“Cancel that emergency call,” she sent again. “There’s a serious threat in the hangar. Stand by while I deal with it.”
There was no reply. The sending was either broken or jammed.
If help was coming, it was rushing into a trap. If not, Cook would die.
It’s up to me, Astlin realized. No more lives would be lost today—except for Shaiel’s Blade.
“And if it’s Hazeroth,” she thought aloud, “I’ll kill him again.”
“Run,” urged Cook. “He’s dangerous.”
Astlin gave a joyless laugh. “Me too—even more than before. And I’m always learning.”
The corner or Cook’s pale mouth turned upward, though his eyes didn’t open. “Gonna go now. Don’t you follow me yet.”
Astlin’s heart raced. Her stomach tied itself in knots as she faced the brutal fact of Cook’s death.
“Break free of the Nexus, Cook!” she pleaded. “Hold on to yourself. I know you can do it!”
Cook’s uneven brown eyes did open then. He looked at Astlin, and his smile grew.
“Don’t think so,” he rasped. “Always said trying to stay us causes pain. Wouldn’t wanna be a hypocrite.”
Cook’s eyes fixed themselves on Astlin. His chest fell with his last words and didn’t rise again. In the ether, silver light flashed from his body like a lightning bolt striking the heart of the Nexus. The looming black pyramid swallowed the light, leaving the small corner of creation that had belonged to Cook in darkness.
His eyes, Astlin thought as tears filled hers. His eyes are still bright…
She spared a moment for her grief. Then she stood and set her sights on revenge.
Where are you? Astlin wondered, redoubling her visual and mental search of the hangar.
Hers was the only conscious mind. There were no nexic ripples in the ether, not even from the Kerioth.
Which should’ve been impossible. Even though it was idling on low power, the nexus-runner should have stirred the rosy mist and lit it up like a beacon.
Astlin had piloted the Kerioth before, but the Night Gen ship largely remained a mystery. All nexus-runners might have fields that blocked nexism like the Serapis blocked Workings. Or Mirai Smith could have built one.
Smith. Besides having a gift for invention, he was the souldancer of Kairos. Shaiel had been obsessed with capturing him, just as he’d hunted Astlin when she’d been the souldancer of fire.
Shaiel used his Blades to get what he wanted. He still wanted the souldancers, and one was hiding on the Kerioth behind an anti-nexic field.
Astlin hurried to the ship’s front port side. The boarding ramp was retracted; the main hatch locked. There were no signs of forced entry. She circled the hull and found every other entrance in the same condition.
The only openings were the landing gear skid wells. Checking the already tight spaces, Astlin saw that they were entirely sealed off from the ship’s interior, except for a small defrosting vent that not even a young child could fit inside.
Driven by an equal need for answers and vengeance, Astlin thought of the crew quarters where she and Xander had been confined. She willed herself from the hard hangar deck to the smooth, gel-like floor of the Kerioth’s cabin.
The room was pitch black. She noticed the nexus-runner’s usual synthetic smell and caught traces of a metallic yet floral scent.
Suppressing a shiver, Astlin heard a low hum.
I was right. The ship is ready to launch. Smith just needs the last corvette out of his way.
Astlin tried sensing nexism and was relieved to feel energy coursing through the ship. There was another strong power source moving on the deck below and…something else that slipped through her weary grasp like oil. She projected herself into the stronger power’s path.
The corridor was long and narrow, lit only by glowing green cables and indicators scattered upon the walls. The air was stuffy; the steady hum slightly louder.
Astlin soon oriented herself. The engine room lay up ahead at the hall’s aft end. Weapon and navigation systems were housed behind her in the ship’s bow.
A soft rustling sound coming from the engine room startled Astlin to full alertness. She strained her eyes, but the gloom hid the source of the noise.
I don’t miss being a souldancer, but thermal vision would come in handy right now!
There was no other sound, but Astlin noticed rhythmic tremors moving through the deck in time with the engine’s pulse. Her anxiety grew as the invisible wave rushed toward her.
Astlin revealed her crown, driving back the darkness. In the azure light she saw, not someone moving across the deck, but a section of the deck moving.
There was a rasping wail. A mound of small dark gears rose out of the floor, and a sallow death’s head emerged.
“Quench that hideous light!”
Astlin obliged with a sharp exhale. “Smith. What are you doing down here?”
“Evading Shaiel’s grasp! Would have wrecked the engine if not for me.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Shaiel tried to sabotage the engine?”
“No, his Blade!” Smith’s mass of gears coiled past Astlin, positioning his face behind her. “Listen—he’s coming!”
Alarmed, Astlin peered down the dim hallway and once again saw nothing. If there were any other souls besides her and Smith, the nexic waves coming off him and the ship concealed them.
“I don’t see any—”
Smith’s shriek cut her off. Astlin turned and saw nothing at first. Then she glimpsed fleeting movement high on the left wall.
Something like see-through putty squeezed itself out of a small ventilation duct. At first she thought it was a man—his horribly contorted flesh mimicking the wall-mounted pipes behind him. But it had to be a trick of the dark.
Tentacles made of countless tiny gears lashed out from Smith’s shapeless mass. The transparent thing from the vent twisted to avoid the gear whips and dropped to the deck. With a series of awful popping sounds it stood, almost invisible in the half-light, but definitely shaped like a man.
Astlin stifled her shock and reached out for the barely visible creature’s mind. Her strength hadn’t returned yet, and the slick surface of his thoughts repelled her.
At least I know he’s the slippery one from before.
“Do something!” Smith cried as he uselessly flailed at his evasive foe.
Astlin let her sapphire light fill the hall. Smith screeched and turned his corpselike face away.
As if stepping through a warped mirror, Smith’s enemy made himself seen. He was stripped bare; his muscular yet nimble frame marred by a long diagonal wound on his side. A mop of long black hair hid most of his ugly face.
Unfazed by Astlin’s crown, he ripped a sturdy pipe from the wall and pointed its broken end at Smith. White steam poured out. Astlin backed away from what she thought would be scalding heat, but as the torrent washed over Smith, she felt unearthly cold.
The strange man broke off a section of pipe and crimped the end, stopping the flow of liquid air. Though he lacked any protection from the cold, only his hands were harmed; though to Astlin the blackening looked more like severe burns than frostbite.
She was also unhurt, but the same couldn’t be said for Smith.
The souldancer of Kairos filled most of the space between his attacker and Astlin. Smith’s body looked like a dead tree made of dark oiled metal. Frost coated his many twisted limbs and his grimacing skull-like face.
“Stop!” Astlin warned the pipe-wielding man. “If you kill Smith, we’ll be sucked through his gate.”
Ignoring her, he swung the pipe and knocked a chunk out of Smith’s midsection. Frozen gears scattered with the sound of a car roof in a hailstorm.
Astlin got ready to project herself away, but Smith’s Worked body held. His enemy dropped the pipe, which clattered down among the souldancer’s gears. His hands free, he reached into the hole he’d made in Smith’s trunk and pulled out something pale that shone with hun
gry crimson light.
Astlin recognized the object and recoiled. The expressionless mask had last covered her sister’s stolen face. The gem on its brow wasn’t a ruby, but a cursed relic that had eaten many souls—including hers.
Revulsion became defiance. “I can’t let you have that,” Astlin said.
The man spoke in a deep soft voice without taking his eyes from the mask in his hands.
“Shaiel’s property isn’t yours to withhold.”
The man held the cursed mask out before him. The ruby blazed in mockery of Astlin’s light, and doused it.
Through her horror, Astlin saw Smith’s body shudder. With a ringing crack, the frozen layer sloughed off, revealing live writhing gears beneath. A thin tendril whipped out from the thawed mass and latched onto the gem in the mask’s forehead.
Shaiel’s agent drew back, his knuckles white as he held on to the mask. Discordant chimes rang out as the gem broke free. Smith took the ruby into himself, hiding the terrible light, and swarmed down the corridor past his foe like a nest of metal bees.
Still holding the mask, the man let his hand fall to his side. He turned to follow Smith.
“Shaiel’s Blade?” Astlin called out to him, making the title a challenge.
“Yes.” the Blade of Shaiel turned back to face her. “You are the souldancer of fire?”
Astlin fought back unwelcome memories. “I was.”
“You killed Hazeroth?”
“Damn right I did,” Astlin said.
“You’ve won great honor,” said Shaiel’s Blade. “More than the one who fell before you.”
The jab at Cook’s memory ignited Astlin’s rage, and her grief fed the blaze.
“That man—the man you killed—was the noblest, gentlest soul in this broken world.” Astlin clenched her fists. “He saw what I was; what I’d done. And he forgave me.”
“He loved you.” Shaiel’s Blade, ugly inside and out, never changed his blank expression. “You could see it in his eyes, before the Nexus took him.”
Unlike Cook, Astlin had escaped the Nexus. She’d found the way to the world beyond, the true world where Zadok had lived before making his cheap imitation. There, all her crimes were washed away and she was crowned with unearned glory.
Yet she’d chosen to return; to retrace Zadok’s path in the hope of saving those he held in silver chains. She came with authority from beyond; less than the gods of this world, but enough that the prisoners she came to free might be tempted to worship her if she wasn’t careful.
Hiding her crown took effort, like keeping a spiritual muscle flexed.
After the Blade spoke, Astlin let go. A constellation of three blue stars hovered before her brow. Their brilliance grew as her scream rose in volume. Sapphire light melted every shadow before her.
Shaiel’s Blade squinted like a man staring at the sun. He didn’t retreat or look away as she rushed him.
Astlin was no longer made of elemental fire, but her speed rivaled its swiftness.
She collided with Shaiel’s Blade, knocking him off his feet. He grunted from the impact, but the muscles under his bare skin squirmed, bending him in impossible ways.
Astlin suddenly found herself locked in a python-like hold. Though her opponent lacked her raw strength, his unnatural contortions evaded her fists and elbows. She tried to pry herself free, but his flesh twisted out of her hands.
“You are fierce,” Shaiel’s Blade spoke into her ear, “but unskilled. Hazeroth must have been weaker than his legend claims.”
The already dark hallway grew dimmer as the Blade’s hold cut off blood flow to Astlin’s head. In desperation, she racked her clouding mind for a way out—and found only one.
I wanted to know if this would work…
Astlin pictured the hangar. She was there as herself, but for one mind-bending moment she was also Shaiel’s Blade in the nexus-runner’s darkened corridor. Finally she stood on the Serapis’ singed deck; then folded to her knees, her head swimming.
Need to focus.
Astlin’s will restored her mind and body to balance, and she rose again to her feet.
A deep groan made Astlin turn to see Shaiel’s Blade on his hands and knees, shaking as he slowly stood. Cook’s body lay between them.
With Cook’s killer now in arm’s reach, Astlin saw the white sword resting on the deck nearby. With a thought its light hilt was in her hand. The curved, mirrored blade sang as it cut through the air.
Having just regained his feet, Shaiel’s Blade gaped in shock. His torso bent absurdly far backwards, and Astlin’s slash severed only a few strands of his greasy hair.
But her foe’s other defenses slipped. Mustering all of her will, Astlin battered down the gates of his soul.
She saw his mind laid as bare as his skin. Bred and trained to remove all sense of self, Izlaril Nizari was the last Son of Haath—a living weapon wielded by…
Something else. Something much, much worse.
Behind Izlaril’s reeling form, Astlin saw the monstrous shadow of a wolf outlined in sickly golden light.
The shadow wolf’s growling formed words in her mind. Shaiel’s Left Hand wields the Blade, my pretty one. I won’t suffer you to wrest it from me!
Astlin’s light blazed again without her command. Sapphire strove against gold, and finally the wolf image vanished like smoke in the wind. But the effort cost Astlin a moment’s concentration.
Izlaril leapt into the opening, striking Astlin’s wrist and sending the white sword flying from her hand. It chimed like a bell as it struck the deck and slid under the Kerioth’s landing gear.
Izlaril’s blow had been more surprising than painful, but the distraction left Astlin open to another attack. His leg pistoned out, driving the ball of his foot into her stomach. The stars crowning her head went out and new ones flashed behind her eyes.
“That hurt,” she admitted, “but if that’s your best shot, you’re in trouble.”
By all appearances, Astlin’s body in this world was identical to those of Zadok’s shards. It was even made of prana-based matter. But unknown to Izlaril, it was made much better.
A look of awe came over Izlaril’s marred face. “Will you bring reunion with the Nexus?”
“Sure, I’ll kill you,” Astlin said. “But you don’t have to rejoin the Nexus. You can be free.”
“Selfhood is torment.”
Astlin heaved a frustrated sigh. “Why does everyone say that?”
Izlaril punched her in the face. The impact left her ears ringing.
One thought penetrated Astlin’s pain and fatigue. He can hit harder!
A burst of light flooded the hangar before a violent tremor shook the deck.
It was Izlaril’s turn to be caught off guard. Astlin willed herself into the air above him. The glare and noise of the blast confused him until the instant before her fall-assisted kick hammered into his head. Astlin teetered when she landed but regained her balance. Izlaril fell flat on his back and lay still; not even breathing.
Astlin turned. Through the hangar door she saw a fireball that had been the last corvette. Amber tracers continued pelting the wreckage for a moment after the explosion subsided.
Those shots came from the Serapis. That means the field’s down.
As soon as the thought came to Astlin, the upside down “V” of the Theophilus surged into the hangar. The drive and habitat pods sent up sparks and left dark streaks on the deck as the ether-runner skidded to a stop thirty feet away. She saw Xander seated on the Wheel and gave him a weary smile.
Arms like iron made flesh locked themselves around Astlin’s throat. She struggled, but her enemy’s muscles writhed like snakes, tightening their hold. She heard and felt something pop in her neck.
“There is a way to kill you,” Izlaril breathed into her ear. “We shall find it together.”
Xander disappeared from the Cockpit window. In the same instant he stood beside the grappled pair. Silver stars blazed upon his clean-shaven head.
/> “You have laid hands on my beloved,” Xander said like a judge passing sentence. A black spear tipped with a diamond blade appeared in his hand. “I’ll strike the head from your shoulders.” He raised the weapon for a fatal thrust.
“Can you strike before I snap her neck?” asked Shaiel’s Blade, sounding honestly interested in the answer.
“I can,” said a familiar voice.
Teg stood beside the Theophilus, his right foot still on the threshold of the drive pod hatch. He must have been aiming his gun at Izlaril, but to Astlin it looked like the barrel was pointing at her.
Izlaril laughed.
“Do not—” was all Xander had time to say before the muzzle of Teg’s gun flashed. There was a loud crack. A far harder and more painful blow than anything Izlaril could deliver slammed into Astlin’s chest, and she fell back into nothingness.
11
“Serieigna!” Teg heard Xander cry. The Nesshin fell to his knees beside Astlin, who lay on top of two extremely ugly men—one of whom had been about to break her neck until Teg shot her.
“Sorry!” Teg called out as he dashed to Xander’s side. “Guess I’m rustier than I thought.”
Xander glared at him, shaking with rage. “You are sorry!? She saved your life, and you shot her!”
“Honestly,” said Teg, “this isn’t the first time that’s happened.”
Teg raised his gun again as Xander sprang to his feet, but Astlin’s irate husband wasn’t interested in venting his anger on Teg. Instead Xander stretched out his free hand toward the naked man who’d been lying under his wife and who had now risen to a crouch.
Thunder roared, ringing Teg’s bell worse than the gunshot. The naked man flew across the hangar and smashed into a cargo container, leaving a dent in the orange-painted steel.
“Nice,” said Teg. But Xander was already standing over his wife’s attacker, who lay on the deck clutching something white in his hand.
Teg had caught a glimpse of the strange object before he’d shot at its bearer. The man had held it while he’d strangled Astlin, and more impressively, had managed to hold on to it when Xander blasted him into a metal box.
The Secret Kings Page 10
