Ashes of the Sun

by Django Wexler

  Nicomidi’s expression darkened into a scowl as he retreated, searching for a chance to counterattack and not finding it. His deiat tendrils retreated for a moment, and Maya hesitated, suspecting a trap. Nicomidi used that chance to leap backward, lashing out at the rock at his feet. A blast of twisted air detonated, strong enough to shatter the stone and send splinters spraying in all directions. Maya’s panoply flared, and she heard Beq grunt. Before Maya could recover, Nicomidi had turned in Beq’s direction, sending a rolling wave of detonations toward her. Maya reached out desperately, throwing fire, but not fast enough—

  The blasts stopped, blocked by a wall of eye-twisting folds in space. Tanax, breathing hard, stood over Beq, his distorted blade in hand.

  “You are going to drop your weapon,” he said, stepping forward. “And you are going to tell us everything. About Raskos, about Jaedia, about your plans and what you think you heard from the Chosen. Everything.”

  “You arrogant little plaguepit,” Nicomidi spat. “You have no idea what you’re interfering with.”

  Maya looked to Beq, who’d rolled onto her side. She was speckled with blood all over, with a large patch on her thigh, and she had her hands pressed against the wound. When Maya’s eyes found hers, though, Beq gave a fierce nod. Maya raised her haken and stepped up beside Tanax.

  “Fine, then,” Nicomidi said. “Come and die.”

  They attacked. The Kyriliarch’s speed was unearthly, his weapon shifting from side to side like a snowflake on the wind, but it wasn’t enough. Maya and Tanax moved automatically to either side of him, without a word exchanged, forcing Nicomidi to retreat or be surrounded. He lashed out with deiat, and they parried and pushed back, bursts of flame and twisted space pressing rapidly inward against a line of crackling concussions. Nicomidi’s panoply started to flare in blue-white bursts as one of Maya’s blows scored, then one of Tanax’s. A blast of flame slipped through his defenses and caught him full in the face, and when the searing light faded, the Kyriliarch was on his knees.

  “Jaedia!” His voice was hoarse. “Will you control your fucking student if you want her so badly?”

  And then, at last, Jaedia turned. Maya’s throat went thick at the sight of her face, framed by the fur-lined hood, calm as ever, wearing a slight smile. She came forward, stepping lightly, not reaching for the haken at her side.

  “You seem to be in difficulty,” she said to Nicomidi in her lilting, musical accent.

  “We cannot fail,” Nicomidi grated. “Not here. Not when we’re so close.”

  “I agree.” Jaedia caught Maya’s eye and winked. Maya fought a desperate grin. She’s on our side, this has all been some plan, we found her in time—

  “Then do something,” the Kyriliarch shouted.

  Jaedia stepped up beside Nicomidi, laid one gentle hand against his cheek, and turned him inside out.

  He barely had time to scream. His skin split wide open, bones cracking audibly, as his body twisted in ways it was never meant to. His viscera dropped away, making a bloody puddle on the rocks, and his muscles wove and knotted themselves into new patterns. Limbs, with broken ribs protruding from them like spikes. Plaguespawn.

  “I’m afraid his company has grown-grown quite tiresome lately,” Jaedia said. Her voice was pleasant, but with a strange tic, as a word repeated in a different tone as though someone had stitched two parts of a sentence together. Maya’s mind went back to a basement under Bastion, a lifetime ago. The realization must have showed on her face, because Jaedia smiled and pulled down her hood. Something squirmed at the back of her neck, a black spider with its legs wrapped around her throat and its fangs buried in her flesh. “I told you we’d meet-meet again, little sha’deia.”

  “Maya?” Tanax said, staring at the pulsing, bloody thing that had been his master. “What the fuck is going on?”

  “That’s not Jaedia,” Maya said, retreating a step.

  “To be more precise, it is Jaedia’s body-body.” Jaedia stepped forward, her head moving with a sudden jerk as she looked from one of them to the other. “Jaedia’s mind, Jaedia’s mem-memories. Jaedia is just no longer in charge.”

  “Who are you?” Maya whispered.

  “I am nothing. A copy. An instrument.” Jaedia put her hand on the fleshy mess at her feet and stroked it lovingly. “A better question is, who are you?”

  “If you have Jaedia’s memories, you know that,” Maya said.

  “Ah, but do you?” Jaedia smiled wider. “You-you have no idea of the trouble you’ve caused, little sha’deia, or the lengths I’ve had to go to keep-keep you alive when you insist on sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong. And you do like to interfere, don’t you? In Bastion you forced me to ruin a perfectly good body. In Deepfire you kept the Core Analytica out of my hands. You can’t leave-leave well enough alone.”

  “What is a sha’deia?” Tanax said. “Why would you want to keep her alive?”

  “She is an experiment,” Jaedia said. She tapped her chest, and Maya followed suit automatically with her free hand, feeling the hard lump of the Thing. Something flickered in her mind, shredded flashes of a dream, and her eyes widened. Jaedia went on. “An experiment that has-has not yet produced a result, and preserving that has some value. However. I think-think it has reached the end of its usefulness.”

  All at once, the mass of muscle and bone that had been Nicomidi twisted and sprang, long tentacular limbs hurling it up toward Jaedia. It opened, more bones cracking, and wrapped itself around her torso like a suit of armor, two extra arms of coiled meat extending from her shoulders. Blood sprayed and spattered, coating Jaedia’s clothing in crimson.

  Tanax brought up his hand, sending a wave of twisted, shredding force at the Jaedia-thing. She spun lithely aside, and one long tentacle stretched. He slashed down at it with his haken, and it wove out of the way of the blade, rippling muscle whipping it into his stomach in a blow strong enough to send him spinning away and rolling back over the stones.

  Maya raised her haken and charged, and another tentacle lashed out at her. She ducked under the blow, blood spattering her hair, and carved through the thing, closing with Jaedia. Her mentor, still grinning, shifted and lashed out at Beq with a second tendril. Maya checked her attack and threw herself sideways, haken cutting down to sever that limb too, but the tentacle reversed course and slammed into her, making her panoply flare. She coughed, winded, and reached out with deiat, fire blooming around her in a tight spiral. Flesh crackled and charred, but not fast enough—the groping tips of the tendril wrapped around her right hand, prying her fingers apart and prizing the haken from her grip. With a flick, they tossed it away, and the flames winked out.

  “This is the problem with you-you centarchs,” Jaedia said. Her tentacle lifted Maya by her wrist before her, the tips of her toes dangling inches off the ground. “Your strength, ultimately, comes-comes from the outside. For all your power-power, it leaves you vulnerable.” Jaedia brought Maya up to her, face-to-face, and raised her real arm to touch her cheek. “I learned that more than four hundred years ago.”

  “Jaedia.” Maya’s voice was a croak. “Don’t… do this. Please.”

  “Oh, dear. Begging for your old-old master. How tragic.” Jaedia ran her finger down Maya’s cheek, and Maya could feel the muscles jumping and twitching in its wake, as though eager to rip themselves away from the bone. “Perhaps next you’ll cry for your mother.” She shook her head. “This experiment has gone-gone on long enough. You are not the one I am looking for.”

  “Jaedia.” Maya stared at the bright green eyes. “Please. Stop this.”

  “I told you to give up,” Jaedia said. She pressed her hand against Maya’s temple. “I was going to stop your heart first, out of respect. But now I think I’ll keep you alive while I… repurpose you.”

  Please. Maya had no more breath, but her lips formed the word.

  Jaedia held her palm against Maya’s skull, and a long moment passed. Slowly, the vicious smile faded from her lips.

>   “No-no,” she muttered. Her head jerked one way, then the other. “Not-not-NOT possible.”

  The tendril holding Maya’s arm peeled back, opening like a flower. She hit the ground in a crouch, gasping for breath, right shoulder screaming with pain.

  “Nononono,” the Jaedia-thing snarled. Her flesh-tentacles writhed wildly. “I am in control. I am always in control. I—”

  “Maya!” Beq’s voice.

  From the corner of her eye, something came flying toward her, and Maya reached out with her good arm, snatching her haken out of the air. Jaedia’s eyes went very wide, and the tendrils reached, but fire was already blooming around Maya, pushing them away. Maya surged to her feet and brought her hand around to the back of her mentor’s neck. She felt the hard shell of the black spider under her fingers.

  “Sha’deia,” Jaedia gasped. “Maybe you are the one—”

  Maya focused a burst of flame, as small and hot as she could make it, tearing through the monstrous thing in a blaze of focused plasma. Jaedia dropped at once, like all her bones had been removed. The horrible flesh-armor with its tentacles collapsed around her, disintegrating into twisted meat and shattered bones. Maya landed on her knees, coughing and struggling for breath.

  “Jaedia!” Maya tossed her haken aside and scrambled forward, heedless of the slick of blood and torn flesh. Jaedia lay amid the ruins, her breathing ragged. As Maya reached her, she gave a scream, arched her back for a strained moment, then fell limp.

  No no no no. Maya fell to her knees beside her mentor. Not now. Not after all this. She pulled Jaedia toward her, resting her head across Maya’s stained lap. Blood ran from the back of Jaedia’s neck where the spider had bitten her, a steady trickle of crimson. Her breath rattled harshly in her chest, and her eyes were closed.

  “Jaedia,” Maya said frantically. “Jaedia, please.”

  Her mentor’s soft green eyes opened, focusing slowly. “M… Maya?”

  “I’m here,” Maya said. “I found you. You’re going to be all right.”

  “I…” Jaedia’s features tensed as a wave of pain ran through her. “I couldn’t. Let him hurt you. Not you.”

  “I know,” Maya said. Her throat was thick. “You beat him.”

  “I… I killed…” Her eyes filled with tears.

  “It wasn’t you. I’ll explain everything to Basel.” Maya furiously wiped her own eyes, spreading gore across her face. “We’ll get you back to the Forge and figure everything out.”

  “Marn,” Jaedia whispered. “I left him.”

  “He’s all right,” Maya said. “I found him.”

  “Good,” Jaedia said, then stiffened again. Her breath escaped her with a sigh. “That’s… good.”

  “Please don’t die.” Maya’s voice was a whisper. “Not now. I need you.”

  “Maya.” Jaedia swallowed. “Listen to me. The mountain.”

  “W… what?”

  “Under the mountain.” Jaedia jerked again. “There is—power. The ghouls—”

  “The ghouls?” Maya said. “I don’t understand. Is it a ruin?”

  “The ghouls are here,” Jaedia gasped out. “If they… reach it… everything will fall. Order. Republic. Everything.” Her hand came up, catching Maya’s arm in a death grip. “You have to stop them.”

  “But…”

  “Stop. Them.” Jaedia could barely force the words out. “Please.”

  “Don’t do this,” Maya said. “Don’t put this on me like you’re going to die. Jaedia!”

  Jaedia’s back arched again, her body as taut as a bowstring. Her eyes showed only whites.

  No. Maya’s hand scrabbled in the wet ruin until she found her haken. Deiat bloomed inside her. You can’t. She pulled at the flow of power, the fire of creation, until it crackled through her body like a tempest of flame. The Thing went from skin-warm to white-hot in moments, and a curl of smoke rose from where it scorched her shirt. You can’t. You can’t die.

  A voice echoed in her mind. Her own voice, but not, full of such authority that to disobey it was unthinkable.

  I will not allow it.

  Pinpricks of warmth, all over her skin, grew in intensity to match the Thing’s blaze. Maya, suffused with the power of the sun, looked down at Jaedia’s body, and she saw. The poison the spider had left behind, its petty revenge, caustic venom tearing Jaedia apart from the inside, like black worms writhing through her veins. Maya focused, and the worms burned, strings of fire too small to see with the naked eye running through Jaedia like the tide. A hundred, a thousand, a million tiny shreds of divine fire. Too many. No one can do this, Maya thought, and she felt herself wobble atop the torrent of power.

  You can, little sha’deia. Something was watching her, something distant and vast and cold. Oh, you can.

  I will see you again. Soon…

  The last of the black poison burned away. Maya let deiat slip from her fingers, and the world slipped away with it, burying her in darkness.

  “Maya!” Someone was tapping her cheek. “Maya, please wake up.”

  “We can’t carry both of them.” Tanax’s voice, more distant.

  “Maya!” Beq.

  Maya opened her eyes and saw Beq’s face inches from her own, melting with relief. “She’s awake!”

  “I…” Maya coughed. “Jaedia!”

  “She’s alive,” Beq said. “I don’t know what you did, Maya, but it was amazing. You were glowing, and then Jaedia was glowing too, and—”

  “We can explain things later,” Tanax said. “We need to get out of here now.”

  “What’s happening?” Maya sat up, a little too quickly, and the world spun around her. Beq gave her a hand, and she got gently to her feet. When she saw, she felt the bottom drop out of her stomach. “Oh.”

  The army of plaguespawn was coming apart. Whatever will had held them in place had died with the black spider, and in its wake had come madness even worse than what was normal for plaguespawn. The creatures were attacking at random, tearing mindlessly at one another with teeth and claws, the giants scything through dozens of their smaller brethren with enormous talons. The whole head of the valley was a boiling, vicious melee.

  At the edge of the crowd, monsters were breaking away from the pack in all directions, including directly toward the rock face on which Maya and the others stood. None had yet found their way up the narrow path leading to the top, but it was only a matter of time.

  “We have to get away,” Tanax said. “Back down the valley.” His voice was grim, and Maya could see why.

  “We’ll never make it,” Maya said. “Not with that many of them behind us.”

  “If we stay here, they’ll surround us,” Tanax shot back. “Better a small chance than none at all.”

  “I’m not sure how far I can run,” Beq said matter-of-factly. She had a bandage tied around the wound in her leg, but blood was already soaking through. Only the rapid working of her throat betrayed her fear. “And someone has to carry Jaedia.”

  “We’ll never make it,” Maya repeated.

  “Do you have a better idea?” Tanax snapped.

  “Under the mountain,” Jaedia had said. Maya looked at the flat cliff face, the spot where the rock was stained with plaguespawn blood, and suddenly understood. “Down there. There’s a way inside.”

  “Inside?” Beq said. “Like into a ghoul tunnel?”

  “Something like that,” Maya said.

  “You have no way of knowing that,” Tanax said.

  “Jaedia told me.” Maya picked up her haken. “She gave me a job to do, and I’m going to finish it.”

  “You—” Tanax shook his head and glanced at Beq, who shrugged.

  “You’re the one who wanted to join her expedition,” she said.

  There was a long pause.

  “All right,” Tanax said, looking down at the melee. “If we move quickly and don’t stop, we should be able to keep them off us. I’ll carry Jaedia.” He looked up at Maya. “What’s this job?”

  “Savi
ng the Order and the Republic,” Maya said.

  “Oh,” Beq said. “Is that all?”

  Chapter 25

  Gyre

  “Leviathan’s Womb?” Kit said. “What’s a Leviathan’s Womb?”

  “You will understand when you see,” Naumoriel said, closing the canopy of his war-construct. “Come.”

  The huge thing spidered over the dusty stone floor, and Gyre, Kit, and the two remaining soldier-constructs followed in its wake. They passed down a short corridor lined with more constructs, low-slung, six-legged, insectoid things of metal and black muscle. Kit eyed them with distrust.

  “These guys weren’t willing to come help us outside?” she said.

  “They are not yet active,” Naumoriel said. “The constructs here are… different. Without the Core Analytica, they are incomplete.”

  “A construct army?” Kit said skeptically. “Is that the power you’ve come to find?”

  Naumoriel said nothing.

  Gyre had expected the whole mountain to be a maze of tunnels, like Refuge or the ruins under Deepfire. Instead, after only a few minutes, they came up into a much larger space. Much larger, he realized, as he stared around it. Even his silver eye couldn’t make out the ceiling or the far walls. They must have hollowed out half the mountain. They stood on a long walkway, a smooth rock wall to their right, while to their left and ahead of them was…

  The scale of it was hard to grasp. A metal plate, stretching below the level of the walkway and up over Gyre’s head. A narrow seam, and then another plate, and another, on and on. Like a building, a fortress, the Spike laid on its side. Gyre was about to ask why the ghouls would build their fortification here when he spotted the curving, jointed shapes in the distance, like…

  Legs?

  His mouth fell open and stayed there.

  It’s a construct. Something like Naumoriel’s war-construct, armored in steel, but vast beyond imagining. The size of a city. A mountain.

  “Leviathan,” he whispered.

  “Indeed,” Naumoriel said. He’d opened his canopy again, leaning forward to look at the awesome thing with his huge, rheumy eyes. “The greatest project ever created by my kind. The pinnacle of our mastery of dhaka, our power. It has slept here, undisturbed, for four hundred years.”