by Will Wight
He tried to speak, but he ended up in a violent fit of coughing.
The agony almost blacked him out again.
When his vision returned, the light was fading. From a diamond that Andel dangled over Calder’s chest.
His quartermaster stood over him, a White Sun medallion hanging from his fist. It had been glowing just a moment ago, which made Calder wonder if he was hallucinating. Andel had been a Pilgrim, but never one of their higher ranks. Never a Soulbound. He didn’t have a healing Beacon.
And he would never be wearing that relieved smile.
Two alchemists Calder didn’t recognize leaned over him, asking him questions that made no sense to his dazed mind. He only knew they were alchemists from their thick goggles and the aprons hanging down over their clothes.
A second later they were shoved aside by a cloud of frizzy hair.
Petal shoved her face in his, pulling his eyelids open, looking in one eye and then the other. She stared at him for a second like she thought he was an imposter.
Then she wailed and collapsed on his chest.
He thought the movement might open his wound, but once again, he felt less pain from his back than from the rest of his body. Only a slight tenderness, like from a long-healed bruise.
How long had he been out?
Foster gently pulled Petal back, smiling at Calder through his scruffy gray beard. He wore his reading-glasses so that he could see the glass container in his hand with its long fluted straw.
He placed the end of the glass tube into Calder’s mouth, and Calder drank greedily. It felt like it had been a month since he’d last had a taste of water, and he would have emptied the container if Foster hadn’t pulled it away.
With his mouth and throat wet, he tried to speak again. “How long?”
They all started to answer him, but he heard jumbled noise as though he listened from underwater. His ears woke up halfway through, just in time to hear Andel say:
“…before they catch us.”
“But you’ll be able to walk soon!” Petal shouted.
Calder winced at the pain in his ear. “Why are you screaming?”
The others looked at each other, and Calder realized that she had spoken normally. It had just sounded like she was yelling into his ear.
He tried to raise his hand to his ear only to find the cold touch of metal around his wrist. His hands were chained to the bed.
“There’s a good reason for this,” Petal said, but now her voice sounded more like a whisper. “But…stay calm, okay?”
“Take deep breaths, boy,” Foster commanded, but Calder wasn’t listening.
The chains around his wrists were causing him too much panic. What if none of this was real? It could be another dream, and Kelarac had caught him. He had to escape.
With one jerk, he snapped the chain holding his wrist to the bed.
And the metal arm of the bed bent too.
Calder looked at the damaged bed. He looked up at Petal, who gave an apologetic smile instead of looking surprised. Then he moved to Andel.
The quartermaster had regained his normal, impassive look. “Would you like the good news first, or the bad news?”
“How bad can it be?” Calder asked. “I’m not dead.” His voice was starting to improve, which was faster than he’d expected.
“Bad news it is. You’ll be on a tightly controlled regimen of elixirs, potions, and supplements most likely for the rest of your life. Otherwise your bones will snap, your body will fill with cancerous tumors, and your eyeballs will pop like bubbles.”
Petal’s brow furrowed and she looked over to him. “Eyeballs?”
“You can’t say for sure it won’t happen.”
Petal considered for a moment, then shrugged and nodded.
Calder waited for the good news, but when Andel didn’t seem inclined to say anything else, Calder prompted him. “And the good news is that you only restrained me with cheap tin?”
“More bad news first. The bad news is that you’re not technically a Champion.” Andel held up a hand. “I know, it’s outrageous. It’s unfair. They have requirements regarding training and the nature of your Soulbound, none of which you meet.”
The shattered chain dangled from Calder’s wrist. For the first time, he noticed the gold crown symbol on the aprons of the two alchemists busying themselves in the background.
His eyes grew so wide that they actually hurt.
When he remembered Andel’s words about his eyeballs, he blinked rapidly. “So I’m…I mean, this is…”
Petal swiped more tears away. “You almost died. But it worked!”
“The Emperor’s armor kept you on this side of the grave,” Foster explained. “We needed you to be strong enough to survive removing it, and Petal had kept on with her research on borrowing the power of a Champion. We tried a temporary potion, but the armor fought against it. So we went all the way, and Andel healed you up so you survived the process.”
Andel was slipping the silver chain around his neck. “I only had to embrace the power of an organization I abandoned years ago, thus making myself a wanted fugitive of the Luminian Order for the rest of my life. Don’t let my crisis of faith and personal sacrifice cause you any guilt.”
Calder let his eyes close for another moment.
Kelarac had laced his lies with truth. He had almost died, and would have had he not been preserved by the Emperor’s armor.
But his friends and allies had rescued him and were already saving his life.
Kelarac would have woken up in Calder’s body with the addition of superhuman strength. And no one would have suspected a thing.
Calder shivered and opened his eyes.
“You all…”
Tears sprang to his eyes, but he wasn’t the least bit ashamed. “I don’t deserve you,” he whispered.
Petal cried with him and Andel smiled slightly. Foster barked out a laugh.
“You’re not a real Champion, remember that. I might not be able to beat you in arm wrestling anymore, but Urzaia would still tie you in knots. Now get some sleep. We’re still a few days out from you walking without a crutch, and if the Regent finds you, the best we can hope for is you ending up in a Palace cell.”
“The Regent…” Calder said aloud.
Of course. Even without his body, if Shera had removed him, the Independents would have taken over the Capital.
“Tell me everything,” he said.
Over the next hour, they filled him in on the situation. They shared with him their plan: they were confident they could get aboard The Testament. It was under heavy guard, for fear of what the Lyathatan would do, but most of the troops defending it were part of the Imperial Guard.
They had transferred their loyalty to Jorin, but not eagerly. Foster was certain they could talk their way through.
And once they were on the ocean…well, the Independents didn’t control much outside the Capital. And the only ones who could catch them on the Aion Sea were fellow Navigators.
Calder wouldn’t be able to do much about the crack in the sky or the fate of the world, but at least he’d be alive and free.
By the end of their explanation, sleep had crept up on Calder. He let himself slip from consciousness clutching on to one thought: he wasn’t going to run.
He had a plan of his own.
Chapter Nineteen
Seek not the coming of the darkness which crawls, for his jaws will swallow the sun.
All that lives shall pass away, leaving only the darkness eternal.
His domain is death, and his wisdom is forbidden.
Seek him not.
—Sleepless prophecy
present day
Jerri had expected her call to be answered by a handful of Elderspawn that would cause enough chaos that she could find an opportunity to escape.
She had hoped for a more powerful Elder, but she knew those were in short supply. Even the Great Elders didn’t spend their stronger servants lightly.
/> So when the portal opened in her cell and Kelarac’s steel blindfold regarded her from the other side, she was paralyzed with shock.
She had spent many hours interacting with him without knowing his true identity, but that was no longer true. Jerri dropped to one knee the second her shock allowed.
“Great One, please allow me to—”
“That’s enough,” Kelarac said. He waved one gold-ringed hand. “I have gone to great expense to send you this opportunity. Now come to me. I have a task for you.”
“Gladly!” If Kelarac was speaking to her as an equal, then maybe she could serve as his envoy. He had always favored Calder, but she was more than willing.
“If I may ask, where are we going?”
She stepped into the void, where her feet were supported by a stone. As soon as she did, Kelarac’s image began to fade away like smoke.
“I will remain where I always have. You will be coming to me.”
The void spat Jerri out onto an island in the middle of the Aion Sea.
Perhaps “island” wasn’t the right word. It was more like a barge, a floating collection of debris that looked like it came from a crashed ship bound together by sticky, still-squirming tendons.
She had spent years of her life plotting courses across the Aion, but she couldn’t even guess where she was at the moment. There was nothing but water no matter where she looked. Maybe when the stars came out, she would be able to estimate their location.
But if this was where the image of Kelarac had taken her, she knew what she was waiting for.
And she didn’t have to wait long.
She dropped to a knee again as a shadow approached her from beneath the ocean. The water darkened before her as far as she could see, as though a cloud had passed across the sun.
Her excitement and terror matched each other, reaching a fever pitch so she could no longer tell where one ended and the other began. For the second time in her life, she was about to come face-to-face with the true form of a Great Elder.
The air around her shook like a building in an earthquake and her barge slid on uncertain waves. She was terrified in the best, most thrilling way.
When Kelarac finally showed himself, she found herself shivering.
It was like watching an island rise before her eyes. The water bulged upward, sliding off of the bulk that revealed itself from beneath. Water streamed down in deafening waterfalls.
Kelarac’s body was bronze and craggy as though he were an impossibly intricate statue. Moss and barnacles stuck to his sides, and his full shape was so incomprehensibly massive that it took her mind a long time to put together what her eyes were telling her.
What was in front of her was a head seemingly made of dull bronze. Its snout came to a rounded point, and she had to see silvery, triangular teeth before she recognized the shape: she was looking at a shark’s head.
The rest of the silhouette crested the surface, and she saw fins spreading out to the sides. A dorsal fin the size of a tower unfolded from his back; it had been tucked away before so it wouldn’t break the surface, but now it spread over Kelarac like a sail.
Across his eyes, or where his eyes should be, was a blindfold of steel large enough to cover several ships. Spots of rust decorated its surface, and it was pierced through by two iron nails, each driven into where she assumed the eyes would be.
The nails must be bigger than The Testament’s mast, and now that she looked, she could see at least two more, both driven through the pectoral fins and extended deep into the water.
It wasn’t much of a guess to think that there would be three more such nails driven through his body. The seven spikes of the Blackwatch. These might have been the originals.
Jyrine’s heart pounded, and she lowered her head in the presence of the Soul Collector.
His mouth didn’t move as he spoke, but his words shook the water around her barge.
“OUR FIRST PLAN HAS FAILED.”
“I do not mean any disrespect, Great One, but…what happened to Calder?”
Kelarac’s growl was like a roar. “I OFFERED TO SAVE HIM AND HE REFUSED ME.”
To save him?
Regret, grief, and a frustrated anger warred within her.
How had Kelarac attempted to save him? Was he dead?
Why hadn’t he listened to her? He should have at least given Kelarac a chance. It wasn’t as though he had never bargained with the Soul Collector before.
Now he was gone…and with him, their best chance for productive peace with the Elders.
Jerri bowed her head once again. She’d thought she was prepared for this next part, but now that the moment had come, she hoped there was another way.
“I come to serve. Do you require…a vessel?”
She should have enough connection to the Great Ones. She had known for years that they might need to inhabit her body in order to complete their work, but she had never considered it as a real possibility until recently.
No matter how frustrated she was, no matter how disappointed in humanity, it was still difficult to offer herself.
“I DO NOT,” Kelarac said, and she breathed easily again. “THE POWER THAT COMES WITH MANIFESTATION IS NOT WORTH THE VULNERABILITY. NOT TO ME. FROM YOU, I REQUIRE A MORE VALUABLE SERVICE.”
She straightened her back, burning with eager hope.
“THERE IS AN ENEMY BEYOND THIS WORLD WHO SEEKS TO DESTROY IT. I WILL PREVENT HIM, BUT I REQUIRE ASSISTANCE.”
“Give me your instructions, Great One. I am eager to serve.”
“I WILL SEND YOU TO THE CRAWLING SHADOW. YOU WILL AWAKEN HIM.”
With a nauseating twist of space, something popped into being in front of Jerri. It hovered above the ground, a chunk of pulsing gray-green flesh, and it seemed to whisper a song that she could almost hear…
“YOUR YOUNG READER OF MEMORY BARTERED THIS TO ME. I HAVE RESTORED ITS POWER.”
Indeed, the Heart of Nakothi looked healthier than the last time she’d seen it. It swelled with strength like a ripe fruit, and it oozed with dark liquid.
“NOW, THE ESSENCE OF NAKOTHI WILL GIVE US LIFE.”
Jerri took the heart in her hands and bowed, honored by his trust…but there was much she didn’t understand.
If he could bring a Great Elder back to life, why hadn’t he done it himself? Why hadn’t they risen five years ago, shortly after the Emperor had died? Why now?
Sensing her thoughts, he spoke once more. “THIS WAS NOT THE PRIZE I WANTED. FOR THOUSANDS OF YEARS, I WORKED TO AVOID THIS.” His teeth flashed, and he twisted in a way a shark shouldn’t be capable of, as though turning to indicate the crack in the sky.
“URG’NAUT IS A DANGEROUS ALLY. HE WILL SEEK THE END.”
Her fingers shook around the wet Heart of Nakothi, but she appreciated even the little explanation she had been given. He had been considerate of her…oddly so.
He valued her. He trusted her.
“Great Kelarac…I will not let you down.”
“YOU MUST DECIDE,” he said gravely. “IF YOU OBEY MY WILL, YOU WILL BRING CHAOS AND DEATH TO YOUR KIND. FOR NOW. BUT IN THE END, YOU WILL INHERIT OUR POWER AND OUR KNOWLEDGE TO REBUILD A GLORIOUS GOLDEN AGE SUCH AS THE WORLD HAS NEVER SEEN.”
He didn’t just trust her, she realized. He needed her. He needed her to make a decision of her own free will.
There were many theories about Kelarac passed among the Sleepless. Why did he make deals with mortals? Surely he could take whatever he wanted. And how could the possessions of humans tempt him anyway?
Moreover, why did he honor his bargains? His lies would be impossible to discern from the truth.
It was generally agreed that what he sought—or perhaps what he needed—was the willing cooperation of humans. He didn’t want their belongings, he wanted their hearts.
Their souls.
And now he wanted her.
She had prepared for this her entire life, but it was still a heavy choice. She would be knowingly plunging the entire Empire in
to a second Elder War…but one with only two active Regents and no Emperor.
It would be a massacre.
But afterwards, the Elders would leave. They would be gone from this world, and they would leave her behind to lead in their name.
She could guide the world forward…and everyone would see that she had been right all along. Her father would have died for a purpose. Her life would not have been lived in vain. No, she would be known as a hero that rescued the world from the brink.
The Great One was waiting for her response, so she looked into where his eyes should be. “Sometimes you have to bring pain,” Jerri said. “For their own good.”
“GOOD!” The word was so loud it shook the heavens and the waters.
Her barge drifted up on a column of seawater, remaining surprisingly steady until she floated at eye level. Suddenly, a gleaming emerald light flashed in front of her.
She would recognize the jewel even if her eyes were shut. It was her Soulbound Vessel.
“NOW, I SEND THEE FORTH…MY HIGH PRIESTESS OF THE VOID.”
The green light shot forward, stabbing into her forehead.
The heat spread through her entire body, but it didn’t hurt. It was as though she was being burned down and rebuilt in its flames. Reforged.
Reborn.
The Capital was in such chaos that it was easy for the crew to travel with no one recognizing them.
At least for most of them. Not for Calder.
The former Steward of the entire Empire was packed away in a crate in the back of a small wagon, which came to a stop so often that Calder wished he could get out and pull instead of the mules.
Jorin, it turned out, had ordered an evacuation of the Capital’s citizens. His official explanation suggested that the city was no longer safe and emergency shelters had been prepared in outlying regions.
Calder wasn’t sure he trusted any of that.
Down through the city to the docks took most of the day, and he knew from experience that the Guard would have all exits well-defended. They wouldn’t be stopping people from fleeing, but from boarding a ship where they didn’t belong.