by Chris Fox
Aran’s hand tightened around Narlifex, and the sword pulsed its smoldering anger. It was so frustrating dealing with unknown enemies. He turned to Nara. “There can’t be that many beings capable of destroying a full planet. You’re the only one of us who’s met Talifax, and from what I understand he’s a god in his own right. Do you think it was him?”
“He’s the leading suspect.” Nara shivered at the mention of his name, but her resolve seemed unshaken. “It’s also possible it could have been an unknown, or even a player like Malila. We have no idea what her ultimate motivations are, after all.”
“Good point.” Aran nodded. “I wouldn’t have even considered her as a candidate, but she might have the raw power, and she has no love for Ternus after our visit.”
Voria’s countenance hardened, though Aran could sense the turbulence underneath. Something was bothering her, even more than what had happened at Ternus. He considered asking, but waited to see if she’d volunteer the information.
After a few moments though, the major—he still thought of her that way—reached back and touched her bun, the radiant life energy surging just a bit as she did. “I haven’t told you the worst of it. After Ternus…well, that was all the justification Governor Austin needed to declare full war on the sector’s Catalysts. He began with Marid, citing that it is a Ternus colony, and therefore their property.”
“Wait, but Drakkon is there. There’s no way that…” Aran trailed off as he saw the sorrow in all three expressions. Even Pickus seemed to have been impacted. “Is Drakkon dead?”
“No, thank the goddess,” Voria explained. She shook her head sadly. “The black ships drained most of the water Catalyst there, and as I understand it Marid was incredibly powerful. They drained a lot of magic. I was able to siphon some, and Drakkon did as well, but the bulk of it belongs to our enemies now. And I don’t say enemies lightly. Ternus considers us as viable targets to drain; of that I have no doubt. They’d love to get their hands on my life magic, or Inura’s.”
Aran shuddered at the thought. The mirror spun again, and he glanced at its shining surface as it passed. He could feel its siren song calling to him, daring him to connect and probe its secrets. He stubbornly refused to give in. If Eros had struggled with this thing, who knew what damage he could do using it?
“I don’t doubt it,” Aran muttered. He shifted his attention to Voria. “And this makes waking Virkonna even more important. We need her, and we need Inura. Without them…”
Nara reached out a hand, and rested it briefly on Aran’s shoulder. She squeezed it, and looked him in the eye. “We’ll get them. I have to believe that.”
“Well, we’d better,” Pickus broke in with a nervous laugh. “’Cause after seeing Krox I don’t even want to know how bad this Nefarius chick is.”
Voria waved a hand in front of the mirror, and it resolved into a view of Virkon. “I can sense Inura on this world, somewhere. Unfortunately, I’m going to need to play nice with Olyssa. I’ve agreed to attend one of her blasted parties. I thought it best so I can take the measure of our possible allies.”
Aran was mildly surprised that she was willing to explain this much of her plan. He’d expected her becoming a goddess to make her more uptight, but the opposite seemed to have happened.
Voria suddenly cocked her head as if hearing a voice none of them could. Then she shook her head with a sudden smile. “I am not telling him that. Aran, Shaya has great admiration for your accomplishments.”
“Shaya?” Aran raised an eyebrow.
“The shade of Shaya was left behind to guide me, apparently. She’s very, ah, colorful, but also wonderfully informative.”
“Like the shade of Inura,” Aran realized aloud. He turned to Nara. “Speaking of, that seems like the best starting place. Can you remember how to get back to the place where you found the Spellship?”
She nodded and brushed her hair from her face. “I was thinking the same thing. We can get there quickly, and if Inura is there we can ask him to meet with Voria. If not, at least we can speak to the shade and see if we can’t glean his whereabouts.”
“It’s as good a plan as any.” Voria heaved a put-upon sigh as she gazed at the mirror. “I have a feeling you’ll have more fun traipsing through caverns than I will at this party.”
29
Back to Normal
Aran met Nara in the predawn chill hanging over the outskirts of the town where Astria lived. The cobblestone streets would have been at home in some ancient society on a primitive planet, as would the squat adobe buildings. These people lived with almost nothing, all under the shadow of fear brought by their draconic masters.
“This way,” Nara whispered as she started down a steep hillside toward a narrow crevice in the rock that Aran hadn’t noticed.
He noted that she didn’t use magic, so he followed her lead. He hopped nimbly down the slope, which his spellarmor made trivial even without gravity magic. Nara nearly faded out of sight as she entered the shadowed crevice, and he struggled to keep track of her as he followed.
“Does that suit have some sort of stealth magic?” he whispered once they were safely inside the cavern.
Nara raised a hand and clipped a halogen light to her collar. “I haven’t fully puzzled out how it works, but it’s a very subtle magic designed to make the eye slide off. I don’t think it will attract any of the snakes down here.”
“Snakes?” Aran asked, more in interest than fear.
“All sorts of primals are drawn to Virkonna,” Nara explained as she picked an unerring darkness over the gravel-strewn path. Theirs weren’t the first sets of footsteps, but they were the first in a while. “The smallest are simple snakes, but the older ones are massive, and there are drakes besides.” She gave a soft laugh, but didn’t elaborate.
“What’s funny?” Aran called softly as he crept after her. “And why aren’t we using any magic?”
“What’s funny,” Nara explained with another soft laugh, “is how terrified I was the last time I came through here. So much has changed. We’re so much stronger, and the problems we had back then feel so trivial compared to what we’re facing now. As for magic, the primals are drawn to it, so if we avoid using it we should encounter far fewer. They shouldn’t be any sort of threat, but I figure why take chances?”
“Makes sense.” Aran fell into step next to her as the passage widened, and he stared up at the sloped ceiling, which disappeared into the darkness high above. He slowed, and realized that he felt something. Something immense. “Below us. Do you feel that?”
Nara paused, and gave a sympathetic nod. “She’s so powerful. I know we haven’t talked much about relative strength, but Voria’s is maybe ten percent of Virkonna’s? I guess it’s hard to know for sure.”
“It’s interesting being able to quantify a goddess.” Aran stepped over a boulder, and noticed a tiny blue snake that slithered under it. He had no doubt there were others he couldn’t see. “And I’d agree that Virkonna is the ‘heavy’. We’re going to need her to go toe-to-toe with Krox or Nefarius, I imagine.”
They walked a little further in silence, and the corridor widened into a true cavern even as it continued to slope down. Eventually Nara fell into step with him and they walked together in comfortable silence. It was the most normal things had been since the last time they’d been on Virkon.
“Aran?” Nara finally broke the silence, right after they’d paused to break out some rations. In this case, it was one of the protein bars they still had from the supplies that had been loaded onto the Talon when they’d taken possession of it. The chocolate chip cookie dough one wasn’t half bad, though he didn’t know what half those words were referring to.
“Hmm?” He set his helmet on the rock next to him, and ripped a mouthful off the end of the bar.
“What happened to you out there? I mean, if you can talk about it.” Nara eyed him sidelong, those brown eyes just as mesmerizing as ever. If only things could be different.
�
��I don’t know.” Aran popped the rest of the bar in his mouth, then crumpled the wrapper and put it into his void pocket. He didn’t speak again until he was done chewing, and he took his time at that. “We went inside Krox, and I used the ability that Xal gave me. I used it again when we were leaving Shaya and the Inurans ambushed us.”
Nara nodded, and neatly folded her own wrapper, then tucked it into a plastic bag, which she tucked into her void pocket. She looked up at him. “We got your warning about the Inurans in the depths. It sounded like you won that engagement, though. Did something go wrong?”
“Maybe.” He thought back to the feeling of exultation when he’d drawn the magic from the black ship. “I drank the magic from one of their ships in the same way they take it. And you should have seen the way the crew looked at me. I can’t blame them. How am I different than those black ships? And how is Xal really different from Nefarius? Is working for him going to end up in bringing a different evil, dominating god to power? And how do we put the power back in the hands of mortals? I’ve got a lot of questions, and very few answers.”
Nara gave a quick, musical laugh. “It feels like all we have are questions. I don’t have answers, not about your ability or about our role in things. More and more I think Malila was telling the truth. Xal was the one who put us into play, and ultimately I think we’re dancing to his tune. I just have no idea what that means.”
“Guess we just focus on one task at a time.” Aran rose with a stretch. “Shall we?”
She nodded, then shouldered her pack and started back up the trail, which threaded ever downward. “We’ll reach a large cavern soon. That’s where Wes and I had to use his pistols to distract them.” She chuckled, but Aran didn’t get the joke. “You had to be there I think.” Nara offered Aran a more playful smile, one he hadn’t seen in a long time. “I’m glad Voria sent us. It’s nice catching up. I know things are…tainted between us. But I’d like to think we’re still allies, and maybe friends.” The last word had a question in it, and it forced Aran to finally ask it.
Could they be friends? Or even more someday? Maybe, if they lived that long. Which seemed incredibly unlikely. May as well enjoy the time they had left.
“We’re definitely friends.” Aran nudged her with his elbow. “Plus I’ve seen you naked.”
Nara rolled her eyes. “I guess I walked into that one.” She smiled at least, and that brightened the situation.
30
Leave Me Be
Aran stared down into the belly of the world, a seemingly endless cavern that stretched off in all directions, supported by immense pillars of varying sizes, stalagmites and stalactites that had grown together over the eons when this world was forming.
“We’re beneath her, aren’t we?” he asked, staring up at the ceiling, which vaulted into darkness high above them. He could feel the low, deep siren song of Virkonna’s air magic.
Nara nodded, and her voice was small as she moved to stand at the edge of the cliff with Aran. “The facility we’re after was built to capitalize on that. They built it under Virkonna so her signature would mask it. I think Inura built the place after she went into torpor.”
She turned to face him, and her eyes widened slightly in a way Aran recognized. It usually meant she’d realized something that she considered obvious, though that was seldom the case.
“I think we can teleport from here,” she explained, gesturing toward the far end of the cavern, where it disappeared in the distance. “I can manage that far fairly easily, and it will be much faster than navigating our way through this mess. Are you ready?”
She raised a hand and Aran nodded. Nara deftly sketched a trio of void sigils, which quickly fused into a teleportation spell. The world warped and folded around Aran, and when it stopped he was standing in a narrow stone corridor quite unlike the rest of the caverns they’d passed through. This place had clearly been constructed, and the walls were lined with endless glyphs. They glowed with a faint inner light, and Aran could feel the magic in them—weak, but persistent.
“Are they wards?” he asked, bending to inspect the closest set.
“I don’t think so.” Nara inspected the same set, the glow painting her in a ghostly light. “I think they tell a story.”
“Indeed they do,” came a dry Inuran voice, the accent unmistakable. “I see you have returned. Welcome, Nara of the Confederacy, though I imagine that title might be outdated.”
Narlifex was out of his scabbard and in a guard position before Aran even realized what he was doing. The being before him looked human at first glance, but only at first glance. The leathery wings extending over his shoulders put the lie to that, as did the faint scales covering his skin. He looked much like Olyssa in her ‘human’ form, save that this being had what appeared to be real hair, long and white, with thin, fine strands.
“Shinura?” Nara straightened and faced the newcomer.
“Indeed.” Shinura gave Nara a low bow. “And I must thank you again for that moniker. I find that I very much enjoy having a real name.”
“Aran, this is the shade of Inura. I told you about him. We call him Shinura for short.”
Aran sheathed Narlifex and approached Shinura, who stood before a pair of double doors, which had apparently opened silently when he’d appeared.
“Be welcome, Hound of Xal.” Shinura executed a perfect bow, then gave a truly alarming smile, filled with the razored teeth he’d come to expect from Wyrms. “This is the crucible, and for the first time in millennia the forge fires are lit once more. The master has returned, and is crafting something marvelous.”
“Inura is here?” Aran found himself tensing, despite the fact that Inura was supposed to be an ally. Ternus was supposed to be an ally too, but look where that had gotten them.
Shinura nodded, then stepped through the double doors. “Please, follow me into the facility. I will guide you to the master.” The construct, if that’s what Shinura was, strode purposefully up the hallway, and into a workshop the likes of which Aran could scarcely have imagined.
Golden devices lined the first chamber, most set on large tables and surrounded by a dizzying array of tools he didn’t recognize. Nearly everything in the room glowed with some sort of enchantment, the most prevalent aspects being air and life, closely followed by the earth that had been used to construct the metallic parts.
“This way, please.” Shinura plunged between a final pair of tables, then through a doorway and into a corridor lined with golden walls. Every few moments a pulse of blue-white light veined across the walls, then disappeared.
The shade led them down the corridor, past several more rooms filled with experiments, and finally stopped outside a room not unlike the others, save that it was occupied. Two men stood next to a large stall, which had been erected to hold a stylized suit of mecha. The metallic knight glowed gold, and Aran could feel the potency of the magic wafting over him, barely contained by the armor.
The closest of the two men bore wings similar to Shinura. In fact, those wings were identical. Nor were they the only parts. The being before him looked, on the surface at least, like an identical twin to Shinura.
“Inura,” Aran called, plunging past Shinura, into the room with the mecha. He barely noticed the second man, until that man swept him up in a hug.
“Brother!” Kazon roared, his bushy beard scraping against the collar of Aran’s spellarmor as he lifted Aran into the air. “You are the last person I expected to see.”
“Kazon!” Aran returned the hug, then stepped back and took a look at the barrel-chested Inuran. Kazon’s beard was longer than it had been, but the coarse black hair had been combed into a tight knot just below the chin.
He wore robes of shimmering silver cloth, that seemed to catch the light around them, drinking it in rather than reflecting it. Aran wasn’t sure what magical properties the garment possessed, but he could feel the strength of it, though it was a tiny thing compared to the mecha, or to Inura himself.
In
ura hadn’t looked up from the mecha, and was deeply focused on a part near the knee, where he was using an unfamiliar golden tool to add life magic to the metal.
“Deal with them, Kazon,” the god muttered, though his attention never left the mecha.
“Please, we shouldn’t be in here,” Shinura said, wringing his long, delicate fingers. “If you’d like I can provide refreshment. This way.”
Shinura darted from the room, and Kazon began to follow, so Aran did as well. Nara looked as if she wanted to stay and speak to Inura, but reluctantly followed them back up the corridor and into a room with four small tables. Aran recognized the golden triangle with the little box beneath it…the food thingie, or some version of it.
Nara entered the room, and moved to sit with Aran. Her eyes moved continuously, the hawkish intelligence clear as she categorized everything. Nara could probably accomplish a lot with a facility like this, if anyone gave her the time. She said nothing of course, which was fairly typical in Aran’s estimation.
“Aran, it is so good to see you. How is my sister?” Kazon asked, as he slid into one of the seats. His grin hadn’t slipped a millimeter.
“She’s…well, she’s a goddess.” Aran could only shrug at that. “A goddess badly outclassed by the opposition, and in need of the kind of help only Inura can provide. We’re here to wake Virkonna, and to ask Inura to actually help for a change instead of lurking in shadows. Planets are dying. Ternus is…gone.”
“I know.” Kazon’s expression darkened, and guilt seemed to creep in. “It is true that Inura doesn’t appear to be doing much, and that by extension I am not either. I assure you, however, that is not the case. Inura’s work is of the utmost importance. This mech is his crowning achievement, and he believes we will need it if we are to triumph over our enemies. I don’t know what he intends, exactly, but I believe his urgency is sincere. Inura never stops running from task to task, as if his time is nearly over.”