War Mage: The Magitech Chronicles Book 4

by Chris Fox

  Not the shimmer of deeper heat, but…was that water magic? There was a ripple, and then the spell exploded outward in a spectacular misfire. Ice crystals and steam shot out in all directions, while a small ball of magma impacted anemically a few meters from Crewes.

  “Shut your face, Bord. I don’t want to hear it,” Crewes roared before the shorter tech mage had even said anything. The sergeant’s voice was tinged with embarrassment. “I was trying to combine water and fire, but uh…mostly got steam. Guess I’ll have to stick with tried and true.” Crewes lobbed a much more familiar pulsing ball of magma that detonated directly above the Wyrm’s wings. “Why don’t we start by limiting your mobility, scaly?”

  Bord clung to Kezia’s back in what appeared to be a planned version of the maneuver they’d done back on Marid. Kez sprinted forward, and Bord raised both hands. A white latticework of sigils burst outward into a protective ward, just in time to shield several wounded war mages from the Wyrm’s frantic tantrum.

  Ree sprinted forward, and the Wyrm’s massive head swung as it tracked her. It sucked in a quick breath and breathed a cone of dark, purple death. Nara recognized the void energy, but had never seen a Wyrm breathe anything like that.

  The energies devoured Ree’s golden aura, then continued on to her spellarmor. Thankfully, she’d donned her helmet, as Nara had no wish to see what that stuff would do to flesh. When the energy passed, Ree lay in a smoking heap, her golden armor now battered and wrecked. But at least she was moving.

  Aran hadn’t been idle. Nara watched as he glided silently behind the Wyrm. He raised his spellblade high, and the weapon looked considerably different than it had moments before. The blade was fatter toward the end, and curved now. It had become more of a chopping weapon, and less of a piercing.

  Narlifex burst into purplish flames, and sliced into the dragon’s spine where the neck met the main body. The weapon sank deep, and the Wyrm bellowed its agony. The roar knocked Nara back a step, and a high pitched ringing drowned out everything else.

  The Wyrm began to ripple, then its body rapidly shrank. When the transformation was complete, an unconscious man lay on the deck, with a pair of axes lying next to him. Aran landed a few meters from the body with his blade held defensively before him.

  “Nara,” he called in a strong voice. “Can you bind this thing into human form? He looks a lot more manageable like this.”

  Nara deposited her rifle back in the void pocket, then withdrew her staff. “I can keep him slumbering, at least until Voria arrives.”

  She raised her index finger and sketched a binding, then flung it at the unconscious Wyrm. It settled over him, an invisible net that subtly reinforced his natural slumber, keeping him confined to a deep sleep. She hoped anyway. Who knew if it would hold him?

  The crisis was over. Her problems came flooding back.

  Twice in that fight she’d done something uncharacteristic, and both times she could trace it back to one of her new memories. She was changing. Rapidly. She knew about the spell in her head now, too, and could apparently squeeze memories from it like a sponge. What kind of price did that carry though? Who was she becoming?

  Aran strode up to her with a friendly grin. “Nice work. I didn’t recognize the spell you used to weaken it. Was that new? Definitely a good time to unveil it.”

  “No, it wasn’t new,” she snapped. The fury in her own tone shocked her, but it shocked Aran even more. His eyes widened, then his expression shifted to carefully neutral.

  He walked past her without another word.

  3

  Warnings Unheeded

  Voria held her breath as Ikadra carried her through the Shayan sky, toward the pristine battleship. The vessel had been constructed entirely of hardened redwood drawn from the base of the tree itself, and more closely resembled a naval vessel from ancient Terra than it did a Ternus ship of the line.

  Her hair floated up around her face as they passed through the membrane, and she tingled slightly as she entered the breathable atmosphere. That hair had gotten longer—past her shoulders now. Not because she liked it long, but because the idea of sparing time for a haircut seemed ludicrous in the face of what they were dealing with.

  She focused on the battleship, which she hadn’t seen since the fall of Starn. The Arcanaca had been the linchpin of their defense, and had suffered heavy damage. All that was gone now, and she looked as ready for combat as ever. Not that you could tell by looking at her. The early Shayan enchanters had opted to hide her weaponry. The spellcannon was built along the keel of the ship, and would discharge spells from the carved maidenhead meant to represent Shaya.

  “Listen, I don’t want to sound judge-y,” Ikadra pulsed, “but I think that statue is kind of phallic. Like maybe a little.”

  Voria suppressed a smile. Nara had removed Ikadra’s limitations around speaking, and she’d yet to replace them. She hadn’t decided if she wanted to just now. Much to her surprise, Ikadra was becoming a real friend, and his unfailing enthusiasm had helped her through some dark days.

  “Take us past the phallic statue, to the third deck. Land in plain sight of the war mages, so we aren’t mistaken for attackers,” she instructed.

  “Aren’t we expected?” Ikadra asked, though he did fly them closer, in plain view of the defenders lining the third level. The armored war mages saw her, and began to deploy into a defensive pattern.

  “We are, but Eros has become increasingly paranoid of late. He sees binders everywhere, and fears every visitor, or so I’ve been told.” Voria pursed her lips as they made the final approach. The war mages were alert, but while their spellblades were within easy reach, none of them drew.

  She thought she recognized their leader, though it was difficult to tell with them all encased in their golden Mark IX spellarmor. The leader was indistinguishable from the rest, save for a scarlet patch on the shoulder and a slightly more regal bearing.

  The figure inclined its head as Voria landed. “I’m glad to see you survived Virkon, Major. I’ve heard tales of your…exploits.” Voria recognized the clipped tone immediately, a feminine voice not at all unlike her own.

  It was so odd, but Voria considered this woman a friend despite not even knowing her name. They’d only ever spoken when she’d been visiting a Tender.

  “How is he today?” She inclined her head respectfully as she approached.

  “How is he ever?” The resignation weighed down the words. The figure shook her head. “His paranoia grows worse. He just chased off two Caretakers, and this time he used a spell to do it. I worry.”

  Voria gave a quick nod. “Thank you.” It wasn’t really any new information, but it made her feel like she had an ally here.

  The figure nodded again as she passed, and Voria continued through an impractically vaulted arch inside the vessel. Here it began to resemble a more traditional warship, with narrow corridors and artful bulkheads that could be sealed in the event of decompression.

  The ancient Shayans had done everything possible to disguise this ship’s true purpose, and it underscored everything wrong with their society. They found war distasteful, and if it needed to be waged, they felt it needed to be done artfully. Screw art. War wasn’t pretty, whatever they thought.

  She made her way deeper into the vessel, but instead of guards, she passed golden mirrors along the wall every ten meters. She could feel their immense strength, and tensed as she passed the first one. It showed her reflection, staring a challenge back at her.

  The woman in the mirror frowned, and raised a copy of Ikadra as if ready to cast. Each woman in each mirror watched her progress, and she realized they could likely be animated to attack if she didn’t pass whatever test Eros had baked into them. She wasn’t familiar with the spell, but the level of power dwarfed what she could harness.

  Apparently Eros’s paranoia wasn’t the only change. The man had grown in strength as well, which was good. He’d likely need every bit of it in the near future. It offered his one advantage, rea
lly. Aurelia had been a war mage before she was elevated. Eros was a true mage, and if he bent his considerable intellect toward mastering magic he’d be capable of incredible feats in just a few short years.

  She reached another vaulted archway and entered the Arcanaca’s bridge. The ceiling was a layered illusion, and currently displayed the sky above as if the ship were open to space. The night sky was breathtaking, and also a little terrifying. Not because of the vacuum, but because Voria felt that a Wyrm could streak down at any moment, and that they’d have no protection from its breath weapon.

  “I’ve given you everything you asked for,” Eros snapped. Voria’s gaze fell to the corner of the room, in the shadows near one of the slowly spinning spell matrices. “You’re here to ask for more, aren’t you? What do you want, Voria?”

  “To ask your advice,” Voria countered. She tightened her grip around Ikadra, who’d remained respectfully silent since they’d arrived. He seemed more cognizant of social situations since she’d gotten him back from Nara. Perhaps the girl had had a talk with him. “I’m grateful for the life mages you’ve loaned us. The first several teams have already arrived, and I’m hopeful they’ll complete their work before we need to deploy.”

  “Deploy?” Eros’s eyes narrowed and he stepped from the shadows. “I take it that you haven’t considered my words at all then. You still plan to take the vessel from Shaya, where it belongs. She is meant to protect our goddess, not to prosecute your war. You’ve come back to utilize our resources, only to deny us aid when we most need it.”

  He blazed with an inner strength, a potent force that hovered just outside her vision. She couldn’t see the power, but she sensed his divinity. He was much, much stronger than when they’d last spoken.

  “It’s interesting that you accuse me of not listening when you so clearly haven’t heeded my words.” Anger bubbled up and she made no move to hide it. Voria’s free hand shot up and she stabbed an accusing finger at Eros. “You are not a god, Eros. You do not know all, or see all. The godsight you fumble with right now? I’ve been blessed with the same ability, but unlike you, I’ve had time to practice it. Krox is coming. Not the Wyrms we’ve faced so far, but their resurrected father, in all his terrible glory. The hammer will fall soon, and when it does, I intend to be there to deflect the blow. I don’t know Nebiat’s endgame, but we’re approaching it. Why else do you think Virkonna built this vessel? It has a purpose, Eros, and while I admit I don’t know what it is, I’ll hazard a guess that it is not to sit in dry dock on Shaya while the Krox dismember the entire sector.”

  Eros gave an irritated wave and a goblet of lifewine floated into his hand. He did not offer her one, though she wouldn’t have accepted in any case.

  “I’ve warned you time and again.” His voice had fallen to a near whisper. “Something is coming for Shaya. I can feel her fear. Her dread seeps into my mind when I sleep.” His haunted eyes snapped up to her. “If that ship isn’t here to defend her when it comes, then our whole world will be extinguished. What price for the entire sector to preserve our mother, Voria? Our goddess could live again, and that ship could help. I can feel its strength. Give me time to master it. Give me that staff, and I might be able to resurrect Her. I’m certain of it. We won’t need to fight alone. Shaya could crush Nebiat, or do you think her, or her father, could stand against the full might of a true goddess?”

  The feverish sheen to his eyes terrified her. She recognized it, that ability to perceive multiple possibilities at once. Yet where she’d been given the ability in a controlled setting by a living goddess, poor Eros had had the ability thrust on him with no preparation. And his mind did not appear to be handling it well.

  Could she reach him? She had to try. “It’s possible the ship could somehow aid in Shaya’s resurrection, but even you must admit that you can’t be certain without a great deal of study. And while you are studying, the war is worsening. The Krox are coming, slowly crushing all resistance.” She gave a sympathetic sigh. “I’ll remind you that I am the vessel’s captain, Eros. Not you. I will go where the battle is. If the Krox come for Shaya, I will be here to oppose them, but if they strike elsewhere, then I will move to counter them.”

  “Uhhh, Voria?” Ikadra’s sapphire pulsed. “I’m really sorry to interrupt, but you aren’t going to like this. I’m detecting magical combat on the Spellship. A powerful Void Wyrm is loose in the hold.”

  Eros raised an eyebrow and gave a triumphant smile. “Yes, I can see you have things…well in hand, Captain.” The last word bled sarcasm like a hull breach leaking oxygen.

  Voria flushed. “Please excuse me, Tender.” She gave a stiff bow, and then strode from the room.

  4

  Interrogation

  By the time Voria arrived on the Spellship, the intruder had been moved into the Wyrm Hunter’s brig. Striding into the claustrophobic row of cells reminded her of her first meeting with Aran, just after she’d retrieved him and Nara from the Skull of Xal. She hadn’t been down here since.

  Aran stood outside the only occupied cell. His hand rested on the hilt of his spellblade, which was considerably larger than the last time Voria had seen it. It wasn’t the only change, however. Aran’s entire demeanor was different. He stood with quiet confidence, exuding the deadly certainty of a master swordsman.

  “What happened?” She moved to stand next to the cell, and inspected the man sitting on the cell’s only bench. He looked human enough, with thick, dark hair spilling down the middle of his back. He wore scarlet armor so dark it could be mistaken for black. He was ruggedly handsome, though the cold, hellish light in his eyes ruined that image. “And why is he still wearing the armor?”

  “Because it’s bound to him.” Aran inclined his head respectfully, but didn’t salute. He hadn’t since they’d left Virkon, and she didn’t have the heart to oppose such a minor insubordination. “He’s a Void Wyrm, at least several centuries old. I think he was sneaking onto the Talon to get access to Rhea, possibly to free her. I haven’t asked him any questions, as I assumed you’d want to be present for the interrogation.”

  She nodded briskly. “You assumed correctly.” She faced the man—or Wyrm, she supposed—and noted the immediate differences from the Wyrms she’d seen on Virkon. They failed utterly to mimic a human, especially hair. The only exception she’d seen was Nebiat. Yet this man was utterly indistinguishable from a normal human, just as Nebiat managed. Even the eyes were perfect, save for the glow.

  “What is your name?” she demanded.

  The man slowly raised his gaze until it met hers. The area where the pupil should be wasn’t black. Each eye glowed with brilliant intensity, and the color was unmistakable. The deep purple of void magic, the antithesis of life.

  “I am Kheross.” He cocked his head, then rose smoothly to his feet. He towered over her, and even over Aran. He leaned in to inspect her with those hellish eyes. “You are godmarked. Many times over.”

  “We are not here to speak about me.” Voria leaned closer to the bars, and Kheross did the same. Only a few millimeters separated them. She could feel the cold radiating from his eyes. “Why were you on this ship? How did you get here? And what were you trying to do to Rhea?”

  Kheross turned from the bars and moved to sit on the bench. He rested his hands in his lap, and stared listlessly at the cell floor. “This ship was once my charge. I, and the other Outriders, were tasked with keeping it safe. We were told that the day would arrive when the vessel came, sent by Virkonna herself.” Kheross looked up then, and his gaze locked on Aran. “When Nefarius attacked our world, we realized she was draining all magic, siphoning all power to grow stronger. Every Wyrm was a target. I realized that the only way any of us would survive was by hiding, but I knew she would see through any disguise. I enacted a ritual to bind six of my strongest children. Each was mind shaped into believing themselves to be human. Each thought themselves an Outrider, and believed me to be the same. When Nefarius came, we were left behind, while every othe
r Wyrm was devoured.”

  Kheross shuddered, then closed those awful eyes. He kept them closed as he spoke again, his voice thick with memory. “At first, I believed it was because we had succeeded. Very quickly it became apparent that we hadn’t been missed. Nefarius simply had a different plan for us. She left a bit of her blood on our world, and over time that blood slowly absorbed all life.”

  He licked his lips and opened his eyes. His gaze was haunted now. “It began as a corruption. Your temper would flare for no reason. Then, dark thoughts crept into your mind. All of us were affected, but we had a life mage and were able to cleanse ourselves. For a time. But the blood is insidious, and it can never really be eradicated. It always returned. Years became decades, and nearly a century after we began our vigil, the first of my children fell to the shadow. He dragged another away, and the pair returned for a third. One by one, they were corrupted, until I was forced to kill them all. All save Rhea.

  “Even now, I can hear the whispers.” He leaned forward on the bench and rested his face in his hands. His voice dropped to a near whisper. “I just want it to stop. I’ve been fighting so long, and I just want to rest.”

  Voria sketched a single void sigil and the energy field sprang up around the cell, isolating it. The creature couldn’t hear them now, but it could still read lips. She turned away from the bars to hide her face.

  “What do you think?” She didn’t call him Lieutenant. Somehow that no longer felt appropriate. He might still wear the uniform, but she doubted he would for much longer.

  Aran looked up at her with a start, his eyes mirroring her own horror. “He seems to be on the level, but this story could be designed to win sympathy. I don’t trust him, not after seeing what he could do. He’s dangerous. Maybe the most dangerous thing I’ve ever fought. I’ve been fixed on Krox, and I know he’s a threat, but I’m realizing now that I can’t afford to ignore everything else. We need to know more about this Nefarius, and we need to know about Kheross and Rhea.”