by Chris Fox
The readout on the side read 12%. That wan’t zero, at least, though I had no idea how much would survive the conversion if I fed this thing to the Word. Enough. It had to be.
Vee clambered to her feet first, though Rava wasn’t far behind. Kurz rose with a groan and a stretch, while Miri slumbered blissfully on. It was Briff I focused on though.
The hatchling’s wing had grown back entirely, and his scales had lightened in hue to a polished white. His eyes fluttered open. “Jer?”
“How ya feelin’, bud?” I offered him a hand, though of course I was far too light to help him to his feet.
“Good. Great even.” He stood up and stretched. “Like I had the best night sleep.”
I stifled the immediate envy. It had been exactly seventy-eight years since I’d last slept.
“Can you grab that core? We still need to get out of here.”
“Yeah.” Briff trotted over and picked the core up with almost no effort this time. “It’s a lot lighter for some reason.”
“Most of the power is gone. Guess it had mass, like plasma.” I moved to join Vee, who stared down at the golden glow from both hands in wonder. “We all got hit with a blast of life magic. You saved our asses, and gave us a Catalyzation.”
A blazing hunk of green-gold life throbbed in my chest, strong and clear, and…very much opposite of void. My study of the magic ended when an insistent voice overpowered everything.
Name. My pistol’s voice rang in my head, I knew instinctively that it came from the weapon. Need. Name!
“Uh.” She’d kind of put me on the spot. “Ariela…two?”
No! New name. Pretty name. Deadly name.
“That’s a tall order,” I muttered, aware that only I could hear the pistol. At least they could see Inura…I hoped. I did not need that many disembodied voices in my head. Had my armor Catalyzed as well? If so, would it start talking too? “Vee, what was your mother’s name?”
“Dez,” Vee replied, though I’m not certain she was even aware I was there. Her hands had begun to glow brightly, and I noted that her bracelet had grown. Tiny white sigils now ringed the edge, and I wished I had the time to study them.
“All right, pistol,” I decided aloud. “How about Dez? It’s beautiful, like Vee, and new, and…uh…deadly.” I had no idea what made a name deadly, but technically Dez had just been born so maybe she didn’t either.
“Wait.” Rava nudged my shoulder with her fist. “Jer, if we all got life magic how come I can’t feel it? That actually seems useful. I want to test it out.”
I did a double take when I glanced at Rava. “Oh, no.”
“What?” Rava’s now perfect eyes widened.
Inura’s specter began to chuckle.
“Life can express itself in a few ways.” I struggled for a way to break it gently. “I received life magic…you, ah, became more attractive?”
“Are you kidding me?” Rava thundered, death lurking in those eyes. “I lost the chance at healing magic so I can…be pretty?”
“Beauty,” Inura interjected, “is resonant with life. Symmetry. Balance. In mind and in form.”
“Doesn’t seem very balanced to me.” Rava stalked off toward the iris, and delivered a strong kick. “And it doesn’t seem like we’re getting this open.”
“I must return to the Word. Battle commences. Return swiftly, young Jerek.” Inura offered a low bow that included his wings and tail.
“Keep them alive if you can,” I pleaded, but he was already gone. I allowed myself a single calming breath, and then I kept on as if this was all part of the plan. “Vee, what’s the news on the iris?”
She shook her head. “It isn’t opening. We need another way out.”
“A lift maybe?” Miri stifled a yawn. I didn’t see when she’d woken, but she was on her feet now. “Or we try to blast through that thing?”
“I counted three more on the way in.” I shook my head. “We’re not going to brute force it. If I had void we could blink past them. Vee, can you find me a maintenance lift near here? And, if you can, can we use the remaining life in the core to power it?”
“I can rig something up pretty quickly.” She brightened and offered the first smile I’d seen in a while. “My magic…it’s stronger now, Jerek. My connection to the Maker is deeper.”
“I finally named the pistol you built.” I dodged the Inura conundrum by changing the subject. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to share her joy, but more and more it appeared the Maker wasn’t who she thought he was. “Her name is Dez. She chose it.”
Vee’s eyes began to water. It must have been the, ah, O2 scrubbers. She cleared her throat. “I’ll find us a lift. We should get moving.” She started following the wall to the right, and we trailed after her, as far from the edge of the walkway as possible.
Why hadn’t they installed a railing? Maybe maintenance people were cheaper than railings. Vee trotted along for a good six hundred meters or so before making a sharp right up one of the corridors we’d passed.
It led to a pair of small lifts, each able to hold four people or one Briff. Neither appeared to have power, which we’d expected, of course.
Vee raised a hand and her bracelet flared. A river of white sigils swam from her palm to the core, then emerged as a thick double helix, rich with life magic. It flowed toward the panel outside the lift, and the river of sigils disappeared Inside.
The lift flared to life.
“Girls who save my ass are so hot.” Exhaustion had disabled whatever filter remained, and I winced, but to my surprise both Miri and Vee laughed at my joke. I’d been funny.
Damn, I wish I’d recorded that too.
I closed my eyes and waited for the doors to open. Someday I would get to lay down.
Interlude V
Visala hated her role in this farce, hated the powerlessness of it. She hated that no other Wyrms existed to share the burden, only half-trained children still grieving the loss of their world.
In a way, the Maker’s Wrath was a blessing in that it afforded common cause. Children scurried in their assigned squads, securing all routes in and out of the hangar with expanding salt rings, each ten meters from the last.
It would slow advancing spirits, and give the defenders time to use their considerable magical power. Half-trained mages, perhaps, but mages still.
Time and space swirled around her suddenly as a teleport seized her. Visala appeared on the Word’s bridge, a couple meters from the new captain, who she still thought of as the boy’s mother, or the sub, if thinking about her role at the academy during the time Visala had spent looking for her grandfather.
She’d returned after the Battle of the Fist, when there was no longer a point. Inura had been disintegrated by Xal’Aran, the demonic spawn of Xal. She’d have her revenge, some day, but for now her Outriders mattered more. These children needed her. Maker knew this woman wasn’t going to watch out for them.
“I’m sorry for plucking you from whatever you were doing.” Captain Irala nodded at the scry-screen, which displayed the Maker’s Wrath.
Their enemy’s main cannon filled with a spectral glow, the same glow that had heralded the destruction of the trade moon.
“Are your students in place?” Irala demanded.
“The matrices are staffed.” Irala clenched annoyingly human fists. “The children are not ready. There will be casualties.”
The captain didn’t reply to that. Visala had encountered that kind of end-justifies-the-means thinking many times. That’s how you got necromancers claiming to avenge a god sworn to stop necromancy.
“It’s happening.” A river of unclean souls swam from the enemy vessel, and crashed over their ship in a terrifying tide.
The Word rumbled as the wards struggled to repulse the beam, but on and on it went, more and more souls poured into the crumbling wards, distending them until they snapped.
Wights and angers and spites and worse swam through the gaps, infesting parts of the ship. Finally the beam cease
d, and the enemy cannon gave a satisfied rumble before going dark.
“Guardian, status report on the mages in the backup matrices?” The captain kept her composure, though Visala noted the tremor in the woman’s hands. She was strong; even Visala had to give her that.
The holographic hatchling appeared before the captain. “Seven mages were consumed entirely. Nine more had their magical ability burned out. They are mages no longer.”
The captain refused to look at Visala when she spoke. “Do you have another group of volunteers ready to go?”
“We do,” Visala confirmed. “They’ll keep dying for you until the spirits overwhelm the crew.”
“Dammit, Wyrm, what would you have me do?” The captain rounded on her, tears leaking from both eyes, unheeded. “I have to accept that I can only save some of them, not all of them. Am I callous? You bet I am. I need to keep as many alive as I can, for as long as I can. I need to keep my son alive, and if they kill us he’s next. So yeah, those poor kids will keep dying, so that their friends and shipmates don’t have to.”
Visala suffered a rare moment of regret. Perhaps she’d spoken hastily. Did she really have a better option to offer? What might she have done had she the key? She didn’t know, but it meant judging this woman’s actions might be unfair.
“Excuse me,” came a polite, cultured voice from behind the pair of them. A voice she’d never thought to hear again. “My name is Inura. You might be expecting me. I believe your son Jerek mentioned I was coming.”
“No, I definitely would have remembered that.” The captain might have been gaping at the newly appeared god, but Visala didn’t know.
She couldn’t look away from her grandfather. He lived. Somehow he lived. And he’d found her. If it indeed was him. She must be wary.
“Do you have some way to prove your identity?” Visala demanded. She slid her feet apart and prepared for combat, should it come to that.
“Other than translocating onto your bridge?” Inura raised an eyebrow in a manner she’d never forget. “By the Wyrmmother…is that you, little Visala?” His face lit up in a smile. “I suppose I can’t call you little any longer. You’re larger than I am.”
“Larger? What do you mean?” She couldn’t process what she was hearing. Couldn’t fathom the idea of him being alive.
“I am…less than I was. I sacrificed my body in the Battle of the Fist to convince my enemies I am dead.”
“And now you’ve lost that advantage by coming out of hiding.” Visala horrified herself with the scorn in that tone. “At least you are here. Do you have the strength to reinforce the wards, or to reinforce the core?”
“You made this ship, right?” The captain pressed in on Inura. “If you can’t empower the wards, do you know of any tactics or defenses we can employ? What does my son mean when he says you are a god?”
Inura eyed the door as if seeking escape. Fury roared through Visala as she took in his cowardly demeanor. What had happened to her once mighty grandfather? This was a shadow…less than a shadow.
“I can empower the wards for a time, long enough to block a shot.” He looked up suddenly. “I might be able to do it twice, but to be candid, if your son fails to return with the core I cannot turn the tide in a battle with that perverted monstrosity. We need a way to hit back, and I cannot do that. I can only prolong the inevitable.”
Visala contained her anger. Whatever this thing was, whatever it claimed, it wasn’t her grandfather. Still, she’d welcome whatever help this simpering demigod could provide.
Almost she wished he had died at the Fist, his legacy and memory untarnished.
21
The lift doors opened, and we entered a mezzanine nearly identical to every other I’d seen thus far, except that this one was without power. Nothing moved. No sound broke the silence, save the O2 scrubbers, which wouldn’t keep the atmosphere breathable for very long without the cores to power the planet.
“Seket, this is Jerek.” I trotted out ahead of the others, and used my vision to scout. A few shamblers approached, but we’d emerged into an area largely devoid of unliving. “We’re on the surface and ready for pickup. Are you in a position to come get us?”
“Affirmative,” Seket’s golden voice rang back. “I am on my way. All drones have been dealt with, and I haven’t seen any threats since the planet went dark. You didn’t mention that would happen if you stole the core.”
“We didn’t know.” I directed everyone over to a docking tube, the one I suspected would be most convenient for Seket. “There’s a lot to catch you up on, but your Maker was involved. He saved our lives when the casing on the core blew.”
“Then you are blessed. I will be there swiftly, Captain. Seket out.”
The comm went silent and left the squad standing around waiting. Normally that’s not an issue. When you are at the ragged edge of exhaustion, though, it’s a nightmare. All I wanted to do was rest my head against the wall and sleep, but I knew if I did it I’d be down for at least six hours.
So I paced. Back and forth, back and forth.
Briff and Rava chatted in low tones. Anger rolled off her, and I didn’t blame her for seething. I hadn’t realized you could skip life magic in exchange for appearance.
I mean, not that I wouldn’t want to be more attractive. It would be awesome to suddenly be hotter. But if you have to pick between Seket’s jawline and magically healing your friends in dangerous situations, it’s not a hard choice.
“Jerek!” A friendly, cultured, and all too familiar voice echoed across the mezzanine. “Hello! Do you have a moment to chat before you leave?”
I turned to see our necromancer friend on his bone harness, with dragon in tow. He scuttled backwards a few paces when Briff took a threatening step in his direction.
The soulshackled Wyrm moved to intercept Briff, and its inferno eyes narrowed.
“Now, now.” The necromancer waved, and the Wyrm retreated. “I just wanted to congratulate you on your victory. You somehow survived, and managed to disable this moon. Well done. It’s really quite impressive for a—and I do not mean this insultingly—child.”
“Is there a reason I shouldn’t tattle to Inura?” I rested my hand on my pistol, but I’m fairly certain he knew I was just posturing.
“Translocation can only be performed once every few hours or so. Your god cannot help you.” He offered a friendly smile completely at odds with his horrific body. “After you survive this ordeal and return to your ship you will want answers. I see the unquenchable thirst for knowledge in you. Who are these unliving? Why did they arise now? If you want answers…come to Sanctuary. Seek the unseen fleets, and you’ll find them. Come, and I will teach you. Prepare you.”
I almost asked him what he got out of all this, but realized he’d just spew some cryptic politician non-answer. I couldn’t handle it right now.
“Hey, that sounds great. I’ll see you on Sanctuary. I’ll bring the beer. Totally. Just hang out ‘til I get there.” And then I turned from him. Petty, maybe. Even a little stupid. But I figured if this guy wanted to attack us he would have already done so.
“I get the sense that you question my motives.” The necromancer scuttled a bit closer. “A sign of my intentions, then. My true name is Utred. I haven’t ever trusted that to a living soul. You have an ally in me, child. And now…I will have the last word. If I could offer one final piece of advice. Be far from the Word of Xal when Necrotis comes for it. Inura will not stop her. He could not even stop me.”
I heard a hum behind me, and turned to see a slash in reality that led into the spirit realm. Utred scuttled through, and it closed behind the strange necromancer.
“Do you take him at his word?” Kurz wondered. Nothing in his tone indicated how he felt one way or the other.
“Of course not,” Vee answered for me. “He’s smarter than that.”
“I don’t trust him, but I do wonder why someone powerful enough to recognize and stand up to Inura wants to be buddies. It seems
a little strange he’s taken an interest to me, or that he’s trying to drive up tourism to whatever death trap he lives in.”
“I don’t trust him,” Vee repeated.
“You don’t trust the evil necromancer?” Rava rolled her eyes. “It’s odd that you don’t trust this guy, but are cool with soulcatchers. I don’t understand the distinction.”
“I’m not going to try to explain.” Vee shook her head. “I doubt you’re really interested in the answer anyway.”
“The distinction,” Kurz interrupted in a friendly tone, “is that soulcatchers only take the souls of the fallen. We do not murder others to take or use their souls, and we do not bind souls into unliving bodies.”
I knew I wasn’t involved in that part of the conversation, but hearing that eased the moral discomfort in my chest. I should probably break up the argument, but exhaustion kept my jaw firmly shut.
The rush of engines vibrated through the wall as the Remora descended into view and docked against the tube. I leaned against the wall next to the panel as I waited for it to connect, and wished that I could collapse once we got inside.
It’s never that easy. We still needed to get the core past the necromancers, and aboard the Word. I didn’t want to risk communicating that we were carrying the core, so we could make the approach stealthily.
“Seket, have you been watching the orbital battle? Anything to report?”
“The Wrath fired on the Word about two minutes ago.” Seket’s tone thickened with worry. “It appears their wards stopped some or all of the shot, but it was a near thing. I believe the next shot may be fatal to the crew.”
“I’ll meet you on the bridge, and we’ll see if we can stop that. Jerek out.” The airlock doors opened, and I sprinted inside. I had to stop this. Had to help them before my mother, and the rest of my friends, were murdered as fuel for Necrotis.
22
By the time we made it onto the Remora’s bridge, Seket had already disengaged from the dock and lifted back into the air. The scry-screen showed the compact spaceport below us, and the clusters of wights roaming it in search of victims.