by Jaye McKenna
“We won’t survive another hit,” Rhys said bluntly. “Surrender?”
“No.” Anja’s voice was strained. “The vote was to jump. We’re jumping. Is that…? Are they turning back?”
“Looks like.”
“They must have realized we mean to go through with it.”
“They got any sense, they don’t want to be caught in our jump vortex any more than we want them there,” Rhys said. “Five minutes to jump. Better trank now if we’re going to.”
“Jump in five minutes, Miko,” Anja said. “We’ll see you on the other side.”
“I’ll be waiting,” Miko told her, and hoped he would.
The next five minutes were perhaps the longest of Miko’s life. His sense of Anja and Rhys faded as the trank dragged their minds down into unconsciousness, leaving him utterly alone. His heartbeat sounded loud in his ears over the low thrumming of the drives. Miko squeezed his eyes shut and reminded himself to breathe.
When a slight shudder rippled through the ship’s frame and reality began to warp and twist, he pressed a hand to the cool green surface above him and sank his awareness down into the mythe.
He found himself standing before a glowing emerald pool surrounded by utter blackness. Miko stared into the pool, contemplating it. He had no idea what kind of pattern he’d need to take the Wanderlust to Hope, but he knew who would, and this deep in the mythe, he was certain she’d hear him if he called.
Whether she would help him remained to be seen.
He gathered his strength and sent a cry out into the mythe.
The darkness shimmered and swirled. Sinuous shapes of crystal and shadow emerged from the blackness to circle the pool, all claws, teeth, and diamond scales.
Dragons.
The air shivered and grew cold as they coalesced into human form. Three of them stood with Miko at the edge of the pool. Two he knew: Aio, whom he’d only ever seen in human form once before, appeared as an old woman with long, white hair and glittering violet eyes. Her skin was the same dark gold as Tarrin’s. Ashna, too, was there, towering over Miko and Aio. Like Aio, he had the dark gold skin of the Ajhani and the amethyst eyes of the most powerful mythe-weavers. Beside him stood a paler man, not quite as tall as Ashna but just as powerfully built. He had flowing golden hair and bright, silver-grey eyes, and wore a sword that glowed as brightly as any of the Ajhani artifacts Miko had seen.
“What have you brought me, Human Child?” Aio said, her voice an ancient wind echoing through the deepest, darkest spaces of his mind.
“My family,” Miko whispered. “I need to keep them safe. I need to bring them out of the Federation, to a place where no one will hurt them. But I don’t know the pattern to do it.”
“I have a pattern,” Aio said gravely. “One that will save your family and take you to a place of safety. Is that what you wish?”
“Yes,” Miko said.
Aio held out her hand to him, and Miko took it. “Then I will show you the pattern you need.”
“And I will help you weave it,” Ashna added.
The blond man came to stand behind Miko and placed his hands on Miko’s shoulders. “I’m Toryn,” he said quietly.
“Ashna’s other half,” Miko whispered.
“His better half,” Toryn corrected, ignoring Ashna’s snort. “I will give you the strength to push the pattern into the pool. Because Aio and Ashna have never really understood how much strength it takes for a human to walk in their world.”
Miko met Aio’s gaze and narrowed his eyes, letting his anger and frustration flow through his mythe-shadow. “You’ve been ignoring me for months… why are you helping me now?”
“Ashna wished to come to you when you called,” Aio said. “I forbade it.”
“Why?” Miko asked.
“Because the Balance is precarious,” Ashna told him, “and Aio feared we would lose it entirely if we interfered before you reached this point. You are the seed, and now it is time to close the circle.”
Supported by the dragons, Miko focused on the space above the pool. A pattern filled his mind, more complex than any he’d encountered before. It had colors that had no names, shapes that wrapped around themselves and turned inside out, and tendrils that reached out into the mythe and disappeared into the depths. Miko had no idea how he would weave something so impossible and intricate.
But if the people he loved were to survive, he had to try.
He began with the shapes and colors he knew, and worked his way out from there. Aio held the pattern in his mind for him so he could copy it. When he faltered, uncertain of a shape or a hue, Ashna was there to guide him, and when it felt like he’d been working for days, and his strength waned and his attention drifted, Toryn was there, lending his own strength so Miko could continue.
When it was finally finished, Miko felt drained and faded, as if there were nothing left of him but a wisp of shadow ghosting through the mythe. It was mostly Toryn’s strength that pushed the pattern into the pool. Miko had nothing left, and would have fallen if Toryn hadn’t been supporting him.
When the task was finished and he opened his eyes, Toryn was cradling him in his arms, and Aio and Ashna were smiling down at him.
“You have done well, Human Child,” Aio said.
“Thank you, Miko,” Ashna said in a tone that was far more humble than any Miko had ever heard him use before. “You have finished a task I have toiled at for many of your human lifetimes.”
“For that, we would reward you,” Aio said. “Ever since I sent you back to the human world, you have begged to live among us. Now that the Balance is restored, I can offer you that. Will you come with us? To swim with the dragons and dance in the mythe?”
Miko stared up at her, eyes filling with tears. “Before you tangled my thread with Tarrin’s, the answer would have been yes. It was all I ever wanted. I belonged here, not in the human world. But now… I can’t leave them. Tarrin. Cameron. Diri. Kyn. And Rafe… Even if I can’t touch my brother, he’s family. They’re all my family, and I love them.”
Aio nodded, her eyes shimmering. “Ashna said that would be your choice. I am pleased you have found your place in the human world. It is what I have always hoped for you.” She smiled down at him, and he sensed crystalline waterfalls, roses, ice, and a breath of vanilla tinged with regret. “A reward of a different sort, then. What was torn asunder shall be made whole. You have my thanks, most precious Human Child. And my love.” She bent and kissed his cheek, then moved aside for Ashna.
Ashna stared down at him with sad eyes. “You have done well, Miko.”
“It feels like you’re saying goodbye,” Miko whispered. “Will I ever see you again?”
“That, I cannot see,” Ashna said. “Your future lies before you, a story yet to be written. Make it the best story you can. One worthy of you.”
“I will.” Miko reached up and put his arms around Ashna’s neck. “I love you, Ashna.”
“And I love you, my brave one.” Ashna returned the hug and kissed his forehead.
Then Toryn bent to kiss his head and whispered in his ear, “Thank you, Miko. You will never truly understand what you’ve done for us, but believe me when I tell you that all you have suffered, all you have sacrificed, was worth it. Now, sleep, little one…”
A warm feeling of love and safety wrapped around him like a soft blanket.
Miko closed his eyes.
And dreamed of the dragons vanishing into the depths of the mythe.
* * *
Cam jerked awake. Trank drugs made some people groggy for hours, but Cam had never had a problem shaking off the effects. By the time he’d undone the safety restraints, his head was clear. On the bunk beside him, Draven, too, looked wide awake and was fumbling with his own straps.
“I’m heading to the bridge,” Cam said as he rolled off the bunk and onto his feet. “Join me?”
Draven nodded and followed him out. They reached the bridge just as the door slid open to rev
eal Anja with an unconscious Miko in her arms.
“What happened?” Cam asked, staring down at Miko’s pale, tear-stained face.
Anja gave him a stricken look. “He went through jump in the drive tube, in contact with the master drive crystal. I just crawled in there and pulled him out, but he hasn’t stirred. Can you get him to the infirmary? I have post-jump checks to run, and Rhys is still groggy from the trank.”
“I’ll take him,” Draven said. “You get back to the bridge.”
Draven took Miko’s limp body from Anja and held him close.
“Is he lost in the mythe?” Cam asked.
“I’m not sure,” Draven said. “If he is, I won’t be able to reach him.”
“Take him to Eleni,” Cam said. “She’ll know what to do. And let Tarrin know. If he’s lost, Tarrin can find him — he’s done it before. I’ll be along as soon as I’ve seen what I can do here.”
Draven hurried off down the corridor with Miko, and Cam followed Anja onto the bridge. “Where are we? Are we clear of Space Fleet?”
“We’re clear of the Aurora system, and there’s no sign of pursuit,” Anja said. “See if you can rouse Rhys enough to run a nav-check. I’d like to know where we ended up and whether or not we can expect company. I’ve got system checks to run, or I’d do it. Those bastards hit some of the sensor arrays, and I want to make sure there’s no other damage.”
“We were shot at?” Cam asked, pulse jumping.
“Aye, after you all tranked down,” Anja said. “Lucky for us, they didn’t take the jump drives offline. I think that’s what they were trying for.” She slid into the captain’s chair, hands moving over the control boards.
Cam went to the nav station, where Rhys was conscious but dazed.
“You all right, Rhys?” Cam put a hand on his shoulder.
“I don’t know.” Rhys stared up at him. “I… I dreamed.”
“Dreamed?”
“During jump. That’s not supposed to happen.”
“What did you dream?”
Rhys frowned. “I was… sitting right here. There was a man standing next to me… He looked like one of those Ajhani mythe-weavers, with the long black hair and the weird purple eyes. He was whispering numbers to me, and I was overwriting the coordinates for Hope with… I don’t know what. The numbers didn’t make any sense.” He lifted his hands to the boards. The screen flickered to life and Rhys’s frown deepened as he studied the data. “I don’t… this isn’t right.”
“We made a blind jump,” Cam said. “Anja warned us we could end up anywhere.”
“The chances of us reaching Hope — even with Miko’s help — were astronomically small, Rhys,” Anja said. “It isn’t your fault.”
“I know, but…” There was a long pause. “Navigation insists we’re in uncharted space. At the edge of an unknown star system.”
“You don’t sound too sure about that,” Anja said. “Is there a problem?”
“I… I don’t know. Let me see…” Rhys’s hands flew over the boards, fingers tapping and sliding as the display changed much faster than Cam could follow. “Did we take any damage to the comm arrays?”
“Negative,” Anja said. “Comm arrays are all functional, but we did lose a few sensors.”
“Yeah, I can see the sensor dropout, but even taking that into account, this looks too damn familiar… I’m not picking up a beacon, though.”
“Let me run a diagnostic.” There was a long silence before Anja said, “Comm arrays are all operational. If there’s a beacon, you should be receiving telemetry.”
“If there’s a beacon, we’re still in Federation space,” Cam muttered.
“Let’s see what the long-range scan can tell us.” Rhys swiped a finger over one of the screens and squinted at a display that was far too complex for Cam to make any sense of. “Where’s the fucking beacon?”
“Rhys, what are you thinking?” Anja asked.
“I’m thinking I know where we are.” Rhys’s hands continued moving over the boards. “I’m going to put something up on the main screen. You tell me if I’m crazy.”
Two star charts appeared, side by side. “The view on the left is what the navigation system is telling me,” Rhys said. “It’s not complete because Space Fleet shot out a few of our sensors, but there’s enough there to get a feel for it. The view on the right is the Aion system, same approach vector we’re on right now. What do you see?”
Anja shook her head as she stared at the screen. “Merge the images.” Rhys did, and Cam studied the chart, trying to see what Rhys and Anja were seeing. “No,” Anja said firmly. “They’re close, but they’re not identical. Anyway, if this is Aion, where’s the beacon?”
“Yeah. I know.” Rhys sounded grim. “You got any probes on this bucket?”
“Six,” Anja replied. “You want to launch one?”
“Yeah. I want to take a look at the fourth planet. Long-range scan suggests there’s a breathable atmosphere.”
“How long before you get anything from the probe?” Cam asked.
“A few hours to reach orbit and sample the atmosphere,” Anja said. “But we’ll start getting images in a half hour or so.”
“I’ll be back by then,” Cam said. “For now, I’m heading down to the infirmary to check on Miko.”
* * *
There were tears on Miko’s face, and Draven would have given a lot to know what had happened to make Miko cry. Had he been wrestling with his memories of the Mathilde? Or had touching the drive crystal hurt him in some way Draven couldn’t sense?
As he hurried down the corridor toward the infirmary, Draven tried not to think about the freighter’s limited medical facilities, and focused instead on the fact that Eleni was a damn good healer. She’d taken him safely through riptide withdrawal, and brought him back from the edge of death after a bullet had ripped through one of his lungs.
If anyone could help Miko, she could.
Eleni was already waiting for him in the ship’s infirmary. “What happened?” She gestured to the nearest treatment room. “He promised me he could handle exposure to jump space.”
“Anja said he crawled into the drive tube and spent the trip in contact with the master drive crystal. Is that… is that as dangerous as it sounds?” Draven lay Miko on the bed and brushed the long strands of pale hair back from his face.
“Touching the drive crystal? Are they insane? Nobody said a goddamn thing about—” Eleni snapped her mouth shut and gave him a stricken look as she slipped a sensor patch under Miko’s shirt and pressed it to his chest. “God only knows what he might have been exposed to,” she muttered as she stared intently at the monitors. With another curse, she reached for Miko’s wrist to check his pulse, as if she didn’t believe what the readouts were telling her. “His vital signs are good, at least,” she finally conceded.
“Will he be all right?”
“I’m not sure yet… give me a minute…” Her eyes unfocused and her hands hovered a scant centimeter above Miko’s chest. Slowly, she scanned Miko’s whole body, from his chest to his head and back, then down to his feet. When she finally drew back, her hands were trembling, but she didn’t look nearly so pale. “I don’t believe it. There’s nothing… no sign of radiation damage, no injury… nothing amiss.”
Draven let out the breath he’d been holding.
“In fact,” Eleni continued, “I can’t see any reason for him to be unconscious.” She glanced at Draven. “Can you go find Tarrin? This looks a lot like the last time he went too deep into his mythe and got himself stuck there. Tarrin called it mythe-shock, and if that’s what’s wrong, we’re going to need his help.”
Glad to have something useful to do, Draven turned to leave. Before he reached the door, it opened and Damon entered, followed closely by Tarrin. Damon looked a little groggy, as if he was still struggling to shake off the trank, but Tarrin was wide awake, and moved to Miko’s side immediately. He laid a hand across Miko’s forehead and focused inward for a mom
ent, then relaxed. Draven sensed profound relief rippling through his mythe-shadow.
“Mythe-shock, but much milder than I expected,” Tarrin said. “He’s close to the surface. He should wake within the hour, though he’ll be cold and tired for a day or so. The best thing we can do for him is to keep him warm and hydrated.”
“All right, clear out of here and let me work, people,” Eleni said. “I’ll get an IV started, run a few tests, and then you can come and sit with him if you want. Damon, go do the rounds, make sure no one needs a shot of neutralizer after trank. Do you know what to look for?”
“Nausea, dizziness, vomiting, headache, and worst case, seizures.” Damon rattled off the list as if he’d been drilled on it mercilessly. “I’m on it.”
Draven and Tarrin followed him out in time to see Rafe hurrying down the hall toward them, tears streaming from his eyes. The flinch was almost automatic, and it took Draven a few moments to realize there was no reason for it. The soul-deep sense of loss bleeding out into the mythe that had always accompanied Rafe was gone. Instead of leaking oily blackness, Rafe’s mythe-shadow was clear and bright, flaring with hope.
“Miko,” Rafe panted, skidding to a stop in the middle of the corridor. “I need to—”
“Hold on,” Tarrin said, stepping in front of the door. “Eleni’s with him. He’s fine, he just needs some rest. What’s wrong, Rafe? What’s happened? You feel different.”
Tears glittered on Rafe’s cheeks. “I can feel him,” he said in a hoarse, trembling voice. “The link is… it’s like it was before he got ripped away from me. Please, I need to see him.”
Tarrin frowned and glanced at Draven.
“I sense it, too,” Draven said. “His mythe-shadow was torn and bleeding, but now it feels whole. And there’s something else… something connecting him to Miko.”
“I thought I was imagining it,” Tarrin said, turning back to Rafe. “When did this happen?”
“I don’t… during jump? It wasn’t there before I tranked down.” Rafe looked shaken, and kept staring toward the door of Miko’s room. “I can feel him again.”