by Chris Fox
“You begin to see why I’m terrified—only there’s one part of her plan you are mistaken about. It’s not a fake emergency my father is being dispatched to deal with.” Voria’s scowl deepened. “She plans to use my father to detonate one of Shaya’s dead limbs. The second burl, which contains Caretaker Ducius’s manor. It will look like my father murdered a full Caretaker in a fit of rage.”
“And possibly start a war in the process,” Nara murmured as her mind flew through the implications. “If that limb detonates, it will crush the drifter city underneath.”
“Turning my father from a hero into a pariah, on the same day the Tender is assassinated. And, if her plan works, Ducius will die, too. We’d lose our entire leadership caste in an afternoon, and it would take years to recover.” Voria eyed them all soberly. “Even if we did recover, we’d be without a guardian for the first time in centuries. Can you think of a better time for the Krox to invade?”
“Or to invade Ternus,” Pickus pointed out. “If they know Shaya can’t help, they could focus on us. We wouldn’t last a year.”
“Nara, knowing our capabilities, how would you choose to address this issue?” Voria asked.
Nara blinked a few times. She licked her lips, and gathered her thoughts. “Which issue is paramount, saving the Tender, or saving your father?”
“That isn’t the choice.” The lines around Voria’s eyes tightened. “The choice is save the Tender, or save the dims. If my father can be saved, we will do so. But not at the expense of the drifters. Tensions are high enough as it is. This could cause a civil war, as you said. We cannot allow that.”
“Okay. The drifter city, or the Tender. So which is the priority?” Nara pressed. She didn’t want to be callous, but they were going to have to make an unenviable choice.
“Saving the drifters. If the Tender is killed, a new guardian can be declared,” Voria finally said. “The damage of losing a limb from Shaya herself will do catastrophic damage to our society.”
Nara considered that. “Then I’d send you and Ikadra to help Aurelia. Ikadra has several spells that could kill or hinder Nebiat, which means you could make the difference in a duel between her and Aurelia. I’d send the rest of us to stop Dirk. We have a full team, and should be able to overcome Dirk.”
“Aran?” Voria asked.
Nara glanced his way. His beard had thickened, but at some point Aran had found time to trim it. It fit him, and it matched the authoritative weight to his gaze. Somehow significant had changed, something to do with Neith, but Nara hadn’t pressed him about it.
“I’d agree with Nara’s assessment. We can’t ignore the threat to the Tender, but odds are good we’re going to see some serious combat if Dirk is involved. We’ll need to bring our A game, and that means we can’t afford to send anyone else with you to help Aurelia.” Aran leaned back in his chair. “Crewes?”
“Shit, man, I don’t care. Let the major decide. And yeah, I know the Confederacy thinks she’s a captain. That’s bullshit. She’s the godsdamned major. She earned that rank.” Crewes thumped the table for emphasis. He shook his head suddenly, giving a half-laugh. “This share my feelings crap about the mission is lame. We need to ditch it, and get back to a proper chain of command. You give orders, and we follow.”
“He’s not wrong,” Aran added. He looked to Nara, then Voria. “In order to even reach Shaya, we’ve got a Wyrm to kill. Let’s cover the plan one more time, then get to our stations.”
45
KHALAHK
Aran buckled himself into the command chair, then took a deep breath. The matrix rings rotated slowly around him, giving up their steady whum whum. He grounded himself in that bit of normalcy. There was so much to take in, so many disjointed memories. Neith hadn’t given him everything.
In fact, Neith hadn’t given him back much at all. His combat abilities, sure. All that training, every memory, had been returned. But his childhood? His parents? His favorite food? All absent. He needed time to process, but now wasn’t that time.
Aran compartmentalized his emotions. Duty first.
He nodded respectfully at the major. “I can bring the drive online any time, sir.”
“True Mage Nara, please open a Fissure.” Voria stood not far from the scry-screen with Ikadra cradled in one hand. The sapphire had dimmed, and the staff hadn’t spoken since they’d escaped Khalahk. “Lieutenant Aran, warm up the drive. Sergeant, what is that colorful phrase Corporal Kezia used back at Starn? The one when you killed the enforcer that nearly killed her.”
“Uh, blast the shit out of ’em, sir,” Crewes supplied.
“Yes, well, if the dragon appears…blast the shit out of ’em.” The major gave a half-smile.
Aran allowed himself to share it. The mood couldn’t have been more different than their first confrontation with the Wyrm. Then, they’d been in a crappy little frigate. Now? They had a full godswar-era spellship, one of only a few hundred in the entire sector. That ship was crewed by four talented mages, all of whom had learned to work well together.
Nara gracefully tapped sigils, and the familiar crack split the sky. Aran guided them smoothly through, into the smattering of asteroids around the edge of the ring. The Fissure snapped shut in their wake, and he flew deeper into the asteroid field.
“Steady yourselves,” Voria called, tapping her staff against the deck. “The strike will come soon.” Aran noted a glazed look in her eyes, and cocked his head as he studied her. She was utilizing an unfamiliar magic, something with bits of fire and dream in it. “Now!”
Aran responded instinctively, jerking the ship down into a steep dive. A blue-white lightning bolt shot through the space they’d occupied, obliterating an asteroid in a shower of rubble. His heart quickened as he twisted the ship around the largest chunk, shielding them temporarily.
Crewes grunted as waves of fire poured from his hands into the rings. He fired a third-level magma ball as the Wyrm came around the asteroid into view. Hunks of smoldering stone shot from all three cannons, peppering Khalahk’s scaly face with flaming rock. The dragon roared, squinting as a rock caught it in the eye.
Aran dove, taking the ship deeper into the asteroids. It was nimble and considerably smaller than the Hunter. The battleship was easily five hundred meters long; this thing was only forty meters from end to end, about twice the size of the spellfighter he’d recently piloted.
Khalakh tore through rocks, following them just as Kheftut had back at Marid. This time, though, they had a lot more firepower. Aran flipped the ship, angling all three spellcannons at the dragon.
“Fire!” Voria roared.
Aran tapped void, then fire, then void again. He poured the energy into the ship. Crewes added more fire. Voria added both fire and void. Finally, Nara completed the disintegrate with a substantial chunk of both fire and void.
The bolt shot from the central cannon, dissolving an asteroid as it shot toward Khalahk. The Wyrm twisted to avoid the spell, nearly dodging it entirely. Instead, the bolt caught a leathery section of his right wing, dissolving a huge swath of scales and flesh.
It would have hindered the Wyrm in an atmosphere, but meant nothing out here in the void.
“Nara,” Voria barked, “blink us.”
Nara tapped a flurry of sigils, and the ship winked out of existence. They reappeared a kilometer away, in a relatively empty patch between asteroids. Aran adjusted course, drifting slowly over an asteroid as he sought a visual on Khalahk.
“There he is,” Aran growled. “Major, permission to modify the plan.”
“Sell me on it, and do it fast, Lieutenant.” Voria kept her attention focused on the scry-screen. The Wyrm had spotted them, and had already started in their direction.
“I need Nara to make several illusions of us. I’ve seen her use that spell on Crewes back aboard the Hunter.” Aran willed the ship to drop below the asteroid, then flipped it around and dove deeper into the field. The scry-screen still showed the Wyrm in full pursuit. “We let the Wy
rm catch up to us in the densest patch of asteroids, and we engage. We’re unlikely to land a disintegrate, but if we use fire and void bolts, almost all of us can contribute shots.”
Nara perked up in her matrix, swinging the chair around to face him. “I think I see where you’re going with this. A bunch of illusions make passes at the dragon. It doesn’t know which ones are real, so it can’t dodge or counter them all.”
“Exactly. Some of the bolts will get through, and we can wear that thing down.” Aran turned to the major. “Sir?”
She nodded. “Do it.”
Nara’s fingers flew across the sigils again, moving with a grace and speed not even the major could match. She’d grown during her time on Shaya—but it was more than that. Aran didn’t know what Neith had done, but Nara had been enhanced in some way.
Six copies of the ship appeared, each zipping out in a different direction. Khalahk came over an asteroid near one of the ships, and belched a lightning bolt. It crackled through the space the illusion occupied, shattering it into mana shards.
“Light it up,” Aran roared. He took control of the central cannon, firing a flurry of level-two void bolts as he guided the ship into an attack run.
Nara fired from the second cannon, and Crewes from the third. Fire and void bolts streaked into the dragon, and the spells were mirrored five more times from the surviving illusions. The Wyrm pulled its wings up protectively, diving suddenly to avoid as many spells as it could.
Real bolts peppered its wounded wing, and a lucky void bolt carved a furrow just over the Wyrm’s eye. It bellowed silently, then raised a claw and began to sketch a spell.
“My turn, you scaly bastard.” Voria raised Ikadra, and a wave of power pulsed from her, followed by one from the staff. The energies sank into the deck, and the central cannon fired a counterspell far more quickly than the Hunter could have managed.
A bolt of pure white streaked into the sigils gathering around Khalahk’s claw. Those energies shattered, spraying mana shards into space. The dragon gave a frustrated roar, but Aran had already guided them around an asteroid and out of sight.
“Excellent piloting, Lieutenant,” Voria said. “Bring us around for another pass.”
Aran gave a grim smile as he brought the ship around. They came up under an asteroid, streaking toward the Wyrm. This time, the creature dove directly at them, ignoring the illusions.
“We’ve been detected.” A bolt of lightning slammed into the side of the ship, and it shuddered. “I can feel the damage. The wards blunted that, but we don’t want to take another one of those if we can avoid it.”
Crewes and Nara poured destructive energies into their respective cannons, and a stream of void and fire bolts drove Khalahk into cover behind a city-sized asteroid.
“Nara,” Aran asked, thinking aloud, “can you ready a blink?”
“What do you have in mind?” Her finger hovered over a void sigil.
“I’m going to take us to the side of the asteroid where Khalahk is hiding. You blink us around it, so we’re in range to fire, and we’re doing it from an unexpected angle.” Aran flew toward the asteroid he had in mind. “Switch to a disintegrate.”
“That will utilize a significant chunk of our resources,” Voria cautioned.
“Sure, but so will pass after pass of void bolts,” he countered. “Let’s end this, fast. If we continue the same tactic, the dragon will adjust to match. We need to keep it guessing.”
“Ready,” Nara called. “Just give me the word.”
Aran guided the ship toward the asteroid, coming around fast. He knew Khalahk was aware of them, likely preparing to breathe at the exact area where they’d appear.
“Now!” Aran roared.
Nara cast the blink, and the ship’s location shifted. They appeared on the exact opposite side of the asteroid, coming at the dragon from the rear instead of the front. Khalahk was already pivoting to face them, twisting in midair.
“Too late there, stain,” Crewes barked, with a laugh.
Aran poured as much void and fire as he could into his matrix, and the others added their power to the choir. All three cannons fired, and the bolts converged on the dragon’s chest. Scales, flesh, and bone dissolved into atoms.
The disintegrate punched out the other side, coring a hole through the dragon.
It twisted and thrashed several times, hot blood freezing into crystal droplets as they sprayed away from the Wyrm in a glittering scarlet fan.
The light left Khalahk’s eyes, and the Wyrm’s corpse began to drift.
Aran threw up a fist and roared a cheer. The rest of the crew took it up.
He grinned at the major. “Time to deal with Nebiat.”
46
INTO THE TREE
The Talon broke through the asteroid field, and into Shaya’s upper atmosphere. The re-entry didn’t trouble the ship, and Aran couldn’t even feel the friction. A single jewel glittered in the sky above the tree, the Tender’s palace catching the setting sun.
“Ikadra, can you get me from here to the palace?” Voria asked. The glazed look hadn’t faded from her eyes, and Aran wondered what it was exactly that she saw when she looked at reality.
“Of course. I can teleport us directly outside the palace, though the wards prevent me from entering the structure.” The staff pulsed with eagerness. “Shall I?”
“Not yet. Aran, you understand what you need to do?” The major looked at him, but Aran wasn’t really sure she saw him.
“Near enough. I need to find Dirk, and stop him from detonating the 2nd burl.”
“And how do you plan to do that?” Voria asked.
“I’m going to start with Erika. She knows Dirk, and might be up to speed on his whereabouts.” Aran waited for the inevitable protest, and wasn’t disappointed.
“You believe she’ll give you that information?” Voria cocked her head in confusion. “You remember she’s been bound, yes?”
Aran tapped a fire sigil as he guided the ship lower into the atmosphere. “Erika doesn’t know we know that. She could try misdirecting us, but if she’s following Nebiat’s orders I’m betting she can’t risk us going to help Aurelia.”
“So she’ll tell us where Dirk is, then ambush us when we show up,” Nara interjected.
“Theoretically,” Aran offered. It wasn’t the best plan, but when you were out of time, you had to improvise.
“It’s as good a plan as any.” Voria looked to each of them in turn, a proud smile growing. “There’s a very real chance some or all of us are about to die. If that happens… I’ve never served with a finer crew. ”
“At least we’ll die well.” Crewes gave a whoop. “Give Nebiat hells, Major. I still owe that bitch for Marid, so please bring her my very warmest regards.”
“I’ll send your best, Sergeant.” Voria walked to Nara’s matrix, and leaned close to the rings. “I’m leaving them in your care, True Mage. Bring them home safe, if you can.”
“I’ll do my best,” Nara offered. “That’s a lot better than it was back on Marid.”
“It will be enough,” Aran said. “And if it isn’t then we’ll make them damned sure they respect us on our way out.” He meant that, and it felt good. He was ready to die, if it came to it. Seeing Neith’s mind had crystalized things for him. This war was bigger than all of them.
“Luck to you all. Ikadra, take me to the palace.” Voria disappeared almost instantly, with an audible pop.
“Okay, guess that’s our cue.” Aran tapped a fire sigil, then a dream. He triggered a missive to Erika, waiting patiently for the spell to locate her. The edge of the scry-screen flared red, and her face appeared.
Aran didn’t recognize the room behind her; beyond the fact that it was shayawood, it had no distinguishing features. It could be anywhere, which was probably by design. There was nothing about Erika to suggest she was anything other than a friendly mentor, her smile as genuine as they came.
“I’m pleased to see that you survived the Umbral
Depths, but now isn’t a good time, Aran. What do you want?” she asked. Her demeanor was perfect.
“I’ve received a tip about Dirk,” he said, suddenly cautious. “I’m told he’s going to destroy the second burl, along with Ducius’s entire compound.” He mentioned nothing about Nebiat, or binding.
“Where did you hear that?” Erika eyed him intensely.
“Does it matter?” He countered.
“I suppose not,” she gave back smoothly. Too smoothly. Her first slip. “He’s made his move on the burl, and I’ve sent Ree to stop him. Ducius has been evacuated, along with his family. Ree’s got a full squadron of war mages. Dirk is good, but no one is that good. I know you’re close to Voria. You can reassure the captain we’ll do our utmost to spare her father’s life, but also make it clear we make no promises.”
“Of course. Thanks, Master Erika. I’ll be in touch.” Aran killed the spell, and the scry-screen returned to a view of Shaya’s trunk. They’d nearly reached the second burl.
“We ready to engage, sir?” Crewes asked.
“Not yet, I have one more missive to send.” Aran tapped fire and dream again, triggering another spell.
The edge of the screen turned red, and Kezia’s face filled the view. “Aran! You survived the Umbral Depths. I’m so glad to see you alive.” She turned from the screen, and yelled over her shoulder. “Hey, Bord. They’re back! Aran’s on the scry-screen.”
“Kezia, I need you to listen very carefully.” Aran licked his lips. “Look up, out your window. See that burl?”
“Yeah, keeps the sun off the little ones for most of the day. What of it?” Kezia asked, blinking wide blue eyes.
“Nebiat is here. She’s bound Voria’s father, and he’s trying to detonate it.”