Press The Line: Ganog Wars Book 3

by Chris Fox

  Why wasn't I? I didn't know. I felt precisely zero fear, only a calm detachment.

  How was I going to escape? Rushing the guards was out. Their spell-rifles were covered in scarlet runes, each attuned to the wielder. At least their armor was un-enhanced, just the usual run of the mill environmental suit. It might stop a bullet, but it would do nothing to prevent a void bolt.

  "In a moment," the archmage began, the lights gleaming off his bare skull. "I will cast a ritual far greater than any of you have ever witnessed. I will seal Xal's ocular cavity behind us, creating a breathable atmosphere. The membrane will lower, and you must make a choice. Do you fight your captors?" The archmage waved absently at the guards, who snapped their rifles to their shoulders. "Or do you take your chances with the catalyst? Either way, you'll probably die. But your chances of living are slightly higher if you choose the catalyst. And, if you succeed, you'll gain power. Perhaps enough power to free yourself. Consider carefully."

  The archmage turned back to the guard holding his helmet, yanking it away and placing it over his head. He placed both hands on his spell-stave, sigils along its surface beginning to glow with soft green light. There were no words, no obvious gestures. It was nothing at all like the stories. Instead, it was one man straining to harness the forces of the gods.

  "Enjoy your power while you can, you smug bastard," Nara whispered hatefully. I glanced sidelong at her. Her eyes glittered, fixed on the archmage with the kind of intensity that made me glad I wasn't the subject of her ire.

  Two more guards came through the door above the catwalk, carrying a large crate. They labored under the weight, dragging it down the stairs toward the middle of the room. They passed between rows of slaves, who shrank away, hoping not to be noticed.

  The guards dropped the crate with a heavy thunk, then flipped open the lid. I rose slowly to my feet, realizing I was taller than most of the people around me. I stood on my tip-toes, craning my neck to get a glimpse in the box.

  "It's full of weapons," Nara whispered.

  I didn't ask how she knew. It didn't matter. What did was getting one. I pushed forward, threading between timid slaves. By the time I arrived a broad shouldered man with a thick black beard had reached into the box and withdrawn a spell-blade. He looked at the long slender weapon with distaste, dropping it as he turned back to the box.

  I darted forward, scooping the blade up before it hit the ground. Another slave had the same idea, and wrapped a hand around mine. My elbow shot back, almost of its own accord, catching the slave in the neck with a sickening crunch. He stumbled back choking, and I moved quickly away.

  Slaves were mobbing the box now that they realized what it contained. I backpedaled away from everyone, holding the blade lightly in one hand. The weight was off, the blade about two inches longer than I'd prefer.

  I gave an experimental slash, testing it. The weapon was a simple cutlass, with a metal hand guard, and a thick, chopping blade. Slower, and definitely less elegant than I was used to. How I knew that was unclear. I could recall no specific memory of owning or using a spell-blade, but I was positive I had.

  "It looks like you know how to use that," Nara said, sidling up to me. We stood against the wall, not far from the membrane. "Stick with me when the barrier goes down. Maybe we can keep each other alive."

  "All right," I said, nodding. I didn't trust Nara, despite the beautiful face, and doe eyes. She appeared innocent, but I'd already seen that mask slip. Maybe she had a reason for that kind of hatred, but reason or not it would change her...and not for the better.

  Something stirred restlessly inside of me, still slumbering but at the edge of wakefulness. Magic, I realized. Was I a mage, then? If so, which kind? What Aspects had I mastered? I suppose it didn't matter, not if I couldn't use any of the spells I'd learned. It was hard not to be curious though.

  Nara's gaze shot up to the catwalk, and mine followed. Wisps of purple and green light were gathering around Baldus, dashes of pale white joining them a moment later. The energy built and built until it obscured the archmage. Finally, it burst out, dispersing in a silent explosion.

  At first, I couldn't tell what was different. Then I realized that the membrane sealing the cargo bay was gone. I could see directly inside the catalyst. Ahead lay a field of bleached hills, the porous bone looking more like rock than the remains of a living creature.

  Behind it was a purple sun, blinding if I looked directly at it. That would make fighting difficult, giving the advantage to whoever had their back toward the glow.

  Suddenly, the chain between the manacles disappeared. They were still on my wrists, but I could move freely again.

  "Choose now mongrels," one of the guards roared. "Move, or be cut down where you stand."

  I tightened my grip on my blade, stepping out of the ship and into the catalyst. Then I moved quietly off to the side. It had the desired effect. Now that I'd moved outside the ship, others were as well. I had no desire to be the first to brave the glow, but thankfully the black-bearded man had no such reservations. He strode forward, a spell-stave clutched in both hands like a club.

  Three dozen slaves moved cautiously behind him. Before I followed, I took a moment to study the ship we'd arrived in. It was a long, sleek wedge, the dark surface covered in spell runes. Spellships were much more expensive to maintain than a traditional starship, but they were also capable of warping on their own. Whoever led this expedition had money.

  "We should follow them," Nara said. I whirled to face her.

  "How did you get behind me?" I demanded. I should have seen her, caught some sign of movement.

  "Does it matter? Come on, let's stick with the others." She followed the mass of slaves toward the glow.

  3

  DEMONS

  I followed Nara over another bony ridge, pausing to watch the front rank of prisoners. I could only make out silhouettes, dark shapes against the blinding purple glow. The temperature had dropped sharply, and I shivered violently despite the exertion.

  "Come on. Stick close to me," Nara urged, nodding after the others. She started trotting behind them, but circled wide until they reached the point where the ocular cavity sloped upward.

  She wasn't the only one heading that direction. Five or six others clung to the wall, moving slower than everyone else.

  "Why are we hanging back?" I asked through clenched teeth. I rubbed my hands together furiously, to no avail. She clearly knew something I didn't, and the others knew it too. After a moment I realized none of the others was wearing manacles, only me.

  "Watch," Nara whispered back, crouching behind a bone outcrop.

  I crouched next to her, laying against the rock. It sucked away whatever warmth hadn't already been stolen, but I forced myself not to move, not even to shiver. Dread washed over me, as palpable and numbing as an ocean tide. Something terrible was coming.

  More silhouettes appeared, these further back than the slaves. Those silhouettes were misshapen, and much taller. Metal clanked with every step, and I remembered Nara had called these techno demons.

  Words in an unfamiliar language echoed up the hallway, a harsh guttural tongue. Then a flurry of void bolts shot into the slaves. The bolts weren't precisely black. They were the complete absence of light, or energy, a gap in space. I winced knowing what a void bolt could to do an unarmored man. Half a dozen slaves dropped with agonizing cries, the closest no more than forty feet away. Everything from the waist up had simply ceased to exist.

  "Run," Nara barked. She turned to face the slaves, extending a spell-dagger. I felt the power stir in her, growing into a green and white nimbus around her blade. The energy discharged from the tip, splitting into a dozen bolts. Each bolt slammed into a slave, and those slaves began to grow.

  By the time I took my next step they were half again as large as a man. By the third they were the same height as the demons. Some slaves turned to run, but most charged the enemy, knowing the only way forward was through their enemies. Dark spots danced
in my vision, making seeing either friend, or foe, impossible. It was just too bright.

  Nara and the other debt-slaves sprinted past both demons and slaves, ignoring everything but the ever growing light. I stumbled urgently forward, forcing my legs to pump faster. I vaulted a man who tripped in front of me, staggering as I landed. I ran for all I was worth, ignoring the growing cold as I approached the light.

  I risked a glance over my shoulder. Some of the demons had turned back in my direction. One raised a spell-rifle with six barrels, and a large scope on the top.

  The demon roared, the barrels of its rifle beginning to spin. I dove to the right, dodging a hail of void bolts that disappeared over my shoulder. My spell-blade shot up, knocking a bolt aside as I dove again. I sprinted forward, reaching for something inside me, something eager to be used. Lightning crackled down my blade, power surging from me into the weapon.

  I brought the cutlass down in a sharp slash, one I knew the demon would block. It didn't disappoint. The demon raised a wide forearm, blocking the blade. The stored lightning shot up the demon's arm, crackling through its entire body. It convulsed, unable to defend itself. I decapitated it with a yell.

  Another demon approached, this one wearing a set of heavily modified spell-armor. It aimed its spell-cannon in my direction, firing another spray of void bolts. I somersaulted under them, then rolled to my feet. More demons were coming.

  I turned and dove into the light.

  4

  ENLIGHTENMENT

  I had no words to describe what came next. A vast, unknowable consciousness lay before me. An ocean of power and memory, to my single drop. I fell into the ocean, became that consciousness. The universe stretched out before me.

  I understood how the worlds had been created, how the stars were given form. I witnessed the making of all things, from the perspective of a god who'd not just seen, but had participated. Xal was not the oldest of gods, but he was among them.

  Understanding stretched beyond the comprehension of time. I saw the strands of the universe, how they were woven into fabric using magic. I understood the eight Aspects, and the greater paths that could be accessed by combining them.

  This power suffused me, endless, like space itself. If I wished, I could create a new species, or snuff one out with equal ease. Dimly, I was aware that I had a body. Aware of my petty temporal problems. They were inconsequential when compared with the vast infinity of Xal.

  Yet in my sudden understanding I also saw his undoing. I saw him attacked by a pantheon of younger gods, ambushed in the midst of his greatest work. I watched him defend against their assault, each side utilizing impossibly complex sorcery.

  In the end, I saw him die. No, die was not the right word. A god could not be killed. They could only be shattered, the pieces of their body forever seeking to reunite. I understood why the head of Xal had been severed.

  The younger gods had scattered the other pieces across the known universe, ensuring that it would be nearly impossible for Xal to resurrect. This filled me with rage, and loss, and pain. Xal's emotions, still echoing through his unconscious mind.

  I focused on the secrets of the universe, struggling to hold onto them. Briefly, I understood the illusion of time. I lingered with the knower of secrets, listening to his endless whispers.

  Something drew my attention, a speck of light that I'd only just noticed. It lay in my hand, so small that I'd missed it when compared to Xal's majesty. Dimly, I realized it was my spell blade. That spell blade was a living thing, waiting to be shaped.

  So I shaped it. I poured Xal's power into the blade, altering its shape to be more pleasing. I infused it with Void, the blade darkening even as it grew lighter. The intelligence within the blade grew more aware, capable of more complex thought. I forged a bond between us, connecting me to this new intelligence, as a child is connected to parent.

  Then, as suddenly as the experience had begun, it was over. I tumbled away from the majesty and power, secrets slipping from my mind like oxygen from a breached starship. I shivered, cold and barren in the wake of all that power. Only a tiny ember remained, smoldering coldly in my breast.

  I caught myself against a bony ridge, trembling and weak. I rose back to my feet, glancing back the way I'd come, at the purple sun, still as brilliant as ever. I no longer squinted. I no longer felt the cold. This place was home now, a part of me, just as I was a part of it.

  The blade still clutched in my right hand had changed. Instead of a cutlass, now I held an officer's saber, sleek and deadly. The weapon fit my hand as if molded to it, an extension of my body. In that blade I sensed the nascent intelligence I'd awoken within the catalyst. It wasn't capable of speech yet, but it had become aware.

  "I told you," Nara's voice said, far away. "He made it through, and he made it through first. Pay up."

  I turned toward her, blinking. She stood with a cluster of people, all wearing white. All had weapons, either spell pistols or spell daggers. They were the people I'd assumed to be debt slaves, but seeing them now I understood that had been a lie. A ruse to mask their true purpose.

  Looking around I saw no other slaves, no other survivors except me. Yet the debt slaves made no move to leave, so there was still hope others might make it through. Behind them stood another membrane, twin to the one Baldus had created in the other eye socket.

  The wedge-shaped spellship sat a few hundred paces away, large and silent. I tightened my grip on my spell blade, considering a desperate plan.

  5

  BETRAYAL

  Rage flashed through me, but burnt out quickly, denied the oxygen it needed to burn. Anger made me vulnerable. Even easier to manipulate than I already had been. I composed myself, straightening. Nara and her compatriots were laughing and joking.

  "You used us as bait, didn't you?" I asked, as emotionlessly as I could manage. Scorn leaked into my tone anyway.

  "Of course we did. I can't believe you fell for it. 'I'm a debt slave'," Nara said, rolling her eyes. She gave me a warm friendly smile, then moved to join me. "Becoming god-marked is a dangerous business. The demons here are both powerful and territorial. If we'd tried to do this on our own, none of us would have survived."

  "So you're not here to make void mages, you're here for void magic." It made sense. Making mages to sell was no doubt lucrative, but not as lucrative as becoming a more powerful mage yourself.

  "Both, really. Usually a few slaves survive. I'm betting we'll see one or two more, any minute now." She smiled warmly, clapping me on the shoulder. "Don't be so dour. You're alive, and you're more powerful now than when we picked you up."

  "Where did you pick me up?" I asked, closing my eyes. I finally understood what must have happened.

  "There's a mining colony just a 'port away from here. Baldus used a ritual to put the entire place to sleep. We just picked you all up, dressed you, and put you in the hold. We found you in the officer's barracks, and you had a spell blade. I don't know anything more than that," she explained. Nara gave me a flirtatious half-smile. "You're in a unique position, Aran. You get to start over, and you get to do it as a void mage."

  "Aran?" I asked, coldly.

  "Sure, you need a name don't you?" she asked, laughing. Nara brushed a lock of dark hair from her face, staring up at me with those doe eyes. So deceptive. How many marks had fallen to that innocence?

  "Your name backward?" I snorted. "Sure, why not? Aran it is."

  Behind her, I could see a group approaching from the ship. The four guards from the cargo hold escorted Baldus, walking slowly in their direction. Coming to claim his prizes, no doubt.

  "I know you blame me for this," Nara confided. She pursed her lips. "Are you sure that's fair? I'm not in charge, he is. He's the one who kidnapped your colony and tossed them into a catalyst, not me."

  She had a point. I knew she was merely deflecting blame, but I glared at Baldus anyway. Ultimately, he was the greater of two evils.

  I whirled instinctively as something moved behind
me. A man plunged out of the purple sun, landing in a crouch. Familiar broad shoulders tensed as the bearded man rose to his feet. He held a spell-stave in one hand, and like my own sword that stave had been reshaped to fit the wielder. Now it was a massive spiked club.

  His chest heaved, and his lip curled upward as he glared around him. "Which of you bastards is responsible for this?"

  "He is," Nara said, pointing at Baldus.

  "Not yet," I cautioned, taking a step closer to the bearded man. "It's possible more of us survived. If you're going to make a move I'll support you, but we'll stand a better chance with more help."

  The bearded man's eyes were wild, but after a long moment of indecision he finally nodded. "I'll wait, for now. But if no one else shows up, I'm going to kill that mage."

  "Two survivors, more than I expected," Baldus said, striding arrogantly up. One of the guards was holding his helmet again, but the other three held their rifles at the ready. He turned to Nara. "You've done well. Ready my bed, and have a glass of wine waiting." Baldus waved dismissively at Nara, missing her murderous gaze.

  "Now," I whispered to the bearded man, realizing we had a sliver of opportunity.

  He roared, sprinting toward Baldus. The archmage blinked in surprise, waving at his guards. I took a step in their direction, but before I could react Nara's spell-dagger was in her hand. A cloud of green and soft pink settled over all four guards, and they slumped to the ground. Dead or asleep, it didn't matter. They were out of the fight.

  I circled wide, moving into Baldus's blind spot. The bearded man had nearly reached him, but at the last second he popped out of existence, reappearing a moment later directly behind the archmage. I recognized the magic he used, and knew it had just been gifted to him by Xal.