by Chris Fox
“My name was Rhea, last Outrider of the last dragonflight,” she whispered. Her voice quavered, and Aran thought he spied a tear on her cheek. “I kept the faith. I waited. And then I gave in to despair. I don’t know how long ago that was. But here you are.”
“You were expecting me?” Aran asked. It made a kind of sense. Gods used auguries the same way mortals used missives. Maybe Virkonna had told these people he’d be coming.
“Your blade is so young. You are so young. Not at all like the statues.” She leaned a bit closer, and the stench grew overpowering. He forced himself to ignore it.
“Statues?” Aran barked a laugh. “Are you serious? I’m a pariah on pretty much every world I’ve been on. Especially this one, if this is Virkonna.”
The figure cocked her head, and leaned a little bit closer. He could see her face now. The cheeks were coated in the same oil as the walls, but under that lay a beautiful woman, one with glittering green eyes.
“What year do you think it is?” the woman asked.
Aran had to think about that. The marines from Ternus used what they called a sector standard calendar. Most people adhered to that, though apparently Shayans had their own calendar…that they didn’t want to share. “It’s 985 sector standard.”
She began to laugh—a long, keening, freeing laugh. It echoed off the walls, up the corridors. Aran tensed again, not liking the idea that she was so openly broadcasting their position. He waited patiently, and the laughter subsided.
“The year is 7,985 galactic standard.” She leaned back into the shadows, and the stench retreated. “Come. We must get you there, and we must do it quickly. We may already be too late.”
40
Crucible
The temperature rose several degrees the instant Nara stepped inside the carved tunnel. That suggested an internal source of heat, magical or otherwise. And that meant this place might still be active.
Nara crept along the corridor and beckoned for Wes to follow. She didn’t really need to. He’d already stumbled inside and was staring up at the sigils like an eight-year-old on winter festival morning.
“This place is older than the surrounding strata, I’d venture. Far older.” He shuffled a few more steps in, peering at the walls with a gigantic grin. “I think it’s miraculous that so many of the sigils are still functional.”
“Agreed.” Nara paused as well. “I have to admit this place is fascinating, but I’m also more than a little worried about one of those snakes wandering after us. There are tracks leading in this direction, remember?”
“That’s true.” Wes blinked owlishly. “All right then, I’ll contain my curiosity for now. At least until we find whatever it is you’re looking for down here. Which you still haven’t told me, by the way. I mean, I’m going to see whatever it is soon enough. What’s the risk?”
“We have no idea if we’re being scryed upon at any given moment.” Nara started slowly back up the corridor. She pulled her staff from her void pocket and held it defensively before her. “The safest way to ensure an enemy doesn’t learn a secret is not to talk about it. Like you said, you’ll see for yourself soon enough.” She glanced over her shoulder at him. “I do appreciate all the help, Wes. I mean that.”
“Honestly?” Wes gave her a conspiratorial smile. “I’m just doing it to impress a girl. Not you, mind. I mean you are gorgeous and all, but…I am carrying a secret flame for another.”
Nara was glad the helmet hid her smile at that. Secret flame indeed. “I’d never have guessed.”
The corridor ended abruptly at a solid, golden door. A sea of green sigils danced across the surface in a curtain of magical energy.
“What do you think it is?” Wes walked toward the door and extended a hand toward the sigils.
“Don’t touch it!” Nara darted forward and seized him by the shoulder.
“Oh, dear.” Wes yanked his hand back like he’d been burned. “I nearly wet my trousers. I hope there’s a good reason. Why shouldn’t I touch it?”
“Do you see any snakes?” Nara asked. She pointed at the floor.
A pile of debris had accumulated at the base of the door, and closer inspection revealed little bits of bone, and a few pieces of dry skin.
“It’s a ward of some kind, and I’m guessing it uses corrosive magic.” Nara kept a careful distance back as she inspected it. “There has to be some sort of magical release, or way to get past it. I’m just hoping we don’t need Ikadra.”
“Need who now?” Wes asked. He poked at a bit of snake skeleton with his boot.
“Ignore me,” Nara muttered. She shouldn’t have mentioned Ikadra. “I’ll see if I can disarm it.”
She considered what she knew of wards. A powerful enough mage could brute force them with a nullification spell, but if their spell wasn’t correctly tuned, it could trigger a magical explosion. Nara might be willing to try a spell like that, but not against a god-forged artifact. So she had to find another way.
Neith had gifted her with a dramatically increased intellect, and had insinuated she had some special role to play. Given that the ship had been left for the major, it stood to reason that the gods intended them to find it. Theoretically, she had everything she needed to find her way past this door.
But that didn’t make solving this any easier.
“Hey door,” Wes said suddenly. “Can you let us inside?”
She removed her helmet, just so she could raise an eyebrow. Wes shrugged. “What? It was worth a shot.”
The hum coming from the door changed briefly in pitch. Only for a moment, and not enough that someone unskilled in magical resonance would even have detected it.
Nara turned to the door. Maybe Wes was onto something. What if the password was verbal? What would this thing want or expect to hear? If she could tell it Neith had sent her, then it might let her inside. “I am a vessel of the keeper of secrets. I have come to retrieve that which was left, to be used against Krox’s return.”
The door didn’t seem terribly impressed.
It hadn’t reacted to her, not in the same way it had reacted to Wes. Why the difference? The resonance remained steady. She considered her words. What was she doing differently? She’d told the door who she was. Wes had asked the door a question.
Did it respond to questions?
“How do we open you?” she asked.
Wes raised an eyebrow, but Nara ignored him. As she’d hoped, there was a faint change in the magical resonance, and it happened when she’d asked the question. Could the spell think? She’d heard of sentient spells, and after meeting Ikadra the concept of magical life wasn’t all that odd.
“You look like you’re puzzling something out,” Wes ventured. He leaned closer to the door, studying it through his spectacles. “Can you disarm it somehow?”
“I doubt it.” Nara placed her hand near the field, and felt the pulsing, acidic energy. “It’s a nasty mix of void and earth.”
“Cosmic acid. Eww.” Wes folded his arms. “Well I know you’re not likely to want to turn back, but I’m all out of ideas.”
Nara took a deep breath, and blocked out Wes, and every other conceivable distraction. She chewed on the problem, considering the mind of the god who’d created this door. If you knew that you’re going to be sending a mortal to open it, and that mortal will have to figure out how to do so, then it stood to reason that Neith had given her everything she needed to solve the problem. There’s no way she’d have not done so, because she’d have seen the possibility of Nara failing. So, she had what she needed.
She needed to ask the door a question, she just needed to figure out the right one. Odds were good she was overcomplicating this.
“Can you understand me?” she asked.
The resonance changed sharply, then shifted back.
“Well, you know I’m the vessel sent here to retrieve the First Spellship.” Nara tapped her lip as she thought. “Will you lower the field for us?”
The ward shimmered out of exist
ence, and the door rose slowly into the ceiling.
“Wait, was that a spell?” Wes demanded. “How did you get the door to open? I mean, how did you know what to say? I know a lot about the age of dragons, and none of what you just said comes from anything I’ve read. Keeper of secrets?”
“I know you’ve got a lot of questions,” Nara allowed. “Do me one favor. Save them up until we get inside. Once we find what I’m looking for, I will answer every one of your questions. I promise.”
Wes seemed to consider that for a long moment. “I can manage that.”
Nara stepped through the doorway into what appeared to be a workshop. The walls were a soft blue-silver color, and exuded a faint, but incredibly powerful magical aura. The room smelled musty, as if it hadn’t been opened in a very long time. Which it likely hadn’t been.
Wes crinkled his nose. “Ugg, this place smells like a tomb.”
A variety of tools, most unfamiliar, lined one wall. Three tables sat in a perfect triangle, and tools were still scattered across one of the tables. There was no sign of whatever they’d been working on, but the tables glowed faintly with residual magical energy.
“Something powerful was created here,” Nara murmured in awe. She walked slowly through the workshop. “Many somethings, I think. The signature of this room is…layered. Like this place was used for a long time.”
“By who, is the question?” Wes asked. He’d picked up something that resembled a screwdriver, but with six tips. “And what did they create?” She glanced at him and he smiled sheepishly. “I know, I know…save them up. Just thinking aloud.”
Nara realized there was a doorway on the far side of the workshop. It drew her like a magnet, and she walked quickly to it. On the other side lay a catwalk, overlooking a long, empty hangar. It had room for an enormous ship, but if the Spellship had ever been here there was no sign of it now.
She closed her eyes and forced a series of deep, calming breaths. True mages did not cry.
There was a solution here. Some gods might be cruel, but she doubted any were stupid. They’d sent her here, and they intended her to find this ship.
“What do you think they stored here?” Wes asked. He pushed past her, through the doorway and out to the railing along the catwalk. “This hangar is easily two kilometers across. And are we ‘here’ yet? Because I’ve got questions.”
“We’re here,” Nara finally managed. There had been a moment where she wasn’t sure she could keep the tears at bay, but that moment had passed. “I’ll answer your questions as we explore. Somewhere in here lies the key to finding the ship that fits in that hangar.”
41
Shinura
After a little exploration, Nara found what she guessed must be the control room. It sat a level above where they’d entered, and afforded a much better look at the facility. The view from the observation deck outside the control room was breathtaking.
“Nara, what is this place?” Wes asked from behind her.
She turned and found his face filled with the same wonder that had awakened when they’d come into the tunnel. Wes loved this stuff, a love she shared. She wondered what it must be like to be able to pursue knowledge for knowledge’s sake, unentangled by vast galactic auguries that determined the fate of everything.
“I don’t know, but I suspect the answer is in this room.” She turned from the balcony and headed back inside.
“You are correct,” a frigid voice said behind her. Nara whirled, shocked to see the oddest person in the corner. Had he been there the whole time?
He looked human enough, but a pair of draconic wings jutted from his back. She also noted the tail flicking back and forth behind him in what she guessed might be agitation. He had a shock of bright white hair and piercing blue eyes with storms playing across them.
“Who are you?” Nara kept her tone neutral—if anything, friendly. She had no idea who, or what, this thing was.
“I am the Shade of Inura,” he explained. Nara took a moment to study his armor. It was highly stylized, with a clear dragon motif. Pretty on the nose.
“Who is Inura, and when you say shade do you mean you’re a ghost?” Wes got out all in a rush. If he was alarmed by the dragon-guy’s sudden appearance, he didn’t show it.
“By shade, I mean simulacrum. A copy, if that word is too big.” The man’s dark eyebrows knitted together and he glared at Wes. “I am no ghost.”
“Inura? As in the Inuran Consortium?” Nara asked.
“Inura as in the Wyrm Father of Life.” The shade folded his arms, and the tail continued to flick.
Now that knocked Nara back a step.
Wes approached the strange new arrival, which highlighted how tall the shade was. Aran would only come to this guy’s shoulder.
“Wow,” she said dryly, “you’ve really got this answer the question in as few words as possible thing down. What is your role here? And is there any specific information you think imparting to us would be beneficial, from our perspective?”
The man smiled, exposing a sea of very draconic fangs. “Finally, some intelligent questions. I was created to serve as an assistant to Inura and Virkonna. I oversaw construction here, for seventy-eight millennia.” He puffed up a bit. “Neith has sent you, hasn’t she?”
Nara opened her mouth to confirm, but no sound came out. Of course.
The man laughed. “I can see she has. I recognize the mark of my sister. Well, Inura’s sister. I am ‘merely a shade.’ You must be her vessel, which means you are here for the Spellship.”
“That’s right,” Nara said. Speaking was easy, now that she was no longer trying to say that specific word she promised not to think about for the next few minutes. “Can you tell us where it is?”
“I can’t. I can only guide you to the temporal matrix.” He lent a little extra significance to the word temporal.
Nara’s eyes widened, and a laugh bubbled up. “Can you tell me when it is?”
“Wow, three intelligent questions in one day. That’s a record. Please, follow me.” He turned and walked back inside, toward the workshop they’d originally arrived at.
“What would you like us to call you?” Wes asked. “Shade? Inura? Shinura?”
“That’s…actually quite clever.” Shinura seemed impressed with Wes.
He led them them to a section of golden wall and passed his hand in front of it. The wall slid up into the ceiling, exposing a small, empty room.
“It’s a transport.” Shinura stepped inside. “Come on.” He fluffed his wings as he stepped inside.
Wes looked to her, so Nara stepped inside. She still hadn’t taken off her helmet, and wasn’t planning on it any time soon. She didn’t know what Shinura was, but she wanted to be able to grab Wes and flee if needed.
The door slid down and the room went completely dark. The light returned and the door slid up. Instead of looking out on the workshop they now overlooked a massive magical circle. Three rings rotated above it, exactly like a ship’s command matrix. The only thing missing was the stabilizing ring.
“This is the…temporal matrix?” she asked as she cautiously approached.
“Yes.” Shinura moved to stand near it. He scratched behind his ear and withdrew a wriggling insect. He popped it into his mouth and she shuddered involuntarily.
“All right, Wes.” Nara turned in his direction. “This is where you earn your pay.”
“I’m not getting paid.”
“Right. This is where you earn some more goodwill,” Nara corrected. “We’ve got to figure out the correct questions to ask our new friend here. We need to figure out how to operate the matrix, and we need to do it well enough that we don’t accidentally teleport ourselves into a star.”
“Oh, there are much worse outcomes than that, I assure you.” Shinura ruffled his own hair. Nara had originally assumed it to be a dark brown, but now she thought it might be auburn in the right light. “You don’t want to make a mistake with this thing. You could wipe out multiple univer
ses, or alter the fate of countless others.”
Nara tapped her chin as she considered the best way to proceed. She needed more information. “If you had to use this matrix, what do you wish you knew before you made the attempt?”
“I wish I could bestow some sort of title on you,” Shinura said with a toothy grin. “You are just full of excellent questions. What do I wish I knew? I’d want to fully understand that this matrix rests at a temporal flux point. Let’s see if I can dumb this down for you.”
“I don’t need it dumbed down.” Nara folded her arms and glared at him. He couldn’t see her glare in the mask of course, but she glared anyway.
“I can perceive spectrums you cannot begin to imagine.” Shinura rose to his full height and his wings flared out above him. “You are limited to three dimensions. Five senses. You cannot understand the myriad realities, or how they are interconnected. How changing one seemingly irrelevant detail in your limited reality can cause vast swathes of possibility to unravel. You are toddlers trampling a divine garden.”
“I didn’t ask you how limited we are. I asked you what you wish you knew.” Nara still wasn’t sure if she liked this guy or not.
“I wish I knew that a temporal flux point connected trillions of realities, and the slightest misstep could eradicate many of them.” Shinura shook his head. “Listen, mortal, you’ve clearly been touched by a god. You’ve got some magic, sure. But be damned sure you understand what you’re getting yourself into if you step inside that thing.”
“I get it. It’s scary. Bad stuff. Universes destroyed,” Nara said coldly. “There is a lot riding on this, Shinura. How do I find the First Spellship? Is there a specific series of sigils? Do I need to think happy thoughts? Tell me how to find what I need, or a whole lot of people are going to die.”
“Fine, since you’re determined.” Shinura’s tail stopped flicking. “I will teach you the basic time parameters. You will need to browse the timeline until you find the ship’s signature. It’s quite powerful, which is why we needed to move it to a time where no one would be searching for it. Our enemies would have found it otherwise.”
