Thief (The Key to Magic Book 7)

by H. Jonas Rhynedahll

  "Perhaps we should focus on the southern continent at first?" Section Leader Bastraiep of the Financial Section asked.

  "With the Tertiary Launch Site on the northern continent, that would create a supply line across half the world" Section Leader Dhavosh countered. "Without long range ports to establish a freight network, moving supplies from the Site to bases in the south would slow and inefficient. From a security standpoint, an initial base of operations at the Site itself, as we had originally planned, remains the most practical and defensible option."

  "We must intervene," Chairman Tredglas suggested. "If we preserve the Brotherhood and disarm the Empire, the process of subduing the grounders on the northern continent will be far easier."

  Oyraebos listened as the debate continued, but remained silent. He already knew how the majority would vote; he had dreamed clearly during his previous sleep period. This discussion was simply a necessary step to mold the inevitable consensus. He gave all indication of focusing on each speaker in turn, but was actually studying the drone feed.

  After another hour, he signaled Dhavosh to call for an end to the debate. This was accomplished with no dissenting votes.

  "It seems clear to me," Oyraebos announced, "that we are all in agreement that we will conform to our original landing plan. Further, that we shall support The Brotherhood of Phaelle and make use of its political infrastructure to establish governance. If there are no objections, I shall order Section Leader Dhavosh to take such actions as he deems necessary upon landing to accomplish this goal."

  A unanimous chorus rose up in support.

  Under better circumstances, Oyraebos might have preferred a less oppressive proxy than the Brotherhood of Phaelle clearly was, but the monks seemed the only practical choice.

  The following day, Orbital Control was once again full for the second attempt at launch, but even more so than on the previous occasion. Oyraebos had decided to allow in as many people as could squeeze in without setting off the automatic occupancy warnings, though all of these extra spectators had to stand almost shoulder to shoulder in the rear half of the compartment.

  Though their descent paths were radically different, both the Eagle and the Raven would launch at the same time. As before, everything that could be made ready was ready.

  Not minded to sit through another anxiety inducing countdown, Oyraebos gave up his seat to a random spectator and melded into the crowd, shaking hands and speaking to everyone to fulfill the political exigencies. Then, rather than watch the technicians and the skry projections, he observed the crowd, gauging their mood. After some time, he was pleased to decide that though some disquiet lingered, everyone was in the main positive and upbeat.

  When the missile struck the Eagle and the panic began, he stood stock still as the crowd boiled around him for the three minutes it took to make sure that the Raven completed its descent without incident, then immediately bulled his way out into the corridor, keying his comm to connect to Emeraae as he ran.

  "Here," she said with the exact imperturbability that he had expected.

  "Have another shuttle prepped immediately," he sent. "I want five volunteers of rank five or higher with combat experience. I also need ten volunteers from the Security Section who have experience with crew served weapons. All of the volunteers must be ready to go immediately. I will command the rescue in person."

  THIRTY-ONE

  7026 by the Common Reckoning

  (Thirteenthday, Waning, 3rd Springmoon, 1645 After the Founding of the Empire)

  The shuttle

  Orbital B Launch Bay

  As she tightened the straps on her webbing, Nali realized that her hands were shaking slightly.

  In the adjacent rack, Walis noticed as well, but incorrectly presumed the cause. "The descent will be perfectly safe. Even if the guide beacon stops transmitting, the pilots can make a safe landing just using the onboard spells."

  Nali nodded, offering a slight smile to let him think that she had been reassured by his dry words. Walis was one of the most uninteresting men that she had ever met. While he was reasonably well educated and an expert medic, he approached every endeavor with a plodding and dreadfully linear mindset. Even his courtship of Prim had been by the numbers, in spite of the fact that he was plainly and absolutely smitten with her.

  Nali's bout of nerves was not caused by anxiety, but rather by a growing excitement that she had begun to have difficulty containing.

  She had not seen the wizard since her last day on the surface in the life before.

  She still feared that he was just around the next corner, waiting to order her again about his vile designs.

  But with all her heart, she hoped that his absence meant that Zso was dead, gone to dust like everyone and everything from the life before.

  An imp appeared at the center of the compartment and the voice of the Chief Pilot, Lhaertiis, came out of it. "All passengers, make ready for launch."

  In the sixty racks mounted all away around the cylindrical compartment, the men and women chosen for the First Expedition hurried to make final checks of their restraint webbing. The artificial gravity followed the curve of the wall, meaning that there were just as many rows of racks above Nali as below her.

  "Do you think that there will be trouble when we land?" she asked Walis. "From the grounders, I mean."

  "The people living in the ruins that have accreted atop the Tertiary Launch Site are civilized up to a point, but as primitive as they are, the landing will be a considerable shock. It is possible that they may react with reflexive violence, but our technology is more than sufficiently capable of protecting us from their non-magical efforts. In my opinion, a more likely scenario is that, once they recognize that we are men just as they are, they will reach out to establish a dialogue. One complication that may arise is, given what we know of how the majority of the grounders view magic, that they may perceive us as visitors from their gods, but that would not necessarily be a negative complication. To foster good will, we have brought a large quantity of small manufactured items that we will provide as gifts."

  She did not let her reaction to his pedantic tone show. "What if they are not in a gift taking mood?"

  "Then the security teams will subdue them as required."

  "Launch in progress."

  Nali fell silent. It was finally here!

  They were leaving the cold grey metal confines of Orbital B to go down to the fresh, open air of an entirely new world. Everything about it was different from the world of the life before. Not even the shape of the continents was the same! It was a big, open world with everything to learn and nothing to remind her of the life that she had once lived.

  It would be a fantastic world to get lost in.

  "Descent has begun."

  Nali felt no sense of movement or acceleration, of course. The shuttle's spells eliminated even the slightest jostling from the high speed reentry. She might as well have been wrapped up in a blanket in her own bunk.

  "We are in atmosphere."

  Walis joined when a cheer sprang up from the passengers, but Nali just smiled. It would not be long now.

  Subdued chatter between the crew compartment and Orbital B came through the announcement imp. Lhaertiis must have left the Key engaged. As some of the other passengers began to chat and talk of what it would be like on the surface, Nali focused on the imp to keep track of the shuttle's progress. Walis, not unusually, took a small skry pad from a pocket and began reading.

  "Orbital Control, Eagle deploying glide flaps." That was Carlata, the Second Pilot, who had charge of the comm while the Chief Pilot actively guided the craft. She had never made any disparaging remarks, but Nali knew that she felt an intense distaste for Freaks, which, since Nali was the only Freak aboard the orbital, translated to an intense distaste for her.

  "Check systems." Lhaertiis ordered.

  "All systems optimal." That was the Flight Tech, a sorcerer named Bhutrhis whom Nali had only met a few times.

&n
bsp; A warbling tone flared from the imp.

  "Missile warning!" Carlata's unnecessary announcement came out as a strangled gasp.

  "Brace for maneuvering!" Lhaertiis screeched. Panic was clear in his voice.

  Nali was too shocked to react.

  Then the shuttle lunged sideways so hard that she was slammed against the webbing in spite of the dampening spells.

  Something like a giant hammer blow rang through the compartment and people began yelling and cursing.

  Then the lights went off and the artificial gravity died. Nali was crushed against the spine of her rack by breath stealing force and in the same panicked instant she realized that the shuttle was spiraling out of control.

  Self powered, the imp still glowed at the center of the compartment.

  "Orbital Control, we are going down. Repeat, we are going down." Carlata's voice had an almost unnatural calm.

  With the yells and the curses of the other passengers crushed into silence, Nali's vision started to go black.

  Then the pressure relented.

  Heavy vibration shook her about in the webbing, but it seemed that the shuttle was no longer spinning.

  The lights flickered on and the gravity came back. The dampeners were not operating at full strength, so Nali continued to feel every swerve and dodge that the damaged shuttle made as it continued to descend.

  "Orbital Control, partial systems reset accomplished. Main propulsion not functioning.. Emergency deceleration spell operable. Will try for a glide landing."

  That was Bhutrhis. Carlata must be too occupied with helping Lhaertiis to manage the comm.

  "All passengers, prepare for an emergency landing." The Chief Pilot's voice was also once again under control.

  Nali made herself take slow, regulated breaths.

  She felt a jar, then another, much heavier one, then a third, lighter than the first two. The lights blinked, drawing gasps but no yells.

  Then nothing happened.

  "All passengers, disengage restraints and enact emergency exit procedures." Lhaertiis sounded amazed.

  "Alright everyone!" Walis called. "You heard Chief Pilot Lhaertiis. Stay calm and follow procedure! Give a shout if you have been injured and need assistance."

  Nali's hands flew to her buckles.

  Scaling down the emergency ladders was something of an anticlimax. By some miracle, no one, including the crew, had suffered so much as a minor contusion.

  The shuttle, on the other hand, would never fly again. It had belly-flopped into what looked like a barley field, but it had suffered only minor damage to the undercarriage from that impact. The actual crippling blow had come from the missile. The detonation had sheered off the entire starboard wing and peeled away two thirds of the outer hull on that side, leaving the inner hull blackened and scarred.

  Nali, with everyone else, gravitated to that side to ogle the damage.

  Elroie, a woman in the Economic Section who had happened to wander near Nali and Walis, said, "Look there. See that really bad spot? It almost ruptured the inner hull."

  Someone behind Nali said, "The passenger compartment wall is thin. If it had gotten through the inner hull, it would have depressurized the compartment and we would all have suffocated. We were lucky that it was a near miss."

  "What if we had taken a direct hit?" Elroie asked of no one in particular.

  "If we had taken a direct hit," Walis replied in a matter of fact manner, "we would all have been vaporized."

  THIRTY-TWO

  The sorrel was very cooperative and extremely well trained. The horse almost seemed to know where Telriy wanted it to go before she tugged the reins. She had not traveled a great deal on horseback in her life, but this had to be the most comfortable horse ride that she had ever had. The animal had a simple gait that she learned almost immediately, allowing her to move with it rather than be moved by it, and Celly was not at all discomfited as they began to travel through the forest. While she continued to nap as the horse plodded along, she did open her eyes and blink at the greenery from time to time.

  Once again, Telriy set their course to the south and, once again, their path had to be a meandering one around the thickets and the boles of the larger trees. After perhaps a league, they came upon a fairly open game trail that was going in the right direction and she followed it after only a moment's consideration.

  Sometime later, the game trail came to a stream where the clear, inviting water seemed to dance along its rocky bed. Telriy halted only long enough for her and the horse to get a good drink, to feed and change Celly, to refill her flasks, and finally to rinse and wring out used nappies.

  Green with moss, the stones that lined the stream bed and banks appeared to extend back under the turf beneath the forest. Their light color, a pale sand, and tight texture reminded her of the ashlars of the Monolith ruins and the thought crossed her mind that the quarry used by the unknown builders might be nearby.

  A branch of the game trail crossed the stream and continued in a mainly southeasterly direction and as the sorrel presented no objection, she told him to follow it. Within a hundred paces, piles of stone began to thrust up through the undergrowth, in places forcing the roots of the willow oaks that predominated in the area to form great claws to gain purchase. Though the trees were massive, it was clear that at one time, perhaps hundreds of years previously, the area had been cleared.

  "Keep a watch out for pits hidden by the vines and bushes," she warned the horse. "There might be voids amongst the stones and I need you too much right now to have you break your leg."

  Not much father, it became clear that the jumbled stones were cut blocks and after only a few dozen paces more that the trail followed the line of a half-buried paved road. With some study, she was able to make out lines suggestive of fallen walls amongst the trees.

  Could this be an outlying town in league with the ancient city atop the Monolith?

  As more of the ruin became visible, the forest thinned and they began to pass through larger and larger patches of sun. The warmth on her face and the smooth, soothing motion of the sorrel began to make her drowsy. The horse had proven that it knew what it was doing, so she did not become overly concerned when she began to nod off. It had been a very long day, and a short nap should revive her a bit.

  When she blinked her eyes open, she was sure that it had only been a few minutes, but the half overgrown rubble had flowered into a full fledged ruined city with standing walls, large, nearly intact buildings, and mostly clear pavement on the wide street that the sorrel still faithfully followed.

  The odd thing was that there were no trees within sight in any direction.

  Another peculiar fact was that she had never seen any open ruin below the Monolith, even though she had overflown the great forest uncounted times.

  The familiarly of the outlines of the mostly intact buildings in the distance began to nag at her.

  When the street -- more like an avenue now -- opened out into a cleared, level space where she could see dozens upon dozens of men working on several almost complete skyships, all doubt fled her mind.

  Somehow the sorrel had brought them back.

  They were back atop the Monolith.

  THIRTY-THREE

  nhBreen counted the days of his and Mar's sojourn in the Great Waste.

  His dreams gave conflicting impressions of the potential length of it, and differences in the nocturnal visions suggested that the outcome of this side path was dependent upon many singular decisions, most of which would not be taken by Mar or by him.

  The shortest period that he had foreseen was just over a year, but that clouded dream had not revealed how he might increase the chances of achieving that preferred alternative.

  So, he took each day as it came. He and Mar discussed magic every single day, generally from after breakfast and morning chores until midday. nhBreen would expound on topics as was his want, but welcomed discussion and debate. Mar was, without any doubt, the most intuitive and powerful
magic user that had ever lived and his insights into the fundamental interactions of ethereal flux were revolutionary.

  In the afternoons, the two of them would dig for scrap -- exercise was necessary for a healthy mind -- or practice the hand to hand combat routines taught to the vanished defenders of The City. nhBreen found both activities soothing and Mar took to them as an obviously welcome distraction.

  From supper until dark, magic again became their primary focus. As time went on, Mar became comfortable using the knowledge that he had gained from their discussions to openly perform flux experiments while they sat about their campfire. Quite naturally, nhBreen began to offer targeted critiques of techniques and results. Early in his career in the life that he had lost when the world ended, he had had many students, but once he had advanced into the upper tiers and especially after he had been given command of the Bastion, he had been awarded a continuing exemption from teaching. He had never been enamored of the necessary chore, but now he found more than a little satisfaction in transferring the knowledge that he had gained from a lifetime of weaving spells.

  At least once a day and often as many as a dozen times, the young wizard would leave without notice, disappearing into undertime in the blink of an eye. These absences never lasted for longer than a minute of nhBreen's time. Usually, the episodes appeared to cost Mar no more than minutes or hours, but on occasion it seemed as if many days had passed for the young wizard.

  Mar did not volunteer where he went or what he did on these undertime excursions and nhBreen, trusting that his dreams would reveal any facts that were pertinent to his own goals, did not ask.

  When his dreams began to finally hint that the sojourn would soon be over, he surprised himself by experiencing a moment of regret.

  On the five hundred and seventh day of their sojourn, as nhBreen began washing dishes from an excellent breakfast that Mar had procured from some inn near the Iron Shoals, the thief vanished.