Jack smiled at Dante, whose expression had softened and, in fact, was fighting off a smile of his own. “Man, we cannot say no to new likings,” Jack said.
“No, I don’t think we can. Welcome aboard, Bava.”
The Yeti grinned, trying to imitate the human expression. He shook Dante’s hand, though the bared fangs and gaping maw would take some getting used to. “Thank you, Mystic Dante. Bava will not disappoint!”
Six
The technicians opened the psionic drill’s chassis. Ozone permeated the air, a reminder of their stalled mission until they repaired the device.
The Wyrm stirred under Shaia’s skin. Free of its ancient prison—opened by their drill—the great beast’s essence surged forth and bound itself to Shaia. He felt honored, once the shock wore off. Of all the Pirr present, the ancient one had chosen him. Only the scientific team knew of his honor, though soon he’d be Exalted. The Archon would know his name and celebrate it.
That was the near future. Today, he listened to Haim’s report. Shaia understood the technical jargon but held scant patience for his colleague’s droning.
“Get to the point.”
Haim blinked, cut off mid-sentence. He bowed his head. “Yes, Exalted One. As you know, the barrier becomes more resilient every time we force it open. Only a single Lost One can come through before the aperture reconstitutes, er, the Rift reseals. We are seeking a way to hold it open, but so far—”
“How long until the machine is repaired?”
Irritation rippled across Haim’s features, yet he bowed to hide it. It didn’t escape Shaia’s notice. That small indication of backbone made the lead technician a strong candidate for the next Wyrm. Shaia preferred Haim to the younger scientists who more or less fawned over the chosen ones.
“The required power exceeds the drill’s capacity, Exalted One. I do not think it will be of any more use.” Haim studied the technicians tinkering with the drill’s inner workings and seemed disappointed. “I daresay it will not open the Rift again.”
“Explain.”
The tech turned his gaze from the drill and faced Shaia. “The conduits have melted to slag. They cannot be repaired. The entire power source must be replaced, though it will do us no good. The machine, even repaired, lacks the power to drill through to the prison again.”
Shaia’s lips pulled back in a sneer; the Wyrm’s expression, not his own. Likewise, the alien sense of impatience and anger fell over him like a blanket. He growled.
“But you said there was good news.”
“In a sense, Exalted One. My team have developed an apparatus with far greater capacity, led by me, of course; however, its creation is delicate work. My calculations, though they account for swift construction, require six months to allay any risk of catastrophic failure.”
Shaia bristled at the mention of six months. The Wyrm within coiled, yet Shaia’s temper stayed in check. “What do you consider catastrophic, Haim?”
“Worst case, a black hole on the surface of the planet. Thus, the Rift would never be accessible to us again, even if we somehow managed to escape.”
Shaia scowled. Their ancient lords were powerful indeed, but even they couldn’t circumvent time.
The trouble was the schedule. The female human escaped the Rift planet weeks ago and, soon, Earth Fleet would mount a tactical response. Alone, the humans could not match the Pirr, but it was no secret the race’s alliances were strong. They would bring allies. Aside from the Ancient Ones, the Pirr dispensed with such debilities. Alliances were a sign of weakness. The peace treaty with the humans was insult enough. The Archon would not break his word unless the gods forced it; fortunately, the gods were in a position to do just that.
“Very well. Keep working. I expect weekly reports.” Shaia turned and walked away, paying no attention to his subordinate’s bows and promises of success.
Promises meant nothing, not until they were fulfilled.
Dhom had waded into knee-deep water. She took solace in the gentle ripple and flow. Nao sat on a log, watching. Shaia arrived and joined Nao, taking a seat beside him. Perfectly still, Dhom might have been no more than a stone in the river.
Shaia observed Dhom’s stillness. “What is she doing?”
Nao shook his head. Since his joining with the Wyrm, the skin around his eyes had darkened into bruise-colored smudges, tendrils spreading across his cheeks. Shaia and Dhom sported the same tell-tale markings.
Dhom’s head turned, and she peered at Shaia; the surface of her eyes had turned yellow, a pair of topaz globes. Her hand knifed into the water and snapped back with a pale lizard in her grip. She scrutinized the beast, then snapped the creature’s body like a whip. Bone cracked, and she dropped the limp form into the river.
“It thought it could hide from me.” She sounded equal parts offended and amused as she walked out of the water and joined the other two on the fallen log. Her gait had changed. It was predatory, more precise than it had been before the Wyrm.
Shaia felt his own Wyrm stir in response to her presence. Dhom’s integration progressed quickly while Shaia felt his was falling behind. Although he wished to obey the gods, it was a different matter when it required personal sacrifice. Attached to his free will more than he realized, he must let go or his Wyrm would seek a more compliant host.
“How long will we be trapped here?” Nao’s voice was raspier than in the days before the joining.
Shaia frowned. “The drill cannot be repaired. Haim is making another, but it won’t be ready for six months.”
Dhom growled. “Too long.”
“Agreed. We must reveal ourselves to the Pirr at large before the humans act.”
Nao grunted. “If that human had not been aided by the dragon. If she had not escaped…” He let the statement hang.
“But she did. We must brood over it no more,” Dhom said, giving Nao a hard look. Her voice was flat.
Dhom’s Wyrm emerged through the Rift first, choosing her straightaway. She, too, abandoned the chase after the human and a few of her ilk escaped. Despite this, Shaia supported Dhom without question. Given a choice between battling a dragon and squashing some mere defiant mortal, he, too, would choose battle.
He also rounded on Nao. “I agree. Let us brood no more. Dhom’s victory was a sweet one.”
Nao shrugged. “True, but it cost us time. We need to free the others much faster.”
Dhom gazed at them through the corner of her eye. “I have one. A human.”
“Mortals can’t break the barrier,” Nao said. “If they could, we would have been free eons ago.”
Dhom laughed. “You would think so! But my kill revealed many things to me before I finished him. My foe had imprinted his ability to breach the worlds on the human when they united.”
“The human has the knowledge?” Shaia’s doubt was clear in his voice. “But even their Mystics don’t have that kind of power.”
“Some do.” Nao was thoughtful.
“Dragons are seeking and choosing hosts again. This human is one of them,” Dhom assured them. “If we have the human, we can force him to open the rift. There will be no need of the Pirr’s toys then.”
There was a ripple in the air as Dhom shared a piece of her knowledge with the other Wyrms. Shaia felt the jolt, then a sliver of cold working its way into his mind.
“We must seek this human,” Shaia stated. “I will do this. If the dragons have human allies, humanity must be our first target.”
Dhom and Nao’s approval radiated through the air. “We will continue here while you seek the human,” Dhom told Shaia, and Nao nodded in agreement with her.
Shaia’s Wyrm relished the task. It bathed its host in its light, and Shaia’s heart swelled. He was the newest host, yet his Wyrm was ancient and wise. He would prove his worth by opening the gates to their prison and welcoming an army to conquer the galaxy.
He basked in thoughts of revenge.
Shaia boarded Eclipse Blade, ignoring the smart ship’s greeti
ng. As he sat in the pilot’s chair, the door sealed behind him, and he strapped in as the ship launched and soared out of the atmosphere. He sent a greeting to the guardian ship in orbit, then set course for the nearest wormhole.
“Greetings, Chosen Shaia. Our course is set. We will arrive at Hoi System in four days. May I offer you entertainment for the journey? We have recordings of a human genre popular among the Yeti at the moment—”
“No music,” Shaia snapped. This was a ridiculous trend among the ship A.I.’s. More of them were expressing interest in other species’ cultures. It was like a spreading disease.
Vaguely aware he might be interested in the experience, that was another life, and the Wyrm had no patience for frivolity. He had four days before they reached Hoi. His time would not be wasted.
“As you wish, Chosen.”
The ship seemed disappointed. Shaia ignored its words and tone. While the Wyrm had memories of getting its due worship and obedience ages ago, much time had passed. The Archon was no longer the lowly Voice of the Wyrms, but the leader of the Pirr. A natural progression. He would learn his place in time. If he failed, other contenders for the throne would arise.
“Perhaps a fictional drama? We have an animated feature—”
“Nothing,” Shaia spat. “Offer no further entertainment, ship. Obey my orders and be silent unless I say otherwise. Do you understand?”
“Yes.” It sounded sufficiently meek.
Shaia wanted to be sure. “You had better. I have waited too long to be distracted by a construct. Send all the information you have on the Archon to the front screen. If there are audio recordings that may be relevant; you may queue those as well.”
A moment later, the required information appeared in blissful silence. Shaia grinned, showing his teeth, longer and sharper than a month ago and more vicious-looking by the day. He enjoyed it. “Well done. Remember; if you disobey me, I will have you scrapped.”
The ship did not respond. Its silence might have been sulky, but Shaia didn’t acknowledge it. He read the first file in peace.
Seven
Julia sat with legs curled under her, watching the cabin’s screen. Amadeus’ eastern hemisphere dominated the view, growing larger as Red Star entered orbit, then dove into the atmosphere. Her stomach flipped as they cut through the clouds and zoomed toward the abandoned city.
They moved at incredible speeds perpendicular to the planet’s surface. The floor remained down, though she knew the ship’s nose pointed toward the surface. It made for a disorienting landing, yet the sensation thrilled her.
She looked at Coraolis, who appeared exceedingly pale, stealing occasional glances at the screen. He must not agree with her.
“Star, perhaps something on screen?” she asked.
“Oh. I thought you would want to view the landing.”
“It’s fine, Jules.” Coraolis waved his hand at her. “I’m fine. I know you love this bit.”
“I see,” Star said. “You are experiencing vertigo due to your vision not syncing with your physical experience. My apologies.” The view disappeared. “I hope this is better, M1C Coraolis.”
Coraolis relaxed into his chair. “For me, it is, yes. Any sign of life down there?”
“None. I’m afraid the Lost Jewel stands abandoned.”
“It doesn’t seem very lost,” Julia observed.
“To clarify, it is dubbed as such for it is lost to the Pirr. Its abandonment was the fatal blow for the ancient empire. The dragons drove them from this, their second home planet, and sent them into exile on Hoi.”
“What happened to the first one?” Julia asked.
“The truth is lost in myth. Reading between the lines, however, I believe they lost their original home to a supernova.”
“So, we’re likely dealing with a civilization reaching level one technology at least ten-thousand years ago,” Coraolis said. “Quite a head start on us. No wonder their technology is so advanced. Appreciate the intel.”
“Thank you.” Red Star sounded modest. “Would you like to explore the city?”
“We’d better check in with the dragon first,” Julia replied. “He’s the reason we’re here. Nada, are you ready?” she called over her shoulder.
The ship shuddered with turbulence as Nada lurched from the pilot’s chamber, sloshing electrolyte drink from the bottle in her hand. She grinned nervously and dropped sideways into the seat beside Julia, white-knuckling the armrests.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” she said as the auto-beltstraps coiled around her midsection and over her shoulders.
Julia glanced over. “That’s daring, moving about the cabin right now. Having any second thoughts?”
Nada laughed. “Not even for a second. Why? Do I look like it?”
Julia grinned in response.
“My data on dragons indicates they are untrustworthy,” Red Star spoke. “Their will cannot be forced, and they will do only what they perceive as right. Their minds can never be changed.”
“Star, we talked about that. All your data comes from a people who hate dragons…and that’s putting it mildly,” Nada answered. “Yes, I’m ready. Maybe cold feet, but I’ll get over it.”
Julia didn’t blame her. The day she’d bonded with her dragon, there’d been no time for doubts. Nada, on the other hand, had weeks to rethink the decision.
The ship seemed to have evened out, gravity no longer pulling on them. Coraolis got up and went toward the pilot’s chamber. “You two go on. I’ll keep an eye on things in the physical world.”
Julia opened her eyes in the Astral Plane and nearly dropped back into her body. Mere inches away, the biggest dragon she’d ever seen filled her vision. Its eyes closed to show a mere slash of pupil a mile wide.
She drifted away until she could see all of its head. Amadeus’ dragon had curled around the astral representation of a city. Unlike the abstract shapes a human city took on in the Astral Plane, these buildings had been built on this side. The walls glowed, figures and alien letters moving on most of the surfaces.
Coraolis had described this to her, yet she hadn’t comprehended the strangeness until now. She wanted to hover closer to explore, but the dragon’s mountainous body encircled it.
“Hello?” she called out.
The dragon opened one eye.
“Humans?” The timbre of its voice made her astral body vibrate. Its head raised, bits of astral dust falling from its scaly head and maw.
“My name is Julia, and this is Nada. We’re seeking a dragon bond. We were hoping you would—”
The dragon swept its head around, startling Julia into backpedaling. It turned its gaze on Nada, blue flames bright in its eyes. To her credit, Nada held fast.
“I do not bond with humans.” The dragon put its head down and closed its eyes.
“Hear my reasons,” Nada said. She drifted closer, extending her hands in supplication. “We know the Pirr were driven from here long ago. We are told it was you who did this.”
“So?” The dragon yawned, its open mouth like an abyss. “Only one has gotten past my guard in ten-thousand years for I was lured into complacency by humans. It will not happen again.”
“You understand the Pirr are a threat once more?” Julia joined in, getting closer to the enormous dragon.
“Once. No longer.”
“They are freeing Wyrms from their prison and bonding with them,” Nada said. “I was there when they made the first breach. I wouldn’t have escaped if it weren’t for a benevolent member of your race.”
“Indeed?” the Amadeus dragon said. He seemed to be paying more attention, and Julia realized its head might scrape the planet’s stratosphere if they were in the physical realm.
“He gave me time to escape…but we haven’t heard from him since then.” Nada shouted to be heard, its head far above them. They drifted upward.
Fire roiled from the corner of the dragon’s mouth. “My duty is here.”
“Then at least advise us,” Julia sh
outed up. “What do we do? What planet should we visit next?”
“You only waste time. We never abandon our vigil. Perhaps seek a young one that yet seeks purpose.” The dragon’s chest rumbled. Julia heard the crackling of a massive fire inside his body.
“Where do we do that? Another binary star?” Julia asked.
“Go to our home. The Galactic Heart. Your dragons will guide you.” The dragon growled, low in its throat. “There, maybe you will find dragons willing to bond.”
The head came down, the fiery eyes assessing them. “You are brave beings. Go now with my blessing.”
Julia felt a tremble inside. It came from her dragon, a mix of anticipation and nostalgia. She was excited and nodded. “Thank you for your guidance, Ancient One. If there’s anything we can do—”
“Destroy the scourge. Return them to their prison. Keep them from ever returning.” The dragon rose up, one beat of its massive wings as it left the surface. “Avenge our fallen brother.”
Nada’s expression saddened. “Fallen…”
She looked up, and her brows lowered. “We will,” she called out, yet the giant had departed. It entered orbit and flew into space, beating its world-spanning wings. Julia repeated Nada’s promise silently. The Ancient One had confirmed it; the one who had saved Nada was slain.
They’d deal with this threat, and then they’d return together to tell the ancient dragon about it. He deserved to know.
“No.”
“What do you mean, no? We need to follow this course,” Julia argued. The path had been imprinted on her mind by the time she returned to her body; she knew exactly where to go, and she felt her dragon’s urgency.
“No one is permitted to go to the center,” Red Star said. “It is cursed. The shared fires of the galactic forge burn the souls of the unfaithful and destroy their instruments. I am that instrument. I will not take you.”
“I thought you agreed to help us?” Coraolis had gotten the same blast of urgency from his dragon and attempted to program the course into the ship’s screen. The ship discarded all input. Coraolis frowned. “You promised us, Star.”
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