Reign of Stars

by Tim Pratt

  Alaeron nodded. "Good reasons. Reasons I recognize. Do me a favor: learn politics."

  "Why would I want to do that?" he said.

  "There's the problem in a single sentence," Skiver said. "The ones who should be in charge don't want to bother with it, and who can blame them? They have better things to do."

  "Southern fools," Char grumbled, and sank down through the floor.

  Skiver tickled open the lock to the cell, and they made it to the unattended guard station at the foot of the stairs and opened up the chest there. As promised, their clothes and most of their possessions were there, including all the extracts and mutagens Alaeron had kept in his coat, and Skiver's multitude of knives, plus a decent quantity of coin.

  And nestled at the bottom of the bag was another black cube, a bit smaller than the last but otherwise identical, no bigger than a closed fist, just waiting to be activated. If it worked the same way the other black box had...well, it wasn't enough to make Alaeron forgive Zernebeth, but it was at least a peace offering. He could keep it for himself, or sell it to a king for more gold than he could spend in a lifetime.

  There wasn't much doubt, of course, that he'd keep it for himself. There were other ways to get gold, but he'd probably seen his last rare Numerian relic.

  "Ready?" Skiver whispered, crouched down, one hand on the door to the stairs, ready to rush for freedom.

  "Let me drink this, first," Alaeron said, holding up a small vial with a wax stopper marked by the imprint of a fang.

  "What is it?"

  "Feral extract."

  "Is that the one that turns you into a great hulking almost-mindless beast of a thing?"

  "That's the one," Alaeron said. "I think I would be happier if I were a little bit stupider than usual right now."

  "I mostly rely on liquor for that, but I take your point." Skiver slung Alaeron's pack over his shoulders.

  Alaeron nodded, uncapped the extract, and drank it down. The reddish mist began to descend over his vision immediately, and for the next little while, he became a creature of action, unburdened by thought.

  ∗ ∗ ∗

  The escape went well enough. Skiver assured Alaeron he hadn't killed anyone while he was in his feral state, and though Alaeron wasn't sure he believed him—there was a lot of blood on his clothes when he came back to himself, in the back of the crawler—he appreciated his friend's willingness to lie to make him feel better. Friends you could count on—those were important.

  The crawler raced across the plains, Skiver handling the controls deftly. "When did you learn to drive this thing?" Alaeron called.

  "Oh, I made a point of watching Lodger twiddle the knobs and push the levers," Skiver said over his shoulder, "and asked a few questions in the course of complimenting his fine driving, just in case we needed to steal the crawler and make our own way at some point. I'm good with my hands, and it's not so hard—running this thing is easier than swapping a set of true dice for a pair of loaded ones under the watchful eyes of a bunch of dock workers, or picking a suspicious rich man's pockets." He glanced behind them. "I can't wait to leave this wretched country. Too hot in the day, too cold at night, too dry all the time, and, oh, yes—full of monsters and treacherous bastards. I'm a criminal, Alaeron, on the wrong side of the law, but it turns out I like there to be a law. I've been called a rogue, but to be a rogue you need to have a civilization, something to push against, a framework to act outside of, eh? Up here, you can't be a rogue, or a card sharp, or a gentleman thief. You're just an animal, like everybody else."

  Skiver sometimes got philosophical when they escaped from near-certain death, and Alaeron nodded along and made encouraging noises. His mind was racing, but he wasn't thinking of anything in particular. Just going over and over the same thoughts, wearing them down, worrying them smooth, wondering how he'd been such a fool, if he'd ever be exactly the same sort of fool again, and if not, what kind of fool he'd be next time instead.

  He was a freezing fool, for one thing. The crawler moved at a good clip, and the night breeze was as chilly as Zernebeth's embrace. Alaeron opened up his bag and fished around until he found a jacket, the nice one he'd filled with gas canisters and used to threaten Zernebeth when he first arrived in Starfall, such a short time ago, though it felt like ten thousand years. The gas was gone now, but it was still a nice warm jacket, so he pulled it on, and pushed his hands deep into his pockets.

  Something cool and round touched his left hand. As Skiver rambled on about the things he'd eat once they got back to Almas—Onionskin's eel pie was high on the list—Alaeron stared down at the object in his hand.

  It was the earring Char had given him. The one Zernebeth had removed and put on the bedside table earlier that afternoon, promising that if she had anything to tell him ever again, she'd just whisper it in his ear. She must have put it in his jacket pocket, for him to find.

  He held the jewel up to his ear, and listened, but there was no sound. Not now. But maybe someday.

  Alaeron considered flinging the jewel into the grassland, leaving it to twinkle, for some passing crow to pick up and choke on. He should do that, he knew.

  Instead, he slipped it into his pocket, and said, "Skiver, I don't know how you can think about food at all after that feast of ersatz unicorn and songbird, and all that rotten fruit flung at us in the cell. I'm happy to skip a few meals. What I'm most excited about is getting home and sleeping in my own bed."

  "Funny, that," Skiver said. "I'm most excited about getting home and sleeping in someone else's bed."

  Alaeron laughed, and Skiver did too, and the sound of their fellowship briefly warmed the cold and empty air of the land of fallen stars.

  About the Author

  Tim Pratt is the author of the Pathfinder Tales novels City of the Fallen Sky (also featuring Alaeron and Skiver) and Liar's Blade, as well as several Pathfinder short stories available for free at paizo.com/pathfindertales. His creator-owned stories have appeared in The Best American Short Stories, The Year's Best Fantasy and Horror, and other nice places, and he is the author of three story collections, most recently Antiquities and Tangibles, as well as a poetry collection. He has also written several novels, including contemporary fantasies The Strange Adventures of Rangergirl, Briarpatch, and Heirs of Grace; the Forgotten Realms novel Venom in Her Veins; the gonzo historical steampunk novel The Constantine Affliction (under the name T. Aaron Payton); and, as T. A. Pratt, eight books in the urban fantasy series about ass-kicking sorcerer Marla Mason: Blood Engines, Poison Sleep, Dead Reign, Spell Games, Broken Mirrors, Grim Tides, Bride of Death, and the prequel Bone Shop. He edited the anthology Sympathy for the Devil, and coedited the forthcoming Rags & Bones anthology with Melissa Marr.

  He has won a Hugo Award for best short story, a Rhysling Award for best speculative poetry, and an Emperor Norton award for best San Francisco Bay Area-related novel. His books and stories have been nominated for Nebula, Mythopoeic, World Fantasy, and Stoker Awards, among others, and have been translated into numerous languages.

  He lives in Berkeley, California with his wife Heather Shaw and son River, and works as a senior editor and occasional book reviewer at Locus, the Magazine of the Science Fiction and Fantasy Field. He blogs intermittently at www.timpratt.org.

  Glossary

  All Pathfinder Tales novels are set in the rich and vibrant world of the Pathfinder campaign setting. Below are explanations of several key terms used in this book. For more information on the world of Golarion and the strange monsters, people, and deities that make it their home, see The Inner Sea World Guide, or dive into the game and begin playing your own adventures with the Pathfinder Roleplaying Game Core Rulebook or the Pathfinder Roleplaying Game Beginner Box, all available at paizo.com. Readers particularly interested in Alaeron and Skiver's previous run-ins with the Technic League should check out Pathfinder Tales: City of the Fallen Sky, and anyone eager to play their own adventures in Numeria should consult the Iron Gods Adventure Path, or Pathfinder Campaign S
etting: Numeria, Land of Falling Stars.

  Absalom: Largest city in the Inner Sea region.

  Abysium: Type of skymetal that sickens those who spend too much time around it.

  Adamantine: The most common skymetal. Extremely hard and durable.

  Alchemists: Spellcasters whose magic takes the form of potions, explosives, and strange mutagens that modify the caster's own physiology.

  Alkenstar: A nation famous for the production of guns and gunpowder.

  Almas: Capital city of Andoran.

  Andoran: Zealously democratic nation just north of the Inner Sea.

  Andoren: Of or pertaining to Andoran; someone from Andoran.

  Annihilators: Mysterious Numerian automatons shaped somewhat like giant scorpions, and armed with terrible weapons.

  Arcane: Related to non-faith-based magic.

  Arcanist: Someone who casts spells through secular means using his or her own power and without appealing to a divine being for magical effects.

  Aroden: The god of humanity, who died mysteriously a hundred years ago.

  Automatons: Mysterious Numerian constructs far more complex than standard clockwork creations and yet not related to golems and other magical constructs. The result of alien technology.

  Banner of the Stag: Militant group or Erastil-worshipers devoted to protecting towns and settlements from injustice.

  Bard: An artist or performer able to harness his or her innate magic through art. Often cross-trained in combat and other adventuring skills.

  Battle of Falheart: Supposedly haunted site of a historical battle in Numeria.

  Black Sovereign: The ruler of Numeria—once a mighty barbarian warrior, but now hopelessly addicted to alien drugs supplied by the Technic League.

  Brevoy: A frigid northern nation famous for its swordplay.

  Cheliax: A powerful devil-worshiping nation located northwest of the Inner Sea.

  Chelish: Of or relating to the nation of Cheliax.

  Chesed: Port city in Numeria.

  Djezet: Rust-red metal that's always in a liquid state, said to enhance magical effects.

  Dwarves: Short, stocky humanoids who excel at physical labor, mining, and craftsmanship.

  Erastil: Stag-headed god of farming, hunting, trade, and family, also known as Old Deadeye.

  Felldales: Dangerous badlands in Numeria scarred by remnants of the Rain of Stars.

  Gearsmen: Powerful metal automatons retrieved from Silver Mount, which obey the commands of the Technic League—at least, most of the time.

  Golarion: The planet on which the Pathfinder campaign setting focuses.

  Golden Aerie: Grand headquarters of Andoran's famous Eagle Knights.

  Gorum Pots: Field of bubbling hot springs and dangerous mud pits in Numeria.

  Hajoth Hakados: Nearly independent trading city on Numeria's southern border.

  Half-Orcs: Born from unions between humans and orcs, members of this race have green or gray skin, brutish appearances, and short tempers, and are mistrusted by many societies.

  Halflings: Race of humanoids known for their tiny stature, deft hands, and mischievous personalities.

  Hallit: The language of Kellids.

  Horacalcum: The rarest of known skymetals, with the ability to bend time.

  Iadenveigh: Numerian town of hunters and trappers, fiercely devoted to the god Erastil and opposed to the Technic League.

  Inner Sea: Vast inland sea to the south of Numeria, whose surrounding lands are the primary focus of the Pathfinder campaign setting.

  Inubrix: Type of skymetal only partially in phase with reality.

  Irrisen: A realm of permanent winter claimed by the Witch-Queen Baba Yaga and ruled by her daughters.

  Katapesh: Mighty trade nation south of the Inner Sea. Also the name of its capital city.

  Keleshite: Of or related to the Empire of Kelesh, a nation far to the east of the Inner Sea region.

  Kellids: Tribal and violent human ethnicity from the northern reaches of the Inner Sea region, often viewed as uncivilized barbarians by other ethnicities.

  Lantern King: One of the godlike fey beings called the Eldest; a patron of tricksters.

  Linnorms: Immense, snakelike dragons with two forelimbs and rudimentary wings.

  Mana Wastes: Region where an ancient magical war renders spells unreliable.

  Myrmidons: Flying humanoid automatons armed with terribly weaponry.

  Noqual: Type of skymetal uniquely resistant to magic.

  Numeria: Land of barbarians and strange alien technology harvested from an ancient crashed starship near the nation's capital.

  Numerian: Of or related to Numeria; someone from Numeria.

  Osirian: Of or relating to the region of Osirion—a desert nation on the southeastern shores of the Inner Sea—or a resident of Osirion.

  Plane of Shadow: A dimension of muted colors and strange creatures that acts as a twisted, shadowy reflection of the "real" world.

  Qadira: Desert nation on the eastern side of the Inner Sea.

  Rain of Stars: Ancient event in which some sort of huge spacefaring craft broke up in Golarion's atmosphere and fell to earth, forming both Silver Mount and myriad smaller wrecks around Numeria.

  River Kingdoms: A region of small, feuding fiefdoms and bandit strongholds, where borders change frequently.

  River Road: Road paralleling the Sellen River and leading from the Inner Sea up to the Lake of Mists and Veils near Mendev and Numeria. Popular route for crusaders traveling north to fight demons in the Worldwound.

  Sargava: Former Chelish colony which successfully won its independence.

  Sellen River: Major river that runs north from the Inner Sea all the way up to the Lake of Mists and Veils, creating a thoroughfare across most of a continent.

  Shackles: Pirate isles southwest of the Inner Sea.

  Shoanti: Ethnic group in Varisia composed of seminomadic tribes that refuse to congregate in cities; often marginalized by the region's "civilized" folk.

  Siccatite: Type of skymetal that's always either very hot or very cold, for reasons not yet understood.

  Silver Mount: A great vessel from another world that crashed down from the sky long ago in Numeria, forming a huge metal mountain that leaks strange ichors. Explorers sometimes breach its inner chambers and retrieve strange technological artifacts, most of which are subsequently controlled by the Technic League.

  Silverdisk: Strange, coin-sized artifacts from the Rain of Stars, common enough in Numeria to be used as currency.

  Skymetal: Metal that fell to Golarion from outer space, either as parts of mysterious craft or as meteorites, that has exceptional (and sometimes magical) qualities.

  Sorcerer: Someone who casts spells through natural ability rather than faith or study.

  Starfall: The capital of Numeria, located near the base of Silver Mount.

  Taldan: Of or pertaining to Taldor; a citizen of Taldor.

  Taldane: The common trade language of the Inner Sea region.

  Taldor: A formerly glorious nation that has lost many of its holdings in recent years to neglect and decadence. Ruled by immature aristocrats and overly complicated bureaucracy.

  Technic League: Corrupt society of researchers who comb through the wreckage of Silver Mount looking for strange technology that they can exploit for personal gain.

  Tian: Someone or something from Tian Xia, the Dragon Empires of the distant east.

  Ulfen: A race of warlike humans from the cold nations of the north, particularly the Lands of the Linnorm Kings.

  Varisia: Frontier region at the northwestern edge of the Inner Sea region.

  White Witches: The human rulers of Irrisen, who derive their power from Baba Yaga.

  Wizard: Someone who casts spells through careful study and rigorous scientific methods rather than faith or innate talent, recording the necessary incantations in a spellbook.

  Worldwound: Constantly expanding region overrun by demons a century ago. Held at bay by the efforts of cru
saders.

  Acknowledgments

  Thanks to my wife Heather for her never-ending support, and to my son River for giving me time to write when we both know I'd rather be watching cartoons and playing video games with him. Thanks also to my editor James Sutter for letting me play in Numeria, and to my agent Ginger Clark for taking care of the business end of things.