by Roxie Ray
Zark pushed me behind him and picked up his rifle, looking like he was about to make a brave last stand.
But no. The outlaws ignored us entirely – instead, they formed a circle around the flaming heap that had once been Zurum, rubbing their hands over it for warmth.
“Come on,” Zark muttered. “Let's get the hell out of this ghastly place, and never come back.”
“Sounds good to me.” I took his arm, following him back to the shuttle.
As Zark steered the shuttle up through Egone's atmosphere and toward the gaseous clusters that hid the Angel's Wrath, I watched another glowing flare arc through space. This time, though, it was far away from us, and I was able to admire its fierce and iridescent beauty.
With it came an unsettling thought: If it had lanced out at us instead of away from us, it could reduce us to glittering ashes just like the bomb had done to Zurum. And we'd be powerless in the face of such raw natural fury, unable to do a thing about it. It would be inevitable. We'd be gone, and the universe would be utterly indifferent. Compared to that, Torqa and the other dangers facing us seemed small.
Sometimes, the sheer immensity of the cosmos surrounding me was almost enough to drive me irretrievably crazy. I wondered whether I'd ever feel Earth under my feet – whether life would ever make sense to me again.
When the shuttle was back in the docking bay, I followed Zark down the ramp. “What's our next move? How are we going to find Torqa now?”
“I don't know.” From the tone of his voice, I could tell how irritated he was with himself. “I feel like I'm chasing a ghost. Worse than that, I know your abilities can be used to find her, but I can’t figure out just how to do so yet. It's as if the galaxy has dropped the most powerful gun ever crafted right into my lap, and I don't even know which end to point at something, let alone how to pull the damn trigger.”
“Well, thanks for that,” I quipped. “If there's one thing women love, it's being compared to inanimate objects.”
He stopped in his tracks, and then turned to look at me quizzically.
“What?” I asked.
“'Inanimate objects,'” he mused quietly. “Hmm. There might be something to that.”
“What do you mean?”
“Do you suppose,” he asked breathlessly, “you might be able to find someone if you held an object that once belonged to them, or stood in a space that they'd spent a great deal of time in?”
I searched my memory. Could I do that?
On Earth, my clairvoyance had been extremely limited and sporadic. Out here in space, it seemed like all bets were off – the images and impressions I received were much more frequent, and more vivid than they'd ever been.
What could possibly account for such a sudden and drastic change? Cosmic rays? Witchcraft? Solar radiation, like the flares from the gas clouds? All those theories seemed like silly science fiction, but then, I was standing next to an extraterrestrial vampire – clearly, the universe was a much stranger place than I'd ever given it credit for.
For all I knew, it could even have been Zark's presence. I hadn't experienced nearly as many of these flashes during my time on Cexiea. Maybe my powers had been waiting my whole life for him to show up, so they could kick into high gear and I could help him find Torqa and the book. Maybe all that stuff about fate and destiny wasn't just malarkey after all. Maybe we were meant to find each other.
Maybe… we were even meant to be together?
I shook my head, trying to clear it. All this theorizing wasn't helping with the task at hand.
“It's… difficult to say,” I began. “I mean, I've never done it before, but it might be possible. My abilities have been getting a lot stronger over the past day or so.”
He grinned, taking my hand. “Come with me.”
Zark led me back to the area of the ship where the crew had been quartered, stopping in front of a specific door and opening it. “This was the cabin that Torqa was assigned to whenever she was aboard. Do you see anything? Sense anything?”
I looked around the room, trying to open myself up to whatever wanted to show itself to me. The place seemed identical to the other cabins I'd been in on the ship.
After a few seconds, vague figures started to appear – Valkredian warriors, almost too faint to make out, their faces blurred. Still, one of them managed to stand out: A female, holding an object that glowed so brightly I could barely look at it.
“I think I can see Torqa, at least a little bit,” I said, squinting. “She's barely there, but her presence is… pretty damn forceful.”
“That certainly sounds like her,” Zark replied with a nod. “Does she have the book?”
“I think so.” The thing she was holding didn't seem to have the dimensions of a book, though. In fact, the more I tried to pin down its shape, the more it seemed to shift and change. “I don't think what I'm seeing is the book itself. More like… the raw energy inside of it. I'm not even really sure it is a book, in the way most people would understand that term. It's like that's the shape it takes, because our senses aren't capable of perceiving its true form.”
“How can you tell that?”
I wasn't sure. Actually, I almost didn't recognize the words as they came out of my mouth. How could I come up with an idea like that? What the hell did I know about magic space books?
Then I realized where these thoughts were coming from, and how they'd gotten into my head.
“I can't,” I whispered. “It's her. It's Torqa. Those were her thoughts while she was examining the book. She was trying to learn more about its true nature so she could find a way to use it.”
Zark nodded impatiently. “That makes sense. But where is she now? Does she currently have the book with her?”
I flailed inwardly, uncertain of how I could determine something so specific from a collection of barely-discernible shapes. All of my impressions seemed confined to this room. Was there some way I could hit a fast-forward button in my mind and track her path? Or expand my view to get a larger sense of the galaxy and find her that way?
The harder I tried, the more frustrated I became, and the more my head hurt. I watched the blur that was Torqa walk out of the room… and fade into nothingness as soon as she stepped into the corridor.
“It's no use,” I said through gritted teeth, massaging my temples. “I can't get a sense of anything outside this cabin.”
Zark paced for a few moments, thinking this over carefully. Finally, he said, “Torqa hasn't been on this ship since the Mana peace talks, and that was quite some time ago. Before she was exposed as a traitor, she spent a great deal of time on the Valkredian home world. So what if you were someplace she occupied more recently? Perhaps your impressions of her might be sharper, and you'd be able to track her from there?”
I shrugged. “I mean, I can't exactly promise anything, but that could work, yeah. Worth a shot, anyway, right?”
He smiled beatifically, grabbed me by the shoulders, and kissed me. I could feel his hope and happiness radiating through me like a warm ocean wave.
“Miranda,” he exclaimed, “go to your quarters and get plenty of rest – you'll require all of your faculties for the task ahead. I shall set a course for my home planet at once, and when we arrive, my brother the Blood Ruler will give you a royal welcome!”
9
Zark
Once Miranda had returned to her quarters to sleep, I strode to the command deck of the Wrath, whistling cheerfully.
True, I had hoped she'd be able to give me more immediate answers based on what she saw in Torqa's former cabin – but at least there was a solid chance that she'd find what we were looking for on Valkred.
It was a source of hope, at any rate. More hope than I'd dared to entertain in many moon cycles, as the curse grew stronger and my time ran out, each lead I’d chased down having been exhausted.
It might not be too late. I might still have a chance.
All thanks to her.
I flopped down into the command chair
, dangling my leg over its arm as I'd always done. Then I punched the coordinates for Valkred into the navigational computer, feeling the subtle shift in momentum as the Wrath's engine core propelled us through space at speeds faster than light.
The trip wouldn't take long. Until then, I could relax, try to take my mind off the damned curse…
Suddenly, the ship's holo-imaging communication system came to life, projecting a tall, glowing humanoid figure standing right in front of me.
I frowned, hitting the keys to run a diagnostic. Was the system malfunctioning? Had someone managed to hack into it somehow? What in the name of all the Succubi was going on?
The computer responded blandly: All systems were operating normally.
Was I having some bizarre vision? After eleven moon cycles of keeping my horrible secret and feeling my life slip just that much farther out of my reach, had I buckled under the pressure, at last? Was I finally “cracking up,” as the Earthlings say?
Then the shimmering form came into focus – and oh, how I wished I had been dreaming or hallucinating it after all.
“Salutations, Zark,” the ghostly Lunian image intoned solemnly.
“Respen. How did you seize control of the Wrath's comm array?”
Respen raised an eyebrow. “Take care not to insult me further, Valkredian. You imply violation and ill intent where there was none. I ‘seized control’ of nothing, as you understand the phrase. Rather, I merely allowed your systems to project my essence, as a moon projects the light of the sun. It seemed like the most expeditious method of speaking with you. Especially since your current mission wouldn't afford you adequate time to make a detour to Yuluna.”
“I see. How thoughtful of you. And how did you know where to find me?”
“I am Lunian,” he answered simply. “What we seek, we find.”
“Well, that's tremendously convenient for me, then,” I retorted, lacing my hands behind my head and evoking a relaxed and conversational tone. The truth was, the sight of the gaunt sorcerer made my heart feel like it would freeze in my chest. “If you're so damn good at finding things, you can just tell me where the book is, so I can return it to you and we can end this silly charade.”
Stop provoking him, you fool, my mind warned me.
But instead of displaying anger, Respen smiled placidly. “Were those the conditions of the curse, insolent prince? That you need only ask me where the book is located? Or did I specify that you must do whatever it takes to find it on your own, in order to redeem yourself?”
I sighed. “Do you even hear yourself? What is the point of this useless exercise? You want the book, you know how to find it, so why involve me at all?”
“Is that how you now choose to remember the events that led us both to this? That I ‘involved you?’ I seem to remember you coming to my home, confessing to stealing my property, and agreeing to accept whatever punishment I deemed worthy in order to spare your comrades from the ire of the Lunians. Has my memory failed me in this regard?”
It took all of my effort not to gnash my teeth at him. These damned Lunians and their endless philosophical questions! Dealing with them was maddening even in the best of circumstances – and here I was, fighting for my life, while this smug bastard stood and smirked!
“Then why not simply end my life and get it over with?” I demanded. “Why put us both through this? Why steal a year of my life, my peace of mind, just to force me to conduct this absurd search?”
Respen folded his arms and cocked his head at me. “There is a story on Yuluna, of a great seer and his young apprentice. One day, while cleaning his master's possessions, the pupil was not paying attention to what he was doing. He carelessly broke an irreplaceable artifact of tremendous power and value. It was beyond repair, and the student was beside himself with guilt… terrified of the high price the seer would exact for such recklessness. He threw himself upon the mercy of his master, promising to do whatever it took to make things right. The seer considered this, and then offered the pupil one chance to return to his master's favor: He tasked the young man with walking to the cobalt dunes of Azuur'a, retrieving a single grain of sand from them, and bringing it back to the seer. The student was perplexed, but he did as he was told. To reach the dunes, he walked for ten days across harsh terrains… mountains, jungles, deserts, and wilderness. He slept on the hard ground, in the cold and the rain, finding food and water where he could. When he reached Azuur'a, he picked up a grain of the blue sand, then walked another ten days back to the home of his master. He was certain that the seer intended to use the sand in some obscure ritual – perhaps even to magically restore the artifact that had been broken. But do you know what the seer did with the grain of sand?”
I know what I'd like you to do with this story, and that's shove it up your narrow, glowing…
“He looked at it, nodded, and then threw it in the dust bin,” Respen continued. “The pupil was, understandably, quite shocked and confused. He asked why his master had sent him on such an arduous quest, only to discard the very tribute he had demanded. The seer replied, ‘The journey was the tribute.’ Do you see now?”
“Yes, I see,” I snapped. “I see that you've projected your aura across hundreds of light years, just to tell me a bunch of fables. Well, if you like stories, I've got a great one about a Drekkir prostitute and a Jaarvian Fire-Bear with dysentery that'll have you laughing for days.”
“I did not arrange this conversation to exchange stories,” Respen said. “I did it merely to remind you that you have twenty sun cycles left to find and return the book before the curse claims your life.”
I balked. “You really thought I needed to be reminded of that?”
The Lunian smiled again. “I thought that seeing me deliver the reminder to you personally might help you recall the details of our last meeting, and incentivize you with a certain… urgency. Despite all of your bluster and posturing, I can see that I was correct. Twenty sun cycles, Zark of Valkred. That can be a lot or a little, depending on how you plan to avail yourself of them. Farewell.”
And with that, Respen's image flickered out of existence… just as the doors to the command deck swished open and Miranda entered, rubbing her eyes.
“Hey, Zark, are you okay?” she asked with a yawn. “You look like you've just seen a…”
She stopped mid-sentence, staring at the area where Respen had been standing moments before.
“That space wizard you were talking about,” she said firmly. “Respen. He was just here, wasn't he? Or at least, part of him was.”
“Yes! Yes, he was!” I ran over to her, hoping against hope. “What impressions do you get from him? He hinted that he knows where the book is, or that he'd know how to find it if he wanted to, at least… can you sense that anywhere in his thoughts? Anything that might help us?”
Miranda stood for a long moment, her face scrunched up as she concentrated.
“It's hard to read,” she murmured. “I can still see him – or his aura, anyway – but it's like staring into the sun. He does know where the book is. He's never lost track of it, or of your search for it. But… there's more to it than that.”
“What does that mean?” I blurted out, exasperated.
I could see the muscles in Miranda's jaw twitching with effort as she clenched her teeth, trying to concentrate. “His mind is too powerful. I can't get any details from it. He's not even trying to block me from finding them – he doesn't need to, they're just naturally obscured by the intensity of his energy. Still, I get the sense that no human… no, no one of any race has ever gotten this close to probing his thoughts before. He's amused by it. Intrigued.”
“That's fascinating, Miranda, but I don't need to know what he's thinking about you. I need to know…”
“…what he's thinking about the book, yeah, I get it,” she growled. “You'll need to bear with me. This isn't exactly like reading the fucking funny pages, you know.”
Funny pages? I didn't have time to wonder what she was r
eferring to. Some arcane Earth nonsense, no doubt.
“I'm not getting anything specific,” she went on, “but from what I am getting, it seems like he believes what you think you know about the book is wrong… or at least, incomplete. There's something else behind this. Something that's a lot bigger than you and Torqa. Something that he's been preparing for… for centuries, maybe even longer.”
“What? What does that mean?”
She tried for a few more moments, and then gave up with a sigh and slumped, her arms flopping down at her sides. “That's it. That's all I could do. I'm sorry.”
My frustration was enough to make the blood boil in my veins, but I knew it wasn't her fault. “It's fine. You did your best. Thank you. I know how difficult this must be for you.”
She shrugged helplessly. “I just wish I could do more for you. I don't need to be clairvoyant to know how worried you are about the curse. ”
I carefully considered the clues her visions had yielded, trying to make sense of them. But the puzzle pieces didn't seem to fit – or perhaps I simply wasn't clever enough to put them together. I knew if I had just a bit more information…
“How certain are you of the things you sensed from him?” I finally asked.
“I wish I could tell you that I'm a hundred percent certain of everything I perceive, but that's not how these ‘gifts’ of mine seem to work,” she replied. “I mean, it always feels like there's a central truth to them… something huge and undeniable at work, pointing me in the right direction. And they've always panned out. Just not always in ways I've understood or expected. Like sometimes, what I'm seeing isn't what's reality so much as it is how people remember things, or what they believe. It's hard for me to separate the two. In fact, most of the time, these visions of mine only make sense after the fact.” She sighed heavily. “Again, I'm so sorry. I know how much you wanted me to be some kind of magic map that would just lead to you Torqa. I wish I could do that for you, I really do.”