Sanctuary

by Chris Fox

  “Anyway.” I filled the awkward silence. “We need to stop Utred’s sister. Vee, can you get on the comm to Pickus and tell them that if they can’t find us a bigger god we’re about to lose Crewes? I can buy us…maybe three minutes.”

  “You’re not going out there.” Her scandalized expression drew a sudden swelling of fondness for some reason. “Jerek, that’s suicide. And they’ll have your armor.”

  “I…you need to trust me.” I didn’t understand precisely what I was doing, only that Reeva had sent me back here to deal with this.

  “Jer, Jolene is here. She’s leading their forces.”

  “I know.” I went cold at that, then white hot. I’d been trying not to think about Jolene. “Okay, the rest of you work with whoever’s in charge to take Jolene down while I distract Utred’s sister. Guardian? Are you around?”

  Kemet’s void form appeared with a pair of staff sparkles. “Welcome home, Captain. I was hoping you might summon me. We are in dire straights it seems.”

  Him awarding that title confirmed my mother’s death, but I refused to acknowledge it.

  “Can you give me tactical on the rest of the battle?” Before I rushed in I needed to understand how the Spellship fared.

  “Of course.” An illusion appeared in the air showing the Kemet system. A cloud of necromancer ships swarmed the tiny beleaguered Confederate fleet, which cowered behind the Spellship. The Spellship held its own, but was clearly outmatched. There seemed to be no end to Necrotis’s forces, either.

  At least the trade moon had stopped firing, though presumably it would resume soon.

  “Damn it. So Lady Voria can’t help us. We’re on our own. All right, I’m going out there.” I sketched a void sigil with my thumb, and slid out the back of my suddenly translucent armor. “Vee, hold onto this. I saw Inura passed you something to guard. Add the Heka Aten. Do not let them get it. Seket, get her to a ship and off the Word.”

  Her cheeks heated again when I mentioned Inura passing her something, but I ignored it.

  “What about us?” Miri and Rava stood with their spellrifles out, ready for a fight.

  “Rava, find the leader, and have them fall back to the pyramid. We’re buying time for them to figure out a solution.” I shook my head and realized I had no real plan. “I’m just sort of winging this.”

  I walked out the armory’s broad double doors, and down Highspire’s wide stairs. I used a bit of fire to amplify my voice. It boomed through the hold, deafening students and drawing the Devourer’s attention. “Hey, lady. I just locked Utred the putrid outside our reality. Your brother is gone. He won’t be coming back.”

  She turned to face me, a scythe held absently in one hand while the other wielded a necrotech equivalent of a spellshield. She smiled then, and gathered her six remaining legs under her. The chains besetting Crewes detached from her armor, and continued to entrap the fire god, freeing the goddess to come for me.

  The Devourer vaulted into the air, and sailed all the way through the hold to land on the steps, just below me in a tremendous crash. Her claws sank into the ancient stone, marring a precious artifact the way she’d marred her own body.

  “Ah, the boy.” She studied me as one might a line of ants. “I had no idea what you were back in the spellcannon when I allowed you to effect repairs that day. I should have killed you then. I can sense the truth of your words. My brother really isn’t coming back, is he? How did you do it?”

  “He did it to himself.” I shrugged and tried not to look happy at her brother’s misfortune. I knew we were enemies, but when standing next to the lion the mouse tries to be meek. “The city trapped him. He can’t leave without a host body, and the city won’t let him take one. He’s stuck.”

  “I see.” She offered a delighted laugh, then scuttled toward me. “Did you know that I killed your mother, boy? Search your memory for her name. It is gone, because I have consumed it.”

  I almost rolled my eyes. Of course I knew my mother’s…Mom’s name was…I couldn’t remember. Couldn’t summon it. Had she really taken my mother’s very name? I couldn’t even grieve now.

  Jerek, Kemet’s voice sounded in my head. I can teleport you away now. Flee. If you are alive they cannot appoint another captain. You must not let them have the second set of armor, or your life.

  I heard his words, but didn’t respond. I might be able to flee somewhere else on the ship, but she’d just follow. There was no getting away, only stalling. The safest way to do that was to keep her interested, and gloating.

  “You ate her name.” My eyes narrowed and my fist tightened. I let her see my rage, impotent as it was. That was what she really craved. “But you failed to take Inura’s. I saw that. He still exists, and we’ll always honor his memory.”

  I don’t know how I instinctively said the thing that would most piss her off, but I’d managed it. The Devourer’s eyes tightened, and she reached for a magic within her. It cast like a war mage, a physical manifestation, but the spell was more like true magic.

  “This ends, boy.” Her will washed over me, implacable as gravity. “What is your name, child? Give it to me?”

  Her mouth widened, so wide, and a wave of spiritual tendrils came out. I knew they were coming for me. I knew I couldn’t dodge them. At least I could be a flippant little prick before I died. “I am Captain Poopy Pants, and this is my vessel, the stink factory.”

  The tendrils swarmed out at me as she gave an enraged shriek. I don’t think she understood why her binding hadn’t worked. I closed my eyes, thrilled that I’d pissed her off moments before my death.

  When that death didn’t come I risked opening an eye. The woman glared at me, her nostrils flaring as rage overtook her. “Why can’t I affect you? My bindings? My soul eater? Nothing works.”

  Her scythe flashed out and the blade punched through my chest in a spray of my own blood. She whirled me around to gain momentum, and flung my armored form down the Highspire steps. Bones broke with every bounce, and by the time I reached the bottom I couldn’t rise.

  The pain was everything.

  I poured life into myself, which healed the worst of it. Behind me came scuttling, and I turned to see a second necromancer. Wait…was that…Jolene? She really was alive, though definitely not the same. The woman smiled cruelly, as I desperately attempted to heal my wounds. Briff’s shadow fell over me, and I glanced up to see Miri and Rava peppering Jolene with spells from seats on his back. They weren’t even bothering with the Devourer, and why should they? We couldn’t hurt that thing.

  Maybe I could take Jolene down before I died, but I’d just learned the hard way that whatever mark Sanctuary had placed on me wouldn’t stop physical damage. That meant my death was imminent…or so I thought.

  The Devourer sailed over me in a leap, and landed next to Crewes’s bound form. The chains had completed their work, and he now lay with his limbs pinned at his sides, muscles bulging as he fought in vain to free himself. “Lady, you better kill me quick. ‘Cause if I get loose I’m going to cram that harness up your butt piece by piece. And not like, in a sexual way.”

  Brave words, but they did nothing to still my terror. She was going to finish Crewes, and then finish me, and then the Spellship. If there was any consolation it was that I’d bet dirt to scales that the Devourer would turn on Necrotis next. Maybe they’d kill each other.

  Small comfort as I drew Dez and decided to make Jolene pay before I died. Why had I taken my armor off? A relic hunter with a pistol. Not exactly a threat.

  “Hey, Jerek?” Miri touched my arm, her appearance startling me. “Ah, where’s Kurz? We could really use him against Jolene.”

  I glanced around and my heart sank. “Oh, crap.”

  I’d left the soulcatcher with the necromancers when I used the Matrix. I’d literally forgotten to bring my girlfriend’s brother back from a hostile situation after getting my “ward” killed.

  Yup, just as bad at this as I always had been.

  Interlude XI
>
  Siwit didn’t know if he would ever grow used to this body. It was so much younger than his own, still driven by primal needs. In this case, it was also infused with air, which meant every cell had been charged with lightning.

  The longer they spent together the more each learned about the other, and Siwit found the Djinn society fascinating. The boy he’d possessed had “taken the flesh” for the first time. For the entirety of his eighteen years he’d existed as magic, inside the Blade of Virkonna.

  All Djinn lived as lightning, in one commune within the metal. They were literally a part of the blade, and leaving it terrified them. They knew it as taking the flesh, and it generally only happened for short periods.

  When he’d escorted Daito and Zoe here they’d encountered a Djinn teen, even younger than the body he now wore. The boy Anzu had carried himself with honor, despite his fear, and Siwit had never known what it had cost him. Now that he was a part of a Djinn mind he understood.

  Siwit regretted his actions. Not enough that he would do otherwise, but it wasn’t fair to the body he’d borrowed. Nor was it fair that he was now stealing a fighter from the same Djinn.

  It had taken long hours to scale the blade. He’d considered merging with the metal, and making the trip in seconds, but had no idea what that would do to his binding. It might eject Siwit back into the spirit realm.

  So he’d climbed, and now at long last reached the crossguard, where the Catalyst crackled with divine fury. A tremendous lightning storm, with impossibly fierce winds, shrieked and raged all around him. It obliterated sound, and light for the most part.

  Had the Djinn fighters been guarded, those guards would have been pointless, unless they sat in the cockpit. There was simply too much noise. However, the ships were curiously not guarded.

  Siwit approached the closest one and climbed into the cockpit, where the reason for the lack of security became clear. The cockpit wasn’t merely cramped. It wasn’t a cockpit. It existed as a cubby for the pilot to store their gear, but the pilot themselves merged with the vessel.

  That meant no choice but finding out what happened when he merged with metal. Siwit shrugged, and willed his host body to shift to air and join the fighter. No sense lingering in doubt. Either it worked, or it didn’t.

  To his immense delight he flowed into the vessel, and maintained control over the host. That likely meant his climb had been unnecessary, and he filed that fact away in case it was useful later. He prayed he never came back to this wretched place.

  Siwit willed the fighter into flight, and it blasted off into the atmosphere. Since the Djinn only had air magic to work with, the fighter relied primarily on thrust, which differed considerably from a souldrive. Being an indifferent pilot at the best of times, Siwit struggled against the winds, and very nearly crashed into the blade itself before being caught in an updraft, and taken up and away through no skill of his own.

  From there the flying grew easier. Because he attempted to fly with the winds they carried him instead of buffeting him, and he zipped back toward skies he knew. Because he’d come aboard the Remora, his own vessel had survived, but the Surfer lay in the hold of the Epoch, which likely lay inside the Maker’s Wrath.

  Unless he wanted to attempt a daring rescue he’d been reduced to the captain of a fighter without a cockpit. He sensed glee from his host, and returned amusement. You realize that I will let you and your fighter go as soon as I find a host body, yes? It is in your best interest to pray for luck.

  The host didn’t pulse any particular emotion, and Siwit didn’t press. The host had a right to be incensed, though Siwit would let him go eventually. If he was a skilled pilot he’d have little trouble making it home. If not…well, Siwit would sleep soundly in his vat-grown body as soon as it was prepared.

  A vat required a capital ship though, which meant he needed to locate a shipfather. Ideally his own shipfather. Siwit coasted on the storm, and instinctively flew toward Telek’s Eddy, an area no one unfamiliar with dared to risk. The magnetic interference meant essentially flying blind, and a pilot had to go by feel and experience.

  Siwit easily glided toward the eddy, and about two hours later reached the swirling green clouds. Asteroids thundered as they collided, each detonation sending up spectacular billows in the cloud. Bits of shrapnel pinged off the outside of the hull, but Siwit knew they were no real danger, unless the armor on this thing was paper.

  He curled around the worst of the eddy, then accelerated to maximum velocity and allowed the storm to fling him blind. This was the real trick. His speed punched through the magnetic fields, though it temporarily killed the drive.

  Siwit was just wondering how to restart it when it kicked to life on its own. He’d done it! He was inside the eddy itself, a protected calm where shipfather had created one of his bolt holes.

  Elation soared when Siwit spotted a dozen capital ships, and twice as many smaller vessels. There should be more, but a considerable fleet lurked here. There was no sign of the shipmother, nor of any other great captains. If he read the fleet correctly, then shipfather might be the senior most officer.

  What had happened to the rest? Had they gone over to Necrotis? Or perhaps a kinder fate…been obliterated? There was only one way to know.

  Siwit opened a broad channel. Speaking required immense concentration, as you vibrated electricity through a box to simulate a digitized voice. “Shipfather, it is Siwit, returned from discharging my obligation to see the boy Jerek to Sanctuary. I have taken a Djinn fighter, and need a body.”

  He flew slowly and on a straight course, and prayed they believed him. Several tense moments passed as he approached the shipfather’s vessel, not the Epoch, but the Windrider, a smaller cruiser that packed impressive armament. His vessel before the Epoch.

  Siwit landed in docking bay two of two, then willed his host body to materialize. Siwit retrieved the boy’s spellblade and clothing from the compartment, then started for the bridge. Shipfather did not come to meet him, so he had to make the entire journey in silence.

  The vessel’s lights were running at twenty percent, an energy saving measure. This ship had not been ready to fly again when shipfather had taken her up. Yet she was what he had, and clearly he was making due. He needed help maintaining her. Help Siwit could provide.

  Siwit grinned as he entered the bridge and saw shipfather lounging in the captain’s chair with a beer can cradled in one hand. Uldris delivered a lopsided smile. “Lovely news, for once. You’ve become a wraith. I knew dere was potential. Dere’s got to be a story, but we need to save it unless you can tell us how to get inside Sanctuary.”

  He shook his head. Siwit would not tell even the little bit he’d learned about the city. Miri had sent word that Jerek had vanished, but that was the last he’d heard. Just as well.

  “Nothing I know is relevant.” Siwit dropped briefly to one knee, then rose and stood at attention. “Shipfather, I’m here to serve in whatever capacity you or shipmother wish.”

  “Shipmother is gone.” Shipfather crumpled his can and tossed it in the growing pile in the corner. “Necrotis baited us into attacking directly. We knew it for a fool’s errand, but we thought we at least had a chance. We didn’t. Not a single one of us made it in range to fire. She used a soulcannon to amplify a spirit vortex, and sucked every last ghost into the maw o’ that Great Ship. Liches who’ve been flying for twelve millennia were snuffed out. Their vessels belong to her. Their bodies, and souls, belong to her. I don’t know what she’s done to shipmother, but I’d wager it’s joost terrible. I’m your shipfather no longer. The fight’s gone out of me. She’s won.”

  “No.” Lightning crackled all around Siwit, electricity arcing into the floor and walls as anger rose. “We don’t give up. We do not let her rule our skies.”

  “And what are we going to do against that monster?” Shipfather gestured and a holographic cutaway of the Maker’s Wrath flickered to pale life, their ship displayed beside it. They didn’t even register, the dif
ference in size was that large. “We cannot destroy a Great Ship, or even get close.”

  Siwit smiled grimly, and thought of Jerek. “I know someone who can. We have powerful allies, if they survive anyway. Even if they don’t. The Confederacy wants to stop Necrotis, at any cost. We offer ourselves as guides. They can’t fly the storm, but we can. If we keep out of her grasp, keep moving, then when the time comes the Spellship and maybe even the Word of Xal will come for her. We can’t stop her, but they can.”

  “And when they’re done?” shipfather—no, Uldris now—still quibbled. Respect drained from Siwit as the man he’d once respected continued. “The Confederacy will wipe us out. They’ve no love for us. Why do you think we’ve cowered here?”

  “Go down to the hold, and prepare the vat.” Siwit stabbed a finger at the shipfather, and harnessed his rage. “This isn’t your ship any more. Nor your fleet. I am shipfather now. We’re going to take back our skies, and if the Confederacy betrays us, then we’ll use the storm to break their fleets.”

  A tear streaked down Uldris’s cheek. At first Siwit assumed the drifter must be upset, but then he realized they were tears of joy. His mentor was proud.

  “We have a leader.” Uldris leapt from the captain’s chair and dropped to one knee. “I gladly serve you, shipfather.”

  24

  Turns out I’m a fickle bastard. I wanted to take down Jolene, I really did. My friends were certainly working on it. Briff continued to circle above her, providing a mobile gun emplacement for Rava and Miri which also afforded excellent cover, even while adding plasma breath every ten or fifteen seconds. Seket had just reached her in melee, and activated his aura, which she didn’t much like.

  Like I said…I wanted Jolene dead. But I also knew that Crewes had saved us. When Bortel had been sent by Jolene to wipe us out, the fire god had come through and stopped them. Him and that Aran guy. So I owed him. I couldn’t let the Devourer have him without at least trying to stop her.