Void Wyrm: The Magitech Chronicles Book 2

by Chris Fox

  The words knocked Voria back a step. When a goddess spoke—even a dead goddess—wise mortals listened. “Let’s say I was willing to listen to your mad plan. How would I even get there? I don’t have a ship.”

  “Now, that,” Aurelia said, delivering a dazzling smile. “Is something we can fix.”

  She gestured, and the doors opened to reveal her father sheepishly eavesdropping.

  16

  WHAT'S A TEXAS?

  “This is your idea of a ship?” Voria demanded. “She’s not even space-worthy—and even if she was, she’s a simple Ternus frigate. She doesn’t even have a spelldrive. How would we open a Fissure?”

  Voria surveyed the long, rectangular frigate. She was lined with Ternus Gauss cannons—an imprecise weapon, but one that could be fired as many times as needed. Then Voria noticed the hastily welded cannon along the bottom. A spellcannon, from the looks of it.

  “Father, I know you tried, but are you certain you want to trust your daughter’s fate to…this?” She touched the side of the hull, and orange rust flaked off.

  “She has a full spelldrive, and she has the most important quality a vessel can have, Ria.” Her father leaned closer, tousling her hair as he had when she was a child. “She’s free. You’re broke. This is what you have. Deal with circumstances—”

  “—as they are, not as I wish them to be.” Voria frowned. She hated that axiom more than any other, but she also admitted that learning it early had saved her a great deal of heartache over the course of her life. “The ship will do nicely. Thank you, Father.”

  “There is another option.” Dirk smiled suddenly. “Why not ask your mother?”

  “You know as well as I that she wouldn’t even return the missive.” Voria rested a hand against the frigate’s hull. “Does she have a name?”

  “Her name is Big Texas,” her father supplied with an affectionate grin. “She’s not much larger than my first ship.”

  “What does it mean?” Voria asked. “What’s a Texas?”

  “It’s a regional designation from ancient Terra. One of the Ternus colonies is called New Texas. Maybe there’s some relation.”

  “Well, she certainly isn’t very big.” Voria tugged at the airlock latch, and the door reluctantly rumbled up into the ceiling. “Let’s see what she’s got.”

  They entered a narrow cargo bay. A metal catwalk led over it and into the central portion of the ship. There were no proper quarters, just eight individual bunks. Beyond the bunks lay a tiny kitchen, a head, and the cockpit of the ship.

  “Its…cozy.”

  “Thank you,” called a muffled voice from the cockpit.

  “Excuse me?” Voria said, quickening her step. She pushed through the mess, into the cockpit.

  A pair of legs poked out from under a console, wearing a standard set of Ternus overalls. “Hey, there.” The small man attached to the legs wheeled out into view. He had unruly red hair, and his thick glasses made him look like some sort of studious waterfowl. “Names Pickus. You must be the new owner of the Texas. You got a name?”

  “Voria. Ma—Captain Voria,” she supplied, offering a hand. Pickus took it, and she helped haul him to his feet. “What is your role here, Pickus?”

  “I’m a mechanic. Well, an engineer, technically. But these days I mostly just fix stuff. I come with the ship. You want her to keep flying, you need me to keep eating.” Pickus gave a sly grin. “I ain’t even asking for pay. You just gotta give me a place to berth, and the stuff I need to fix the ship.”

  “Well, it appears I have a crew, if a small one.” She turned a smile at her father. “Thank you. This is exactly what I needed to get started.”

  “What will you do now?” Aurelia asked.

  “If I’m going to head into the Umbral Depths I need a crew, and not just any crew. I need Aran, and my tech mages. I need Nara.”

  Each of them had filled a role, and all would be needed to attempt something as mad as this.

  “And how are you going to secure them?” Aurelia asked. “You’ve been relieved of command.”

  Voria smiled. “I’ve got an idea about that. All Marines are entitled to leave after an extended campaign, which means they can get up to four weeks off. I can’t officially command, but I could take some friends on a pleasure cruise into the Umbral Depths. I just have to convince them it’s worth it.”

  “Wait, we’re going where now?” Pickus adjusted his glasses. “The Umbral what?”

  “Is he serious?” Voria asked, looking to her father.

  “He’s from Ternus, and has next to no experience with magic.” Her father shrugged. “At least he can keep this tub flying. Now then, is there anything else you need from me? If not, I’d like to get back to my, uh … studies with Aurelia.”

  “Ugh.” She crinkled her nose. “Every time you make a little headway, you intentionally say something to nauseate me.”

  “We all need a hobby.” Dirk winked at her, and started walking back to Aurelia’s shuttle.

  The Tender waited until he’d departed the ship before she spoke. “You will face loss, Voria; of that I am certain. I don’t know how you intend to persuade them to follow you, but it’s unlikely they will survive the darkness.”

  “I am so glad I have no idea what you are talking about.” Pickus laid down on his wheeled cart and slid back under the terminal.

  “I’ll find a way. It’s all I can do.” Voria hung her jacket from a torn panel in the wall. “At least we have a ship.”

  17

  EQUALS

  Aran guided the fighter into a smooth landing atop the Tender’s floating palace. The landing struts clicked down with a whir, and the canopy rose, exposing him to the howling wind outside. This high up, the wind must be ever-present.

  He climbed from the cockpit, quickly surveying the landing area. A pair of guards in golden Mark X spellarmor flanked a door leading below. Both carried ornate spears, and Aran could feel their magical strength from thirty meters away. He did not want to tangle with these guys, especially since his spellarmor was still back at the kamiza. Erika had balked at the very idea he might bring it.

  “I’ve come to speak with Major Voria,” he roared over the wind. He approached with his hands raised high, hoping the Tender’s guards hadn’t been instructed to kill intruders.

  “Are you expected?” asked the guard on the right, a woman with the clipped accent of Shayan Nobility. She sounded a good deal like Ree, though older.

  “I should probably have sent a missive. I’m willing to wait here, if you’ll take word to her that I’m here.” Aran settled into a comfortable resting stance.

  Both guards reacted instantly, flowing into combat stances.

  “Whoah, easy.” He raised his hands again, standing perfectly still. “What triggered that?”

  “When an Outrider of Virkon settles into a centered stance, wise warriors strike first,” the woman growled. “Sentinel, go inform the Tender we have a guest. Ask her for instructions on how best to…conduct him into the palace.”

  The second guard opened the door and slipped inside, leaving an awkward silence. The woman hadn’t lowered her spear. She stood motionless, as still as a statue. He had no doubt she could impale him instantly, so he tried to stay as still as possible.

  “Can I put my hands down?” he asked after several minutes.

  “Slowly, yes. But keep them away from your spellblade, or I will remove them.” The words were friendly—cheerful, even.

  “Okay.” he lowered his hands. “Listen, I know you’re guarding and all, but can I ask you a question?”

  “You may ask. I might answer.”

  “You called me an Outrider. That’s the second time I’ve heard that term. What does it mean exactly?”

  Her spear didn’t waver. Not even a millimeter. “Now that is a very curious question. How is it you know Drakon Style, but don’t know what an Outrider is?”

  “The short version? I’ve been mind-wiped.” He offered a smile, though he co
uldn’t tell if it moved her at all, since she was encased in that golden armor. “And, as you can imagine, I’m a little curious about my past. So can you tell me about these Outriders?”

  The door opened and the second guard returned. “He’s allowed below, with no escort.”

  “The Tender said that?” The woman slowly lowered her spear. “Very well. Head down those stairs and take the first entryway on the right. You’ll find Voria on the balcony there.”

  “Thank you.” Aran gave a grateful nod as he headed below.

  He could have pressed for details about the Outriders, but that would put the guard in a difficult position. He had a name now, and could ask Erika directly. If she refused to tell him, he could start asking around until he found someone else who knew about these Outriders.

  The walls were all carved from a reddish-golden wood that Aran assumed must come from Shaya herself. Potent magical energies radiated from the walls in waves—even from the parts that bore no runes. He followed the stairs gradually down, and they spilled him out onto a balcony wide enough to house a full company.

  Several golden couches floated throughout the room, and three were occupied near the center of the room. Aran recognized Voria instantly; her posture was ramrod straight despite sitting in an opulent chair designed for relaxation.

  The man to her right had similar features—a bit more angular, but in a boldly handsome way. He was the type of guy that drew every eye in the room, unless he happened to be sitting next to an even more beautiful woman, which he was.

  Aran had had no idea what to expect of the Tender—but whatever he’d imagined, this wasn’t it.

  She wore a smaller set of golden spellarmor, very similar to her guards. It left her face bare, and framed by brilliant hair. At first, he thought it was scarlet, but as she turned it became almost blond. The hair wasn’t what caught his attention, though. Her face was—perhaps literally—divine. It had the kind of beauty that inspired artists to devote their lives to capturing it.

  Aran straightened his posture, settling into that instinctive stance again. He approached them at a walk, moving directly to Voria’s couch. “Major, I—”

  “It’s Captain now,” she corrected.

  “Voria,” Aran started again. Her eyes widened at the use of her name, but he continued. “I heard the outcome of the trial, and I came to hear it from you. Is that how we’re being rewarded for what we did on Marid? They’re demoting you and whitewashing the story so Thalas comes out the hero? Do you even realize how that will play on Ternus? They already know the truth.”

  “Father, Tender … allow me to introduce Lieutenant Aran of the Confederate Marines. He is—was—one of mine.” She arched an eyebrow, and Aran reluctantly extended a hand to Dirk.

  The man’s grip was firm, but not enough to suggest he had anything to prove. He added a respectful nod, which Aran returned. The man’s posture was relaxed, but he radiated danger. Aran might not remember how, but he recognized the presence of a master.

  The Tender simply nodded at him, so he nodded back. Dirk’s jaw fell open, and Voria gave a delighted little laugh. The sound was even more terrifying than a Wyrm’s wingbeats.

  “It’s a pleasure, Lieutenant.” Aurelia sized him up, and he couldn’t tell whether he met her unspoken standard. “You are welcome in my home, so long as Voria will have you.”

  “Thanks, but I’ve got my own place. I just came to talk to Voria, then I’ll be on my way.” He turned back to Voria. “Tell me you’re not going to take this lying down.”

  “The demotion? Aran, since we’re apparently on a first-name basis, let’s be candid. I don’t give two shits about the Confederacy, or Shayan politics. I care about Confederate citizens—lives, Lieutenant. Near countless numbers of innocent lives, all trying to survive in a sector overrun by demons, or Krox, or Wyrms. So yes, I’m going to take this lying down. I won’t fight it. Instead, I’m going to sail into the Umbral Depths, and I’m going to find the world that Marid left for us to find. It’s there, not here, that we’ll find the tools to fight this war. And since I know the Confederacy won’t support my mission, I’m not even going to tell them about it.”

  “And you want me to go with you.” Aran gestured at a floating carafe, and a goblet materialized in his hand. The carafe filled it with a sweet-smelling golden liquid. Might as well enjoy the perks while he had them.

  “You’re going to fight me on this?” Voria gave a sarcastic laugh and rolled her eyes. “This is simply brilliant. My ship is a floating can, and my first doesn’t want to go. That’s saying nothing of how hard it will be to get Nara on board. Eros won’t release her easily.”

  “What about Crewes? And Kez and Bord?” Aran asked.

  Voria didn’t answer. Dirk and Aurelia both avoided his gaze uncomfortably.

  “Oh, this is rich. You want me to get them on board, don’t you?” It was Aran’s turn to laugh. He should have expected this. “And the worst part is…you already know I’m going to do it, don’t you?”

  “I’m sorry, Aran. Before we go any further, I ask you to consider something, just for a moment. I am no more interested in journeying into the depths than you are. I don’t want to go. I don’t want to die. I want to clear my name, and see you properly honored.” She leaned forward in her chair, stabbing a finger in his direction. “Don’t assume this is my mission. You want to be equals? Fine, we’re equals. I’m just as tired of this as you. If you want to be angry with anyone, it should be her.” She nodded her head in Aurelia’s direction.

  “She’s not wrong,” the Tender admitted. “I did show her the first augury, and this one.”

  That put things in a new perspective. In a way, Voria was as much a victim of circumstance as he was. “All right, I’ll see if I can get Crewes and the others on board.”

  He had no idea how he was going to do that. Let’s fly into the Umbral Depths with no support, no material, and oh yeah on a ship that seemed to be coming apart…well it didn’t exactly make for a winning pitch.

  18

  UH OH

  Nara chewed the wooden end of her pen, then finally added a notation to the spell she’d been researching. It combined void with illusion—well, theoretically at least. She didn’t even know if that was really possible. She looked up and considered heading back out to the stacks to locate a couple more reference tomes.

  She decided to be lazy, instead, and turned back to the previous page, surveying with pride the list she’d made. She’d identified seven distinct spells in her aura, four first-level and three second-level. There were several more spells unidentified, but she remained confident she could puzzle those out as well.

  1st Level

  Shift

  Icy Armor

  Sleep

  Void Bolt

  2nd Level

  Instant Growth

  Paralyze

  Invisibility

  “Nara.” Frit hurried up to her desk, drawing the attention of several other students. Frit lowered her voice. “You said you knew Major Voria, right?”

  “Yeah, why do you ask?” Nara’s heart sank as she rose from the desk.

  “Well she just walked into the library.” Frit pointed back through the rows of shelves. Sure enough, Voria had just strode into the library. She wore the same uniform, but the patch on her shoulder had been replaced with captain’s bars.

  “Depths, I think she was demoted.” Nara hunched low against the table as the major—the captain now—strode by.

  “Why are you hiding? I thought she was your commanding officer.” Frit blinked flaming eyes in puzzlement.

  “She is…or was. But I was conscripted. They didn’t give me a choice. And Voria isn’t very friendly. She’s never liked me, I don’t think.” Nara breathed easier once Voria’s path had taken her across the library.

  “It looks like she’s here to meet with Eros.” Frit stared after Voria as the captain disappeared into Eros’s office.

  “That can’t be good.” Nara sat on t
he edge of the desk. “She’s here about me, I know it.”

  “What do you think she wants?”

  “If I had to guess, she’s got yet another mission she expects me to tag along with.” Nara frowned. She liked Voria, but knew the sentiment wasn’t returned. To Voria—to many people—Nara would never be anything but a reformed pirate. At least when Eros called her pirate girl she got the sense he was inspiring her to be something more.

  “That doesn’t sound so bad. I’d love to get out of this place and go do something that matters.” Frit’s words were bitter, and brought Nara up short.

  “I guess I really do take my freedom for granted.” She looked at the collar of sigils around Frit’s neck. “Does that thing control you?”

  “Yes.” Frit nodded sadly. “My people are all fitted with one as soon as we’re captured. When we’re sold, our new master is given the control unit. Fortunately, Eros has never used it on me. But he’s also never allowed me to take it off.”

  Eros’s door crashed open, and his head poked out of the office. “Get in here, pirate girl. Now.” He disappeared a moment later.

  “Uh oh,” Frit said sympathetically.

  “Yeah, definitely uh oh. I’ll let you know how it goes.” Nara steeled herself and headed for Eros’s office.

  19

  CHOSE WISELY

  Nara straightened her posture before rapping at the door to Eros’s office. She knew Voria would be watching.

  Eros’s muffled voice came from within. “Enter.”

  She opened the door and slipped inside. Eros sprawled across a golden couch that floated a meter off the ground. A crystal goblet full of a dark red liquid floated within easy reach. He looked, as always, supremely relaxed.

  Voria was his opposite in every way. She stood ramrod straight, her hands clasped crisply behind her back. She eyed Eros with clear distaste, and Nara noted the emotion reflected in the eyes of her new mentor.