by Kyle West
“She’s quick,” Cleon said.
She ignored him. “It’s said to be under a White World with red-whorl eye and a moon of violet, violent sky. It’s part of The Prophecy of the Seven.”
“Yes, that’s what Elder Jalisa said,” Fergus said. “We believe the Orb of Psionics is somewhere under the Eye of Cupid.”
“That would take you to the Burning Sands,” she mused. Her eyes went to Lucian and almost seemed to pity him. “That means you have to go through the Golden Vale and Dara, through the Pass of Madness, the Westlands, and finally, the Burning Sands.”
“Unless there’s another way,” Lucian said.
She shook her head. “The Pass of Madness is the only way from the Golden Vale to Psyche’s Planetside. The Mountains of Madness surround the entire moon north-to-south, bisecting it completely. And those mountains reach tens of kilometers high. Their surfaces are too sheer to climb. Such is the reason for Dara’s existence. It straddles both sides of the moon, Planetside and Voidside.”
“So, we have to go through Dara,” Lucian said. “That can’t be avoided.”
“I’m afraid not,” Serah said. “If you really want to find the Orb of Psionics.”
“We do,” Fergus said, puffing out his chest. “At the behest of your father and the Elder Council, we’ve been sent on a quest for the good of all Psyche.”
“A quest?” Serah asked, with a chuckle. “You’ve been dreaming of this moment, haven’t you? And when and if you do find the Orb of Psionics, you intend to use it against Queen Ansaldra, no?”
Ansaldra. So, that was her name.
“She’s no queen of mine,” Cleon growled.
“That sounds quite personal to you, Cleon.”
“It is. My reasons are my own.”
“No worries. I didn’t plan to ask.”
“So, will you help us find Slave’s Run or not?” Fergus asked. “You need not actually go with us to Dara. We only need to know the entrance.”
She gave a dark chuckle. “That’s rich. First, you don’t even know what you’re asking. And second, if you guys really want to use the Darkrift, you’ll lose your way the minute I show you the entrance.”
“What do you mean?” Lucian asked.
“Slave’s Run is hard to reach,” she explained. “It goes deep underground, as deep as the Moon Sea.”
Lucian frowned. “The Moon Sea? I don’t understand. There’s a sea under the Darkrift?”
Fergus nodded. “It’s not confirmed, but it’s said most water settles deep underground on Psyche before filtering up through the surface again.”
“It is confirmed, because I’ve seen it,” Serah said. “The water glows with some form of microscopic life, and Slave’s Run follows it. On one end of the Moon Sea you can climb up and reach the Blue Rift, from which comes most of the Riftlands’ water. The surface of this moon is quite porous. An effect of the low gravity and the tidal forces of Cupid.”
“Leave it to a Gravitist to explain the workings of gravity,” Cleon said.
“I digress. Basically, you can use Slave’s Run to reach the Mountains of Madness and enter the Golden Vale.”
“Why’s it called Slave’s Run?” Lucian asked.
“The answer is in the name,” Serah said. “Escaped slaves use it to run from Dara to the Riftlands. Less so in recent years since the Sorceress-Queen has firmed her grip over the Golden Vale and beyond. The name has stuck, though.”
“I took the longer path, but went through the Darkrift for most of it,” Cleon said. “It was not easy in the least, and it would take several months to make it to the Golden Vale. And that’s not counting any scuffles we get into on the way.”
“So, Slave’s Run would be faster?” Lucian asked.
Serah nodded. “Much faster. Assuming you can get there, it’ll cut weeks off your journey.” She smiled bitterly. “The catch is you have to go through the Darkrift to reach it. And the Darkrift is a labyrinth. Even I haven’t fully explored its depths. Besides the risk of losing your way, there’s gloombat colonies, Burners, and of course the danger of falling down a hole you can never get out of.”
“All right, that settles it,” Cleon said. “We’re going the long way.”
“Maybe so,” Fergus said. “But if we ever need to go the other way, the question is, can you lead us to Slaves’ Run or not?”
“I can. However, you should go the long way. In this case, your friend Cleon is right.”
“We are not friends,” Fergus said. “He is my subordinate, and I am his captain.”
“That’s harsh, Boss,” Cleon said. “Well, we’ll have plenty of weeks to bond yet.”
The Captain’s face remained stony. It was clear he had given up instilling any semblance of discipline into the former Mage-Knight long ago.
“The trip aboveground would take months,” Lucian said. “And that’s if everything goes smoothly.”
“Better to take your time and be alive than look for a shortcut and be dead,” Cleon said.
“What about the Zephyr?” Fergus asked. “The Queen and her troops are actively hunting for Lucian. Doesn’t that change the equation a bit?”
From Serah’s silence, it seemed it might have.
“I don’t want to go into any bloody, rotten, stinking Darkrift,” Cleon said.
“You must, if that is what we decide,” Fergus said. “You’re a part of this group, whether you like it or not.”
“Not by choice,” Cleon muttered.
“What about you, Lucian?” Fergus asked.
Every pair of eyes went to him. Fergus, his face serious and steely. Cleon, whose blue eyes betrayed fear. Serah, who just looked tired and wanted this conversation to be over.
“We should sleep on it,” he said. “Maybe the morning will bring answers.”
“That’s the best idea I’ve heard all night,” Serah said. “I’m still confused about a lot. Like how you found this rotting Orb to begin with. But I just can’t focus on anything right now.”
“Before you rest,” Fergus said, “be sure to stay near us. I’m warding Radiance, which will keep anyone from detecting our streams, while Lucian is warding Psionics, which will stop the Queen from interfering with our dreams.”
Her face paled when she looked at Lucian. “She really is after you, then.”
“This isn’t a game. I wouldn’t be doing this unless I absolutely had to. I know you don’t have all the information yet, Serah, but I will answer any questions you have. It would be great if you could come with us. At least part of the way.”
“I’ll think about it,” she said. “For now, I need some shuteye.”
The four of them ended up sleeping side by side, nearly touching. The cave was still cold despite the close quarters, and the cold was only accentuated by the howling wind outside. Water dripped on Lucian’s face from the condensation of everyone’s breaths. He covered his face with his jacket. But before he allowed himself to fall asleep, he set his Psionic ward, making sure it was strong enough to cover all four of them.
Once done, he closed his eyes.
23
When Lucian awoke, his skin was burning. Or rather, the fire was coming from directly below his skin, like insects stinging him all over.
He tried to keep himself from screaming, but he could only hold out so long. Everyone was up in the instant, with Fergus streaming a light sphere.
“What in the rotting hell is going on?” Cleon asked.
Serah was soon rubbing something on Lucian’s skin that spread instant coolness and relief. The pain didn’t completely ebb, but at least he wasn’t screaming anymore. Fergus looked on worriedly while Serah continued rubbing in the balm.
“What is that?” Lucian asked.
“Karealas sap,” she said. “Good for all manner of pain. No fray’s kit is complete without it. There’s nothing better for immolations.”
“Immolations?”
“A side-effect of overdrawing,” Fergus said. “Not uncommon a day or three a
fter the incident in question.”
“Overdrawing? I’ve barely . . .” Then Lucian remembered the fight with the wyverns. Overdrawing had been necessary to stream his kinetic wave. And he may have overdrawn during the fight in the Greenrift, too. Things had happened so fast that it was hard to remember.
Whatever the case, he had streamed more in the past few days than he had in months. And that was bound to have some effect.
“I get immolations, too,” Serah said. “It’s just part of being a mage.”
“Then how come I’ve never heard of it before?”
“It’s likely your Academy shielded you from such information, at least to begin with,” Fergus said. “At Irion, we didn’t teach our Initiates about them. And it’s not something often spoken of, because . . .”
As Fergus trailed off, Cleon picked up the slack. “Well, we might as well be straight with him.” Lucian had a feeling he wouldn’t like what he was about to hear. “It’s a sign of fraying, Lucian. It happens when you overdraw.”
“I see.”
Lucian sat up. The pain was all but gone, and he put his shirt back on. “Well, I’ll have to be careful.”
“See that you do,” Fergus said. “Sometimes, overdrawing can’t be avoided. You need ether to get out of a hard situation, we’ve all been there. Just know that it can lead to some particularly bad immolations down the line.”
“You mean I’m not done with this yet?”
“Hard to say,” Fergus said. “Duration, intensity, and overall number of immolations can vary. One thing is for sure. You don’t want to overdraw too much, or you’ll have a nasty surprise down the road.”
“It’s unavoidable sometimes,” Serah said. “You empty your pool and you need to draw more, drinking the poison all the while. Do that too many times, too fast, and your body starts to reject it. Leads to passing out. You don’t want to get to that point, because then you really are dead.”
The rest of that morning was Lucian catching Serah up on everything. He did the best he could with that, knowing it was too much information. But she had a sharp mind and asked all the right questions. Within an hour, she knew as much as Fergus and Cleon.
Now, he would have to wait on her answer.
“It’s too much,” she said. “But I’ll tell you what. I was going to Snake Rift anyway, and there’s safety in numbers. Let’s get there first.”
“Sounds fair,” Lucian said.
“It pains me to say this,” Fergus said, “but we need you, Serah.”
“Your persuasion skills are second to none, Fergie. Let me translate. You need my Gravitonic Magic. I’m a busy woman, and I don’t help people just because they are on a quest to do something as foolhardy as it is utterly impossible.”
“Is there anything we can do to convince you?” Lucian asked.
“There’s nothing that you can give me. Just don’t push me on this. For now, this is something for me to do, nothing more, nothing less. I’ll probably change my mind later.”
“This isn’t a vacation,” Fergus said.
“It is whatever I want it to be,” Serah said. “Until I decide it isn’t that anymore.”
Fergus’s expression was a mask of frustration. “You can’t just . . . look at the world how you want to see it!”
“I think you just summed up my entire philosophy, actually.”
“We’re wasting time,” Lucian said. “We’re glad for your help, Serah. Welcome aboard, as long as you want to stay.”
“Thanks. It’s nice to be appreciated.”
Once they had eaten and packed up, Lucian’s mind became preoccupied with his immolation. He felt fine now, but how many more of these would it take to fray? He couldn’t help but look at Serah’s left arm, where the fraying rot had already taken hold. That gray, scaly skin looked almost reptilian. How much longer until his skin looked like that?
He brushed away these thoughts as they ate a quick breakfast. Serah seemed to be making point of not looking his way. Had she caught him staring at her arm? He felt doubly bad, because he hadn’t even thanked her for the balm, and now, she was even risking her life for him. He wanted to make things right, but he didn’t want to say anything with Fergus and Cleon right there.
Once packed up, they crawled out of the cave. Lucian thought it would be a relief to get out of the Cave of Claustrophobia, but with one gust of the bitingly cold wind, he was ready to go back in.
They stood on the ledge for a moment, Cleon standing in the lee of the rock face and shivering.
“How do we get down there?” he asked.
Serah turned back, her blonde hair blown sideways. “That would depend on how much you trust your friend here.” She nodded toward Lucian.
“Trust me?” Lucian asked.
“And if I don’t trust him?”
“Then you’d better hope you’re a good climber.”
Fergus frowned. “You’re not going to create an anti-grav aura around us?”
“No. That would be suicidal with this wind, not to mention too much ether to cover four people.”
Cleon’s scoffed. “As if Lucian tethering us down there is any safer.”
Serah ignored him. “Beyond this ledge is a much flatter slope that leads to the Snake Rift. There’s a stand of rocks down there. You’ll need Radiant Magic to see through these clouds, but once you do, you’ll see those rocks clear as day.”
“I catch your meaning,” Fergus said. “You want me to light it up so Lucian can tether us down there?”
“Precisely. If that Orb is as strong as everyone’s saying, this would make the perfect test.”
Lucian had a bad feeling about this. “What did you mean by light it up, Fergus?”
“Radiants are the best for seeing the unseeable,” Fergus said. “Watch, my boy, and learn.”
At that moment, Fergus became wreathed in an aura of green light. His eyes, normally brown, now shone green, taking on new intensity. He peered into the mists for a moment.
“Found it.”
Not a moment later, something glimmered in the distance. The rock, invisible before because of the fog, now shone like a miniature sun.
“Can you reach your Focus that far, Lucian?” Fergus asked. “Most Binders would burn themselves out in seconds trying to move a pebble that far.”
Lucian thought about it for a moment. He wasn’t sure what the Orb of Binding was truly capable of, but it had done things he would have deemed impossible. But now, others’ lives were in his hands. It made his stomach drop.
“Is there another option?” Lucian asked.
“With this wind, my Gravitonics will be no help getting us down,” Serah said. “We’d have to climb, but there’s a crevice that’s impossible to traverse without magic.”
“So, the only other option is backtracking to the Snake Pass.”
“And that’ll be a slog,” Serah said. “If the Zephyr comes on us there, we’ll have no hope of escaping.”
Lucian sighed. The fact that everyone’s lives would be in his hands made him sick. Everyone was watching him. Why couldn’t they just give him space?
“Do all of you trust me to do this?” Lucian asked.
“Hell no,” Cleon said. “But I’m not going back to the Snake Pass, either.”
Fergus watched Lucian, stepping forward and placing a hand on his shoulder.
“I’ll go first,” Fergus said. “It’ll be far easier for me to stream if I can get closer to that rock.” He looked at Lucian. “My life is in your hands, Binder. Make it go as quickly as you can.”
“Without smashing your body into a bloody pulp, of course,” Serah said.
“Yes,” Fergus said. “There is that.”
Lucian ignored the joke. It was not what he needed right now. “Okay, so get Fergus down there first, then Cleon I assume. Serah after. And then . . .” Lucian frowned. “I just realized I’ve never tried to Bind myself to something before.”
“It’s no different from Binding another person or objec
t,” Fergus said. “Only the stakes are higher.”
“Can’t we hurry this up?” Cleon asked. “I’m freezing my ass off here.”
“And I’m burning ether,” Fergus said. “Get me down there, Lucian. Fast.”
Serah nodded. “Go ahead, Lucian.”
He had to get moving quickly. He didn’t know how long Fergus could keep the stream going. Lucian reached for his Focus, creating a tether from Fergus to the distant rock. It was hard to say how far away it was. A couple of klicks at least. Lucian drew ether from the Orb, streaming more and more magic into the tether.
Fergus was lifted into the air and sailed downward toward the rock, following the blue line into the mist.
“Geez,” Cleon said. “Hope you’re not going to make me fly like that.”
Lucian ignored him. He needed his full concentration to keep his Focus strong and sure. It he lost it, even for a moment, the tether would dissipate and Fergus would fall to his death.
It took about a minute for Fergus to travel the entire distance. When Lucian felt the Captain was getting close, he slowed the stream to allow for a gentle landing. The rock continued to glow steadily.
“All right, Cleon,” Lucian said. “You’re up.”
“I’ve got no choice, do I?”
He stepped up to the precipice and closed his eyes. He was shaking, either from nerves or the cold. Perhaps both.
“Don’t piss yourself,” Serah said.
“Are you sure you want those to be your last words to me?”
Before she could get in her own retort, Lucian attached a new anchor point to Cleon, who shot off the cliff with a yelp. Serah laughed as Cleon screamed for his life, his voice lost to the wind. Once Cleon had made it safely, Lucian let go of the stream.
“Now what?” he asked.
“We’re done,” she said. “With them out of the way, we can waltz off into the sunset.”
“Come on, be serious.”
At that moment, the light from the rock began to sputter. Was Fergus running low on ether?