by Clayton Wood
“All right Guts, time to take all this shit down,” he ordered, sitting down at the edge of the scaffolding, then swinging his legs over. He hung there like a monkey on a branch, then dropped down to the deck below. Kyle did the same, albeit much more slowly, falling the six or so feet to the deck and falling onto his butt. Slim cackled, offering Kyle a hand and pulling him up.
“You splat like a Turd,” he observed. “Maybe that should be your name.” Kyle rolled his eyes at him. “Come on Guts!” He walked up to the scaffolding, dismantling it piece by piece. Kyle took each piece, stacking it in a tall crate. When they were done, Slim grabbed a dolly and tied the crate to it. They made their way down to the cargo hold, opening a trap door in the deck and going down a ramp to get there. When they opened the double-doors to the cargo hold, they found Ariana standing there with Rusty, who was breathing heavily, sweat glistening on his forehead.
“Hey Rusty,” Slim greeted, grinning at the hefty man. “Whoa big guy, you're sweating like a whore in church!” Rusty ignored the comment, gesturing to Ariana.
“Slim, this is Ariana.” Slim regarded Ariana for a moment, his grin never faltering.
“Damn,” he swore. “You born in a cave?”
“She's got anemia,” Rusty explained.
“You're Ghost,” Slim declared. Ariana raised an eyebrow.
“Ghost?”
“You're white as one, ain't you?” Slim asked.
“Okay...” Ariana replied, glancing at Kyle, who shrugged helplessly. Rusty wiped his sweaty forehead with the back of his hand.
“You guys all set with the scaffolding?” he asked. Slim nodded.
“You need help rotating?”
“Sure,” Rusty answered. He put a hand on Ariana's shoulder. “Though I have to say, Ariana – er, Ghost – here is quite the worker.” He shook his head in amazement. “She's twice as strong as she looks, and she hasn't stopped a single second till now!”
“Wish I could say the same about Guts here,” Slim said, slapping Kyle on the back again. “He's slower than snot.” Kyle glared at the man, while Ariana stared at Kyle, mouthing “Guts,” with a questioning expression. Kyle ignored her.
“We have to move all of the crates with the orange marks from the center to the edges of the ship,” Rusty explained to Ariana. “And take the crates at the edges – the ones marked blue – and put them in the center.”
“Why?” Ariana asked. Kyle agreed; it seemed like a heck of a lot of work for no reason.
“Well that's a long story,” Rusty answered. “See, where we come from – Verhan – they don't allow magic.” Ariana's eyebrows rose.
“Why not?”
“Back in what you call Ancient times,” Rusty replied, “...your Empire invaded Verhan’s cities and demolished their government. They murdered millions of natives, then made the survivors into slaves to work the mines.” He shook his head. “They sucked the mines dry, shipping precious stones back to the Empire for their Runics.”
“What?” Kyle blurted out. “That's a lie!” Slim smirked.
“Aw hell, they didn't teach you that in school?” he remarked. He turned to Rusty. “Must've skipped over the part where their ancestors got into the genocidal slave-driver business.” He shook his head. “Ain't that precious.”
“Yes, well,” Rusty muttered. “It's no lie. Eventually the natives freed the slaves and won back their freedom. People from the Empire mated with the natives, diluting their blood and creating our ancestors. Eventually our ancestors rebuilt the government and its cities.” He scratched his beard. “After...everything that happened, our ancestors decided to forbid the use of magic.”
“But why?” Ariana asked.
“Magic annihilated our people,” Rusty replied. “Twice.”
“But doesn't not making magic leave you vulnerable to those that do?” Ariana pressed. Rusty smiled.
“You would think,” he agreed. “But we discovered a technology that neutralizes magic. If anyone tried to attack our cities, they would have to do so without it.”
“Wait, how can you neutralize magic?” Kyle asked. Slim frowned at him.
“You're awfully quick for being slow, Guts.”
“He's smart enough,” Ariana interjected. “He has a hard time talking sometimes, that's all.”
“Oh,” Rusty replied. “Well, I can't really tell you that,” he admitted. “You’d have to ask the Captain.” He shrugged. “Anyway, no magic is allowed in Verhan. Not in things, not in people.”
“What happens to people that are born able to make magic?” Ariana asked.
“I’m not sure,” Rusty answered. “Come on,” he added. “We'd better get going on moving this cargo.” He walked up to one ten-foot stack of crates, crouching down before it. “Each stack is on a metal pallet with wheels that lock,” he informed. “We unlock the wheels, then push the stacks.”
“Isn't that dangerous?” Kyle asked. “What if it tips over?” Slim grinned.
“Why you think we're having you do it?” he countered. Rusty rolled his eyes.
“It's dangerous, yes,” Rusty admitted, bending over to unlock each wheel. “Take it slow and they won't tip over.” He gestured at the stack. “All the marked crates – the ones we need to move – are shorter and lighter than the stationary ones.” Rusty and Slim got to one side of the crate stack, then pushed hard. The stack slowly rolled, and they moved it a dozen feet before stopping.
“Now,” Slim stated, “...we take a stack from the edges and put it here,” he added, pointing to where the stack had just been.
“So why do all this again?” Ariana asked.
“To suck the magic out,” Slim answered. Rusty nodded.
“The Captain does business with the Empire,” he explained. “We ship gemstones to your government, in return for a variety of crops and other goods. Problem is, your goods – your whole city – is contaminated by magic.” He wiped a few beads of sweat from his forehead. “Since magic is forbidden in Verhan, we have to make sure all that magic is leeched out before we get to port.”
“Or else,” Slim agreed.
“What happens if they find magic?” Kyle asked.
“Best-case scenario,” Rusty answered, “...they confiscate and destroy the contaminated cargo, and fine the Captain.” He cleared his throat then. “Worst-case, they hang the Captain and the crew.”
“Whoa,” Kyle murmured.
“That's why he wanted you two Tested,” Rusty explained. “If you'd made magic, you would've contaminated the entire ship, and he would've been done for.” He gave them a pained look. “That's why he said he'd, you know...”
“Shoot us and throw us in the ocean?” Ariana asked.
“Right.”
“Great,” Ariana muttered.
“So anyway,” Rusty continued, looking rather flustered, “...we Test all cargo ahead of time, and mark the stacks that Test positive for magic. Then we put as many as we can as close to the hull of the ship as possible, and if we can't fit them all there, we rotate them every day.”
“But why?” Kyle pressed.
“The ocean,” Slim answered. “Slurps the magic right outta stuff.” Rusty nodded.
“The deep ocean has no magic,” he informed. “So it slowly sucks magic out of anything near it. The Defiance's hull has metal beams designed to conduct magic, so any contaminated crates near it will leak magic to the hull, which will carry it out into the ocean.”
“Ohhh,” Kyle murmured. “Got it.” He had to give the Captain credit; that was actually pretty clever.
“All right ladies, enough yapping,” Slim groused, gesturing for Kyle and Ariana to follow him to another stack of crates. “These things ain't gonna move themselves.”
* * *
Kalibar sighed, closing the book he'd been reading and tilting his head back to rest his aching neck. He slid the book across the table he was sitting at, staring absently across the room, at the row upon row of bookshelves in the Runic Archives. Then he sighed again, glanc
ing down at the book's ornate cover.
A Brief History of Verhan, it read.
He'd come down to the Archives soon after talking with High Weaver Urson about getting his children back. He didn't know why he'd had the sudden compulsion to come here, to be surrounded by books. He found it comforting, he supposed. To be steeped in knowledge, to escape, for a moment, into someone else's mind. But it was telling that every book he'd chosen to skim through was dedicated to that continent on the other side of the ocean: Orja. Liberated by the Ancients a mere decade before the fall of the old Empire, only the easternmost coast had been mapped, its native peoples and cultures poorly understood.
Now was no different. They'd rediscovered Orja by accident, recovering ancient texts about the continent a few years ago. Ships had been sent to Orja, to the coordinates recorded in those books...some of which Kalibar had just spent the last few hours perusing. They'd found the bustling city of Verhan, much larger than Stridon. A city without magic.
Kalibar heard footsteps approaching, and turned to see a stooped old woman walk into the Archives. It was Master Lee, Erasmus's mother. He smiled wearily at her.
“Good afternoon, Lee,” he greeted. She smiled back.
“Kalibar,” she replied. She glanced down at the books scattered on the surface of Kalibar's table. “Reading up on Orja I see.”
“Yes,” he admitted. “Hardly pleasure reading,” he added ruefully. She walked up to the chair opposite him.
“This seat taken?” she inquired. He shook his head, and she sat down, leaning her skinny, wrinkled elbows on the tabletop. He stared at her desiccated flesh with dismay. When he'd first met Erasmus as a young man, Lee had been quite the beautiful woman. Time had been cruel to her, draining her of that beauty. And yet, Kalibar knew that beneath her aged flesh was the same mind as that gorgeous woman he'd once marveled to look at, no doubt horrified by what it had become. That was the fate of everyone who had the misfortune of growing old; Kalibar had started to feel the same dismay about his own reflection years ago.
“You're depressed,” Lee observed, giving Kalibar a wrinkly smirk. Kalibar sighed; Lee had always been frighteningly observant. Erasmus hadn't gotten away with much when he was younger.
“Indeed,” he murmured. When she just sat there staring at him, he gave her a rueful smile. “You're trying to get me to talk,” he observed. Lee grinned.
“Now if only my son were so observant,” she said, giving a dry, rasping chuckle. “You can tell me your darkest secrets, you know,” she added. “I'll be dead before I can spill my guts to anyone.”
“Only because you'd never tell anyone else,” Kalibar countered. And it was true; Lee was, like Erasmus, utterly trustworthy. He paused, glancing down at the books he'd been perusing, then wove magic in his mind's eye, creating a sound-dampening field around them. Lee's eyebrows rose slightly, but she said nothing. “Kyle and Ariana are missing,” he admitted.
“Taken?” Lee asked instantly. Kalibar shook his head.
“They left Stridon for Orja,” he corrected. “We have reason to believe Xanos is located there.”
“Why'd they leave?” she asked. Kalibar hesitated, then lowered his gaze to the tabletop.
“Ampir is dead.”
Lee stared at Kalibar for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then she sighed, leaning back in her chair.
“I see,” she murmured. “So why Orja?” Kalibar glanced at the shimmering blue surface of the sound-dampening field surrounding them, then shook his head.
“We're not secure here,” he warned. And it was true; as good as the field was, it was still possible to eavesdrop through. Lee smirked.
“We are now,” she countered, retrieving a small crystal from thin air, as was her way. She activated it, and a half-dozen faint blue spheres surrounded them in layers instantly. Kalibar couldn't help but smile. Lee would never admit to it, and few realized it, but she was very likely the most skilled Runic in the Empire...even better than Erasmus and the late Jax. “Tell me,” she prompted.
Kalibar sighed, then relayed his last conversation with Kyle and Ariana, about their plan to travel to Orja. And of Ariana’s...reaction. Lee listened silently throughout, saying not a word until he was finished...and for a long moment afterward. Finally, she sighed.
“Kalibar,” she stated, breaking the silence. “I love you like my own son. Sometimes more.”
“Thank...” Kalibar began.
“You're an idiot,” she interrupted. Kalibar's mouth snapped shut, and he stared at her incredulously.
“Okay...”
“You told your daughter to let everyone she loves die or be enslaved while she hides from Sabin for eternity.”
“I agree it's cruel,” Kalibar countered. “But attacking Sabin would be suicide.”
“Isn’t Ariana already dead?” Lee asked.
“Well yes, but...”
“So you told her to choose between being afraid for the rest of her potentially infinite life, or defying you?” Lee pressed.
Kalibar grimaced, shifting his weight in his chair.
“Right,” Lee grumbled.
“I don't have the luxury of protecting her feelings,” Kalibar protested. “With Ampir dead, nothing will stop Xanos from annihilating us. You know as well as I do that he won't settle for anything less than complete control of the Empire.”
“I don't disagree,” Lee replied. “He acts like a man who values his vision for humanity more than he values humanity itself.” She sighed. “Tyrants can justify murdering millions as long as it's for a good cause.” Kalibar raised an eyebrow at that.
“Isn't that what I did?” he mused. “I destroyed the tribes to create a unified Empire.” Lee shook her head.
“You didn't attack the tribes first,” she countered. “And you didn't attack Xanos first.” She sighed. “Xanos should be powerful enough to not need to kill everyone just to get his way.”
“I've often thought the same thing,” Kalibar agreed. “If I were Xanos, I would have stayed hidden, controlling the Empire through the living Chosen.”
“But he didn't,” Lee stated. “Why?”
“Someone was killing his Chosen,” Kalibar reasoned. “He was trying to flush out Ampir.”
“And that,” Lee replied, “...was worth more to him than the thousands of souls he attacked in the Southwest Quarter.” She leaned forward, propping her elbows on the table again. “That's the kind of man we're dealing with.”
“Mmm.”
“He destroyed the old Empire,” Lee continued. “And he's clearly willing to destroy this one. He can always start over, try again.”
“And he will,” Kalibar agreed, staring off into the distance at nothing in particular. “Unless we stop him.”
“You derided your children's plan,” Lee stated. “Do you have a better one?” Kalibar sighed, knowing she already knew the answer. He'd come down here to read these books for a reason.
“No.”
“Well then,” she replied, standing up from her chair and pushing it up to the table. Its wooden legs screeched against the floor. The half-dozen magical fields around them vanished abruptly. “I'll leave you to it.” She turned about then, walking away from him, toward the exit at the far end of the room.
“Thank you, Lee,” Kalibar called out to her. She waved one skinny arm without turning around.
“Didn't tell you anything you didn't already know.”
He heard the sound of a door opening and closing, and then there was silence. Kalibar rubbed his eyes, then stood up himself, stretching his aching back. He thought back to the speech he'd given to commemorate the deaths of his Battle-Weavers and elite guards in the lobby over a week ago, the one Ariana had quoted back to him:
I will give up my life to defend your right to be the captains of your own lives. I will die, as did those we commemorate, before I allow this Empire, this great nation and all it stands for, to perish.
He sighed, staring at the books scattered on the table before
him for a long time, lost in thought.
* * *
By the time Kyle and Ariana had finished their work in the cargo bay and climbed the ramp to the deck of the Defiance, the sky was a bright purple-blue with the long rays cast by the setting sun dipping below the horizon. Kyle wiped the sweat off of his forehead with the back of his hand, still trying to catch his breath from the back-breaking work of rotating the crates. Slim and Rusty were equally sweaty, and even Slim's mouth was tired, to everyone’s relief. Ariana, to both Slim and Rusty's amazement, wasn't sweating one bit. In fact, she looked positively radiant in the dying sunlight, her skin like porcelain, her short black hair rippling in the crisp ocean breeze. Kyle was enormously grateful for her help in the cargo bay earlier; long after he'd utterly exhausted himself, she'd picked up the slack, using her enormous strength to push the crates by herself while he just pretended to push.
The strong breeze felt marvelous on Kyle's hot, sweaty skin, and he closed his eyes for a moment to enjoy it. Then he glanced at Rusty and Slim.
“What now?” he asked.
“Now we eat,” Rusty answered. Kyle's stomach growled immediately; they'd snacked a bit while working in the cargo hold, but Kyle hadn't had a full meal since breakfast.
“Don't we eat downstairs?” Ariana asked. They'd had breakfast and lunch in the mess hall below deck earlier. Rusty shook his head.
“You're eating with the officers tonight,” Rusty corrected. “The Captain and Grotes want to speak with you.”
“What do they want with a bunch of kids?” Slim asked.
“Don't know,” Rusty replied with a shrug. “I was just told to bring them to the Captain's quarters for dinner.” He gestured for Kyle and Ariana to follow him to the two-story cabin, and they navigated through the corridors and stairwells until they arrived before the door to the Captain's quarters. The door itself was impressively ornate, with intricate designs carved into its red-hued wood. Rusty knocked on the door three times, then waited. A few moments later, the door opened, revealing Grotes. The First Mate opened the door wide, gesturing for Kyle and Ariana to come in.