Hatchling

by Chris Fox

  It was a lot and I knew it, but the mandibles wiggled in what I took for thought. The creature was highly intelligent, a scholar of some sort if the staff was any indication.

  “Who…draaaagon?” The creature waved its staff at the membrane that Visala had disappeared to.

  “I’ve never seen the Wyrm before.” I kept my tone carefully neutral. It wasn’t a lie. Hopefully he chalked anything odd up to communicating in a strange language. “She attacked our ship. She must have been after something we were carrying.” Also the truth.

  “Why you come…here?” The thing’s head cocked at a sharp right angle with the last word, an angle that would have snapped my neck.

  Oh, crap.

  I came to rob you blind wasn’t exactly the way to open a dialogue. I considered the situation, and framed it in a way that didn’t paint us as thieves.

  “The Inuran Consortium, powerful magitech artificers, are coming to claim the Great Ships. They will come here, and kill all of you.” All true. I folded my arms. “I’m hoping to form alliances, and learn who our neighbors are. And, I’m not going to lie, we’re trying to raise the money to pay off the Consortium, or stop them through force.”

  The drake turned without a word and shambled over to its companions. It went on for a while, and the drake who’d spoken to me seemed to be on the losing side.

  They were pondering our fate, and if I was right it didn’t look good for us. Sometimes I hate being right.

  The creature turned back. It snapped up its staff in two clawed appendages, and fire magic lanced down the ebony length, until a fire bolt discharged from the tip and streaked into my unprotected face.

  5

  Flame boiled over my face, into my nostrils, my eyes, and even my ears. The spell was hideously powerful, the magnitude increased beyond what I could manage had I been casting it. I don’t know why the relative strength of the mage shooting me in the face mattered at that precise moment, but my mind is a strange place.

  The clarity of pain drove the idle thoughts out as I lost vision in both eyes and clattered to the deck. I knew I’d only have a heartbeat to act. Any longer and the drake-thing might hit me again, and I wasn’t sure I could survive another spell.

  I reached for the void in my chest, and poured the magic into the suit. I activated a spell I’d never used, but knew from hours of Arena. I blinked.

  Blinking is a short range teleport that will carry through the Umbral Depths. My already seared skin was instantly covered by frost, and had my eyes not been closed I’d have lost them.

  Then I reappeared with a shivering gasp, inside the Remora’s cargo bay. I could hear movement around me, and voices, but none of it penetrated the pain, or the darkness. I was blind.

  “It’s all right, Jerek,” Vee murmured into my ear. “Relax into my arms. Breathe. Focus on that and only that.”

  I did as she asked, and relaxed back against her chest, though I couldn’t stop the series of pained grunts bubbling out of me. Every part of my face, neck, and scalp screamed for attention.

  An icy white heat flowed into my neck as Vee cradled me to her breast. The soothing light continued up my face and head, until the pain receded to a manageable level.

  I finally allowed my eyes to flutter open, terrified that the darkness would still be there. Vee’s concerned face stared down at me, those enormous blue eyes drinking in the whole world.

  “Jer, what happened out there?” My father zoomed up, his scowl visible over Vee’s shoulder.

  Vee leaned away and rose quickly to her feet, though I thought I caught a flush in her cheeks. Wishful thinking?

  “Prep for combat,” I groaned as I forced myself into a sitting position. Regaining my feet took far more effort than I’d expected, but I did it. “The natives are definitely not friendly. I don’t know if they blame us for the…oh, my god, my eyebrows?” I patted my scalp. “My hair! It’s all gone.”

  “Focus, Jer!” my dad snapped.

  “Right.” I ordered my helmet to slither over my face, and waited the three seconds for the HUD to light. Once it had, I peered through the still open doorway I’d left.

  Dozens of drake-things were scuttling closer, and staves snapped up when they spied me. I ducked back into cover just in time to avoid a dozen fire bolts, which heated the wall behind me to an angry orange as the metal distended and I ran.

  “Fall back into the mess,” I ordered, and led the way. I darted from cover, and more fire bolts hit the wall as I rolled past them to safety in the corridor.

  The ship’s odd angle made movement difficult, but once I’d cleared the drake’s line of fire I was able to take my time.

  Vee came next, and then Kurz. My father whirred past another few bolts, then Briff made his run.

  He took a shot to the wing, which prompted a startled yelp, but the hatchling leapt to safety with a tremendous push from his tail.

  “Oww.” He rubbed at his wing, though there was no visible damage to the scales. “Now what, Jer?”

  “They’re going to have to come into the Remora’s cargo hold if they want us,” I pointed out. “We’re going to do what my dad taught me.”

  My dad barked a harsh laugh. “You’re going to set up a kill zone. Love it.” He glided to the side of the corridor and drew his spellpistol, which he cradled with both hands.

  I took up a position on the opposite side of the corridor, and the rest of the team did the same. Only Briff was visible, standing in the middle of the corridor with his spellcannon.

  The first drake-thing scuttled into the hold, and thankfully its thorax made getting inside difficult. The creature took long moments to clear the hole in the hull, and when it did a pair of awful wings buzzed over its shoulders.

  “Fire!” I roared, then poured void into both fists. The magic converged into my very first void bolt, and the dark magic lanced into one of the creature’s legs, which dissolved wherever the hungry magic touched it.

  The creature collapsed, just in time for a volley of spells and bullets to converge on it. Rava’s pistol shot took it in the largest eye, and the head rocked back as the creature issued a final pained screech, then collapsed to the deck.

  The body was wedged firmly in the hole.

  “That might have bought us a moment.” I ducked back into cover, and kept both eyes on the doorway. “They’re going to have to figure out a way inside. The best we can do is make them pay for every step. Unless I want to do something crazy.”

  “Crazier then this?” Briff asked as he stabbed a clawed finger at the drake-thing’s corpse. “What do you have in mind, Jer?”

  “The Wyrm wants the armor,” I pointed out, and tapped my chest. “If I send her a missive and offer to give her the armor, then I’ll bet dust to scales that she’ll come back and take out these drakes. All we have to do is survive long enough for her to take care of the bugs.”

  “What if she loses?” Rava asked. “She took off in an awful hurry before.”

  “Good point,” I allowed, then rested my head against the bulkhead. My kingdom for a nap. “Still, every one of those things she roasts is one we don’t have to fight. It will buy us time at the very least. I’m going to give it a try.”

  I ordered my helmet to cover my face, then willed fire magic to flow into the HUD. The Heka Aten sensed my need, and a little red page icon appeared and began to flash as the missive connected.

  Interlude II

  Visala lurked in Wyrm form outside the blue membrane leading back into the Flame of Knowledge’s cargo hold. She clung to the Great Ship’s truly ancient hull, her claws firmly set into the feathersteel.

  The prudent thing to do was flee. Not from the swarm of arachnidrakes, a creature she’d not seen in countless millennia. She could incinerate the drakes easily enough with any number of spells. They were young, and easily killed.

  No, she’d felt something far, far more powerful. For an instant, just an instant, she’d sensed immense void magic. There had been no Fissure, either. She’d
have detected that. The deity who’d arrived must be a true god, one who’d mastered translocation.

  That terrified her.

  Which deity knew about this system? She’d thought this place safe, far from the important happenings. Learning about the survival of the Great Ships had been a shock, and she supposed that it had only been a matter of time before gods began circling like carrion-hawks.

  “Excuse me,” came a pleasant voice from a meter behind her. “Do you have a moment to answer some questions?”

  Visala tensed, and slowly craned her scaled neck around to peer at the speaker’s tiny form, no larger than a mortal. She was an Ifrit, her skin smoldering with the magical fire that was the hallmark of her kind. And, like all her kind, she was beautiful, but a common beauty, identical to every other Ifrit. If rumors were true they’d been created using one of the old pattern inducers. What was one doing here?

  She suppressed her natural instinct to attack, or even to cajole. What if this was the god who had arrived?

  “I may,” Visala allowed. She dipped her head respectfully, though it was larger than the Ifrit. “First I would ask your name, and your purpose here.”

  “My name is Frit,” the fire-girl explained. She offered a respectful nod, her hair swimming in the void like tiny flame-eels. “I am the mistress of the Krox, and a war goddess. I’ve come here because I saw a vision of a Great Ship of flame. One with hidden secrets within. This ship, I think.”

  Visala’s mouth dried, and her forked tongue rolled about as she sought to make more saliva. She was conversing with a god; of that there could be no doubt. Gods came in all shapes and sizes, and this one had masked her ability. That meant she could be weak, but if so would she really have risked being so brazen?

  Even were that not the case there was the matter of the void god. That meant at least two had arrived. She did not like how crowded the field was becoming. She was a demigod in her own right, but she was no war god and would prefer to avoid combat unless it came to it.

  “Very well,” Visala allowed. “I will answer your questions, Frit of the Krox.”

  “Have you seen any other gods here?” The Ifrit wrung magma hands. “Particularly void or life gods? I’d prefer to avoid the latter, and speak to the former.”

  “I did sense a great amount of void.” Visala peered through the membrane. The arachnidrakes had begun to swarm around the Remora, though they hadn’t found a way inside the cruiser yet. She turned back to this Frit. “I did not see anything. Whoever, or whatever it was, cloaked itself quickly.”

  A smile bloomed on the Ifrit’s beautiful face. “Thank you. In return I’ll offer you a bit of advice. Stay far away from—”

  A buzzing gathered before Visala as a missive spell spun into existence. She allowed the connection, and was mildly surprised to realize the spell had been cast by Jerek.

  “Uh, hey there, headmistress.” Jerek smiled weakly at her. “We’re in a bit of trouble. You want the armor? I’m willing to deal, but it has to be quick.”

  “Tell him,” Frit ordered, her voice suddenly weighing more than a million suns, “that you were about to leave, but that an ally will assist him.”

  “Ahh, of course.” Visala nodded at Frit, then turned to the missive. “You will have help against the arachnidrakes, Jerek, and we’ll speak of the price later. For now, I must return to the Word.”

  She killed the missive, but the Ifrit had already glided through the membrane. At first Visala assumed that she’d been talking about herself when she said an ally would help, but her slitted eyes widened when a void bolt streaked from the shadows behind the Remora and disintegrated a drake.

  For an instant, just an instant, Visala had glimpsed a weapon she recognized. Shakti, an artifact used by the most treacherous of Xal’s demonic get. Her grandfather had trusted Xal, but Visala had never been able to stomach demons. Any demon.

  What were they doing here?

  It didn’t really matter. There wasn’t anything she could to do stop either of these gods. The best thing she could do was retreat, and attempt to fortify her position aboard the Word.

  The boy was on his own.

  6

  I had no idea what Visala meant about an ally coming, but I wasn’t really in a position to question her. Hopefully she wasn’t lying. At the very least I had a name for the ship’s natives.

  Another arachnidrake forced its way into the cargo hold, and shoved aside the corpse of its brethren. A volley of spells and bullets welcomed the creature, but this one was better prepared.

  The air around the arachnidrake thickened like molasses, and the bullets stopped before touching the creature’s scarlet scales, glittering wetly like blood. The spells detonated against an invisible ward that sprang into view when tested.

  My hand shot up and I began sketching sigils. Void, void, void. I didn’t cast a void bolt this time. Instead, I plucked one of the fragmentation grenades the minister had so graciously given from my belt, and popped the pin with my free hand.

  I finished the spell, and willed it to target the grenade. The small black sphere disappeared from my hand, and appeared directly underneath the drake’s thorax. The resulting explosion coated the inside of its ward with a slick oily residue, which churned my stomach. Eww.

  Without the mage to sustain it the ward quickly dissipated, and there was a squishy plop as the remains coated the cargo hold’s floor and wall.

  Vrroof. Vrrrooof.

  I cocked my head as I realized the distant sound was coming from outside the Remora, from inside the Flame of Knowledge. Whatever it was…the magical signature touched a memory I couldn’t quite recall. Those were spells being cast. Void spells, like the one I’d just used.

  “Do any of you feel that?” I called softly through my suit’s speakers. “There’s someone out there. Looks like Visala may have been as good as her word.”

  Vrrrrooof. Vroof. Vroof.

  “I don’t like it.” Vee frowned up at the ceiling. “It’s powerful, whatever it is. And it won’t much like me or Kurz. We’re of life. It’s…of the void.”

  “So am I, and so is the Word of Xal,” I pointed out, and nodded down at the creature I’d killed with the grenade. “Void is a tool, just like life. It’s just magic. Not morality.”

  “I’m sorry, I just can’t see it that way.” Vee shook her head emphatically, and fixed me with a searching look. “Is that really how you view things? Magic is just magic? What about gods? Do you know what void gods have been guilty of? How do you think our people came to this system? Who do you think was hunting us?”

  “Sister,” Kurz interrupted, his tone soft, but firm. “Now is hardly the time for a theological debate. The captain is right. Magic is a tool. A tool that, in this instance, appears to be used for our benefit.” Kurz nodded at the cargo hold door, which he’d positioned himself near.

  I moved closer, and risked a look outside. There was no sign of any arachnidrakes, beyond the charred bodies Visala had left. That terrified me, because I didn’t think they’d had time to drag away bodies.

  The drakes were being ruthlessly culled, one after another, literally removed from existence, their atoms given to the Umbral Depths and whatever dwelt there.

  I did spy a few creatures lurking in the corridors leading deeper into the ship, their multifaceted eyes peering at the Remora, or at whatever void creature had saved us. It sounded as if the spells were coming from directly above us.

  “Hello?” I called out through the now wider hole in the Remora’s hull. “Hey, there! Thanks for the, ah, assist. Name’s Jerek. I was told to expect an ally, but we don’t have a whole lot of details.”

  There were no further spells, but also no answer.

  “Jerek?” Vee whispered, which drew my attention to the crew behind me…and the new arrival.

  An athletic woman in midnight spellarmor stood between Rava and Briff as if she had every right to be there. She cradled a sniper rifle with a long, thin barrel. Runes ran the length of the
weapon, and they glittered with untold power, their complexity far beyond my understanding of the arcane.

  “Hey there,” the woman’s voice echoed cheerfully through the speakers on her suit. “I’m going to take my helmet off, and when I do you might be tempted to say some rude things. Please don’t.”

  She extended a hand and a vertical slit shimmered into existence as she opened a void pocket that appeared to be anchored to her armor. She deposited her rifle into the extra-dimensional space, then reached up with both hands and removed her helmet.

  Long, dark hair spilled down the kind of perfect face that would haunt a man long after he’d kissed her. I mean, uh, she was brunette with freckles and I totally wasn’t into her.

  Also, she was a demon.

  Ram’s horns curled from her temples, though they were small and appeared newly formed. Her skin was a shade of violet touched with black, though it did nothing to soften her beauty.

  A pair of bat-like wings extended over her shoulders, and I noted a tail curled around the feet of her armor. Not exactly the girl next door, though I wish I’d had girls like that next door growing up.

  “Maker protect me,” Vee whispered, which wouldn’t have been a problem, except that her skin began to glow, and a wave of golden magic pulsed outwards.

  The instant the light touched the demon-lady her skin began to smolder, and she gritted teeth that would have been at home on any human or Inuran.

  “See? This is exactly what I was talking about,” the demon woman managed, though the cost in pain was clear. She glared at Vee. “Stop that, or I will stop it for you.”

  “Vee,” I snapped, then willed my helmet to slither off my face. By the time it had, whatever miracle Vee had just performed had ceased, though streams of smoke rose from the demon’s skin. “My apologizes. You helped us, and we appreciate that. I haven’t caught your name.”