Sanctuary

by Chris Fox

  “I did.” I willed my mask to slither from my face and looked her in the eye. “I met a deity there. Guy by the name of Reevanthara. Utred identified him as something called a Witness with a capital W. Does that mean anything to you?”

  “Yup,” Ikadra pulsed. “It means he was there at the beginning. He witnessed the creation of the first elder gods, and was himself one of the first titans. There’ve been hundreds of pantheons of varying strengths, but this was the first pantheon. I wish I could have met him.”

  “And this Witness,” Voria prodded the conversation forward. “What did he tell you?”

  “How our reality was created.” I shivered in spite of the hold’s relative warmth, the lingering effect of so many fire spells. “We robbed the Umbral Depths of light. That’s why the denizens attack vessels that enter their domain. That’s why they can’t come here. Anyway, he told me to go find Nara, and learn from her. That she knew who the true enemy is.”

  “Right now that’s Necrotis.” Voria’s mouth turned down into a frown. “I hope I don’t lose you to the dreamers and schemers, Jerek. We have precious few men of action. Nara is powerful, and useful, but she and Frit spend too much time borrowing trouble. My job is dealing with tangible, immediate threats. Do you agree that Necrotis is the primary thing we need to deal with?”

  I did, but before admitting it I considered other threats. These denizens were devouring reality in an attempt to reach the Cycle. I imagined Nara’s role was preventing that. I could help, but still prosecute a war against the necromancers.

  “We’re about to be in a war.” I rested my free hand on Dez’s grip, and holding both her and Ardaki comforted me somehow. Along with my armor I felt a proper badass. “Whatever deal you had with my mother died with her. This ship won’t be a pawn. We aren’t an asset of the Confederacy. From this day forward we are the nation of Kemet. I will begin constructing an administrative body, and will pick up from my mother’s no doubt copious notes. She was an amazing administrator, as was the headmistress.”

  “Jerek.” Voria rubbed her temples in what I tried not to take for a patronizing way. “You are what? Twenty? You are appointing yourself the ruler of your own nation, and claiming one of the greatest ships in the sector as your own?”

  “You mistake yourself, Voria.” Real anger burned in me, the death of my mother, and the loss of my father, and the Remora, and…all of it just piling up. “This is my ship. I passed the trials. I woke him. I’ve guided him. I fueled the drive. Yeah, I’m twenty. How old is Aran? Twenty-five? How about Crewes? Or you? I don’t think any of you are over fifty, but you’re playing at being gods.”

  “You’re on dangerous ground.” Voria’s eyes became an inferno of life, blazing stars containing all her fury. “I understand you have suffered loss. Grief brings out anger. But we must be rational about this.”

  “I am.” I released Dez, and relaxed my posture. She wasn’t my enemy. “No one will look out for my people like I will. My mother would, but she’s gone. I don’t trust any of your people. Your next request is going to be giving up my armor, and I won’t do that. I won’t step aside so you can put a puppet in charge of our people’s legacy. We’re going to make this ship our own. We’re going to clean out every last deck, and bring it back to working order.” I glanced around until I spotted an exhausted Vee a few meters away. “Vee will be our chief artificer, and will take over where Inura left off. She worked with him before the end. I’ll petition to Xal’Kazon to see if he’ll come visit our ship, and in turn maybe they’ll let us come visit the Bulwark.”

  True alarm entered Voria’s eyes. This was a woman who’d thought herself in control, and now realized that control had been an illusion. The demons had taken the Bulwark. I had the Word of Xal, and wasn’t going to give it up. We weren’t her military, as I think she’d assumed us to be.

  “A prudent choice.” She shook her head and sighed. “I’ve also lost a parent today, and I’m behaving badly. Of course we’ll petition to have Kemet join the Confederacy. Your military contribution all but guarantees the Ternus vote, and you have Shaya. I expect you’ll be ratified before the week is out. In the meantime I’ll put Pickus at your disposal, and he’ll help you implement my agreement with your mother.”

  “And in exchange?” There was always a cost.

  “In exchange you agree to accept Confederate orders for this vessel.” She replaced a stray hair in her bun, such a human gesture. “You may refuse anything that jeopardizes your people, but I want to know you’ll support me in a war against against Necrotis…and possibly other threats.”

  What other threats did she mean? It sounded reasonable enough. We needed the material aid she’d be able to provide to get the ship back on its feet just as much as she needed us to fight for her. “All right, deal. We’ll take orders. Get us ratified, get us enough aid to get on our feet, and we’ll help you beat Necrotis.”

  “Excellent.” Voria tapped Ikadra once, and I instinctively answered with Ardaki. “Until we meet again, Captain.”

  Then she was gone.

  I turned to peer down the steps at the surviving students. There were still nearly a thousand of us left. Enough to run a Great Ship, and we could grow from there.

  There was just one lingering concern. I was no general. No battlefield commander. But I knew where to find one.

  Interlude XIII

  Voria held back the tears and the rage and the fear. She kept it all at bay and listened as the new Inuran matriarch continued to rail at her through the holoscreen. Voria couldn’t focus on the woman’s words.

  Her mind kept turning back to the day’s events. She’d invited Aran to claim a Great Ship, and doing so had won the battle. Had she not, then the Devourer would probably have killed her and Crewes. She had no illusions about that. Crewes was powerful, but he had the strength of a single fire Catalyst, with no worship.

  Aran had proven how much greater he was in that fight. Like Crewes he was the Guardian of a Catalyst. Unlike Crewes his Catalyst was no minor fire god, a fragment of the deity Shivan. Aran’s deity was Xal, a titan, with millions upon millions of worshippers.

  She’d seen how Ternus had rallied around him during the last war. Aran just won. He beat superior foes, and superior forces, and just kept going. What nation wouldn’t rally around someone like that? He was the perfect hero, and in addition to the demons he still had followers throughout the sector. Not everyone had stopped cheering for him when he’d sprouted horns.

  Were it up to Aran alone dread would not have taken root in the fertile soil of her imagination, but it wasn’t up to Aran. Sooner or later his demons would demand conquest, and he wouldn’t be able to keep them in check. They’d come for the Confederacy. It was their nature. They were warlike to a fault, just like her people.

  “Are you even listening?” the Matriarch snapped. What was her name again? They all looked the same. This woman could have been Jolene’s twin, save for an even poutier mouth, and that she wore her lustrous chestnut hair long. “I said we’re suing. We want the full construction price for that trade moon. The demons destroyed it in an act of aggression days before we could launch our salvage operation.”

  “Those demons,” Voria interjected, dropping her internal monologue, “won us the day. True, they were there illegally, but they assaulted an unliving installation, not an Inuran one. No living mage remained on that planet at the time it was assaulted. The demons reclaimed it, and have offered second salvage after they took the spoils of war.”

  “Took everything not welded or bolted down, you mean.” The woman’s pouty face dearly craved a punching. “There is nothing left save the superstructure, and we will see this rectified in the courts.”

  “All right.” Voria rubbed her temples, which no longer provided the relief it had when she was a mortal. Habits died slow. “Sue them. Aran is honorable and will show up in court. Convince a court that they didn’t solve your problem for you, if you can.”

  That shut her up.
>
  “Was there anything else?” Voria glanced up and glared with her full divinity. “Do you wish to waste any more of my time, or may I now grieve for my mother?”

  “I’ll be in touch.” Pouty terminated the missive. Voria really should learn her name.

  That sent her thoughts spiraling. This could devolve quickly. Ternus, the Krox, and the demons all stood on opposite sides. Crewes would, if asked, oppose Aran. He’d try to reason with Aran first, and ask him to back down. If that failed he’d fight. Would Aran kill him? No. But Nara might. And Malila or one of the other demonic princes definitely would.

  Where would Frit land? She had no love for Voria or the Confederacy, but genuinely hated Aran, and feared him Voria would wager. Yet she loved Nara. So many conflicting loyalties. How did she prevent this from turning into civil war, and the sector tearing itself apart again?

  There had to be a way.

  At least Jerek had been a victory. The boy no longer. He’d grown into a captain, and while inexperienced she had to remind herself that he’d accomplished nearly as much as Aran and his crew had in the same span of time.

  She needed his Great Ship, and believed him to be a strong ally. He was guided by his conscience, and truly had the best interests of his people in mind.

  There had to be a way to bring him and Aran into the storm to hunt Necrotis. The smartest thing the necromancer could do was bide her time. Voria simply could not give her that respite. But how did she find a way into that storm? And how did she convince everyone that the unseen fleets were a threat worth pursuing?

  Aran had recently returned, and claimed the storm to be inhospitable even to gods. There was endless space to hide a Great Ship in that cosmic monsoon, and Necrotis was well warded against scrying.

  Problems upon problems, with precious few solutions.

  “What about Ardaki? My bro.” Ikadra pulsed. She didn’t know when their link had deepened to the point where the staff could hear her thoughts. Maybe he always could. At least he seemed to have recovered from whatever bout of depression had afflicted him. Pre-mourning the loss of Inura? Had he known what was going to happen?

  “What about Ardaki?” She sat down at her nightstand and began her one hundred strokes with the same silver-handled brush she’d used the night Nara had assassinated her. “He belongs to Jerek, and keeping him separate from you means you can’t be taken as easily. It’s why you were split in the first place.”

  “That’s not what I meant.” Ikadra’s sapphire pulsed thoughtfully. “We amplified each other. A lot. And we weren’t aboard the Spellship. What would happen if you did this badass dual-wield thing and, like, had me and Ardaki on the bridge of the Spellship? I feel like that’s what dad was building toward. Seems like you could really wreck some demons with that setup, you know, if they get uppity.”

  Voria prayed it didn’t come to that. The trouble was…who could she pray to?

  Another missive chimed, and she accepted it, surprised as Davidson’s holographic face filled the corner of her room. “I’ve had seven beers and two shots and this news still tastes worse than I will in the morning.” He scratched at his ever thicker blond beard. “Ternus is in an uproar about the assault on the trade moon. They claim that the demons stole a Great Ship, and are demanding action. They want the ship turned over for auction to all members of the Confederacy.”

  Of course they did. Ternus possessed most of the wealth, and could afford to buy such a ship.

  “And what makes them think the demons will listen to us? Tell your people that if they want the ship they can go ask nicely for it.” Voria didn’t bother to shield her tone from the anger. Davidson could handle it, and knew it wasn’t directed at him. “Tell them to bring it up in council, and we’ll formally address it. That’s the best I can do.”

  Horror bloomed as she predicted how events were likely to unfold. Ternus wouldn’t see Necrotis as a threat. They’d beaten her children fairly easily. They’d destroyed her trade moon and her fleet. Necrotis had sacrificed a corner of the Kem’Hedj board, and in exchange directed her opponent’s attention elsewhere, leaving her true theater safe from tampering.

  Ternus would go for the demons, and leave Necrotis to grow in strength. That bitch was about to start a civil war, and Voria didn’t know if she could stop her.

  27

  By the time I made it to my quarters I’d moved well beyond exhaustion, and had no idea what time it was. Or what day it was. Tomorrow, whatever that meant. I’d dealt with the first crop of problems, and had appointed my first groups of officers.

  They were helping to form committees, though some of the structure had already been put into place by my mother. The trouble was many of the links were missing. Hundreds of students had died, and that left knowledge gaps we had to fill.

  The work wasn’t the worst thing I’d ever done, but it was exhausting, and required constant decisions. I needed some space to relax, and maybe sleep. I needed to appoint a first officer before retiring, though.

  Not just yet. The door to my quarters dissolved and I stepped through into the captain’s chambers, which still bore the stamp of my mother. She’d placed her artwork, her books, and her desk within the room. The place felt a tomb, but not in a morbid way. In a way that honored my mother, and made me remember her fondly.

  We hadn’t been close. She’d moved out and done her own thing, after all, leaving me and Dad to fend for ourselves. Objectively I knew that was a shitty thing to do, but I also believed she’d had a right to be happy, and had found that in the minister….

  The minister. I hadn’t spoken to her since coming back. I had no idea where her flagship even was, or what system she was in. She could be aboard now. But I’d just declared us an independent nation, and effectively eliminated her position in the process. I couldn’t imagine that sitting well with her, and knew I’d have a fight on my hands.

  I also knew, thanks to Visala, the student body hated the minister, and hoped they would back my play if and when she came for me.

  A chime sounded as someone arrived outside my quarters.

  “Come,” I yelled as I rested Ardaki against the wall next to me.

  The door dissolved to admit Vee, her scarlet hair tied in a simple ponytail, and who looked as exhausted as I must. “Can I come in for a bit?”

  The tension between us grew the closer she got, and I had no idea how I was supposed to be with her. Did we kiss? Wave?

  I rose and gave her a fierce hug, then returned to a hovercouch, one large enough for her to join me on. She sat on the hovercouch across from me, which strangely crystalized something I hadn’t realized I’d been ruminating over. I knew what I had to do.

  “What’s up?” I knew what I wanted to say now, but as she’d come to see me I wanted to let her speak her piece.

  “I…I’m not sure where to begin. So much has happened since you left.” She pulled her knees up to her chest, and agony twisted her features. I knew guilt when I saw it.

  “I saw the kiss with Inura. I saw him sacrifice himself…for you.” I figured that should give her the opening to talk about what really lurked under all this.

  “I…it was just a kiss, Jerek. We were never….” Unshed tears moistened her eyes.

  “You didn’t do anything wrong,” I pointed out, raising a hand to forestall her. “I flirted a bit with Miri, and kissing your god before he offs himself to defend your honor—hey, I get it.”

  “So what are you saying? Where do we stand?” Her voice had become a tiny thing.

  “You are our best artificer, and I need you in that role.” I leaned back against the couch, and enjoyed not being attacked for ten minutes. “I’m the captain again. I’ve lost my mother. You’ve lost your god and, much as I hate to admit it…maybe he was more than that to you. I can’t fault you for having feelings. But you know what? We don’t really have the luxury anymore. I don’t have room for relationship drama…not that we’ve had any. I just mean that I need to stay focused, you know? Maybe let’s
press pause on us, and tend to our respective areas.”

  She nodded gratefully, and brushed a stray lock of auburn from her face. “I’m so glad you understand, and that it’s…both of us. I don’t much feel like romance. I just want to learn, and help protect this place, before we’re attacked again. I just can’t turn it off. It doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

  “Me either.” I forced myself to my feet with a stretch and a yawn. “I have one more errand if you’re free.”

  “Oh?” She mirrored my yawn. “You got me.”

  “Come on.” I willed the Word to teleport us to the brig, and we appeared directly outside the only occupied cell.

  Bortel sat on his bench with two fingers scrubbing through a thickening beard that had gone more salt than pepper. He read a data pad, and if I had to guess he was probably reviewing the combat footage from the hold. He still wore his old uniform, from the unit he’d run during the assault on our vessel.

  “Hello, Bortel.” I moved to stand before the glowing energy field. “I’m not sure if you remember Vee.”

  “Captain. Vee.” Bortel offered the slightest of nods, then rose and approached the field. “To what do I owe the pleasure? And, before we begin, my condolences. I…your mother and I spoke several times and she was a good officer, and a good woman. I’m sorry.”

  I nodded and tried to deny how much his words hurt. I didn’t want to think about Mom’s death. I wanted to focus on business.

  Vee said nothing, and I imagined she was grateful to be past the conversation we’d just had. Neither of us had enjoyed that, but both of us knew it was the right step. Part of me realized that freed me to pursue things with Miri, but the rest knew that to be hormones talking.

  I needed to stay unattached.

  “You’re up on the battle?” I rested my hand on Dez. Having my armor on again afforded a confidence I hadn’t realized I’d lost when I took it off.