Call of Destiny

by Adams, P R

  Quil squared his shoulders. “Where the lieutenant goes, I go. Not to mention, his reasoning in this specific instance is logical and sound.”

  Riyun winced. In this specific instance? That seemed harsh. “All right. So, Hirvok, you take Symbra and Naru and head…west? Wherever you think the dragons haven’t hit yet.”

  The sergeant kicked a chunk of rock away. “So I take the two most inexperienced, and you take my heavy weapons expert, medic, and scout.”

  “People are making their decisions here, not me.”

  Symbra stepped around Hirvok and crossed to Javika’s side. “I think it’s probably best if I give you one less hapless person to have to protect, Hirvok.”

  The distant sapphire glow drew closer, and after a few seconds Alush floated just overhead.

  Hirvok scowled. “Well, well, look who’s decided to join us.”

  Alush descended slightly. “I have been contemplating what has been revealed.”

  “Great! How about you tell everyone I’m right—we need to run?”

  “That is a hopeless undertaking. You will not survive the death of this world.”

  “I knew you’d say that.”

  Alush’s glow intensified. “Your leader speaks truth. The artifact survived even the dragon’s fire. Such magic cannot so easily be undone.”

  Relief flooded through Riyun. He’d been operating on faith, something he hated. “Where is it?”

  “Buried. I can take you to where you must dig.”

  “We’ll do that.”

  “Of more importance, I am now certain that I can track Meriscoya’s movements through this connection he has to the Chaos Abyss.”

  “What’s changed?”

  “I have now been exposed more fully to his power. He cannot hide his nature from me any longer.”

  His nature? Exposed to his power? Was the prophet learning how to use the drone’s sensors? “So you can track him?”

  “I can. And I will lead you.”

  Once again, Riyun wondered if he was succumbing to faith and hope rather than to discipline and rigorous thinking. Because he believed the words of a drone that had been transformed by magic. Part of his brain told him that Hirvok was right and that they should be running from this invincible enemy rather than pursuing it. Maybe they could find the way back that Aliat Dachul had used.

  But then all those who’d been killed by the dragons and by Meriscoya…

  Riyun extended a hand to Hirvok. “I understand your decision, Hirvok. I wish you success. No hard feelings.”

  The sergeant clenched his mouth shut and refused the proffered hand. Finally, he shook his head. “You’re going to get us all killed, Riyun.”

  “Not if I can help it.” Riyun grabbed the younger man’s hand and pulled him in for a hug. “Now, let’s go find this artifact. We’ve got a mad wizard to kill.”

  45

  One thing Riyun noticed very quickly was that a drone didn’t tire. By the fifth day, Alush had even Javika griping about the pace it maintained. Traveling through the hilly territory the prophet called Miroth didn’t help. The dragons had left the lands to the south mostly unscathed, although there were still the occasional large swathes burned to the earth. Even traveling through those areas was more pleasant than the plains to the north.

  As they made camp on the fifth night, Riyun decided it was time to talk to the drone-prophet.

  Alush hovered atop a high hill, its ever-present magical glow little more than a faint glimmer. Humming came from what had been the sensor module mounted beneath the front hood, and Riyun thought the machine might be spying on a distant village.

  He made a point of knocking a rock free so that it loudly clattered against a collection of stones at the base of the hill. When the humming stopped, he proceeded forward. “Alush, you have a moment?”

  The drone slowly turned toward him. “A pleasant night is promised by the gentle breeze. With warmer temperatures like this, truly you will find sleep. The scent of zokavur is pleasant, is it not?”

  “Is that the bright red flowers?”

  “It is. They offer some medicinal benefit, particularly for troubled bowels. You should collect some before the last petals wither and die.”

  Riyun winced. “We’re all doing better now, thanks. All that rich food after subsisting on…” It was ridiculous trying to explain human functions to a machine. “I need to talk to you.”

  “You represent your people in their complaints.”

  “It’s an aggressive pace.”

  “Such a pace should be manageable by soldiers.”

  “We’re mercenaries, but I understand your point. Thing is, you’re asking us to move like this while we maintain a defensive posture. It’s pushing everyone. We’re taking risks.”

  “Meriscoya does not slow his progress.”

  “He’s staying on the move?”

  Buzzing came from Alush’s maneuvering systems, as it turned back toward the distant sparkle of campfires. “At the moment, he is stationary. We can…slow.”

  That was something, at least. Riyun nodded toward the distant fires. “Are those more of the nomads you told us about, or do we have to worry about humans doing his work now?”

  “Those are Mirothi nomads. Soon, they will find a place for the winter.”

  “But all the fires have made that harder, right?”

  “Their lifestyles have been disrupted.”

  “Those villagers we talked to last night, they made it sound like the dragons don’t like this place. Why’s that?”

  “The bow they gifted the warrior woman—”

  “Javika.”

  “—is the weapon these people are known for. Heroes in their distant history felled dragons with such.”

  Riyun frowned. “You keep talking about these things being killed that can’t be killed.”

  The drone turned back around slowly. “It is said that a dragon slain by normal means is simply reborn. Only magic ensures the complete destruction of such beings.”

  “Reborn… Not full-grown, right?”

  “Not full-grown.”

  That was a relief, although Riyun was skeptical of the claim that killing a dragon with conventional weapons wasn’t enough. It sounded like the sort of publicity some mercenary companies used. “So, what makes that group of nomads so special to you?”

  “Special?”

  “You’ve been watching them since we made camp.”

  “Nomads survive in many different ways. Most raise livestock and trade with villagers. Cheese and butter, and sometimes meat, in exchange for vegetables and grains.”

  “But not these particular nomads.”

  “They do not heard livestock. They have more horses than normal. There are more men than women.”

  “Bandits?”

  Once more, the drone turned back toward the distant fires. “Yes. Although, these do not appear to be the most dangerous type. Raiding other bandits and nomads would seem the most likely method of survival for them.”

  “Do we need to avoid them?”

  “They are aware of us.”

  “Great. I’ll double the watch strength.”

  “Caution would be prudent.”

  There were eight separate fires, which might indicate anywhere from a dozen to fifty of the raiders. Dragon-killing bows or not, it wasn’t a big enough force to be a serious concern, but disposing of them would consume ammunition and time. “Can we get to where we’re going without running into them?”

  “By morning, this will be apparent.”

  “And you mind telling me where it is we’re going?”

  “You have asked before.”

  Riyun bit his tongue. He really didn’t like the prophet. “I don’t think my people pose a threat to your secrecy.”

  “Maintaining secrecy ensures the word has meaning.”

  That was the end of the conversation. As Riyun hurried down the hillside, he reminded himself that they needed the drone to find Meriscoya and his dragons.
Once there was no longer a need for the drone…

  Hirvok hurried over from where the others were setting out their sleeping gear. “Hey! What’s the word? We slowing down tomorrow, or do we dump this guy?”

  “We can’t ditch him.”

  “Then we’re slowing down.”

  “Yes. Some. But we’ve got a problem.”

  “Worse than Captain Speedy?”

  “Bandits. Double up the watch tonight.”

  “Oh, that’s going to go over well. Everyone was looking forward to catching some sleep.”

  Riyun squeezed his eyes shut. “We don’t have a choice, Hirvok.”

  “Yeah, we sort of ran out of those when we decided not to run, didn’t we?”

  “Drop it.”

  The younger man drew closer. “You made the wrong decision, and now—”

  Punching the sergeant would cause more trouble than it was worth, so Riyun held up a hand for silence. “We can talk about this later. For now, work out the watch details.”

  Muscles bulged along Hirvok’s jaw. “Always with the, ‘talk about it later.’ You keep screwing up, and these people keep supporting you.”

  “They do, mistakes and all. Maybe you should think about that. What does that say about you?”

  Riyun didn’t give the younger man a chance to say more, pushing past and heading to where the squad was settling in. Javika, Lonar, and Naru were on the far side of the camp, while Symbra and Hirvok had set their backpacks on the near side. As was typical, Quil was off on his own. He spent most nights studying the artifact they’d dug from the rubble and seemed absorbed in exactly that at the moment.

  Lonar looked up from where he’d been smoothing his bedroll. “More fighting, Lieutenant?”

  “Just a misunderstanding.” Riyun almost felt the glare from Javika. “We ironed it out.”

  She wasn’t convinced but went back to cleaning her weapons.

  The tweak chuckled. “Hirvok’s not so bad once you get some beers in him.”

  How common was it for someone with Lonar’s background to be so forgiving? Riyun imagined it was a pretty rare thing. “We all have problems.”

  “I guess so.” Lonar laid out on the roll, hands locked behind his head. “I think he just doesn’t understand what it’s like.”

  Naru flashed an angry sneer. “He knows this was a bad idea.”

  “It’s all been a bad idea. Not whacking this guy? The worst idea. The lieutenant has it right—finish the job, then we go home.”

  “Without Zabila?”

  “She’s dead. Has to be. You see all the cities they’ve burned down?”

  Naru gnawed on the last of her stale bread, eyes downcast. “We found her bag.”

  “You think she’d abandon it? She’s dead.”

  Riyun waited until the hacker finished her meager rations, then wandered over to where she sat. “Mind if I ask a couple questions?”

  The young woman glared, then looked away. “I’m all out of answers.”

  “This is about your game ideas.”

  “I was wrong. This isn’t a game. It’s just a really hopeless situation.”

  “I think you were right about it being a game. We just didn’t figure everything out. You said something about there being scenarios where the student kills the master, and there are scenarios where the master kills the student. This is just one where our side lost.”

  She brought her knees up to her chin and locked her arms around her shins. “We haven’t had a single victory. That’s not how you build games.”

  “We killed two dragons at the quarry.”

  “And I’ve still got bruised ribs to show for it.”

  “Surviving is a win. It’s that way in real life, too. People rarely manage a clean victory. There will always be losses of some sort.”

  She pressed her face against her knees, but not before tears trickled out. “It wasn’t fair. Tawod…”

  “He was just one man. Think of how many died in those cities we’ve seen. Yagath and Garelan and who knows how many others.”

  “Those weren’t our people.”

  “But they were still people. They had lives.”

  She sniffled. “I thought you didn’t care about this place?”

  “Not if it was just a game and these were just computers running pieces of software. But you saw Tarlayn. She wasn’t just software.”

  “No.”

  He squatted next to the hacker and lowered his voice. “In these games, is there ever a traitor who’s revealed at the end? Someone who helps people along until there’s no longer a need for them?”

  Naru’s eyes came up, wet in the dying light. “Alush?”

  “He keeps helping us, but I keep seeing someone with their own agenda.”

  The hacker thumbed away tears. “What if it’s only partly a game? I mean, yeah, traitors happen all the time. It’s a pretty common staple across all genres. But…”

  “But you think this is different?”

  “I think…” She glanced toward Quil. “We talked about it. Maybe now that we’re in the game, the design allows for changes. Quil called it ‘personalization.’”

  “Like how software changes the interface to match how you behave?”

  “Yeah. But in this case, the whole story changes to match you.”

  “Wouldn’t that kind of throw out the whole story structure you talked about?”

  She nodded. “But it makes sense. And maybe it explains the way Alush is acting.”

  Or maybe the drone-prophet had his own reason for acting strange. “Keep me up-to-date on any other theories you come up with.”

  “I will.” She brushed flecks of crust from her armor. “I miss the Lyceum.”

  “It was nice having a bed, wasn’t it?”

  A smile flashed across the hacker’s lips and was gone. “Almost like being home.”

  “I’ll get you there.”

  “I know you’re trying. I… Thanks.”

  Riyun felt Javika’s eyes burning into his back, but it was Symbra he caught staring curiously. Javika’s annoyance at what she considered coddling newer recruits was something that required constant attention. But Symbra’s positions…

  He wandered over to where she’d set out her bedroll, staying back several feet until she finally glanced up sheepishly, then he cleared his throat. “Have a second?”

  The young Onath searched around, then shrugged. “I guess Hirvok had to walk it off.”

  “We all do, sometimes. It probably gets stuck in his craw having to take orders from a hayseed like me.”

  Her lips formed an ‘o.’ “Actually, he really respects you. I-I mean, he doesn’t look down on—”

  “That’s all right. I know who I am.”

  “Well…” She dug around inside her backpack. “It’s not like that. I-I didn’t realize that you knew he was from one of the families.”

  “Doesn’t matter to me. Everyone has a chance to prove who they are when they meet me. Where you were born, how you look, what you’re worth…” He spread his hands wide.

  “I thought you had trouble with Silvers? Or is that only women?”

  “All I care about is the individual.”

  “Uh-huh. Everyone gets equal treatment, right?”

  “Nothing else would be fair.”

  “Well, that’s easy to say, but you aren’t acknowledging the different life experiences and the impact they have on the person when you take that sort of approach.”

  “We all face challenges when we’re growing up. Maybe we see our farm burned down or—”

  She shook her head, irritated. “You’re diminishing everyone when you do that.”

  “What? Giving everyone a fair shake? That’s diminishing?”

  “Never mind. You can’t understand what it’s like because of who you are.”

  Riyun chewed on the inside of his cheek. It was easy to dismiss his willingness to treat everyone fairly, so long as you defined every experience as somehow precious and unique. T
hat was only possible when he wasted the time drilling down into the granular elements of life. He knew better. Life was too short to treat it as anything other than a shared experience. No one was special; no one was better or worse; everyone had to account for themselves.

  He thought about heading over to Javika for the inevitable scolding, but that felt like fleeing the fight. “You still think Naru and Quil are way off base with their theories?”

  “I think it’s dangerous to only see things as they do. They don’t have the grasp of history.”

  “I’ve watched videos from historians discussing battles I actually fought in. According to history, what I experienced didn’t happen.”

  “Perceptions can be unreliable. You know that.”

  “Unless you’re a historian? Believe someone who wasn’t even there over my own eyes and ears?”

  That seemed to make the young woman uncomfortable. “The point is, they’re giving you information of questionable value.”

  “That’s why I’m asking you for your take.”

  “I told you my take: We have to accept that these are individuals, and as individuals, they have agency.”

  “Meaning they get to choose their own path.”

  “No destiny.”

  “You might be surprised to find out that Naru and Quil are sort of saying the same thing. I guess that might pop a hole in your ideas about everyone being so radically different.”

  She rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to her backpack. “I’m glad I could help.”

  “Me, too.”

  Riyun returned to his bedroll, painfully aware of Javika’s presence. “Go ahead and get it over with.”

  “You spend more time with raw recruits than with your most experienced people.”

  “It’s part of being a leader. You have to listen to everyone, even the knuckleheads.”

  She moved close enough that he could hear her foot tapping. “I am a knucklehead?”

  “Funny. I don’t remember saying that.”

  “Then who is the knucklehead?”

  “You know what makes this job so fun? It changes every day.”

  The Biwali warrior knelt beside his bedroll and yanked it from his hands, then spread it out for him. “What did the prophet say?”