by Chris Fox
Skare allowed a smile—well, more of a grimace, really—to slide across his features. Jolene recoiled a few millimeters, though she tried to hide it. The fact that his appearance still gave her discomfort was a source of immense pride.
“Very well, we’ll skip the preamble.” He swirled the contents of his glass, then fished a vial from his pocket. The glass holding the dark liquid had been triply enchanted, and was as close to unbreakable as he could create. He held it up to the light to expose its precious contents, nearly a quarter of what he possessed. “This liquid is the blood of a goddess. A very rare goddess. Through a lengthly process this tiny amount can be enchanted to infuse a near infinite amount of metal.”
Jolene’s eyes smoldered with hunger, and were fixed upon the vial as she spoke. “And you are showing it to me why?”
Skare crooked his free hand and a second cup winked into existence next to the first. It rapidly filled of its own accord. He touched the surface of the vial to remove the cap, and dumped precisely half into each goblet.
“This liquid is infinitely valuable,” Skare explained, as if Jolene hadn’t spoken. He handed her a cup, which she accepted with a good deal of suspicion. “And the amount I poured into each cup could purchase a colony. More, if you could find a buyer who could afford it.”
Skare sipped his wine, enjoying the rush of dark power that slid down his throat. He savored another gulp, and before he realized it he was licking the inside of the glass clean. He looked up to find Jolene studying him, her face twisted into horrified disbelief.
“You seem reluctant to try it.” He forced himself to set the cup back on his desk. “Is that because of my physical reaction?” Skare wiped his sleeve across his mouth, and then licked the stain.
“You’re clearly an addict.” Jolene scooted backward into her chair, away from the cup, which she’d set on the edge of the table, as far from her as she could. “What makes you think I’d want to start down the same path? And why would you waste such a precious resource?” She eyed the cup, though, with a hint of longing.
“You know why.” He smiled magnanimously. “Money is pointless. Fame is pointless. Beauty, pointless. You know better than nearly any other person in the sector what isn’t. Power, Jolene. It’s the thing we both understand that so many of our rivals did not. Power is everything. Why should you drink it, Jolene? Why, while knowing that it will create a longing in you for more?” He leaned across his desk and his smile became ghastly. “Power as you have never known. My magic is infinitely stronger. My immortal life, secured. You? You might be able to live a few more centuries by pillaging magic from Catalysts. If you’re lucky. But me? I am truly immortal, Jolene. And I will become a demigod. In enough time, who knows? I might become a full god.”
The rush of power was upon him now, and he longed to demonstrate it. He knew that doing so would have an adverse effect though. Her curiosity needed time to grow, to germinate within the field of doubts he’d sewn.
“If this liquid is so powerful, and you crave it so much, why would you offer a portion to me?” She cocked her head, then shook it suddenly with a self-deprecating laugh. “I am impressed by the trap, Skare. Very impressed. The bait is nearly irresistible, as you know I seek to prolong my life as long as possible. But I’m not going to drink this. I’m going to have it analyzed.”
He shook his head slightly. “No. The liquid does not leave this room. If you wish to drink it, you may. If not…” He reached for the cup.
To his surprise Jolene snatched it up, and downed the contents in three quick gulps. She eyed him a challenge as she wiped the back of her hand across her lips. “A devil’s bargain then. Very well, I’ve accepted the bait. I’ve done it knowing you will use it to hang me.”
“Then why do it?” He asked. His entire body burned, in the most wonderful way.
“Because you reminded me of something.” She leaned forward and her features hardened. “I have been at the bottom before. Many times. But I have always clawed my way back up. And one day, I will find a way to use this to my advantage. I will unseat you, Skare.”
He began to laugh, then settled into his couch and watched. As expected, Jolene’s pupils dilated. Her mouth went slack. She was no longer in the present moment, but instead seeing the world as a goddess saw it. Learning that the universe wasn’t a static thing, as their limited understanding of magic painted it to be. It was fluid, possibilities spinning off in every direction.
Skare rose to his feet. “I have business to be about. Your…transformation, for lack of a better word, will be brief. No more than a half hour. When it is over do whatever you wish, Jolene. I know you think there is a hidden hook in all this, but in time you’ll understand that we are very much on the same side.”
He strode from his quarters, smiling. The best way to deal with an enemy was to give them a vested interest in your success. Jolene had that now, even if she didn’t fully understand yet. She was a part of Nefarius, and in time would learn the awful price.
They were allies now, bound by the same hellish pact.
21
X-3
Nara had six eternal days to live with her choices. They made what would have been a cavernously empty ship positively claustrophobic, and she saw her abandoned friends everywhere. She’d taken one of the most potent weapons in the sector at a time when it was needed to battle the Krox, and she’d done it out of pure selfish need. What did that say about her?
During her many sleepless nights she examined the returning memories, and took some small solace there, at least. She’d yet to see much of the woman she became under Yorrak’s control, but as a Zephyr she hadn’t been appallingly muhaha evil or anything. She might have been cold, but she didn’t seem any more callous than most soldiers. Whatever she’d become must have happened later, after the first mind-wipe.
That meant that the woman she’d originally been, X-3, had been a good person. Or better than the woman Aran had briefly known. And if that were the case, didn’t that mean that the real Nara lay somewhere in the middle? She turned the questions over and over in her mind, because there was little else to do.
By the time Nara reached the unmarked Ternus system she’d started to go a bit stir crazy. “Come on, come on.” She tapped her fingers along the stabilizing ring as she waited for the Fissure to finish opening.
The very instant it was wide enough, Nara guided the Talon through. They emerged behind a truly massive gas giant with a roiling orange storm covering its entire surface. “I guess the facility must be deeper in the system.”
She piloted mostly by instinct and returning memory, and slowly curved around the apex of the planet. In the distance she saw rocks glittering in the sun, and the image strummed a memory. She’d been here before. Many times. This had been, for many years, home.
Nara guided the Talon forward, but took a moment to tap a dream, then an air sigil. The ship quivered, and the invisibility spell cloaked them from enemy detection. No sense taking any chances.
She guided the ship around the edge of the asteroid field, and spent a good twenty minutes scouting before she located the installation. It had been mounted to the back of one of the larger asteroids, and while it wasn’t evident from looking at it she remembered they’d had mounted thrusters throughout the rocky caves that helped them maneuver the asteroid wherever they needed it to be.
That level of security had protected them for years, until they’d drawn the ire of a god, apparently. Assuming that’s even what Talifax was. Nara had no idea where he stood in relation to a goddess like Neith, but she was fairly certain that the spider-goddess had made a very wise decision by remaining hidden. Talifax was the only being she’d seen able to utter Neith’s name aloud, which only underscored the terror.
Nara flew toward the docking area and landed in berth six, as she always had. The surrounding berths were empty, and the outer station walls were scored and dented from repeated asteroid impacts. During her time, they’d had point defense lasers designe
d to deflect such rocks, but if the system was down, it would explain the damage.
She hurried down to the Talon’s cargo bay, where they kept their spellarmor and weapons. A sudden surge of guilt washed over her as she walked past first Crewes’s armor, then Kez’s. They’d need that armor, but she’d stolen it.
Nara forced herself past it, and sketched a void sigil before her own battered Mark V. Unlike Aran, she’d been flying the same suit since the beginning, and it hadn’t been in great shape to start out with. But it was familiar, and was the possession she’d owned the longest.
She slipped into the worn interior, and inhaled the tangy, sweat smell that had once bothered her so much. Nara willed the armor into the air, and drifted through the cargo bay’s protective membrane and out into the void. She drifted slowly toward the station, and noted that the docking arm that would normally extend to approaching ships had been damaged.
Nara sketched a blink spell and appeared inside the arm’s airlock. The corridor inside was dark, so she sketched a fire sigil and a globe of flame appeared over her, enough to cast long shadows around her. The walls had been scored by something sharp, and bore a number of dents. That seemed consistent with the rock spiders she’d seen in her memory.
She moved down the corridor and into the mess. Two skeletal bodies lay against opposite walls. Both wore the suits from her memory, each shredded by the rock spiders. They hadn’t had a chance against a summoned creature like that. Their spells were their best weapons, but they’d been trained to only fire those on command. The very mechanism of control Ternus had used had prevented their creations from defending themselves.
Nara paused long enough to retrieve her staff from her void pocket, then advanced further into the station. The place seemed completely devoid of life, but it didn’t appear to have been looted. This place must have lain dormant ever since Yorrak had raided it, which meant that whatever Talifax intended her to find was probably still here.
“Indeed.” Talifax’s voice rumbled from the shadows up the corridor. She couldn’t see his face, but his shadowed form loomed at the edge of the light cast by her globe of flame. “You will find the equipment you used for so many years, and now you possess the memories to properly utilize it. That, however, is not what I intended you to find here.”
Nara’s anger kept her warm inside the armor. “Clearly you aren’t going to kill me since you need me for something. Before we go any further, I have to ask…why? Why the games? Why taunt me? What purpose could it possibly serve, other than ensuring I hate you?”
Talifax stepped into the light, yet the light still refused to touch him. He remained hazy and indistinct, as if not really here at all. “Such communication serves two purposes. First, it ensures you understand that I can reach you anywhere, at any time. That everything you do is at my behest. And second, it allows me to converse with another being, an indulgence I rarely have a chance to engage in.”
This thing was…lonely?
Nara continued up the corridor and did her best to ignore Talifax. That single admission robbed him of some of the terror, though Nara was still painfully aware that he could incinerate her at will if she didn’t do exactly what he wanted.
It didn’t take long to reach her room, and as she’d remembered, there was precious little of use. No diary. No teddy bear. Nothing to suggest a real person had lived here. Everything she’d possessed had been on the comm unit she’d used, and she still had no idea what had happened to that.
Nara left the room, Talifax’s specter hovering behind her as she continued to explore. She vaguely remembered a training room, and made for that wing of the facility. The damage was less here, and there was almost no scoring along the walls as she reached a wide gymnasium.
“What you seek is along the far wall,” Talifax rumbled quietly. He seemed content to observe, for the most part, and Nara saw no reason to dignify his words with a response. The best she could manage right now was ignoring him.
She drifted in that direction, the globe of light illuminating a swimming pool, and then a firing range. Finally she arrived at the far wall, which held a dozen tubes, each containing a set of the armor she’d worn when she served as a Zephyr.
Each suit was a muted grey covered in small bumps. She approached carefully and instinctively tapped in a sequence on the number pad. The tube hissed open, showing that this place had some power, at least. She leaned into the tube and noted the cable attached to the visor. That cable plugged directly into her spine, and she knew if she touched her neck she’d feel the scar.
“I assume you expect me to take this?” She half faced Talifax. “I don’t see why I would. It doesn’t offer any advantages my Mark V doesn’t already offer. That thing doesn’t even have potion loaders.”
Talifax’s tone was amused. “Your current spellarmor does not possess the necessary technology to interface with Ternus computer systems. Nor will it interface with your implants.”
Implants? She blinked as a piece of memory returned, a mask descending over her mouth, and then sudden unconsciousness. People moving around her, measuring vitals. Her awakening fully, to find every part of her body sore. She’d been unable to even walk for weeks. What had they done to her? What did these implants do?
“Besides,” Talifax continued. “You miss the obvious. You can simply wear both.”
Nara looked back up at the armor she’d worn as X-3 and realized he was right. It was form fitting, just like a flight suit. She could wear that, and then don her spellarmor as needed. That made this a pure upgrade, as well as a link to her past. Putting it on would be challenging, though, as while this place still had atmosphere, it had no heat. Nara opened her void pocket and began balling up the suit.
She’d just finished stuffing it inside when she heard voices in the distance. Light danced up one of the corridors, a layered illuminance as if cast by a flame. Mages then, whoever they were. What were the odds that they’d arrived at a remote, and very secret, facility at the precise moment she herself did?
“I assume whoever they are is what you really intended me to find?” Nara reached for the new rifle next to the suit and added that to the void pocket before sealing it. She could examine it later.
“Or rather, they who will find you.” Talifax vanished.
The voices were growing closer, and Nara realized she recognized one of them. It was Kahotep, the hatchling she’d fought for the Spellship. It wasn’t Kaho that scared her, though. It was the word he used. Mother.
Nebiat was here.
22
Magibombs
A great many unspoken things changed as Frit’s ragged family crossed the umbral depths in search of whatever facility Nebiat intended to use them at. Very quickly the Ifrit settled into subservient roles. Nebiat never gave an order, but every one of her suggestions was obeyed without hesitation. It was becoming a habit, even for her, Frit realized.
Nebiat never asked them to do anything unreasonable. She never demanded. So it made it difficult to say no, especially when you were going to do whatever she asked you to do anyway.
They arrived at Ternus on the sixth day, and Frit was grateful, if for nothing other than the break in the monotony. She joined her sisters in the cargo bay, where Nebiat had asked them to gather. Nebiat was already there, though there was no sign of Kaho. Perhaps he was needed to fly the ship.
“Sisters,” Nebiat called in a high, musical voice. “Your attention, if you please.”
The Ifrit dutifully fell silent, and each watched her expectantly. Fritara stood the closest, which didn’t surprise Frit in the least.
Nebiat pointed at the docking tube opposite the cargo bay where they stood. “This facility was once used by Ternus in a misbegotten attempt to harness magic. Like their failed experience in the umbral depths, it was eventually abandoned. However, I’ve recovered information that there may still be a weapon of considerable power here. One that could turn the tide of the war in our favor.”
“And you want u
s to find the weapons?” Fritara gushed.
“Precisely.” Nebiat smiled down at Fritara like she might a pet that had performed a trick, and Fritara gobbled up the praise. “Explore the station and bring anything useful back to this cargo bay. I will await your return here.”
Frit turned without a word and kicked off the hull. The motion aimed her at the docking tube, and she sailed roughly down the middle until she reached the door at the other end. Her sisters were already landing behind her, each adopting the combat stances they’d been trained to use.
Frit punched the cycle button, and they crept inside the dead facility. There was no light, and no heat, except what they brought with them. Frit turned back to her sisters. “I’ll head down this way. Spread out, and let’s see if we can find what Nebiat is after.”
Her sisters began splitting up, so Frit headed up a corridor at random. Being away from the others gave her room to think, which was damned nice. She always had her guard up around Nebiat, and increasingly around Fritara. How long before she feared other sisters too? This wasn’t at all what she’d planned when she’d left Shaya.
Frit paused suddenly, as she caught the glint of something in the darkness. She looked up and realized it came from a doorway she’d otherwise have missed. She moved cautiously into the room, and bent to inspect the object. It was a spellpistol mounted on a rack where it was being fitted with some sort of scope.
Behind it lay a row of metal cylinders about waist high, each emblazoned with the Ternus biohazard symbol that she’d come to associate with their nuclear weapons. Frit’s shoulders slumped. It figured that she’d be the one to find the weapon Nebiat needed, and to find it this quickly, when she’d have preferred it never be found at all. She approached a cylinder and bent to read the script on the side.