tramone used his second screen to resume watching the path of the…whatever it was that was making mincemeat of the universe.
Could it be a massive asteroid that was cloaked somehow? But that didn’t explain how it managed to change direction, zigzagging across space at speeds of millions of lightyears per hour. Unless…
What if it wasn’t zigzagging at all? What if there were no changes in direction, the object rocketing toward them without straying from its path?
His heart hammered in his chest. It was the only thing that made sense, and would explain why the line he’d drawn on his screen between the zigzags was so perfectly straight, like the gridlines of a cannon sight aimed at the heart of the Godstar Galaxy.
And if it was travelling in a straight line, the only way it could take out planets and stars so far in each direction was if it stretched wide enough to do so.
Which would make it one big-ass asteroid, many times larger than any that were known and tracked, its berth hundreds of thousands of kilometers wide.
Plus, there was the whole stealth thing.
Tramone’s hands began to shake. Because if it wasn’t a brainless asteroid that happened to be hurtling directly toward them due to the randomness of creation, then it was the other thing he preferred not to think about.
Someone was piloting it. Someone was coming for them. Someone that ate planets.
On Tramone’s second screen, he didn’t notice as his mage was devoured by a ravenous half-wolf, half-centipede that had snuck up behind him. Bones cracked and his MAG/EXP points dropped all the way down to zero.
Game over.
Chapter 27
Hard lessons
According to Miranda, the Greystorm was the Centaurians’ planet-ship’s primary weapon. To the naked eye, it appeared to be a massive grey storm, roiling and churning, spitting lightning and rumbling with thunder. In reality, this was all created by technology powered by the ship’s aura reserves. The ship, the Demonstrous, didn’t destroy planets so much as absorb them, harvesting any aura it could, replenishing its stores and allowing it to travel to the next planet, the next star system, the next galaxy. Never stopping, never ceasing.
To the Centaurians that inhabited the Demonstrous, such violence happened behind the scenes. They knew of it but didn’t really pay much attention. They lived their lives. They had jobs. They had families. They ate meals together. They laughed. The details were someone else’s problem.
“The Council of Three,” Miranda said now. “They plan for the future. They decide where to send our probes, which detect the density of aura reserves. They plot our course hundreds of years in advance, calculating the distances and how long the ship can survive until its next big harvest. When they identify a prime target, they send out scouts on smaller, faster ships, years in advance. Children who’ve been taught what to do.”
“Like you. And Dacre,” Vee said, a twinge of disgust in her tone. She still couldn’t believe she’d let him touch her. That she’d given him a piece of her. A piece of her heart.
By the godstars, does that mean Ava is half-Centaurian?
The thought made her ill. She clenched her abdomen to stifle the feeling and asked, “Are all your people mages?”
Miranda shook her head. “No. We ar
e much like most races, except…”
“Except what? Listen, you’ve told us this much, are you really going to hold back now?”
Miranda sighed. “Sorry, I’m—I’ve been trained to be a spy. I’ve dealt in secrets and subversive plots my entire life. It’s not an easy thing to unlearn.”
“You think I care about any of that?” Vee said, heat rising in her chest. Aura hummed through her veins. “You’ve just told me of your people’s plot to destroy this entire galaxy without hesitation or thought. All I want to know is how I can stop it. Black Hole, I don’t even know if I should believe you. You’ve lied to me plenty of times before.”
“But not now. Why would I make all this up?”
Vee wasn’t sure, but she wasn’t about to trust without question. Not ever again. “How do we stop the Demonstrous, this…Greystorm?”
“Find Dacre. First and foremost. He is going to finish what we started all those years ago. Knock out all that’s left of the Alliance’s defenses.”
“And then what? You said it yourself, this weapon is unstoppable. It will destroy us whether we have an entire galaxy of mages and mag-weapons to try to fight it. Right? Am I missing something?”
“No. You’re not. But you also have a mage Centaurian. If I can use the weapon Dacre seeks, and the prime artifact, and the aura reserves on Jurnum, maybe the spell will be amplified enough to protect the galaxy. Even if only temporarily.”
Vee scoffed. “You think a Class 5 spell, even magnified by an artifact and a stupid weapon, will be enough to stop a galaxy destroyer? And you tell me I’m the aura addict. Seems you’ve been dipping into the supply.”
Miranda’s voice dropped lower. “It won’t be a Class 5 spell.”
Vee partially closed one eye. “Are you telling me you achieved Class 6? There’s only one known mage in history to gain enough MAG/EXP points to get to 6. His body couldn’t sustain it and he had a massive heart attack.”
“Not 6, no.”
“I don’t understand.”
“The Alliance created the MAG/EXP point system. They created the Classes. My people don’t compare each other in that way. There are simply the less powerful and the more powerful. I’m in the more powerful category. If I hadn’t used magic to tamper with my counter, I would’ve been swiftly discovered at the Academy.”
“Which Class are you?” Vee asked evenly.
“I don’t know. My counter only reads 5+. But it’s more than 6. 7? 8? 10? Who knows?”
Vee breathed in and out, trying to process this new information. “And Dacre?”
“We were chosen to lead the scout team for a reason,” Miranda said. “We were the two most powerful.”
It keeps getting better and better, Vee thought. The father of my child is an alien and a Class 10 mage. Great. Let’s crack open a bottle of sparkling aura to celebrate.
“Let’s say I believe you, and I help you find Dacre. What then? I help you get to Jurnum. You do your powerful mage thing and fire this mythical weapon while kissing Dacre’s stolen prime artifact and gulping down mouthfuls of aura, then—”
“I would need to shoot the stuff right into my bloodstream,” Miranda interjected.
“Fine. We can do that too. But what happens? You blow up your own people with a nuclear spell?”
Miranda shook her head. “The Demonstrous’s defenses are too powerful. Any aggressive spell would be countered. A defensive one, however, might be able to stop the Greystorm long enough to work out another solution. We could negotiate with the Council of Three. Sue for peace.”
“Negotiate? You just told me these Three plotted years ago to destroy us. You really think they’ll talk?”
“Honestly, I don’t know. They might. All they want is for my people’s way of life to endure. There might be a peaceful solution, if both parties are willing to compromise.”
Vee didn’t trust this woman as far as she could throw her. And she was starving for some more aura, a gnawing sensation that started in her gut and worked its way through the whole of her body. Plus, inexplicably, Dacre was at the core of everything. That was something she couldn’t deny. First find Dacre. Then deal with Miranda. “Okay,” she said.
“Okay?”
“Yeah. C’mon aboard. You might as well fly with us if you’re just going to follow us across the galaxy anyway.”
Miranda’s expression wasn’t one of gratitude, but a miasma of confusion, her thin, dark brows scything downward. Vee turned and walked away. After a few moments, she heard the clomp of boots as Miranda and her retinue followed.
~~~
“Nice time of year to be visiting the red planet, no?” Minnow said as Frank steered their starship above the rocky terrain. “Forty degrees Celsius. And that’s before the sun comes up.”
“I’m hoping to get a tan,” Vee said.
“We’ll lose a few pounds of water weight, too, I expect. It’ll be like spending a month on a spa planet.”
Terry only shook his head, and Vee was glad to find him feeling well enough to be exasperated with their antics. He could have died, she thought. Was this how her mother had felt when she came back from war? Wondering what might have been? Who could’ve been saved and who was almost lost? For the first time in her life, she thought she understood a speck of what her mother’s life had been. One percent of one percent. She had the urge to speak to McGee but tamped it down. That would have to wait until later. Anyway, the mage was nowhere to be found. He had a knack for hiding, and all the extra bodies on board seemed to make him uncomfortable. He’d snuck away almost as soon as they’d left for Urkusk.
“Godstarsforsaken planet,” Frank muttered.
“What?” Vee asked.
“Nowhere to land.”
“Are you certain this is the right place?” Miranda asked.
“I’m a cat, not a fool,” he said, firing a sharp glare at her.
“I said I’m sorry,” she said.
“Then release me from this prison.”
“No can do, furball. The spell was permanent.”
“I’ve never heard of a ‘permanent’ spell,” Vee said.
“You’ve also never met a Centaurian. Well, before Dacre and I.”
Vee gritted her teeth. Dacre and I. She had a feeling Miranda was going to lord the truth over her every second of every minute they were forced to endure each other’s company. Why should I care? she thought. He’s an alien and trying to destroy us all. He deserves none of what I have left.
“I’ve got something,” Frank said, snapping her out of her reverie.
Vee saw the heat signature on one of the holoscreens. It was faint, like the cooling engine of a star-rig, and yet still hotter and brighter than the surrounding landscape. If it wasn’t still early morning, they might’ve missed it completely. “Bring her down.”
“Layla, full landing mode,” Frank said, caressing the control ropes with both paws, bringing their path into line with the approaching heat signature. If the Jackals had managed to land a full-sized star-rig, then surely there must be enough room for them too.
Comin’ right up, the A.I. said. I’ll have ya down faster’n a barfight at a honkytonk.
“I hope that means fast,” Vee said.
“And safely,” Terry added.
“And fun,” said Minnow.
Miranda rolled her eyes, which made Vee smile just a little.
In the end, Frank did an expert job of sliding their massive vessel into the canyon, slipping just past the downed star-rig and rumble-bouncing across the rough terrain just as the local godstar crested the red, stone ridge.
“Good job,” Miranda said.
Frank hissed at her but began to work his way through the post-landing procedures while the A.I. assisted him in her twangy voice.
“What do you know about this planet?” Miranda asked Vee.
“What is this, some kind of a quiz?”
“No, just looking for intel. I never expected to be here. This wasn’t part of the plan.”
“What do you want to know?” Terry asked, sliding coolly between the two women.
Miranda said, “What to expect. What defenses do the Gremolins have? Are there any dangerous conditions or hazards? Wildlife? We should perform a full recon before we move out.”
Terry said, “I’ve been here twice.”
Vee stared at him. “What? How did I not know this?” She’d never known anyone who’d been to Urkusk. Well, technically she had—Terry—she just hadn’t been aware of it.
“I don’t wear my past on my skin,” he said. “I came to the Arch for a new life, not to dwell on the old one.” It was a cryptic answer, and Vee had a dozen other questions, but he was already answering Miranda’s other questions. “The Grems and Chameleots have always understood each other more than most races. We typically don’t stray far from our home planets. We like to be left alone. We are comfortable in our own skin.” On cue, his skin changed hue rapidly, a miasma of colors and patterns.
“Amazing,” Minnow said, his eyes wide. Vee chuckled. She’d seen Terry’s bar tricks hundreds of times, but they were still fresh and new to the Minot.
“You think?” Terry said. He pretended to shrug off the compliment, but Vee knew from experience he lived to impress others. Always a showman. “Back home I’d be called ‘normal.’ People always assume I’m one of your lot—a mage—just because I can change how I look. But all people change, Chameleot or not. Sometimes it’s just harder to see the changes when they occur on the inside.”
“Fascinating,” Miranda said, pretending to yawn. “Can we get back on track? Urkusk.”