War Mage: The Magitech Chronicles Book 4

by Chris Fox

  “How are we supposed to revive her?” Voria asked numbly. “Wasn’t the pool the magic we needed to do exactly that?”

  “And what of the tree, and our people?” Asked a stern-faced young woman Voria had never met. “If the tree dies, they die too. This world will be abandoned.”

  “That,” Voria said, “we can most definitely correct. The tree thrives on life magic, and we possess more life mages than any world in the sector.”

  “S-she is right,” Eros whispered, “The reserves I set aside will be enough to keep the tree alive for several years, but you will still need to find a way to restore Shaya.” He fixed his gaze on Ducius. “It falls upon you to lead them, old enemy of mine. If Shaya cannot be restored, you must take them far from here. Yanthara, perhaps, where I secreted Rhea.”

  To Voria’s horror she noted a single teardrop slide down Ducius’s face. “Of course, you old bastard. I will take care of them, I promise.”

  Eros reached up a trembling hand and rested it on Ducius’s sleeve. “I name you Tender, as the goddess will no longer be able to confirm one.” His voice had faded to be nearly inaudible. “Please, Ducius. Learn to work with Voria. Do not make my mistake. We need her. She is the key…”

  The light left Eros’s eyes, and his chest stopped its frantic rising and falling. Voria ignored the tears, and reverently closed Eros’s eyes. Somewhere in the room a man began to sob.

  Voria looked up to find Ducius watching her. He licked his lips. “He was no friend to me, but he loved our people. I love our people. Whatever I believe about you, I know that you love our people too. Will you help me?”

  Voria nodded. “We’ll find a way, Ducius. I cannot believe the gods have led us this far without a plan. Somehow, we will bring back Shaya, and she will help us oppose Krox.”

  She didn’t really believe her own words. Bringing Shaya back had seemed impossible when they’d had the pool. Now? There was no being in the sector that she was aware of with the strength to bring a goddess back from the dead. Without that, they were doomed.

  52

  Aftermath

  Aran leaned back in his chair, and stared up at the holoscreen over the conference room table. It had been tuned to some sort of news channel, which, of course, was filled with news about the war. It shocked him how brutally honest the reports were, including casualty reports. But, apparently, this was a populace that could handle it.

  Crewes shifted uncomfortably in the chair next to Aran. “Man, I keep feelin’ like something is going bust through that wall.”

  “I think the Ternus folk call that PTSD,” Bord supplied. “One of their medics told me about it. They’ve been all over me trying to figure out how I can heal. Drives them a little batty, I think, my immense power does.” He steepled his hands behind his head. “Why, if I wasn’t spoken for, I’m sure I could have my pick of the lovelies on this planet.”

  “But you are spoken for,” Kezia pointed out with an eyeroll. “And why I did the speaking, I’m still not sure.”

  “It was my wily charm.” Bord shot her a wink, and both Aran and Crewes laughed.

  “Children.” Kheross rested his booted feet on the table at the far side of the room, as far as he could get from them. He shook his head. “Can you not maintain focus for even a day after the crisis has abated? It is unlikely, but still possible that Arkelion resides on this planet and seeks vengeance.”

  Tharn’s drones circled, whirring as they recorded it all. The woman herself sat silently sipping coffee. Every once in a while she’d make an observation on her datapad, but she said nothing.

  The door opened and two Marines stepped inside. Nimitz entered a moment later, followed by Governor Bhatia. Both seated themselves, while the Marines flanked the door at attention.

  “I apologize for the accommodations,” Nimitz grumbled. He removed his hat and tossed it on the table near Kheross’s feet, then sat in the chair next to the Wyrm. “We’re not exactly equipped to handle guests.”

  “We mostly just want a place to sleep.” Aran rubbed at the back of his neck. “Were coming up on thirty-two hours without sleep.”

  “I understand.” Bhatia gave a sympathetic nod. “This will not take long, I promise. But it could not wait. Before I deliver my news, let me start by confirming what we all believed. Colonel Voria arrived and used the Spellship to destroy every corpse on the planet with a single spell. I don’t know much about magic, but frankly I find a spell of that magnitude terrifying.”

  “You and me both,” Aran admitted. “We didn’t really know what that ship was capable of when we rescued it.”

  “And that brings me to the second piece of news.” Bhatia gave a heavy sigh and rested her elbows on the table. She fixed him with a sober look. “We have your friend Nara in custody. She surrender the Talon at Colony 3 after staging a coup against the Krox loyalists on the vessel. As a result, she saved that world. However, that doesn’t change the fact that she fought against the Confederacy in a time of war. The law seems pretty clear.”

  “Respectfully, Governor, was there a question in there?” Aran took a deep breath. The exhaustion was getting the better of him.

  “Can she be trusted, Captain? Should I release her into your custody? Should she rot in a cell? And what about the Krox she was caught with, a true mage named Kaho I’m told? As if the whole issue weren’t sticky enough, she was caught with two Ifrit whose only crime seems to be trying to escape from the Shayan forces in system hunting them.”

  “Shayan forces? Are you talking about Ree?” Aran straightened, and his heart began to thunder.

  “I’m sorry if she was a friend, Captain, but she was killed in action, by Nara.” The governor’s mouth firmed into a line. “Nara was defending herself, and we have the entire thing recorded. She did nothing wrong, and had already offered to surrender. The Shayan commander attacked anyway, and in the process did catastrophic damage to one of our own stations.”

  “Ree’s dead.” Aran shook his head slowly as he struggled to process the idea. He didn’t even know how to feel. He hadn’t ever really liked her, but he’d never doubted she was fighting for the same thing. She was a strong ally, at the very least. And in time he believed they could have become friends. And even if they never did it was still his fault she’d come. His responsibility.

  “Wow.” Crewes gave a low whistle. “So you got Nara and her cronies on ice. Nice. What are you going to do with our ship?”

  “I lobbied hard for that.” Nimitz broke in. “High command has seen reason. They’ll turn over the vessel, with a stipulation.”

  “Stipulation?” Aran asked wearily.

  “This one isn’t so onerous, I hope,” the governor said. “We’d like you to allow Tharn aboard as crew. Ternus has deemed you vital to the war effort. You’ve single handedly turned around morale, and they want to tap into more of that. If you’re going to continue fighting the Krox, then we’ll fund your contract, and give you whatever bonus you want. That’s our only condition.”

  “You’re right,” Aran allowed. “It isn’t that bad. All right. You give us our ship back, and we’ll let you record the payback we’re going to deliver to the Krox. What about Nara?”

  “Truthfully?” the governor asked. “I don’t know. I suspect she will be remanded to Colonel Voria’s custody, alongside the other prisoners. My government would love to make this someone else’s problem, and seeing how she trained the girl they’ll probably find that the most fitting.”

  53

  Time Will Prove One of Us Right

  Nara had assumed she’d be terrified, but being remanded into Ternus custody was instead a genuine relief. She’d made a choice, and now for good or ill she’d taken herself out of the war. Talifax couldn’t use her if she was languishing in a cell on some space station, and there was no way Ternus would let her go given the company she kept. They’d loved finding a Krox on board.

  She waited patiently as a technician injected something into her arm. In moments, she was sick
to her stomach and her hands began to tremble. She looked around the little cell, with a reasonably comfortable bed and a simple desk. There. The bed.

  She staggered over, and slumped onto the lumpy mattress. “What did you give me?”

  “A magical suppressant,” the tech explained without looking at her. It was covered head to foot in a white plastic exterior. Though, now that she thought about it, she had no way of knowing there was a living person inside. This could be one of the robots she’d heard about. “It will prevent you from casting spells while under its effects. I apologize for the side effects.”

  “Of course, I understand.” And she did. Ternus wasn’t taking any chances, and she didn’t blame them. “Are you allowed to answer questions?”

  The white figure moved fluidly, but Nara was increasingly certainly it was artificial. “I have not been expressly forbidden from doing so, and I can see no reason not to tell you what I know. The surviving Shayan spellfighters were allowed to depart the system without further hostilities. Your companions have been put into custody in this system. None have been harmed, so far as I know. I will be conducting medical exams of each.”

  “Thank you.” Nara relaxed back against the bed and wished the nausea would go away. And it did. Instantly. She blinked a few times. She felt much better.

  The doctor gave her a nod, and then departed the room.

  “I already know you’re here,” she said, more than a little sourly. “Have you come to gloat?”

  “To converse.” Talifax materialized in the chair next to the desk. Somehow, it contained his bulk without breaking. “You have done well, and completed the tasks in the manner of my choosing. I am pleased.”

  Nara closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I am not pleased. I used my friend, Talifax. I don’t like manipulating her. Frit deserves better.”

  “Your wishes are irrelevant. Your species is irrelevant, ultimately. Nothing more than a galactic footnote.” Talifax rose and approached the bed. “Was anything you asked her to do wrong, or not in her own best interests? You convinced her not to eradicate hundreds of millions, while starving billions more. Certainly that is worthy of your persuasion, yes?”

  Nara sat up and scooted down the bed, away from Talifax. The nausea was getting worse. “Yes, and that’s what infuriates me the most. Everything you want me to do seems like the best thing at the time. I’m not sorry I convinced Frit to stay. I think it was the right play for her people.”

  “Yes.” Talifax’s voice was amused. “She and her sisters will be much better off, and Krox will be denied a powerful asset. What’s more, their chief enemy is still very much in fighting shape. One of the wonderful things about humanity is the speed with which you reproduce. In a single generation, Ternus will recover, and so Krox will have no choice but to deal with them before that happens.”

  Nara nodded. “You weaken both sides while prolonging the war. How noble.”

  “Come, now, that descriptor applies to neither of us, ‘Pirate Girl’.” Talifax gave an amused shake of his head. “You will do what it takes to survive, and to protect who and what you love. Where your companions balk, you will do what needs to be done, even if it is distasteful.”

  “Yes.” Nara hated admitting that, but it was the truth. Especially after recovering many of her memories. She glared fiercely up at Talifax. “But I am not your plaything. I will not do as you wish, unless it coincides with my own goals.”

  Talifax boomed a metallic laugh. “Passion born of ignorance. You do not yet grasp my plans. Your reward is great, Nara. Great enough that I believe you will betray anything and everything to achieve it.”

  She rolled her eyes at that, but Talifax merely sat there. “Okay, let’s hear your offer.”

  “I intend to elevate you to godhood,” Talifax explained as if relating the weather. “Your divine incarnation will be born to oppose Krox, and you will triumph over him.”

  Nara began to laugh. She couldn’t help it. It rolled out of her in waves, the kind where she couldn’t stop giggling, until she struggled for breath. “Oh, that’s rich.”

  “You do not believe I can achieve this?” For the first time his voice was brittle and cold.

  “Oh, no, it isn’t that.” She folded her arms and stared defiantly up at him. “It’s the idea that I’d put myself in a position to serve you. That’s the part that’s ludicrous. What’s the point of becoming a goddess if I’m on a leash, and at your beck and call?”

  “Perhaps you are not as cognitively gifted as I was led to believe.” Now he sounded disappointed. “Consider the alternative.”

  That gave her pause, a moment’s worth at least. If he really were offering to make her a goddess, and the reason was to oppose Krox, what chance would the sector have if she turned it down? Krox would win. Talifax knew that, just as he knew she’d reach the same conclusion.

  “I will never serve you. I’ll let the sector burn first.” She pulled her knees to her chest, and rested her forehead atop them so she didn’t have to stare at Talifax.

  “Time will prove one of us right.” The amusement was back. “Rest, vessel. The days ahead will be long and bloody, but they will end in your ascension.”

  54

  Rhymes With Shinura

  Kazon snapped his helmet into place and took a deep breath as the HUD flared to life. The Mark XII spellarmor had just been completed, and he’d secured seventeen sets. Sixteen of those were stowed in the cargo hold, alongside the other gear and munitions he’d squirreled away. Combined with what he’d gradually siphoned, it might be enough to keep Voria’s unit—and Aran’s—fighting until the end of the war.

  He doubted he could reach New Texas in time to make a difference, but it couldn’t hurt to try. He still owed Aran, and even if he didn’t, he was smart enough to see how important Aran, and his sister, were. They had some sort of divine purpose, and he was in a position to help them achieve it, if he could safely escape the Inuran fleet.

  The door to his quarters shimmered out of existence as Kazon exited. He made his way toward the bridge, struggling to calm himself as he walked. His heart rate remained elevated, and he didn’t have any idea how to control it. This whole endeavor terrified him, and it probably should terrify him.

  Only his mother could eclipse Skare’s ruthlessness. Having both focused on him meant his odds of survival were slim. His only hope was sneaking away before they made their move, but now that he was leaving he was about to find out what contingency plans they’d put into place.

  And they had—of that he was certain.

  Kazon ducked onto the bridge and moved to the closest spell matrix. He’d considered bringing a real pilot, but he possessed void magic, and he’d been practicing. He should be able to open a Fissure and bring the ship to meet Aran on New Texas. If the ship was corrupted, he could abandon it, after turning over its contents.

  A soft chiming echoed over the bridge and the scry-screen flared to life of its own accord. Kazon jumped, then relaxed a moment later when he realized what was happening. His vessel had been designed to mostly run itself, and this was simply normal operating procedure.

  The screen showed three dozen spellfighters zipping out from the Inuran fleet. All were headed in his direction.

  “That didn’t take long.” Kazon tapped the void sigil on the silver ring, then the gold, and finally the bronze. The ship’s drive rumbled to life. “Good luck catching me.”

  He guided the ship away from the dock and began to accelerate away. The Hermes was, quite literally, the fastest thing the Inurans had ever built. His mother had given it to him, assuming it would impress him. How ironic that her gift was going to be the thing that saved him.

  The dock fell away behind him, and he began gaining distance from the fleet. A large, scarlet number began counting down in the lower right corner of the scry-screen to indicate their approach to the planet’s umbral shadow.

  Six, five, four, three—the vessel came to a sudden and complete halt, and the spelldrive
powered down. He wasn’t even drifting. The vessel stopped moving entirely, a mere thousand kilometers from the umbral shadow.

  Kazon inspected the matrix, but found nothing amiss. Everything seemed to be working.

  “I should have seen this coming,” he muttered. Kazon shook his head. “The ship came from my mother, but ultimately it must have been Skare who built it.”

  The scry-screen flashed red to indicate an incoming missive. Kazon tapped the fire sigil to accept, and the screen filled with his mother’s face. Skare lurked behind her, a ghastly smile making Kazon’s hands twitch. He’d give nearly anything to wrap them around that skinny bastard’s throat.

  “By now, you’re aware of your predicament,” Jolene began. Her tone was empathetic, and while she was an excellent actress, he was fairly certain her concern wasn’t feigned. “Our fighters will arrive in moments. Surrender, Kazon.”

  In that moment, he realized that while the concern wasn’t fake, its motive wasn’t at all what he’d thought. She didn’t fear for his safety. She was concerned he might get away. He considered a clever retort, but couldn’t spare the time. Kazon stabbed the fire sigil and the scry-screen went dark.

  What were his options?

  He ducked out of the matrix, but had no clear idea where to go. If the vessel wouldn’t move he could take an escape pod, but those had also been built by Skare. He could try flying out of the ship using the Mark XII armor. Unfortunately, its anti-detection countermeasures required magic he didn’t possess, so Jolene would simply scry his location and track him.

  He’d never make it to the umbral depths, not with three squadrons of spellfighters chasing him. The dilemma was maddening, but he wasn’t willing to merely surrender. Maybe they’d catch him, but right now his only option was leaving the ship and using the spellarmor to flee.