“We’re on strike,” the Shaper finished. “Your miracles stopped being wonderful, awe-inspiring moments when you almost stabbed us all in the crotch by pulling a castle out of the floor. Tear down that damned pointy roof on your house and we’ll consider starting it back up. Assuming we don’t decide we’ve already recorded enough momentous events to retire five decades early.”
“What if I convince Avalon to replace the roof with flat parapets?” I asked with a straight face. “Would that motivate you guys to start doing your job again? Or would you still be too busy thinking about your crotches?”
The Testifier glared at me for several moments before he finally spoke.
“Damn. You won that one,” he admitted. “That’s probably worth a beer.”
“Thanks,” I grinned. “Assuming you don’t spit in it when you give it to me.”
“Don’t get unreasonable, now,” the dwarf joked back dryly.
Everyone had finished boarding by then. We did our best to stay out of the Atlantean crew’s way as they secured the final bit of rigging and activated the glyphs I saw along the masts and other portions of the ship. The Testifiers observed the glyphwork with special interest. Even Breena paid attention to it, although she normally just concerned herself with Ideal magic.
There is enough unknown script work here to advance my college’s library by two generations of normal discovery, Karim sent to me. On this ship, alone.
Are you able to make use of any of it? I asked, then felt him nod mentally in response.
Some small bits of it. You might be able to do the same, if you ever get time, he advised. But it will take a great deal of effort to begin unraveling it, even with help from the Atlanteans themselves.
That’s understandable, I admitted. I’d let you spend more time on this if we had any.
You do not, Karim said firmly. One of the Starsown’s Satellites told us. For all we know, the people on this next world have only minutes before help is too late. You show great wisdom in your haste, Lord Challenger.
Thank you, I replied, a bit taken back by the Testifier’s frank praise. Usually, all three of these guys ribbed me mercilessly, and it was a little weird for them to tell me outright that I was doing well, even if it was only through the mindlink.
We should be thanking you, Lord Malcolm, Karim replied. We make sport of you often, as it is how we talk amongst ourselves. It keeps us grounded and distracts us from some of our own wounds. But know that we value you highly, and despite our complaints, you have given us the highest honor any Testifier has received in several generations. Weylin and Eadric would tell you more if they could, but for now, please forgive them for their silence.
Okay, sure, I said, a little surprised by all the information I was getting. These three had been with me since before I had retaken Avalon, but there was a lot I still didn’t know about them. We had battled together and saved each other’s lives in combat. They had even been willing to share the secrets of their magics, and yet I knew next to nothing about their personal lives. Now, I realized that was intentional, so I didn’t press. There was too much about my own life that I hadn’t been ready to share with the world. Even, and maybe especially, with people I shared a magical mental connection with.
When we get back to Avalon, I want you three to go through our new libraries whenever you’re able, I directed. I’ll instruct the Atlanteans to assist you with understanding the material. Make sure you advance both your magic and your general knowledge. Then, when you get time, you can help teach both myself and the community what you have learned.
Gladly, the script mage acknowledged as he moved to stand next to the ship’s cabin, grabbing the handles along the wall and tying a rope to one before affixing it around his waist.
Atlantean shipbuilding had been a technological marvel of its time for many reasons, but what impressed me the most was because of a science often underlooked in design: psychology. Essentially, the Atlanteans knew that if they were going to build a ship that could sail between worlds, a large number of passengers just would not do the smart thing and go down into the ship’s hold, where it was safe. They would stay outside so that they could see everything that was happening, since no matter what the sailors told them, it was going to be an amazing experience they wouldn’t want to miss. So to that end, there were a number of locations on the deck where passengers could securily stand while remaining out of the way and still able to view this supposedly amazing event.
Naturally, we all qualified as such idiots. Though in my defense, I remained up top because I was expecting something to go horribly wrong, which I would likely need to blast apart with magic. Like Cavus, who would hopefully not be making a return appearance. For some reason, the Umbra always tried to get one of Stell’s Satellites alone. I wondered just what damage he would do to everything if he turned his focus on actually conquering the worlds I couldn’t reach yet.
Hopefully, we would never have the opportunity to find out. And just as hopefully, the different parts of Stell would keep realizing that she was a lot stronger than what he had made her believe when she was a little girl.
Crown her, the voice said in my mind, and write mighty love on her arms.
We had finished securing ourselves on the ship’s deck. Breena shrank down and flew into one of my pockets. Gabin had donned the rest of his armor, including a wave-crested helm, and gave the command to begin sailing.
The ship began to leave the dock, and I turned to wave at the group of people that had come to watch us depart. The Atlantean scholars. Talitha. Little Gabby. Sam and Kayla, my other two foster sisters. Alum and the rest of the Gaelguard, who I would have taken with me if there had been room. And finally Virtus and Guineve, both of whom I would have made room for, if they had been able to leave Avalon. Still, I was glad that every one of them had come out to see me leave.
We waved our goodbyes, and remained silent so that Gabin’s people could do the difficult task of sailing out of a badly wrecked harbor. The sailor-marines had tense faces as they pulled rigging, muttered activation spells into the glyphs, and took up position all along the sides of the deck, scanning the water as best as they could with eyes and magic. It was slow going. The Pathway was only a short distance away, but that still meant we would be sitting tight for at least an hour while the Scholar Marines made sure we did not sink our only remaining ship in our very own harbor.
I’m going to have to make repairs here a priority, I decided. Getting a fleet up and running would take a lot of pressure off of Stell as she scrambled between worlds to make supply deliveries. It would even let us open up multiple fronts on the other planets tied toAvalon, since the Sun-Jeweled Seas still had a number of usable Pathways. I imagined what could happen if I could deliver a battleship of Scholar Marines, Gaelguard, and supplies to one of Avalon’s sister worlds while it was still under attack from the Malus members. For all I knew, an act like that could save untold numbers of lives, and give us even more time to address the Tumults and Trials springing up through the remaining planets.
I let thoughts like that distract me while Gabin’s people carefully guided the ship through the last of the sunken wreckage. I heard several marines sigh in relief as the giant Pathway finally loomed in front of us. The sailors began securing themselves as well, and Gabin started calling out questions to ensure the crew was ready. When he got all the answers he wanted, the glyphs on the ship’s mast flared with bright blue light, and the vessel began surging forward.
I started to calculate our velocity, but the massive, shimmering doorway dominated my attention. I braced instinctively as the front of our ship disappeared through the curtain, but the transition was smooth, The caravel slowed slightly upon contact with the shimmering disk, but still moved fast enough to bring the entire ship into the Pathway in less than a minute.
Entering the Pathway to the Sun-Jeweled Seas felt much like entering the Pathway to the Woadlands. The only difference was that the air felt just a little heavier, and the surface we floa
ted over bobbed unsteadily like normal water. Aside from that, it was much, much bigger. The last Pathway had felt like a long hallway, but this one felt like a train tunnel, if the trains had been built by thirty-foot tall giants. Gray and white clouds swirled within the passageway, but the exit to the other side was still visible, a giant silvery curtain that stretched across our vision.
“Report,” Gabin shouted, and one by one, the sailors announced that they were still present and that they could see no danger from their current posts. My own team answered when he called out our names, and Gabin sighed in relief when he realized everyone was present and accounted for.
“Is the transition usually that smooth?” I asked, after unstrapping myself and walking over to him. Around me, the rest of the crew bustled about, and one of the more nimble Atlanteans quickly scurried over to the mast containing the crow’s nest.
“Almost always,” he answered with a shake of his head. “But you only need to be careless once for everyone to die at sea, Pathway or not. Even if you can breathe underwater like we can.”
“That’s a good attitude to have,” I answered, scanning about myself. I couldn’t see any danger either, but I wasn’t going to let that relax me. “Is that why you’re just now sending someone up the crow’s nest?”
“And why I’ll be pulling the person back down before we exit,” Gabin said with a nod. “Monster attacks within Pathways are extremely rare, but the crow’s nest is one of the most vulnerable locations while entering or exiting the Pathway, and the most useless, since you can’t see through the things until you’re already inside or out. It’s better to just leave it empty, and then bring the ship to a stop so that a sailor has time to climb back up.”
“I thought bringing a ship to a full stop was hard,” I asked, figuring now was a good opportunity to learn. The marines were still being attentive, but they did not seem nearly as nervous as they had right before we entered. They looked confident as the gray smoke shifted around us, like they had made such journeys a thousand times before. “Do you need to throw down an anchor or something?”
“No,” the marine smiled. “Not for one our ships.” He raised his hand and wrote magical script into the air, and the ship’s own glyphs glowed in response. I felt the ship slow down smoothly, coming to almost a complete stop. The sailor waiting by the mast waited for a nod from Gabin, and then he quickly climbed the rigging. “We can use an anchor if we have to, but it’s not necessary unless something goes wrong with the glyphs or Shaping magic. Even if one does fail, there are redundant glyphs to take its place. It’s still important to triple-check them all before you set out on any voyage though.”
“Huh,” I replied. “If you do all that, theoretically, you shouldn’t even need to bring an anchor with you.
“Theoretically,” the Atlantean agreed. “But again, we are at sea. We only need to be wrong once to lose everything. I’d take even fewer risks if it were possible, but we only have one working ship.”
“That is a perfect attitude to have,” I said approvingly. “I look forward to working with your people more, Gabin. In fact,” I closed my eyes and reached out for a moment. I had killed enough rival Earthborn in Stellar War for my mindlink to expand again, and by now, I could tell when it was possible to forge a new link with someone. “Battle with me, brother.”
He blinked at me, but a moment later, I could tell that he had accepted the link. There was a sort of washing sensation as we traded information about our identities. I sensed from him a sense of professionalism, a desire to do his job well, to get recognition for himself and his family.
And, finally, a deep ache to recover something that had been lost long before he was ever born.
I sent approval and acceptance at him over the mindlink, and I felt the same from him. I realized that, on the subconscious level, a mindlink formed by exchanging just enough information between two people to figure out whether or not they could trust each other, usually surface thoughts and general goals, as well as any hidden desire to cause the other person harm. So far, I had yet to feel any dangers, but then again, I had been offering the link only to individuals who had either saved or been saved by me. I had chosen to do so with Gabin, because it seemed like instantaneous communication with the guy in charge of sailing our ship would be a necessary advantage, depending on what we encountered in the Sun-Jeweled Seas.
The link was established, and I felt Gabin react in wonder to it, and quickly determine which thoughts he wished to share with me and which thoughts he wished to keep private.
This is a really useful advantage, he told me, still marveling at the new way to communicate. I wish I could have this for my entire crew.
I wish you could, too, I replied. But I can only form it with a limited number of people, and it only works on people close to my own power. I’m working on getting some other forms of communication, though. Ideally, I’d like each of our warriors and sailors to form a bond with a Spritefolk, so that they could take advantage of their whisper magic and other tricks. But we’ll have to figure out which Sprites would be the best choice for sea missions.
That sounds like an incredible idea, the Atlantean captain replied. We would have done the same, but Spritefolk were extremely rare back in our time.
Maybe we can talk later about the idea, I told him. But I’ll let you get back to directing the ship. Use this link if you need to tell me or my retinue anything quickly, or privately.
I let him get back to work. He needed time to get used to having the new mental connection anyway, so I wanted to distract him from both that and his job as little as possible.
We continued to pass through the formless gray sea in silence. This time, nothing showed up to attack us. No webbing or other trap suddenly caught our ship or crew. Cavus didn’t appear in another one of his disgusting forms. Probably because his other forms were trying to find ways to reach Stell’s Satellites, and they were all located on one of Avalon’s sister worlds.
Hopefully, they would continue to fail at that.
The Pathway exit soon loomed in front of us. Gabin brought the ship to a complete stop to allow the sailor in the crow’s nest to climb down. Then, he called out for the crew to take up battle stations.
Exiting a Pathway is far more dangerous than entering one, he informed us all through the mindlink. The most common danger inside a Pathway is a bit of turbulent waters right at the entrance. But the exit leads to another world, and there could be anything, from storms to monsters to pirates, waiting for us when we arrive.
Makes sense, I told him. Anything we need to know in particular for this?
Just strap yourselves down like you did before, and be ready for any manner of danger to greet us on the other side, he replied calmly. Also, thank you. For giving us an opportunity to visit a world our people once called home.
With that, the ship flared with magic, and we passed through the shimmering curtain leading to another world.
Chapter 16: Dark Squall
The caravel rocked as it crossed into another world. Shapes and colors filled our vision once more. I blinked and smiled at the same time, because I had forgotten just how beautiful this world was.
Water splashed all around us, a rich blue color I had never seen, even on the beaches of my home state. The waves glinted where the light hit them, making the glorious blue sparkle like the facets of a hundred thousand gems. I had seen it all before when I first became a Challenger, and I still couldn’t help loving the sight of this world.
But then I looked further out, and my smile faded.
Off in the distance, on the port, or left, side of our ship was a mass of still, sickly-green water. It did not sparkle in the sunlight, despite there being no clouds overhead. Except for the edges of it, it did not move either. It just sat there, looking like the stagnant water in a ditch that bred mosquitos.
Gabin had been calling out roll and sightings. I had to take a moment to answer.
“Present,” I called out numbly. “A
nd I see the same rotten water everyone else probably does. Port side.”
Was I already too late? Was I about to see the dead bodies of people I had failed to save? The drowned corpses of little children?
I shook those mad thoughts away the next moment and turned my attention back to the crew and my retinue. Gabin had already brought the ship to a stop, letting one of his sailor-marines race up to the crow’s nest.
Nothing of note, except for the dead water to the east, the Atlantean captain reported, able to tell that I had been distracted earlier. Which was bad, I realized. I needed to keep my head in the game. We’ll know more when Alejan gets a better view from up top.
Thank you, I informed him. And let me know if I get distracted again.
I will, the Scholar-marine replied gently. You are in charge of countless lives and your burden is heavy. But we are here to help you save whoever we can.
I nodded in gratitude. Then I heard the lookout call out a new sighting.
“Land, ho! Port-side! Small island!”
We need to figure out where we are, I sent to Gabin and my retinue. Does anyone know where on this world the Pathway opened up to?
Before Avalon’s fall, it opened up to one of the only still-populated places on the Seas, Gabin answered us. The Flood had ruined most of the world. In time, a few of our people returned here, alongside immigrants from other worlds. They tried to start this world anew, and they named the chain of islands to reflect that effort.
They did? Breena perked up. Did they call them the Novas Islands?
She had to ask. The Atlanteans predated even Stell and her Satellites.
The Novasolly, actually, Gabin answered. But your name sounds like a version of it.
Okay, Breena said confidently. I think I know where we are. Especially if that island is long and thin, with a hook at the end of it.
Gabin shouted something too quick for me to hear to the lookout, who shouted back just as quickly.
It is, he confirmed. Although I don’t remember any of the islands around here having a hook on them.
Lighting Distant Shores Page 31
