Void Wyrm: The Magitech Chronicles Book 2

by Chris Fox

  “Took you long enough, pirate girl,” Eros said, without looking at her. He pointed to another floating couch. “Sit.”

  Nara looked to the couch, then at Voria. The corners of Voria’s mouth twitched down, just a hair. Nara moved stubbornly to the couch, sitting comfortably. Eros preened as if she’d brought him a present, a clear sign they were fighting—over her, she guessed.

  “Captain Voria has come to ask you to accompany her on a mad quest into the Umbral Depths,” Eros explained. He gave Voria an amused look. “She’s citing an obscure law from the ratification of the Confederacy. Any soldier who exhibits exceptional valor may request an extended leave when the battle is done. Apparently, this was used for them to make a pilgrimage home to thank Shaya for their victory. But she wants you to use this time to commit suicide.”

  “Sir?” Nara asked, turning to Voria; her face hadn’t aged, exactly, but her weariness gave that appearance. “What happened at the trial?”

  “I was stripped of command.” Voria’s mouth firmed into a tight line. “The Hunter will likely be decommissioned, and we will be divided up piecemeal and given to whatever unit or house bids the most credits for us.”

  “But, after everything we did…” Nara trailed off. She balled her hands into fists, her head snapping back up. “So let me see if I’ve got this straight. You want me to leave my training here to follow you on a mission for the Confederacy, even knowing the Confederacy is responsible for stripping you of your command? Why would I do that?”

  “Because this is bigger than either of us.” Voria’s hands fell to her sides, and some of the hardness left her face. “The Tender herself showed me an augury. Something is happening in the Umbral Depths. There’s a world there, a world we’re meant to discover. Aurelia believes that we’ll find the weapons we need to fight the Krox. I can’t do this without you, Nara. I need you, and so does Aran.”

  “Has he agreed to go?” Nara asked coldly.

  Voria nodded. “He has. Nara, please. You were on Marid. You saw the same things I did. If we don’t undertake this mission, if we don’t find whatever is hidden on this world, then Nebiat will. The Krox will. You know what will happen if they gain an even bigger advantage than they already have.”

  Voria’s voice lacked conviction, and hit Nara harder than the words themselves. She was at the breaking point—attacked from all sides, including her own. Nara stowed her own anger, reaching instead for empathy. “I’m sorry, Captain Voria. I want to help, but I’m not strong enough yet. Give me some time to train, then call on me whenever you like. But right now? I’ve just begun my training. There’s so much for me to learn. I need time.”

  “I see Eros has already begun to work on you.” Voria turned a baleful eye toward the handsome Shayan.

  “Is he wrong?” Nara protested. “I need time to master my abilities. I could be really strong one day. Maybe stronger than you.”

  “Maybe.” Voria’s face softened, torn with indecision. “If you don’t want to go, I obviously can’t force you. I wouldn’t ask if the matter weren’t urgent. Crewes, Aran, Kez… If they’re going, they need that backup. I can’t be the only true mage, Nara. I need help. I don’t mind admitting that. I’m no illusionist, and you’ve already saved us all once.”

  Nara looked to Eros, who studied her silently. “Master Eros, what do you think I should do?”

  “You’re at a crossroads, pirate girl. If you believe Voria, then going with her could save lives. More likely, they’re going to die, and going with them simply ensures you’ll die, too.” He leaned forward on his couch, sneering at Voria. “I’ve seen many good apprentices die at her feet, pirate girl. I’d hoped that tradition had come to an end.”

  “She was right on Marid,” Nara admitted. “She could be right here, too. I can’t risk ignoring her. But make no mistake, Captain. I’m coming of my own free will. I don’t work for you anymore.”

  Voria looked taken aback. Nara thought maybe she should be, and straightened proudly. She wasn’t going to be anyone’s door mat.

  “Are you going to send her into combat unarmed?” Voria asked Eros. She raised an eyebrow. Eros looked embarrassed for some reason. “You just claimed to be her master, didn’t you? You know the ancient laws as well as I.”

  “You and your obscure laws. Pirate girl indeed. I should have expected this,” Eros said wearily. “If you are going to go I am honor-bound to arm you. Take a staff. Whichever you think best fits you. Consider it repayment for the destruction of your spellpistol.” Eros waved a hand, and the illusionary wall covering one side of his office winked out of existence.

  Several staves hung from the wall, each distinct in its own way. The one on the far right was largest, a full three meters—too impractical to carry around. The next topped two meters, and was still longer than she’d prefer. The third and fourth weapons were more the right size, with one much more elaborate than the other.

  The elaborate one had several emeralds rotating around the tip, each pulsing with clean, cool energy. The haft was golden—some sort of magical alloy, though not one Nara was familiar with.

  The last staff was simple. A two-meter length of silvery feathersteel, with a single dark onyx set in the tip. That onyx had a dark nimbus of faint power, but the staff was otherwise unremarkable.

  She raised an eyebrow at Eros. “I can take one of these? And I get to pick which one?”

  “Think of it as an investment,” Eros said. His couch drifted closer, and he scowled at her. “If you somehow survive the journey to this world, you will encounter the Catalyst from the captain’s augury. Yes—didn’t know I’d already seen it, did you, Voria? When you encounter this Catalyst, the staff you take with you will grow in power. Use this trip well. When you return, be ready to to study, pirate girl.”

  “Yes, master.” Nara sketched a bow, and moved to inspect the staves more closely. She had no idea what the wisest choice would be, and her attention shifted from staff to staff as she struggled to decide.

  “Which will you take, and why?” Eros asked.

  “I like the one with the feathersteel rod as the base.” She studied the smallest staff, particularly the onyx at the top. “It’s lightweight, strong enough to break bone, and able to hold at least three catalizations. I can fight with a weapon like that, so I should pick one that will enhance my offensive capabilities. Its power will grow with me, and I can forge it into the weapon I need.”

  She touched the nimbus of dark energy around the tip. It was cold, but not painfully so. “This one is the youngest, but if I understand the little I’ve learned of enchantment, that also gives it the most potential to grow. If you want to invest in me, then this is the one I should take. I will bring it back to you someday, a full eldimagus.”

  “I’ve no doubt of it. And remember: you are my apprentice, not hers.” Eros gave the smuggest look anyone had ever given to Voria’s annoyed face. “Fight well, pirate girl. And return safely. I have a great deal to teach you, and I can’t do that if you are dead.”

  20

  POSTURING

  Voria waited for Nara to exit the room, then rose and moved to the door. “May I?”

  “You may.” Eros waved absently as he settled back into his chair.

  He removed a pipe from his jacket, and lit it with a spark of flame from his finger. He puffed several times, then blew the cloud out over his head. The heady scent of dried fern filled the room. Voria knew she’d be a giggly fool if she spent more than a few minutes in here with the door closed.

  Eros offered her the pipe. “So, how do you want to do this?”

  “Can we skip the posturing?” Voria asked, refusing the pipe with a shake of her head. She sat on one of the couches, and sank into it like it was a sponge. They were maddening, and it was impossible to retain proper posture.

  “We can keep it to a minimum, at least. I’ll start. That girl has more potential than you ever showed, Voria. I show her a spell once, just once mind you, and she’s mastered it. I’ve
never seen anyone so driven to learn, or so apt an apprentice. If I can ensure that her moral compass isn’t permanently broken then she could be the finest mage in a generation. She’s far more important than you, in the long run.” Eros enjoyed another puff, exhaling it above him again. His eyes had gone glazed, and a boyish smile graced his face. “If you are the end of her, I will travel back in time and kill you in this very instant. Don’t come back without her. There, how did I do?”

  “Marvelously. Here’s mine. You’re a pathetic worm, Master Eros. You hide in here wasting your enormous power, even though you could be out there making a difference. If you’d been at Marid, then Nebiat wouldn’t have escaped. We need you, and you’re here training children? It’s madness. I’ll take Nara with me, and if we need to die to fulfill this augury, then so be it. The galaxy is greater than your new star pupil.” Voria frowned at that last part. She’d been the star pupil at one point, and seeing him lavish his attention on another stung—even if he was right. “Can we talk about Nara now?”

  “Your posturing was excellent. You’re sure I can’t tempt you?” He offered her the pipe again, but she declined. She already felt like someone had stuffed cotton into her head. “The girl knows far too many spells, especially second-level spells. Why haven’t we heard of her? She has to have apprenticed to someone significant, and there aren’t that many mages who could have trained her in illusion.”

  “That’s my worry,” she sighed. “Aran caught the mage’s name: Yorrak. I’ve been able to learn nothing. I don’t know who he is, or who he works for. Even if I did, I suspect he was just a tool for someone else. The way he disposed of Aran and Kazon—or attempted to—was too sloppy to be the work of a true master.”

  “You spent time looking into this? I thought you were consumed with your quest for Krox?” Eros asked mildly. The rebuke was there, though. “This isn’t the same threat, or I doubt it is. This is something new.”

  “I don’t have the time or willpower to deal with a new threat, so I’ll leave that to you, Eros. We need to know more about where Nara came from, and who she worked for. No one likes losing an apprentice; if Yorrak was part of something greater, they might come looking for her. Even if they don’t, I’d still feel more comfortable knowing where she comes from.” She paused. “Did she tell you about Aran?”

  “I was wondering when you’d bring that up.” Eros sighed heavily. “You know better than anyone how I feel about romantic entanglements. I mean, your father is the worst slut in the sector. Possibly multiple sectors. You have more siblings than Shaya has limbs.”

  “That wasn’t very nice, but it was accurate.” Normally Voria would have been upset at a comment about her parentage, but for some reason she felt entirely mellow about it. “I don’t think you need to worry. Nara and Aran care for each other, but it isn’t love, though it could one day become that. They’re battle-brothers. They trained together. They were wiped together. If she trusts anyone, it isn’t me—or you, I’m betting. It’s him.”

  “The war mage.” Eros crinkled his nose distastefully. “Well, at least she has someone to confide it, and at least that trust is built through combat. A true mage can’t afford attachments. We don’t get to rut around like pigs in heat. Make sure she’s aware of that, but do it delicately. And don’t tell her I’m behind it.”

  “If you want to tell her who she can sleep with, you go right ahead. I won’t be a party to that kind of nonsense. We’re all going to be dead in a few decades, even if we win every battle we ever fight. People should find happiness where they can.” Voria felt she’d made an excellent point, and grinned drunkenly at Eros as she began to laugh. “You know, you have an absurdly handsome face, but you really are the most arrogant prick I have ever met.” The laughter grew. “Oh, I can’t believe I said that.”

  “Whatever would your soldiers think?” Eros laughed, too. It lasted just long enough for them to realize they were sharing a moment, then they stopped at nearly the same instant.

  “Well, then.” Voria rose shakily to her feet. “I’m off on my suicidal quest. Do try to learn more about whoever Yorrak is, and who trained him.”

  “Tomorrow. Today I’m just going to stare at the ceiling.”

  Voria left the chamber feeling better than she had in days—in weeks. And not just the drug-induced euphoria, though that was rather pleasant.

  No, it was the knowledge that she wouldn’t have to face this alone. Nara would be there, and Aran. Maybe, just maybe, they could do this.

  21

  CHOICES

  For a single moment Aran considered taking the spellfighter and leaving Shaya. He had void magic now. He could open a Fissure.

  But as alluring as the idea was, he simply couldn’t do it. It wasn’t that the others needed him—though the idea of Nara dying because he wasn’t there horrified him.

  It was the fact that they’d been selected as the only possibility of the sector outliving the Krox. He couldn’t live with the scale of the death that would occur if he walked away. Not to mention the fact that he didn’t have any navigational charts for the Umbral Depths, and if he entered, odds were good he’d never emerge again.

  He cruised down to the ninth branch, more than three kilometers below the Tender’s floating palace, about midway down the tree. Apparently Crewes had an apartment here. Aran had a hard time picturing the sergeant in any environment other than combat. He couldn’t even picture Crewes outside of his armor, despite having seen him in a normal uniform just a few weeks back.

  He landed next to a trio of battered transport ships in what amounted to a parking lot, though redwood trees had been planted haphazardly to make it look more like a park. All it did was make it more difficult for ships to land, so far as he could tell.

  Aran headed for an oblong building that curved around a stretch of mossy grass. Half a dozen children of various ages ran and played. A few threw light missiles at each other, making the kids who lacked the ability to cast them visibly jealous.

  “Hey,” he called to a boy he’d guess was around sixteen. “Do you know where Sergeant Crewes lives?”

  “Sergeant? I know where the Crewes lives, if that’s what you’re asking. Apartment 4B, right over there. But I gotta warn you, if you’re here to give him trouble, that little spellblade ain’t gonna do shit to save you.” The kid gave Aran a dismissive laugh.

  Aran shrugged and headed up the stairs to the second level. Orchestral music came from Crewes’s apartment. Aran sketched a fire sigil on the door, and a bright light flashed in the apartment.

  Footsteps sounded inside, and the door opened. The music blasted out, overpowering the woman’s words. She gave an exasperated sigh, and disappeared back into the apartment.

  The music stopped, and she returned with a frown. “What do you want?”

  “I’m, uh, a friend of Crewes’s. I was hoping to speak with him.”

  “Turrreeeen!” she yelled over her shoulder. “You’ve got a visitor. Come deal with him, so I can get back to my holodrama. It’s bad enough you gotta cramp up my sewing room. Couldn’t you have stayed with your brother? He’s got a lot more space with that fancy job of his, and you two need to spend more time together.”

  Crewes hurried into view, and for a moment Aran thought it had to be someone else. The sergeant wore a simple t-shirt and a pair of jeans, the mass-produced kind peddled by Ternus. Aran could accept that, but the sergeant’s demeanor was…wrong.

  “I’m sorry, Ma. You know I can’t stay with Mercelus. He’s prosecuting my CO. It ain’t right.” He bent down to kiss his mother’s cheek. “I’ll get the LT here out of your hair. Why don’t you go sit down, and I’ll bring you some hot beer?”

  “I know I’m just a wipe,” Aran offered, “but I don’t think you’re supposed to heat it.”

  “I know that,” Crewes snapped in a low voice, “but she drinks it that way, and you aren’t going to tell her any different. Now what the depths are you doing here, LT? This is my private life. The Confed
eracy don’t get to intrude on that.”

  “Voria sent me to—”

  “The major sent you? Let me get my coat.” He turned and grabbed a leather jacket from the hook near the door, then yelled over his shoulder, “Ma! I’ll be back in a while.” He turned to Aran and lowered his voice. “Come on, let’s get out quick before she figures out I’m not making her that beer. We’ll have to spend the rest of the evening hearing about how great my brother is, and how I need a real job.”

  Crewes closed the door, and hurried up the walk toward the parking lot where the ship was parked.

  “You’re not even going to ask what Voria needs?” Aran asked as he finally caught up.

  “Man, it’s weird hearing you call her that. I forget the major’s got a real name. Don’t matter what she needs. I’m so ready to get out of that house. I don’t care if the major wants us to fly into the frigging Umbral Depths. It’s better than here.” He stopped and turned to Aran. “I gotta be honest, LT. You heard my mom talk about my brother’s fancy new job? He’s a prosecutor. Guess which case he just finished? So yeah, let’s get the depths out of here.”

  “Yeah, about that,” Aran said, moving to his fighter. “The major’s taking us into the depths. Not through them to go somewhere else. We’re trying to reach a world inside the Umbral Depths.”

  “Shit.” Crewes looked briefly back at his apartment, considering. “You know what? It’s worth it. Let’s get out of here. You got my armor squared away?”

  “The major talked to Davidson, and he looked the other way while she smuggled it off.” Aran kept his voice low, though he doubted any of the toughs eyeing them cared.

  “You talked to Bord and Kez?”

  “They’re next on my list. I figured seeing you with me might make them more likely to come.”