by Azalea Ellis
Adam was silent for a couple beats too long.
Torliam turned to him, an incredulous look on his face. “An honest man always pays his debts!” he muttered, before turning back to the door. “Err," Torliam cleared his throat and raised his voice to be heard through the barrier. "Hello again—"
The old man fumbled with the pocket of his thick robe, then pulled out a gun that looked like it belonged in a museum.
"Shields!" I yelled, the word bursting out almost before I made the conscious decision to speak.
Adam blinked, then jerked a hand toward one of the ink cartridges at his waist.
Torliam's hand was already rising, blue glow flowing outward and around us with a distinctly superhuman reaction time.
It was barely enough. The man pulled the trigger, the gun let out an ear-shattering bang, and the metal ball slammed right through the door and into Torliam's shield, where it compressed like slightly warm chocolate pressed into a pan.
Torliam stared at the bullet suspended in front of his face. His eyes followed it as it fell to the ground.
"Now I'm glad I let you go first," Zed said, also staring at the bullet.
Torliam turned to glare at him. After a couple seconds of awkward silence, he huffed, then turned back and ran a hand through his dirty blonde hair dismissively, making sure it settled smoothly to his shoulders. Then, he raised an arrogant eyebrow, lifted his foot, and kicked down the door, tearing the reinforcements out of the wall, along with the entire doorframe. It fell forward into the brightly lit interior, and he walked onto it, dramatically pushing his power-created shield before him and stopping the next five shots from the old gun.
The weapon clicked impotently. When the old man realized it was empty, he scowled, hauled back, and threw it right at Torliam’s head.
It, of course, also bounced off the shield and fell to the floor.
“Whadda ya want with me?” he yelled.
“We wish to borrow the use of your boat once again,” Torliam said calmly, taking up a disproportionate amount of space in the entranceway.
The man clenched his jaw a couple times, then seemed to deflate. He rubbed his hands across the grizzled stubble on his cheeks. “Oh. Thought you were gonna remove th’ evidence o’ where you escaped to. Shut me up, as it were.”
“Escaped?” I said, narrowing my eyes.
“I ain’t stupid. I can recognize a face bein’ played on the screens as well as any other man.”
Adam turned to me, a question on his face, along with an implied threat toward the old man.
I shook my head in response. “Did you tell anyone our location? I hear there’s a reward.”
The man snorted, but refrained from spitting on his own floor. He emphasized his words more, this time. “I ain’t stupid. I kept my mouth shut and bought bullets for my grandpa’s gun. ‘Cept the gun didn’t work out too well, did it?”
I couldn’t help the little smirk at the edge of my mouth. “That’s true. And if you’d decided to collect on that reward, they would have killed you already.” That last bit probably wasn’t true, but I figured a little extra incentive not to rat on us to NIX or the Department of Defense couldn’t hurt. “Go get dressed. The trip this time is going to be quite a bit longer.”
The man grimaced and stomped away.
“Someone go guard him, just in case,” I said.
“That went well, I think,” Zed said, nodding happily.
Adam stared at him incredulously.
“Oh, come on!” Zed said. “Nothing went catastrophically wrong. One shield and a short conversation, and we’ve got what we came for. None of us are even injured!”
When our captain was ready, we went out to his boat and loaded it up, this time bringing our bikes with us instead of two big pallets of supplies. The boat ride took many hours as we navigated around the huge island and moved south.
I found Birch at the prow of the ship, lashing out into the air with little flashes of Chaos. Bursts of warmth wafted back from him, but whatever he was attempting didn’t seem to be working. He flatted his ears and lowered his head, letting out a low whine.
“What are you trying to do?” I said, settling in beside him.
He pressed his nose to my arm, and my mind filled with an image of Chaos’ black tendrils causing wood to burst into flame, and then the image of a fireball incinerating an evil-looking rat.
I nodded. I’d used Chaos to create fire a couple times. I’d used it to heat food and attack enemies once I got the hang of it, and, apparently, he also wanted to learn this technique. “Well, to make it easier, I think I should teach you a little bit of basic science first. Everything around us is made up of tiny little pieces called molecules, which are made up of even tinier things called atoms. They’re so small that you can’t see them, but you can still affect them to create change.”
Birch stared at me, his cat features somehow expressing extreme dubiousness.
“It’s true!” I insisted.
I taught him for a while longer, and then we moved onto practical exercises, creating short-lasting fireballs in the air in front of the ship. Since the boat owner knew about us already, and there was no one else around to see, I didn’t feel the need for secrecy.
The smell of burnt sea air and the light of the pseudo-fireworks put us all in a good mood.
Birch put his nose to my skin again and, this time, sent me a thought I knew was straight from his imagination. He showed me myself, not recognizable by my facial features, but by my smell, the taste of my blood, the vague sense of my personality as he saw it, and two legs. I was surrounded by other, much smaller two-legged people, and, as I walked, I left behind a misty afterimage of Chaos, which bloomed into light like a thousand lightning bugs. The other two-legs smelled of awe. He sent me a sense of eagerness, and then pulled back.
I grinned and ruffled the hair on his head. “I guess that would be pretty cool, huh?” Feeling light and a little silly, I decided to try it. Letting Chaos waft out behind me when I walked only took a couple tries, and even that looked kind of cool.
Figuring out how to set it on fire without creating one large, Eve-shaped fireball was quite a lot harder. After a few experiments, I threaded almost invisible filaments of more condensed Chaos into the cloud, and at the tips of them, I heated the air in random pulses. It looked like I was shedding smoke and stars.
Gregor, Kris, and Jacky came over to cheer my antics on, while I tried to teach Birch how to create the same effect for himself.
The old man had been watching us since the beginning, in between puttering around his boat. His wariness seemed to have been replaced by obstinate pride and a heavy dose of curiosity as we spent more time together without killing him. Now, he stomped over with a scowl on his face. “What’re you doin,’ messin’ around with light shows? You won’t be killin’ no aliens with them pretty sparkles. Damn flighty kids. Go back to practicin’ your fireballs! Lethal attacks, that’s whatcha need!” He stomped away back to the wheelhouse, muttering about how kids these days didn’t have proper discipline, and we’d all get ourselves killed if not for him.
Finally, long after the sun would have risen were we nearer the equator, we arrived at the coast of the main continent.
We unloaded what supplies we had left and carefully moved our bikes down the worn, shaky ramp.
“You goin’ back south to keep fightin’, then?” the old man asked, his weathered face set in a permanent scowl.
“We are going to stop the war,” Torliam said, climbing onto his bike.
The man harrumphed, then nodded. “Good. If you need a ride again, next time don’t be breakin’ down my door. Just ask nicely.” He turned to Adam. “No need to be transferin’ credits to me. I’m just doin’ my duty as a human member o’ the resistance.” He nodded like an aristocrat, then stomped back onto his boat without a backward glance.
Zed frowned, sharing a look with the rest of us. Under his breath, he said, “He’s acting like he never tried to shoo
t us with a gun. We tried knocking and asking nicely first, both times!”
Jacky shrugged. “Well, we also broke down his door, both times. I guess it evens out, yeah?”
As we rode south with an urgency that only allowed for short breaks, we kept watch on the news. We were unsurprised when the Estreyans moved on the same city we were headed to. I wasn’t sure whether to be satisfied that we’d judged correctly, or horrified at what this meant for the city if we couldn’t get there quickly and succeed in our mission.
By the time we arrived, the energy barrier already shimmered around the city like a soap bubble, stretching miles in every direction.
We rode slowly along the edge, hoping to run into an Estreyan patrol. Other than that, I didn’t have any real plan to draw the attention of the Estreyans. I figured that, if nothing else, we’d encourage an investigation if we started attacking the barrier.
People had gathered on the inside edge of it and were attacking it and being thrown back. They noticed us and began to scream for help. I wasn’t wearing my helmet or my shemagh, and, along with the fact that the makeup of my ten-person group was now pretty iconic, many of them recognized us from the news. We quickly drew a moving crowd of hopeful, desperate people tracking our progress around the edges of the city.
They made me uncomfortable. I could smell their unwashed bodies mixed with smoke and a faint smell of rot that accompanied a lack of electricity. I was too familiar with that animal look of panic in their eyes. They’d been dragged into something horrific and deadly, and they wanted so desperately to live, they would do anything. But there were no Seeds to make them stronger. They had no way to fight back against the forces that had taken their lives and destroyed the world they once knew. I tried to ignore them at first, but finally the tension gathering in my shoulders was too much. I stopped, and turned to the growing crowd. I raised a hand for silence, and after a few seconds of increased excitement, they gave it.
“We are here to negotiate a ceasefire with the Estreyans,” I called out. “I don’t expect the barrier to be lowered right away, but we do have a cure for all those who have been bitten, or otherwise infected with the new meningolycanosis virus affecting many of your neighbors. After the end of this war has been finalized, you will receive treatment. I do not anticipate any violence between us and the Estreyans. Please, go home, and await treatment and supplies.”
I continued driving, and once they realized I was finished talking, they exploded into sound. They shouted pleas or accusations and screamed questions. Perhaps I should have stayed silent in the first place, because my words hadn’t done any good. The people on the other side kept following, scrambling to keep up with the slow roll of my bike.
It turned out there was no need for me to draw any extra attention, as we encountered an Estreyan ship patrolling the inside of the barrier after a little while longer.
The crowd members screamed and scattered, elbowing each other and running over those who had fallen in their haste to get away.
The ship turned toward my group, ignoring the escaping civilians.
I bowed, imitating one of the greetings Torliam had shown me back on Estreyer. Zed handed me the modified megaphone Adam had created, and I raised it to my lips. The crystal symbol of Voice came to life at my throat, lending my words power. “Greetings. I am Eve-Redding, and I wish to be taken to your leader. We have found the cure to the Sickness.”
The ship floated there, its crustacean-like wings and tail lazily moving through the air. I couldn’t see through any of the windows, but I was sure the Estreyans within were staring out at us. The ship sank nearer the ground, and a hole opened up in the side, spilling out five Estreyans.
A woman with bright copper hair led the others, stopping on the other side of the barrier, directly in front of me. “Please display the three gifts and the mark of Testimony,” she said. When I showed her the Oracle’s last gift, still unsolved, her eyes narrowed. “You have found the cure, you say, though the third gift does not yet crown your brow? Though you have escaped to Earth and abandoned your duties for the sake of the Earthlings, and have even allied with the enemy against us?” Her tone was cold and accusing. “Do you think to deceive us with talk once again, while the allies of the Sickness gather in secret to ambush us?”
“Are they all so idiotic?” Gregor muttered spitefully to himself.
I suppressed the urge to groan aloud. “You have been deceived, but not by me. The path to the Champion was always through Earth, but indeed, he was not on Earth. We have not shirked our duties, and we have not allied against you, merely protected ourselves when your fellow warriors attempted to use force as a means to hinder our quest for the cure. The attack by NIX was not of our doing.”
She continued to glare.
I sighed. “I can prove the truth of my words. If I am lying, you will know the truth immediately, as I would not be able to cure the Sickness. I am not lying. I can check you and all your warriors, and if any of you have been infected, whether the signs have become apparent yet or not, I can cure you.”
Her glare faltered, then. “In return for healing, what do you wish?”
“Take me to the leader of the invasion’s forces. There is much to do, to stop the spread of the Sickness and end this foolish war.”
She hesitated for a moment longer, but the lure of healing for the Sickness, which might be festering inside any of them, unknown, proved too much temptation. With a nod from her, the remaining four Estreyans stepped forward and placed what looked like stones against the barrier at precise points. The barrier shimmered, and a hole opened up between the stones.
“Come through, if it pleases you, Godkiller,” the woman said.
I did, and my teammates followed, walking beside our bikes.
“I must see the method of this cure, before you are given access to our ship, Eve-Redding. I mean no disrespect, but I cannot go against my orders without significant justification.”
“That’s fine. Who do you want me to examine first?”
She gestured to one of the warriors. “Jarrel has been exhibiting some…erratic behaviors. I have hoped it was only the results of battle-stress, but in my heart, I worried.”
The others stepped away from him, and the man she’d pointed to moved forward hesitantly. He bowed. It was the bow of deep respect that Torliam had shown me and told me that I should probably never use unless I was meeting a god, because it would undermine my supposedly high social status.
“I must draw your blood,” I said. “Give me your hand.”
He hurriedly stripped off his armored glove and knelt on one knee as he held his palm up to me.
I drew the lance from the sparkling band woven around my left forearm, and solemnly pierced his skin with it. With the first drop of blood, that familiar light rushed into my mind. “The Sickness is within you,” I said.
He shuddered, and looked up at me with quiet desperation. “Even so, you can heal me?”
I smiled, hoping I looked benevolent and powerful. “Do not fear.” I closed my eyes and fed power through the lance, letting it re-write his damaged sections, till the language of his body was a continuous whole. “It is done.”
He took a deep breath, his cheeks flushed and eyes wide. “I can feel it. I am cured! The day of prophecy has come!”
His fellow warriors hesitated for only a second, before pressing forward around him and talking over each other. “Eve-Redding, please examine me as well, I beg you!” “I am worthiest of your benevolence, Godkiller.” “I fear the Sickness dwells in me as well. I will grant you any boon you wish, if you will but heal me.”
Their leader snapped at them to show honor and stand back, and they complied reluctantly, staring at me like starving dogs in front of a steak they weren’t allowed to eat. Then, she gave me the same deep bow of ultimate respect. “I am the captain of this humble ship,” the woman said, straightening and meeting my eyes. “My name is Milan, of the line of Drethel.”
I bowed in retu
rn, less deeply than she had done to me. “Well met.”
“You and your companions wish to be taken to Commander Levier? He is the commander of this city’s destroyer, as well as the war force here on Earth. He reports directly to Queen Mardinest.”
We’d gotten lucky, then. I wasn’t going to complain, as it didn’t happen often enough, as far as I was concerned. “Yes, take us to him.”
There was silence as they escorted us onto the ship, which was much larger than the scout ship, Lady Ladriel, that Torliam had once owned, but many times smaller than the gargantuan destroyers. Then, one of the Estreyans, who had been eyeing us silently the whole time, burst out, “Have you really discovered the cure to the Sickness? Did you find the Champion? Is he returning?”
Captain Milan turned to him with a severe frown, but I smiled, and she didn’t reprimand him.
I spoke loudly, letting my words travel to those looking on with curiosity. “We have indeed discovered the cure. We also found the god. He has been in a hidden realm, using his strength to slow the spread of the Sickness. He remained there to continue his part of the fight.” I remembered the crumbling sky, and hoped my words were true. “But he imparted on us, on the Seal of Nine, the means to cure the Sickness before sending us back from his realm.”
One of the others muttered, “Is this really happening? I must make an offering of thanks to the gods.”
We came into a larger room where more Estreyans waited, fully armed.
“Stand down,” the captain said. “It is truly Eve-Redding, and it seems she has succeeded in her quest. No harm shall come to her or hers. Set a course for Commander Levier’s ship. The godkiller and curer of the Sickness wishes to speak with him.”
There were gasps and shared looks all around, followed by excited mutterings and deep bows.
“My father has the Sickness, we believe,” a woman said. “He has displayed early symptoms only, as of yet, but has been preparing his affairs before turning himself in to be cleansed in death by fire. Can you cure him?”