The investigator in me wanted to jump out and ask: why? But experience had taught me that it would be a fruitless endeavor. “Sir, if I meet up with Narcion, or any of his traveling companions, may I question them?”
“So long as no one knows who you are, what you are doing or why, ask all the questions you need to,” he said.
“How do we know the wraiths are not some kind of trick on their part?” I asked.
“We don’t know, but I do not think so. First of all, there is no motive. Narcion is rich and seems to have everything he could want. Secondly, in their last fight several of our men fought by their side. Wraiths that were immune to their blasters were killed with makeshift spears that the Zalionian made from the railings in the room. They took part of that railing with them and tried to use it later, and it was just as useless as their blasters. Everything we have attempted indicates that the wraiths pose a very real threat. Narcion must know some secret that makes it possible to fight them. Whatever that secret is, we need to know it; and that is what I want you to find out.”
That seemed very odd. It was obvious the commander trusted this Narcion, but it seemed to me suspiciously convenient that he was the only one that could help us. “Spells do work on them?”
“Yes,” he started but he was interrupted by a call. “Go ahead,” he said into the intercom.
“Sir, we have lost contact with the magi. We must assume they have failed,” said the voice at the other end.
“Understood. Command out,” he replied, and then said to me, “You might want to stay for this.”
“Certainly, sir,” I said.
He pressed a button, and after a few minutes Narcion’s face appeared on the screen. “Hello, Commander.”
“Hi, Narcion. It seems we have another station for you,” he said. “Petra 27 has fallen.”
“Already? Are you calling me earlier in the proceedings, or are they happening more often?” asked Narcion.
“I think a little of both,” said the commander, rattling off the details about the station.
“We will take care of it, but I don’t like the fact that they are happening more frequently. Have you found any pattern yet to their attacks?” asked Narcion.
“No, other than that so far they have confined their activities to perimeter stations. How far are you from the station?” asked the commander.
“We can be there in two days,” said Narcion.
“Excellent. I look forward to your report,” he said and wrapped up the call. “Well, what do you think?”
“Odd, sir. He seemed genuinely surprised at your call, and even concerned,” I said.
“Right. As I said, I don’t think he is behind the attacks and I feel we can trust him, but he is being stingy with that critical information,” he said.
“Have you ever asked him outright to train some of our men?” I asked.
“Yes, but so far he has claimed that he can’t,” he said.
“But he has trained that Zalionian,” I said.
“Right, so it can be done,” he said.
I stood up. “I will start with a complete review of what we know so far, and see where that leads.”
“Good. Dismissed,” he said.
As I left the office I kept running the two fights the commander had shown me over and over in my head. In the one, fighting squads of highly-trained and heavily-armed men were quickly overpowered and defeated. In the other, two men with knives defeated the same enemy.
When I reached my office I started skimming the records that I had been given. The commander had said that he thought the Zalionian was an apprentice. If so, then it might be more fruitful to investigate him, as he was more likely to make mistakes. I started a search for any unusual activity involving a Zalionian near their last known location. It would take a while, but my instincts told me it would be worth it.
Chapter Sixteen
I was up on the bridge at watch when Narcion finally woke from his hibernation. He looked a bit older than when I had seen him last, but refreshed. I did not know if he actually hibernated or not, only that he would lock himself in his quarters and his life signs would no longer register. I guessed that this was because he was hibernating and his vital signs were too low to read. I never dared interrupt him during it, nor did I feel it was right to ask.
“Hello, Zah’rak. I trust all went well on the station?” he said.
“No, actually it did not,” I replied and told him about the incident with the protection ring on the station, and how we had made a quick getaway.
“I see,” he said and then worked on his terminal for some time. “Ah, yes, here is the report. It seems that you are wanted for questioning in connection with the deaths of five unknown humans.”
“Yes. Sorry about that; I tried to get away without fighting, but they kept pressing their attack,” I said.
“Next time a store does not feel safe, stay out of it. You must learn to trust your instincts,” he said.
“I wanted to, but … ” I started to say, but was cut off by the computer signaling that a message was coming in. Narcion took the call, and it turned out be his government contact with a new job.
Once that was wrapped up he turned to me and said, “Anything else?”
“Yes, one more thing, but it does not involve any deaths,” I said.
“What happened?” he asked.
I told him about the man with the yellow eyes and finished with, “He told me to ask you how old you are. That seems like a really odd thing to suggest.”
Narcion was quiet for a while, and finally he said, “Time does move forward regardless of what we will, doesn’t it?”
“I guess so, but who is this guy?” I asked.
“A ghost from my past. I don’t know that I am ready for this ghost,” said Narcion.
“But why does he want me to ask you about your age?” I asked.
“Because it would force a conversation about my past which I am not yet ready to have. This person is hoping that you will ask me, and that if I don’t answer it will drive a wedge between us.”
“Why does he want to do that?” I asked.
“I was mixed up in some things a very long time ago, things that I should never have been involved with,” he said.
“What?” I asked.
“We lost someone dear to us,” he said with a sigh. “I suppose I am at least partly to blame, but I can’t undo a past mistake. Now, how are Felix and Crivreen doing? Do you have any indication of their plans?”
I decided to let him change the subject. This topic was obviously a sensitive one for him, and I felt it best that he should tell me in his own time. “My guess is that they are down in the weight room, as usual. I don’t know why they do it, though.”
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“Well, they are magi and have no physical combat skills that I know of. Why hit the weights, then?” I asked.
“They were in prison together for a while. There is not much to do there, so many take up weightlifting to pass the time. By now it is probably just habit,” he said.
“Interesting. Well, let’s go and see them,” I said and started to leave.
“Wait; I want to hear your opinion first. What do you think their plans are?”
I thought about that for a bit and then said, “Crivreen wants to stay with us. He feels that he has no place to go and wants to fit in somewhere. Felix seems to have taken a liking to Crivreen and feels bound to take care of him. So I think they will both stay with us, but only because Crivreen wants to.”
He smiled broadly. “You are really coming along. Now let’s go see if you are right.”
We found them in the cargo bay practicing their spells. Crivreen would cast his bolt and Felix would try to stop it with his shields. It did not seem to be going too well when we came in.
“Maybe we need to rethink this,” said Crivreen as one of his lightning bolts knocked Felix down hard. Smo
ke slowly wafted up from Felix’s chest, carrying the scent of burnt flesh, as he lay there groaning.
Obviously hurt by the hit, Felix pulled himself up and then noticed us. “Sorry, I hope we did not disturb you.” He was holding his chest and trying to regain his breath.
“No, you did not. Have you two thought any more about my offer?” asked Narcion.
“Yes, we have discussed it extensively,” replied Felix.
“I want to help you,” interrupted Crivreen. “I think your cause is a good one, and I’d like to be part of it.”
Felix sighed and said, “Yeah, I’d like to take you up on your offer to hire us.”
“Great! Come with me,” said Narcion as he walked over to that crate he had brought back with him from his last trip. He opened it and pulled out human-sized gear. “Take this armor and these weapons. They will not help you much against the wraiths, but are extremely effective against more mundane targets. That will allow you to save your power for the wraiths.”
I saw Felix’s eyes go wide when he saw the equipment. “This must have set you back a fortune!”
“I am glad you approve. This equipment could be the only thing between you and death, so only the very best will do,” said Narcion.
After Crivreen and Felix left to change into their new armor, Narcion turned to me and said, “You predicted their decisions correctly.”
“How, though?” I asked.
“You are learning to read people and events around you. I suspected exactly the same thing you did, and that is why I bought this equipment. It is hard to point to any one thing that tells you what a person is thinking, but as you get better you will find it almost second-nature.”
I thought about this for a while, and wondered why he seemed to know so much about what I could do. What piece of information did he have that gave him such great insight? There was so much I still wanted to ask him, but before I could get a chance to continue the conversation the computer signaled him about an incoming transmission.
“Narcion, we just lost contact with the station,” said the voice of his government contact.
“What do you mean?” asked Narcion.
“The station’s computers normally maintain a constant connection back to our network, and it has dropped off completely. We are receiving nothing from the station at all now,” he said.
“Do you have any other ships in the area?” asked Narcion.
“No, you are the closest craft,” he said.
“Okay. We will report what we find on arrival. Narcion out,” said Narcion.
“That does not sound good,” I said.
“It is not,” replied Narcion.
Just then Felix and Crivreen came in and Felix said, “I don’t know how you did it, but you managed to get the right sizes for both of us.”
“Not as hard as you might think,” said Narcion. “Now, we will be jumping soon and then I will have to give you a crash course in fighting wraiths. You will have two days to become experts; your lives will depend upon it.”
“We are quick studies and we have some experience already,” said Felix.
“Zah’rak, you might want to sit in on these lessons, as they could be a good refresher course for you,” said Narcion.
“Thanks for the offer, but I have a special project I am working on right now. I will pass, if that is okay with you,” I said.
Narcion looked at me strangely and seemed about to say something, but then he changed his mind and left. On his way out he said, “Very well, I will lay in our course and we can get started with our various plans.”
“Zah’rak, what are you working on?” asked Crivreen.
“Nothing much. Listen, he will probably push you very hard in training. Just do your best and you will be fine. You have a lot less to learn than I did, so that gives you an advantage,” I said. I did not know if my idea would work, and it seemed a bit silly, so I was not ready to talk about it yet. If it worked, I would tell them; otherwise, they did not need to know.
“Yeah, but you have some natural ability that allows you to hurt them,” said Crivreen.
“So do you, and your bolts are more deadly than my claws,” I said.
“But a whole lot slower,” said Crivreen.
“Hey, you’re not having second thoughts, are you?” I asked.
“No, I suppose I’m just getting nervous,” he said.
I wanted to tell him there was nothing to worry about, but that would have been a lie. His friend had just died on the last mission, and on the one before that I took a wound that could have killed me. It was a very dangerous path that we were on. “Look, you’ll be great. Just listen to Narcion, and he will teach you what you need to do.”
“Yeah, remember you’re the guy who throws around lightning bolts for fun,” said Felix as he smacked him on the back. If Crivreen made any response, it was lost as we entered jump space.
Chapter Seventeen
Over the next two days, Narcion spent every waking hour drilling Felix and Crivreen on everything they needed to know about wraiths. He could be a hard teacher when he needed to be, and it seemed he really needed to be. They had made plenty of bad guesses while hiding from the wraiths on the previous station, and they needed to unlearn them.
While they did that, I worked hard on my special project. I spent my meal times and times at watch on the bridge studying all that I could, and the rest of my waking hours I spent locked in my quarters working on it. My fingers were starting to ache badly as I pushed them harder than I ever had before. A thousand times over I wanted to give up, but I could not.
There was a power that flowed through my fingers while I worked. I could not accurately describe the sensation, but it was a pleasurable one. It felt really good to work on this project, and that feeling kept me going despite how much it drained me. It was addictive and it drew me to my work, calling me whenever I stepped away. I felt I had a purpose, a function, even a skill that could help Narcion.
I was completely consumed by the project. I had seen it in a dream and believed it would work. I missed several meals, but the others were so busy with their lessons that they did not miss me. There was a passion in my bones that drove me on, so much so that once we even entered jump space while I was in the middle of a step and I barely noticed it.
Eventually Narcion came knocking on my door, and when I told him to come in he said, “After the next jump we will be within range of the station. I will need you on the bridge for that.”
He looked around the room. I was sitting on the floor surrounded by small scraps of leather and thread. Next to me, hanging on the wall, were several datapads each opened to a picture showing a different part of a pattern. In my lap, all that could be seen was a bundle of leather with which I was working.
“What have you been up to?” he asked.
I tentatively held up what I had been working on: a full leather tunic with long sleeves and a high neck. It looked a bit like patchwork to me, and I was worried that he might laugh; but to my surprise, he gasped and said, “May I?” while reaching out.
“Sure,” I said and handed him the tunic.
He sat down and worked it with his hands and asked, “Where did you find the materials?”
“That station we just came from,” I said.
“And the tools?” he asked.
“Oh, I didn’t think to buy any. I just used what I could find in the maintenance bay,” I said and gestured to a pile of tools I was using.
“Remarkable, simply remarkable,” was all he said.
That comment of his touched me without my knowing why. All I knew was that I was very glad that he liked it. “Thanks.”
“How did you learn to make this?” he asked.
“As a slave I had to make my own clothes, so I knew the basics. I just had to find a pattern and some information about working with real leather like this, which your ship’s library had in abundance. I had just finished this tunic and
was getting ready to move on to the leggings when you came in.”
“Well, don’t just sit there, try it on!” he said.
“Sure,” I said and started to remove my armor.
“No, I think you should put this on over your armor,” he said.
“Oh, okay,” was all I could manage. I had intended it to be worn under the armor, but I did as he instructed.
As I slipped it over my head a remarkable thing happened: the tunic stretched to fit perfectly over my armor. Once it was completely in place it glowed a soft green and seemed to melt into the armor. When the light faded, my armor looked completely different. Instead of being bland grey it was now a deep, dark green with lines of green light flowing through, giving it the appearance of veins. These faded away after a bit, and once they faded the armor had a green marbled look to it. In addition to the color change, it was lighter and fit me better.
“What happened?” I asked.
“Zah’rak, my brother, you have just made the first enchanted armor this realm has seen in ten thousand years!”
“But how?” I asked.
“Crivreen casts lightning bolts, Felix throws fire, and you enchant objects. Did you make any more than the tunic? Your legs, hands, and head will be unprotected, as you only enchanted your upper body piece.”
“Yes, I made a headpiece as my first run at it, since it was simpler.” I picked up the leather hood I had made. “I intended to attach it to the tunic.” With the tunic gone, I was unsure what to do with the hood.
“Put your helmet on and then put that hood on over it,” he said.
When I did that I felt my helmet get lighter and the fit of the helmet change slightly. When I took it off and looked at it, it was the same deep, dark green that my armor now was. My gloves, pants, and boots no longer matched my upper body in appearance.
“You might well be the first enchanter to be born in ten thousand years. You’re at least the first that I have come across or even heard of. Once this mission is over, I would like you to finish your armor and make sets for the rest of us. We will get you some proper tools, of course,” he said. “Do you have enough leather?”
The Sac'a'rith Page 12