by Kyle West
“I . . . remember going to bed. And after that . . . this.”
“What about dinner?” Kieron asked. “Do you remember that?”
“Of course,” she said. “The Accounting Feast in the meeting hall.”
“No, dear,” Julia said. “That was the day before yesterday. Are you saying the last thing you remember was going to bed after that?”
Morgana nodded, wiping tears from her eyes. “What’s happened to me?”
“It must have happened last night after she had gone to bed,” Lucian said. “Like I said, Elder Erymmo will probably clear up any confusion about how it might have happened.”
“Kieron, please get Elder Erymmo. We haven’t a moment to lose.”
Kieron looked at Julia for a moment, as if questioning that, but in the end he nodded. He was out of the house within the moment.
The following silence was heavy. No one spoke, though Julia held her daughter as she cried, and moved her to her bed. Considering the possession, Lucian felt bad for the way he had treated Morgana. Her strange behavior made sense now. He didn’t understand exactly how possession worked, or how the Sorceress-Queen had been able to do it, but all he could remember was what Elder Erymmo had told him. Mind control worked by inflaming emotions, so she was probably inflaming whatever feelings Morgana had for Lucian into an inferno. But what could have been her purpose with that? Probably to get his guard down, to get him to tell her things that would help her find him. If that was true, then the Sorceress-Queen already knew far more than she should have.
Lucian wanted to apologize for his behavior, until he realized that Morgana probably didn’t remember anything of what had happened. The entire time he had spoken to her tonight, he had been speaking to the Sorceress-Queen. The thought made his skin crawl, and he had trouble believing it was real.
But he couldn’t get past how the Sorceress-Queen could control her in the first place. It had to have been through Morgana’s dreams – especially given that the last thing she remembered was going to sleep.
Of course, if that were true, it meant Morgana was a mage.
“Can you use magic, Morgana?”
Her eyes widened at that. “Why would you bring that up?”
“That’s only known to the family,” Julia said. “But yes. She has Emerged recently.”
“It’s the only way the Sorceress-Queen could have reached you,” Lucian said.
The door opened and two pairs of footsteps entered the house. Within a moment, both Kieron and Elder Erymmo were in the loft. The Elder looked very tired, his eyes hooded with exhaustion. But upon seeing Morgana sitting on her bed, crying, he became very alert.
He went to her. “Morgana? Would you look me in the eyes, please?”
Her eyes were still tear-filled, but to Lucian they seemed brown rather than violet.
Elder Erymmo nodded. “You seem to be fully yourself. But the time has come for your training, Morgana. We Elders have respected the wishes of your parents for some time, but now Kiro needs you more than ever.”
Morgana watched him for a moment and then nodded. “Okay. Whatever you need me to do.”
“Please, give Lucian and me a moment,” he said. “Will the rest of you wait here?”
“By all means,” Julia said.
Lucian followed the Elder outside to the stream. It was only once they stood by the running water that Elder Erymmo broke the silence. “Kieron told me what you said. Now, I need to know what Morgana heard while under possession. For whatever you told her, the Sorceress-Queen would have also heard.”
“Yeah, I figured that much.”
“I grossly underestimated the Queen. I supposed she would try to dream implant you, but I never thought she would do it to others. And to use Morgana, a mage who has barely manifested her powers, was a stroke of genius. What exactly did you tell her?”
“Only what was discussed at dinner last night. She knows that Fergus, Cleon, and I are leaving Kiro tomorrow to go wyvern hunting. The Sorceress-Queen also told me to meet her at the Deepfork, after she revealed herself to me.”
Erymmo frowned as he took in this news. “The Deepfork is a few days downrift from here. It seems she still believes she might convince you with her words.”
“Don’t worry,” Lucian said. “After everything, there’s no way I’m going to ever trust her.”
“While that’s good, she might not need your outright cooperation. If she believes you are going wyvern hunting, which I doubt, that would still lead you to the Snake Pass. It’s likely that she’s sending her men from the Greenrift straight there, in pursuit of you.”
“Where else could I possibly go? She thinks I’m the Chosen. And according to her, the Chosen’s fate is to seek all the Orbs and stop the fraying. And she says I need her to do that. I don’t want to admit it, but what if she’s right?”
Elder Erymmo whistled. “That’s a problem. If the Sorceress-Queen wants anything with the Orb of Psionics, it isn’t good. Of course, she would want you to think you need her. But it would be far better to find the Orb on your own, without her assistance. With Fergus, Cleon, and soon, Serah, I believe your chances are better than you realize.”
“There’s still the problem of how to outrun her if she really does have her airship.” Lucian sighed. “This is hopeless, isn’t it?”
“In truth? It might very well be. But do we have a choice but to try?”
Lucian laughed bitterly. “I should’ve never gotten on that shuttle.”
“If you hadn’t,” Erymmo said, “then who would be the one to find the Orbs?”
So, did Erymmo think he was the Chosen, too? The thought was enough to make him sick. He had never asked for this. But he could have stayed on Volsung. He had only himself to blame. The only thing under his control were the decisions here and now.
Tomorrow, he would be setting off on a quest across the face of Psyche. There was no other way to put it. He had to resign himself to that fact, as certainly as Fergus had done.
Erymmo watched him solemnly. “As it stands, the Sorceress-Queen knows you’re here.”
Lucian didn’t have to ask what that meant. They had to leave Kiro now.
19
Within the hour, Fergus was knocking on Elder Erymmo’s door, packed up and ready to go. It annoyed Lucian that Fergus seemed so fresh after getting no more than four hours of sleep.
Lucian was about to head out the door when he felt a hand on his shoulder.
“Wait a moment,” Erymmo said. “Or have you forgotten?”
The Elder went to the wall and grabbed the graphene shockspear. He held it reverently for a moment, before giving it to Lucian.
“It’s yours,” he said. “This was made by an old friend of mine, an accomplished Atomicist. He forged it directly from a carbon deposit on this world.”
Lucian assumed from Erymmo’s manner that his friend was long dead. “Are you sure?”
“Of course I am. He would have been glad for you to have it. Bronze or steel works fine, but graphene is best. Light. Strong. And it will never lose its sharpness. Kiro, for whom this village is named, was among the best. He learned Atomicism at the feet of Mallis herself.”
Lucian’s eyes widened at that. He had so many questions, but Fergus had already cleared his throat.
“Go,” Elder Erymmo said. “Remember everything I’ve taught you. And continue to train, to be the best you can be. Do that, and you will find your way.”
“Good luck here, Elder. Be safe.”
As he left, Lucian wished Elder Erymmo had been one of the Transcends at the Volsung Academy.
Shockspear in hand, he followed Fergus to the meeting hall. It was still too early for anyone else to be up. Once inside, Cleon was already there, heating a pot of stew. He stuck his finger inside and licked it.
“I hope you won’t do that on the trail,” Fergus grumbled. “It’s revolting.”
“Believe me,” Cleon said, “I’ve stuck it in much worse places.”
F
ergus’s mouth twisted with disgust. “You are truly vile. Only you among my watchmen can speak to his captain without even a modicum of respect.”
“That’s the thing, Captain,” Cleon said. “You need me for this, so you have no choice but to put up with me and my vile ways.” He licked his lips. “Stew is done. Can I pour you a bowl, Captain?”
He sat down at the bench. “Yes. And be quick about it.”
As they ate, Lucian noticed three packs of gear lined up against the wall. He had no idea which was his, but he was glad Fergus had taken care of the details. He didn’t have the first clue about what was needed to survive on this world.
All too soon, they finished their meals. Lucian tried to blink away his weariness. He would have fallen asleep, if not for Fergus standing, causing his bronze armor to clank.
“It’s time we left, men. I’d like to find Serah before the sun sets.”
“Sure thing, Boss.” Cleon stood with the aid of his bronze shockspear. For the first time, he seemed to notice Lucian’s weapon. “Hey. The old man gave you that?”
Fergus shook his head. “No respect.”
“Elder Erymmo did, yes,” Lucian said.
“Maybe you should let me or the captain have it. Until you learn the ropes, that is.”
Lucian gripped the spear tighter. “He gave it to me. It’s mine.”
Cleon shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
“We’re burning daylight,” Fergus said.
Cleon nodded. “My girl should be waiting for me at the gate. That is, if I didn’t tire her out too much last night.”
“We get it,” Fergus said. “You have sex. Congratulations.”
Cleon was about to get his own retort in when Lucian cut him off. “No more bickering or we’ll end up killing each other before the Queen can. Let’s not make the Elders regret their decision of putting us together.”
That made Fergus’s back straighten, while Cleon just rolled his eyes. “Please. They don’t trust us. We’re just their only chance.”
“We leave,” Fergus commanded, puffing out his chest. “Cleon, I would suggest donning your armor. The bronze, not the leathers.”
“Nah,” Cleon said, examining his fingernails. “That’ll only weigh me down.”
“Weak,” Fergus muttered. “Well, have it your way then, but a good set of armor can be the difference between life and death.” He turned to Lucian. “And you, Lucian?”
“I’m not used to wearing armor like that.”
“It’ll go light on you,” he said. “Being an Earther and all. And it’ll keep your strength up.”
“The clothes on my back will work well enough.”
Fergus shook his head. “Very well. Just know that I can’t protect you from every stray arrow or javelin. They fly faster and farther on this world.”
“Like bronze armor would stop a javelin,” Cleon scoffed. “It’s better to stand out of the way. Or use magic.”
“Magic will only be used at direst need. If the Sorceress-Queen or her Radiants are near, they can detect any fluctuation in the ethereal field. You will stream nothing more than wards unless I give the command. I am in charge here, and the chain of command will be adhered to.”
This time, no one raised any protest. They went to their packs, and Lucian waited for the other two to pick their packs before he took the remaining one. It was so heavy. The lessened gravity only meant it had to be stuffed densely. It might be they could make the entire journey to Dara without the need to resupply.
With a grim expression, Fergus took the lead, using the butt of his spear as a walking staff. Lucian looked at Cleon, who shrugged, before following him.
When they reached the village gate, a small gathering was there to see them off. It was still dark outside, almost pitch black. Fergus streamed a weak light sphere to float about a meter above his head, one just bright enough to see by.
“Stay within five meters of me at all times,” he said. “Otherwise, I can’t guarantee my ethereal concealment ward will cover you. And of course, it won’t fully protect against active magic streams. That’s why you don’t stream unless you’re told. At night, I’ll increase the strength of the ward, and you can stream safely then.”
“Aye-aye, Captain,” Cleon said, with a sarcastic salute.
At that moment, a beautiful woman with raven black hair approached Cleon, embracing him fully.
“Lydia, darling,” he said.
“I want to punch you right now.” She held him tighter, her eyes closed.
Cleon held her close as he stroked her hair. “Now, now, Lydia. If I could have it any other way, I would.”
“You rotting fool. You’re going to die out there and leave me all alone!”
When the woman pulled back, it seemed she did have a mind to punch him. And Cleon seemed ready to take it.
“I deserve that,” he said. “Lydia, I will move Cupid itself to get back to you.”
She shook her head. “You’ve made your choice.” When she turned her green eyes on Lucian, they were filled with pure loathing. As if she blamed him entirely for what was happening. What had Cleon told her? Probably things he shouldn’t have been saying.
“Just go,” she said.
Once she was gone, Fergus sidled up to Cleon. “You told her the truth?”
“She pulled it out of me, Fergus. Women’s intuition and all that.”
“Take five minutes to finish your goodbyes,” Fergus said. “Then, we leave for good.”
With that, the three men separated. Lucian found himself standing alone because he had no one to say goodbye to. He pretended to be busy checking the contents of his pack when a familiar face came up to him.
“Morgana.” Some of his fear from last night lingered. But when she looked at him, her brown eyes were lucid.
“I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d see you off. I . . . just wanted to apologize for everything. Even if I don’t remember it.”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
She reached for his hand, and Lucian allowed her to take it. “Elder Erymmo explained everything to me. Now, I’m to be the village’s newest mage.” She smiled weakly. “That’s not something my parents wanted. Still, I suppose it’s how I might best serve Kiro.”
“I’m sure you’ll make a good mage.”
She laughed. “Then you don’t know me at all. I will make a terrible watchman.” She watched him, sadly. “When you come back, maybe we can speak more.”
He knew he was expected to say something similar. But he just couldn’t lie to her.
“That probably won’t be happening, Morgana. Where we’re going is dangerous, and it might be a long time before we return.”
She came forward and kissed him lightly on the cheek. His eyes widened, but he didn’t stop her. She headed back to the village and was soon lost to the darkness.
“Well, look at you,” Cleon said, looking after Morgana. “You landed the prize fish, and now you’re leaving. Fate can play cruel tricks with us, eh?”
Lucian just ignored him and was grateful when Fergus joined them both.
“We’re wasting time.” He turned to the watchtower, cupping his hands. “Open the gates!”
Instantly, the gates opened inwardly, revealing the valley outside. Without even a backward glance, Fergus strode forward, where the Deeprift was already gray with the first hints of dawn. Lucian and Cleon followed the Captain, taking the first steps of a long journey.
20
Fergus set a fast pace. His legs were long, and his bronze armor and pack did nothing to weigh him down. Lucian was almost jogging to keep up.
Worse, the entire way was uphill. If the gravity were anything close to Volsung, Lucian would have been long dead. His pack was heavy even in the lower gravity.
As the sky brightened, Lucian could see Psyche’s rugged beauty. The sides of the Deeprift were like walls rising into infinity. Trails and clefts branched off from the main rift, while silvery cascades fell over the sides. That water, Lucian
saw, created a thick mist, through which golden light filtered to create multiple arcing rainbows.
Lucian couldn’t help but marvel, but to Fergus and Cleon, it was just another day.
Cleon started whistling. Fergus grunted, increasing the group’s pace.
Cleon called out. “You’re going to wear us all down when the air gets thinner!”
“I would have us beyond the Snake Pass by lunchtime.”
“Are you insane? We need to pace ourselves. What happens if we run into trouble on the way up? We’ll be too tired to lift our spears!”
At this warning, Fergus slowed down. “All right. A five-minute break.”
When Lucian looked down the rift toward the valley below, its caves and settlements were completely out of sight. They had been walking for several hours without so much as a pause. He took a deep pull from his canteen. He was grateful he hadn’t taken the armor. Fergus was breathing heavily, though it seemed he was good to go for a while longer.
“What’re you trying to prove, Captain?” Cleon asked. “We know you’re a big, strong man.”
“Serah may have moved on by now, and it seems that I’m the only one who cares,” Fergus said. “Frays rarely stay in one place for long, and it’s been two days since Lucian’s seen her.”
Two days? It felt like two weeks. As hard as it was to believe, he had only landed here three days ago.
Going up rather than down, Lucian found he didn’t recognize anything. The light was brighter today, perhaps because the mist was thinner than a few days back. Even if it was thinner, it was still impossible to see the top of the Deeprift. It had to be kilometers above them.
“All right,” Fergus said. “Let’s move.”
They didn’t make the Snake Pass by lunch. It was more like late afternoon, and Lucian was exhausted. He was worried Fergus might want to check out the pass itself, to see if Lucian’s story held up. But Fergus made no comment as they walked by the collapsed pass.
“Keep an eye out, men,” Fergus said. “If what Lucian said is any indication, they expect us to come this way.”