by Chris Fox
The screen lit suddenly, at first showing the storm itself. Roiling clouds and crackling lightning coated the screen, and I had no idea how Seket navigated through it. Then the screen shifted, and a much, much more stereotypical necromancer appeared on screen.
One eye had replaced by a petrified…was that a drake eye? Depths, why? His leathery skin had the pallor of long death, but his one normal-ish eye seemed alert enough as the monster fixed on me. “I am shipfather Gak. You have survived the storm, and approach a holy place. Who are you, and why should we not board you and consume your flesh and your soul?”
That was a really good question, and I kind of wanted to get the answer right. I felt like slipping up might be, umm, bad.
“I am Jerek Shipclaimer.” I stood proud. “Jerek of the Heka Aten. I survived the destruction of my world, and brought the Inuran Matriarch who caused it to justice. I survived the assault on the Inuran trade moon launched by Necrotis, and disabled the moon’s engines to prevent it from being used against my people. I bonded with the Word of Xal, served as captain, and am now the captain of the Remora. I have been aboard many Great Ships. I have battled Wyrms. I have bargained with gods. I have fought the swarm, and touched the Web of Divinity. Today I come seeking Sanctuary. I would find the holy city, and see it for myself. I would attempt entry, if the unseen deem it fitting.”
Miri blinked at me from one of the couches along the wall. I hadn’t realized she’d followed. “Wow, I didn’t know you were all that.”
“Very well.” The ghastly necromancer smiled grimly at me. “If you are truthful, then we like that you thwart Necrotis. But we have already allowed the living too much latitude. If you wish to approach, then you must prove your worth. I offer a single champion. You may choose the battlefield.”
Was this the necromancer version of ‘one v. one me, bro’? I guessed so, and I needed to deal with it. Should I select someone else to be champion? Seket would probably wreck their champion—well, depending on what the champion was. And that was putting a lot of pressure on our pilot.
No, I needed him where he was. Miri could do it, but…I could do it better. I had more diverse magic. Miri couldn’t teleport or fly. I could. But…was I thinking too literally? I got to choose the battlefield.
Hmm. I might have been able to maneuver into a game of Kem’Hedj, or a coin toss, or some other gimmick, but at the end of the day it wouldn’t save me, I realized. They’d only respect a real fight. They had honor, so Siwit claimed.
“I choose my ship. Send your champion here.” I drew my pistol, and did a marvelous rendition of diet-badass. “They’ll be fighting me.”
“You? You are a child.” Gak gave a low laugh. “Very well. I shall send one of our children, someone befitting your youth. A potent necromancer, so take care, pup.”
“Jerek, are you sure about this?” Miri’s voice pitched the question low enough that I didn’t think Gak heard. I gave her a quick nod.
“I’ll be ready.” Then I killed the connection, and turned to Seket. “See if you can match our location with our navigational data. I want to be ready to run if we have to. If I lose, we’re not turning around. We’re making a run for the city.”
“What?” Siwit’s eyes flashed with spirit. “You honorless flesh bag. You won’t respect the results of the duel? If you twist our custom, I will end you myself. Do not think yourself safe. I might die, but I will take you with me. Even were that not the case, Gak will hunt you. You will not survive.”
I raised my pistol and covered Siwit. “Seket take him down to the brig. I’m sorry, Siwit. There’s a lot riding on this. You said you want to stop Necrotis, right? Well if we can’t get close, then we can’t stop her. I hate having to do this, but you know what? I don’t have the luxury of honor. I have duty. I was sent out here by the Confederacy, and by my conscience. You’d better believe if I lose this fight, then I’m going to twist your custom.”
Seket ducked from the matrix, and I ducked inside. Now that we were riding the eddy there was almost nothing to do. We were as safe as we’d be until we left the storm entirely. Did the end justify the means? Was I right to break my word if it came to that?
If the answer was no, and these people really did abide by honor duels, then did that make me the bad guy? Maybe, but if that’s what it took to avoid becoming an orphan, and to help stop Necrotis, then that was exactly what I’d do.
9
I don’t know what I expected their champion to look like. I didn’t really have any idea what a necromancer should look like. I didn’t expect a drifter, which probably says something about me. Drifters could be murderous cultists, too. Necromancers were equal opportunity. You didn’t even have to be alive.
This drifter was a pretty blonde who couldn’t be more than a year or two older than me. Her curls had been artfully styled, as had the skulls and finger bones affixed to her midnight robes.
Something massive clanked behind her, and my shoulders slumped when I realized that the gigantic stone elemental lumbering into view must belong to her. Did necromancers use elementals? I studied the creature with my sight, and saw the binding immediately. This thing had been soulshackled, and forced to modify its own body to her specifications.
A well shielded harness had been hollowed out in its back, where I imagined the necromancer would shelter during combat. Earth elementals were virtually immune to physical damage, and the necromancer had already erected several layers of wards to handle spells. She’d spent the trip over here getting ready.
I’d used the bathroom and had some ramen. I wanted a do over. And I wanted not to be worrying about Briff in the back of my head. Had he been awake he might have been my choice for champion. It wasn’t just that I needed him though. I needed him to be okay. He was my best friend. My brother from another clutch.
“Seket, keep the engines hot.” I slowly drew my pistol as the necromancer and her fun companion lumbered into the cargo hold. We had about ten meters clearance, which wasn’t much when dealing with a two-meter-plus elemental.
“You are the one who seeks entry to the holy city?” The drifter’s voice had a slight Virkonan accent, or something close to it. Like Siwit layered over a drifter. “Prove yourself then. Know this. They sent me, because they know you’re a tool of Necrotis. I’m not lettin’ you joost waltz past me.”
The elemental lowered a hand, and she stepped atop it, just barely covering the palm. The elemental hefted her up to its shoulder, and she clambered over it and into the harness built onto the back. There were little holes she could see and cast through, but they were small enough that I couldn’t, say, pass a grenade through.
“So how do we do this?” I slowly drew my pistol, and readied myself to teleport.
“Attack when you’re ready. We fight to incapacitation, though if someone dies, that is permitted. To seek such is dishonorable, and I won’t intentionally kill you. This will hurt though.” Her laughter echoed from the elemental’s back.
That gave me time to think. I love time to think. Since I got to choose when to attack, I took my time considering and coming up with a plan. How did one beat an elemental, backed by a necromancer who could counter spells and deliver spirit bolts? Especially if my magic couldn’t reach her.
I could try teleporting a grenade inside her harness. That would turn it into a prison as the shrapnel rebounded back on her. If that failed I could try blinding her. The darkness trick from the trade moon could prevent the elemental from finding me, though she might be able to see through it.
Hmm. I couldn’t think of any better tactics, so I went with that for my initial attack plan. I plucked a grenade from my belt. “Ready?”
“Ready,” echoed nonchalantly from the harness. The elemental remained utterly motionless, though its acid eyes were locked on me.
I cradled the grenade in one hand, and fired Dez with the other. The grenade disappeared as expected, but then a moment later reappeared in my palm…live. “I regret my choices!”
I hurled the grenade away, but it was my left hand, and the black sphere tinked to the ground a meter away. Then it detonated. The explosion picked me up, and flung me into the wall of my own cargo hold. I’d dented my own ship, and peppered it with shrapnel. The elemental did not seem impressed.
“Oww.” I rose to my feet, relieved that while yellow had sprung up on the paper doll there wasn’t yet any red.
“That was impressive,” the necromancer’s muffled voice taunted. “I kind of want to let you try again before I attack. Maybe I can win without doing anything.”
That stung, but I am not a proud man. I’ll take every advantage I can get. I raised Dez and poured the strongest magnitude void bolt I could into her. The spell streaked into the golem’s shoulder where the harness affixed to the back, but wards sprang into view and deflected the spell before it could hit.
“There. I feel better now. My turn! Kill him, Bob.” Bob lumbered forward, and I sensed that we were not going to be friends.
A bit more void teleported me behind him, and I fired off a clinging flames spell, which cost almost no fire. As expected, the wards flared…and weakened. That might be the key. Lots of weak spells to lower defenses while I stayed out of range. The trouble was I couldn’t keep teleporting, so I needed non-magical means of staying out of reach.
I fed a bit of void to the armor, and rose up to the ceiling, then plastered myself against it. Bob began marching in my direction, and I could already see that unless he could elongate his body he wouldn’t be able to reach me just yet. That bought me a little time.
Until the spirit bolt streaked out and slammed into my back. I nearly dropped to the deck, but recovered and flitted out of Bob’s reach before he could capitalize. Laughter came from the harness. “You’re a quick one. I’ll give you that. Joost one slip up, though, and this is done.”
I knew she was right. My spells weren’t going to get through quickly enough. So how did I get around the problem? She probably didn’t know about my covenant with Nara. I could use weaken, and I bet that would get past the wards. If I planted it in the right spot, then I might be able to breach the harness, and get a grenade through the gap.
Worth a shot.
I dropped into Bob’s reach, and when he swung for me I teleported behind him. The elemental toppled off balance, and I darted beneath the harness and planted my palm against the dark stone. “Weaken.”
Stone flaked off immediately, and cracks spread as I rolled away and then shot back into the air. I fired a hasty void bolt, but the wards deflected the spell. At least Bob pivoted to keep the weakened area shielded from view. It must have worked.
“Divine magic. Clever, clever.” Delighted laughter filled the room. “Now what?”
I darted again, and when Bob went for me, I teleported. It went poorly. Why did it go poorly? Because I used the same move twice in a row. Never be predictable.
A counterspell flitted through one of the holes in the elemental, and slammed into my armor. It tore through my teleport, and while I spent the magic for the spell, it simply fizzled, and left me within Bob’s easy reach.
Bob was not kind.
Bob smashed my faced against the deck. A lot.
My faceplate went dark, and I was once again grateful for my sight. The calf Bob held me by had already shattered, but thankfully adrenaline shielded me from the pain. Since the HUD had died the armor didn’t respond, and I couldn’t activate potion loaders.
I flooded myself with life magic, which felt great…until Bob slammed me into the deck again. It was not a good situation.
My face hit the deck again, then he picked me up. This time his fist enveloped my head, and began to squeeze. Agony flooded through me as the helmet began to distend, and I knew I only had a couple seconds before this ended.
I teleported.
She countered it.
The grip tightened, and my nose shattered, the scream tearing away whatever protection I’d gotten from the adrenaline, and filling every neuron with as much urgency as it could.
Counterspell. That was it.
I forced my eyes open, and used my sight on the elemental. I could see the binding. I wasn’t an amazing counter speller, but desperate times and all that. I aimed Dez at the elemental’s chest where the soulshackle had taken root, and began firing counterspells as quickly as I could.
Once. Twice. The third one shattered the spell. Too late.
Darkness ate my vision piece by piece, and then my heart gave. I stopped breathing, and let the black take me.
10
I woke up, which was my first pleasant surprise. My head ached something awful, but the rest of the pain was gone. My eyes fluttered open and sought focus, and I realized I’d been brought to the bridge, not my quarters.
“Relax, Captain.” Seket’s voice came from far away, from the spinning flashing rings…the matrix. Reason crept back in. How had I survived? “Did Miri?”
“No.” She leaned into my field of view, concern etched onto her features. “I didn’t interfere. You won fairly. I’m impressed. I did heal you after, and had I not you’d have died from the injuries you sustained. Jerek….” Her voice cracked, and I couldn’t tell what had her so upset.
She pressed my helmet into my hands, and I realized numbly that shouldn’t be possible. The helmet retracted into the suit…unless it had been torn off.
“It could have been my head,” I realized aloud. I tried to be grateful, but if my armor couldn’t seal, then it would be useless, and so would I. The suit would take days to regenerate, if it could even be repaired. “What happened? How did I win?”
“Your last counterspell broke the elemental’s soulshackle.” Miri’s concern lessened and a cruel smile sharpened her features. “It tore off part of its own back, and then it…well, let’s just say not much of your opponent made it back onto the shuttle.”
The entire ship lurched, and current crackled from the scry-screen as it exploded. The lights failed, leaving us in total darkness save the sigils on the spell matrix. They returned nearly instantly, and Seket smoothly tapped all three life as his eyes glazed over in a look that meant he’d joined with the sensors.
“What’s going on?” I whispered, not wanting to distract a pilot during combat. “If I won why are the necromancers attacking?”
Maybe the whole honor thing had been a lie?
“Because they do not believe us.” Siwit’s voice came from the couch furthest away from us. Seket must have let him out of the brig, or someone had. “Had the necromancer lived, then she could have passed her opinion. She took your measure, and could have vouchsafed you to the wards. Instead she died. Messily. And while that reflects well on you in the sense that you beat a challenge you were expected to lose, it also means that you may have cheated, and they’re simply not aware. Add to that the fact that they think we work for Necrotis, and well…I’m not surprised they view us as a threat.”
The ship shook again, but this time from the wind, then we reversed course so whip-fast I regretted burritos for lunch. The spellcannon hummed, then discharged a life bolt that sizzled away rain and streaked into an enemy fighter, which exploded into enough shrapnel to catch a neighbor in the blast.
There were a lot more neighbors though. My sight made it pretty easy to see them through the hull. Seket couldn’t take them all. The storm made that impossible. Too much attention went to survival.
“How do we get through this, Siwit?” I turned my attention on the necromancer, and hoped that he wanted to live as much as I did.
“Tell the pilot to focus on flying. Head deeper into the storm, but not toward the holy city.” Siwit closed his eyes and muttered something that sounded like a prayer, then opened them again. “We must follow the storm to its source. He will find a trio of Catalysts. Make for the body of Hotep, the water god. Cycle willing, their ships will turn back from those turbulent skies, rather than risk angering the Djinn fighters.”
“Will they give us up for dead?” I rose shakily to my feet
. We needed to get our gear together, as it sounded like we’d need to leave the ship when we hit the Catalyst. Cold weather gear from the sound of it.
The Remora tumbled, and I barely caught myself against the couch as tools and a few of Briff’s empty cans skittered across the deck, into the opposite wall…which split open as a bone harpoon punched into the room, then yanked us back toward the vessel that had fired it.
“Seket?” I tried not to raise my voice four octaves, and kept it at a nice manly three.
“We are in trouble, Captain. We need to sever the tow cable.” He’d grabbed the stabilizing ring, and now guided the ship into a series of jerky maneuvers that failed to knock the harpoon loose. “They’re towing us out of the storm. I can’t stop it.”
“Lovely.” I yanked Dez from my holster. “Focus all spells on the right spur. We’re going to sever that thing. Miri, life bolts. Seket, whatever you’ve got.”
I started firing well placed void bolts, and managed to create some cracks in the bone, but didn’t noticeably damage the harpoon. Miri followed up with life bolts, but also failed to inflict significant damage. I considered using my weaken miracle, then remembered I already had.
“Very well.” Siwit rose wearily to his feet, and raised a hand to deftly sketch spirit sigils, a few water, and more spirit. It all happened so quickly. Why was everyone a better spell caster than I was? The sigils fused together, and he flung a ball of pale white energy at the harpoon.
The spell sank into the bone, and Siwit raised a hand. He flexed his fingers…and the harpoon twitched. He twisted his hand violently, and the weapon tore free of the deck, and was flung back out into the storm.
Hail and larger shards of ice pelted us through the sudden gap, and I raised a hand to shield myself against the barrage. This I could deal with. I fired a gravity sphere at the breach, and when the spell landed it forced all the ice to gather into a single ball over the breach. After several seconds the ice overcame my spell, and the howling stopped.
