by Skyler Grant
“This generator? Your weave is going to collapse in a few hours. The stability just wasn’t there, but you proved it is possible. We can build on this, refine it,” Urania said.
There was something in her voice. Certainty, it was something that Banok hadn’t heard from her in a long time.
“You think you’ve figured it out,” Banok said.
“I think that I’ve been blind. I’ve been working so hard to devise a solution that resulted in us all still here together, but while we might be the answer I think we’re too close,” Urania said.
“Leaving still isn’t an option.”
“No, no it isn’t,” Urania said with a shake of her head. “Nor do I want you to leave. You and Astra, I find it hard to imagine these halls without you now. I know you must miss the others.”
Banok figured they must be concerned about him as well, and he worried. The Orcs had tried to send down four more shuttles in the time he’d been there. Unlike that first landing, these didn’t even make it to the landing pad, all crashing on the planet’s surface.
Seven seconds a month, and it was coming up on month number four hundred. It was now close to two full days in the outside world since he’d come down to the surface.
The Orcs supply of their drug was becoming even more urgent, and the Catspaw would be getting increasingly uncomfortable as they were forced to ration energy to protect their supplies from the Void.
“I do,” Banok admitted. Still, to be fair he would miss Urania more if he were to be away from this place. By now, he’d known her far longer than any of the others, and while the rage at the destruction of the druids still burned in his heart, it seemed an old one.
Banok asked her, “So just what are you thinking? Truly?”
Urania studied him for a moment. “You and I are both connected through Astra. She has a piece of both inside of her. I think she might be able to work as something of a magical regulator.”
“We’re too out of alignment,” he said.
Banok understood at once what she was thinking about. It was like having a string pooled up mostly around one person’s feet. If you could give two people an end of the string and have them walk in opposite directions it would eventually be drawn taut between them.
Urania had the thought of bleeding off some of her Void magic into Banok, and in turn some of his fire and life magic into her. It might seem like he’d be getting the short end of the exchange, but really he didn’t think that was so. The problems caused by Void magic right now were because Urania was so far out of balance, and the excess was so high. A lower level in them each would be manageable, and it would actually make Banok more powerful.
The problem with the people and string analogy though was that Urania was more of a high speed train holding one end of the string. Even if Banok could hold his end, the string was more likely to snap than just be stretched.
“We’ll figure it out,” Urania said.
33
Eighty years.
The aura of flames came around Banok easily, and with it the flood of emotions. Rage, lust, passion in all its forms. Once he had fought against these things, but growing more powerful had meant learning to embrace them in an instant, to not fear the emotions that came with his power.
The torrent charged his magical weaves with new potency, life and flame, and mingled into the most complex web he’d ever conjured. To a connoisseur of magic the weaves would be a work of art, a singularly beautiful and delicate construction.
Carefully Banok reached out to the Void in the surrounding air and pulled it inward. He didn’t need it weakening his spell, extending the magic towards Jia.
The gardens around them were alive with vibrant color. It had taken him twenty years of dedicated study to change that simple weave that had once powered the generator into something both more focused and vastly more complex. Something that restored flowers to vibrancy.
The gardens had thrived for over a year now. There was even something of a tiny grove now, grown from a splinter of his staff. The trees perpetually lit with flames, they had their own bed well separate from the flowers.
Still, a human was different and complex in countless different ways, and Banok very much wanted to make sure he got it right.
Astra and Urania stood nearby, watching silently although Urania had her own magics up and ready to help if needed.
The weave settled in Jia and the frost vanished from her flesh. She started blinking rapidly.
“Master?” Jia asked with a startled glance around, her eyes widening upon the sight of Urania. “I think I missed something.”
“Quite a bit actually,” Banok said, as he looked her over. The Void could be a dangerous thing for lifeforms, and the fact that most on this world had gotten away with simple slumber was only because of Urania’s efforts to contain it. “How do you feel?”
Fighting that effect was risky. A body might seem well only for a single organ to later fail. There had been a lot of failed experiments in the early days before he’d finally gotten it right.
Jia worked her limbs carefully back and forth, rubbing her forearms. “Cold, I’m still cold, but not like I was. How? Is that … her?”
“Urania Vox,” Urania said. “Banok has told me all about you. Interaction with the Void seems in acceptable levels. Things look stable from my end.”
“It’s been a long time. Fortunately while frozen you didn’t age,” Banok said.
“How long? I see the garden is alive? What about the Orcs?” Jia asked.
“Not yet. I wanted to restore you first. They’re a bit more complicated with their addiction. I think I know enough to cure them as well, but will probably need to do both at the same time. And it’s been eighty years,” Banok added.
“Eighty years,” Jia said, sitting up sharply and looking alarmed. “What about the others? My family, I …”
“Time doesn’t move the same down here. We’ve been gone about a week from their viewpoint.”
Which was quite enough time. The situation would be critical aboard the Orc vessels now, and quickly moving in that direction aboard the Catspaw. Banok was a little shocked Cleo hadn’t left the Fade yet.
Still, their sensors would have shown things like the lights coming back on. The restoration of the gardens. Cleo likely thought the odds of waiting it out was better than risking a trip back out.
“This is really weird,” Jia said, looking between those gathered before. Her gaze settled on Urania. “So are you … really, really evil?”
“I’ve caused my share of death and am likely going to cause a lot more,” Urania said. “But not yours, not today.”
“The Fade isn’t growing by her will. Death changed her, and it’s something we’ve spent a very long time trying to fix,” Banok said.
“Maybe what is happening today isn’t her will, but things in the past are. You don’t raise an army and smash kingdoms because you just want to be left alone,” Jia said.
“I like her,” Urania said. “It takes a commitment to honesty to speak truth to power.”
“Liking me doesn’t mean disagreeing with what I said,” Jia said.
“No, no it doesn’t. When people came to kill me I decided to kill them. Like most things, I excelled at it. I give no apologies for the past,” Urania said.
“It isn’t something she plans to repeat any time soon,” Banok said.
“She can’t. Even with the fixes we think we’ve figured out, if she leaves the Fade it will kind of wipe out everything,” Astra said.
That was the crux of Urania’s situation and nothing they’d spent years researching had found a cure for it—nothing but time. Urania was the Void-touched equivalent of highly radioactive. The energies she held could be weakened with time. A lot of time.
“Well, that is reassuring. If you mean good, then why don’t you just kill yourself and save everything?” Jia said.
“I grew this strong because I am deeply tied to the Void and died. What do you think wi
ll happen if I die a second time?” Urania asked.
“Things … magically get better?” Jia asked with a weak smile.
“Last time she died, it didn’t take because she had a connection still open to the world. She still does,” Banok said.
Jia looked over to Astra and then to Banok, “You and her.”
“And I’m connected to the Grove and to the lifeforce of our galaxy in general. So no, I can’t just die along with her,” Banok said.
“The possibilities are alarming if we both perish. So, we won’t,” Urania said. “Trust me, we have a plan to fix me. To fix everything.”
They did. Awakening Jia was just the first step. It was time to escape from this planet. It was time for Banok to put all he’d learned to good use.
34
The Orcs were another matter. The drugs they required had been stored as a liquid and the process of freezing had neutralized them.
It took Urania to figure that out. Biochemistry wasn’t Banok’s specialty for all that he now understood life magic far better than she did. And she did have a deep knowledge of the Orcs because she’d originally found them.
What had been done to them was fascinating. Their homeworld was a hostile one where they were constantly in danger, and as a result they’d evolved as a highly predatory species. They actually had quite a bit of intelligence even back when they had a reputation for being mindless brutes. It had simply all been applied towards combat.
Whoever had modified them had taken a lot of cues from human brain structure, devoting portions of the Orc mind to creativity, and it seemed to have been the kick they needed to rapidly become more than they had been. It left their systems deficient in several ways. The constant focus on fighting had always filled their systems with combat hormones. Without them their systems began to break down.
The drug they were addicted to had been originally designed to help them, and only later someone realized just how much control it offered over this young species.
The solution of course was to try to strike a balance. In a way the Orcs were going to be a lot like Banok, tied to their passions. Quick to rage, quick to forgive, quick to laugh. A push towards being creatures of impulse that could hopefully also strike a balance with keen minds.
They’d pulled Ogdek from the shuttle and stretched him out in the gardens where Banok’s magic was going to be strongest.
Banok carefully wove fire and life together, while Jia watched with her eyes wide.
“Can you teach me how to do that?” Jia asked.
“Perhaps. I don’t know how we’ll approach this in the Order yet. We’re going to need knowledgeable spellcasters, but it takes a very long time to teach. Longer than one should spend as an apprentice,” Banok said.
In truth workings such as he was doing now would almost never be required, and like himself much of the druid understanding of life magic would be instinctive.
Still, instinct only took you so far. What he’d learned from Urania had made Banok capable of far more. While sometimes delicacy and brute force could accomplish the same ends, there were areas where they didn’t they overlap.
This was one of those.
Banok could have poured life-force into the Orcs and let the magic do its best to fix them. He was pretty sure he knew what he’d get—a reversion to what the Orcs had once been. Maintaining their minds? Creating something new out of what they had been and what they’d been turned into? That took skill.
Urania and Astra stood together, watching.
Astra rarely ever discorporated these days, she kept her physical form. Here it was hard for it to do much damage to the environment as the Void consumed most of the excess energy.
“Strand seventeen,” Urania said.
Banok found the problem after a moment. A strand of fire magic had grown too charged. When the weave came together it might have destabilized the whole structure. He carefully drew down the power and continued.
“Obviously I don’t know everything just yet,” Banok said.
That was an understatement. Urania was still better, and so was Delilah from his memories of her weaves.
“You are an immortal. You have a long time to learn. The invitation is still open. Another few centuries and you’ll be able to open a portal yourself to escape from here,” Urania said.
That was true, but despite time seeming endless it wasn’t. Their plan to save Urania, to help to save the bigger universe from her, was delicate. As tempting as it was in some ways to continue to spend time here with her, the universe did move on, however slowly. Events were escaping them even now.
“You know I can’t,” Banok said.
The weave pulled together. It looked good, solid, and Banok slowly eased it into the frozen body of Ogdek. If this worked, at least repeating it should be far easier with minor modifications for the unique physiology of each Orc.
Ice rippled away from the Orc, a pool of water forming beneath him as he howled. Ogdek sprang to his feet in a shockingly fluid motion for such a big figure, weight balanced as his eyes quickly took in the change of surroundings and those gathered watching him.
“It’s okay. You’re okay, I hope,” Banok said.
“Or you’re about to have a lot of seizures and die horribly, and then we have to try again,” Astra said.
“I am …” Ogdek said, and he sniffed the air. “The weakness that was pulling at me always. It is gone?” The Orc’s gaze settled on Urania and he dropped to a knee, head low. “Lady.”
“Rise, Orc’tai. It is not I that deserves your gratitude this day,” Urania said, and tilted her head to Banok.
Ogdek looked to Banok and lowered his head once more. “Lord. Thank you. Can you do the same for my people?”
“You got very formal suddenly. I believe so. If it really worked for you. We should wait a few days to make sure it took properly. We are pressed for time, but we have that much,” Banok said.
“The Orcs have always had honor. One who saves the life of another is due great respect, and the saver of a whole tribe great loyalty. I … once saved the entire species,” Urania said.
“And we forever remember, Lady,” Ogdek said.
So that was how Urania had gotten her Orcish army, that was how she burned worlds.
Banok had to make saving Ogdek’s people a priority. It wasn’t just the right thing to do, it served his ends as well.
35
A week had passed, enough time to confirm that Ogdek was suffering no ill effects from his restoration, and to resusitate the rest of the Orcs.
Leaving the planet was going to be a lot more difficult than landing on it.
Urania had already relocated herself to elsewhere in the Fade. She absolutely radiated Void energy and her being close would only make things more difficult.
While there were limits to how much distance she could put between them without causing cataclysmic results in the galaxy outside, it was a necessary step.
Even so she’d lived there so long the power was near overwhelming. They’d scavenged the thrusters from all of the crashed Orcish shuttles and rigged them to the remaining ones, which in turn would support the shuttle from the Catspaw. Banok had spent a long time weaving power back into engine fuel, self-sustaining magical formations that would only bleed their power back into the Void slowly.
It still wasn’t going to be easy. The Void hungered for life, for power, and Banok was the most powerful source of it in the Fade.
It was like trying to lift an object of immense mass from the planet’s surface. Banok wished Nyx were here to help with the engineering aspects, but Urania was a genius as well and had done her best.
Banok settled into the cockpit of the shuttle and took a deep breath.
This wasn’t easy. Saying goodbye to Urania hadn’t been easy.
Eighty years, longer than his entire lifetime before coming to this place, had been spent with her.
Yet, being an immortal meant his brain worked differently than most. Events didn
’t fade with time, Cleo and the others were still crystal-clear in his memory. What had happened to his Grove was still fresh as if he were living it again the instant he remembered.
Banok flicked switches and the shuttle’s engines hummed to life.
Astra was in the rear compartment with the engine, directly pouring her power into the weaves as best she could manage. The moment they left the planet’s atmosphere and its intense concentration of Void energy she’d probably wind up melting the engines to slag. Hopefully they wouldn’t need them by then.
Jia beside him flicked through the launch routine. She’d studied up on what was needed.
“We’re good to go,” Jia said.
Banok hit the the switch to activate the launch routine.
This had all been planned ahead of time. Urania had done the math and programmed the coordinates during a previous precious burn of fuel.
They’d tested everything they could, but there were still so many unknowns. If the Void had more draw than they expected this whole thing could fail. If the welds that held the new engines in place were insufficient, this hodgepodge of ships could come flying apart.
A massive rumble, far more than the shuttle would normally experience, shook the ship as they ever so slowly rose from the landing pad.
The shuttle was meant to take off quickly, to get people into their ship in orbit fast. A heavy cargo-hauler was built for this, but they were pushing this tiny craft to its limits.
“Thrust failing on number seven,” Jia said.
The routines Urania had programmed started to compensate, the opposite engine decreasing thrust to match so that they maintained the ideal angle for ascent.
The air outside the ship was turning purple. The concentration of Void energy increased as it worked to hold onto them, making it visible.
The air in the cockpit turned chill, Jia’s breath a heavy cloud.
Still the engines strained, still they were gaining altitude.
A violent tremor shook the shuttle.
