by Chris Fox
“It’s gonna be a tough sell. Kezia’s got family here, and she don’t get to see them often. Asking her to risk her life again this soon for no pay? I don’t know man.” Crewes shook his head. “Can’t hurt to ask, I guess.”
Aran sketched a dream sigil, and the blue stairs descended from the cockpit. Did he even have a right to ask Kez to go? She hadn’t been mentioned in the auguries, or when they’d met with Marid. Only he and Voria. Maybe her saying no wasn’t such a bad thing.
The fighter rumbled to life and zipped away from the branch. Aran guided her around the tree, aiming for the sprawl around the roots. The dims, they were called. The closer they flew, the more details leapt into focus. These people lived in hovels, cobbled together largely from mud and discarded refuse. It was a marked contrast to the opulence on the branches above. Even Crewes’s lower branch had it far better than these people.
They landed outside the stretch Voria had indicated. By the time they’d exited the fighter, several dozen tiny drifter children had gathered hopefully.
“Does anybody here know where Kezia lives? Pretty drifter with blond hair.” Aran fished one of the infused apples he’d taken from the Tender’s palace out of his coat. He held it aloft, the light catching the bright red skin. “This came from the Tender’s palace. It’s the tastiest, sweetest apple you will ever eat. The first person to find Kezia and ask her to come here gets two.”
The children stampeded back toward the settlement in a chorus of cheers and cat calls. They all moved in the same direction, a large stack of wooden crates that had been fashioned into a makeshift apartment for a large family.
There was a rapid exchange of completely unintelligible gibberish. After several moments Kezia’s head poked out from a crate on the third level. “Bord, look—it’s Crewes and Aran.” She hopped down excitedly, hurrying over to offer Crewes a hug. The big man returned it awkwardly.
Bord emerged a moment later, a beautiful grin splitting his face. “Did you bring Nara with you? I bet she missed me real bad, and just had to come see me.” His face fell when he saw only Aran. “Oh. It’s you. Welcome, I guess? Where’s Nara? Don’t encourage him, Kezia, he’ll think we want him here.”
“Don’t be jealous, Bord. It’s unattractive.” Kez stuck her tongue out at him…flirtatiously?
“So,” Bord said, “what brought you down to our little—very little—corner of the world? Do you know what they call me here? Big fooker. How great is that? These people think I’m tall.” It came out all in rush, just like the drifters.
Aran cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Voria wants us to follow her into the Umbral Depths.”
“Wow, you don’t sugarcoat anything, do ya?” Bord shook his head and eyed Kezia. “I’m waiting to see what she does before I make a decision.”
“That’s because you know I’m smarter than you are. Of course, so’s that post over there.” Kezia gave him a wink. Her joy ebbed when she looked to Aran. “It’s good to see you, and you’re welcome to stay for dinner, but this is a big ask. The major wants us to joost give up our lives here, and risk it all again? Joost like that? How is she planning to even pay us?”
“I don’t think you should go,” Aran said, a little surprised by the words. Where had those come from? Then he realized where, and he embraced it. “You guys have something here. A family. We’re sailing into darkness, and we may not come back. You guys know what it’s like. Don’t go.”
“Do you mean that?” Bord looked confused. “Don’t you need us?”
“It ain’t about need,” Crewes added. “I agree with the LT. It’s about knowing that, no matter what happens to us, you guys are out here living the life. That make sense?”
“I think I get it.” Kezia’s face fell. “But…what if you die, because we weren’t there to save you?”
“What if we bring you, and we all die anyway?” Aran shrugged, and gave a quick laugh. “Voria wants to do this. I’m part of it, like it or not.”
“And I ain’t got nothing better to do,” Crewes added. “You two do. So get to ’em. If we survive, you owe us the first round.”
22
GOODBYES
Aran hesitated for only a moment before stepping into the kamiza. He’d spent the brief flight considering what to say after he’d dropped off Crewes, but was no closer to an answer. The sounds of combat rolled over him, as they had often during the last few weeks of training.
A dozen apprentices sparred, this group more advanced than the first Aran had seen. They all used spells in their attacks—most of them light-based, with light a subset of life magic. That was common, given their proximity to Shaya. A few students used fire bolts, including a girl with hair of living flame. Only one student, a middle-aged man with a little extra weight around the middle, used a void bolt.
Erika disengaged with the class, leaving them in the care of the middle-aged man. She smiled warmly as she approached, wiping sweat from her cheek with the sleeve of her shirt. “That took longer than I expected. She roped you into something, didn’t she?”
“She did,” Aran admitted. “I can’t say I’m thrilled about it, but I agree with her assessment. There’s a lot more at stake here than my ability to fly a spellfighter or handle a blade. If we don’t pursue this augury, our enemies will.”
“They lurk in the shadows. Always.” Erika gave a sudden sigh. “I wish it were otherwise. I wish we didn’t have to constantly deal with endless threats. I wish we could give our people the proper time to train. Can you tell me anything about this augury? Or where you’re going? I promise I’ll keep it in confidence.”
“I’ve been sworn to secrecy,” Aran said, shrugging. He hadn’t been, but he didn’t think Voria would appreciate him telling someone about the augury, not even Erika. The fewer people who knew, the more likely they’d survive to reach the place.
Ree emerged from the back room. She started as her eyes fell on Aran, then they narrowed and she cut a path through the room, eyes locked on his as she approached. “You’re leaving, aren’t you?”
“I’m taking a leave, yes,” he countered, “but I’ll be back.”
Ree’s frown deepened. “Voria’s not in command any more, mongrel. If you tie your career to hers, it will probably cost your life. Even if it doesn’t, you’re making enemies—powerful ones.” She shook her head. “You have so much potential, but you’re squandering it. You’re throwing your life and your career away, for a woman who wiped your memory and conscripted you into service. Do you understand what you’re giving up? Your children’s children will want for nothing if you marry into the right house.”
“I’m not doing this for Voria, and I don’t care about finding a rich wife.” Aran rested a hand on the hilt of his spellblade. “I care about this. I’m going because I have the ability to. Because if I don’t, then we cede the war to the Krox. Sacrificing myself—or some imaginary career—doesn’t matter, not at all. All that matters is stopping these things. I mean, you’ve both seen into the mind of a god, at least once right?”
“Many times,” Erika murmured.
Ree merely nodded.
“I don’t know what you saw, but what I saw terrifies me. Monsters in the dark, primordial past kind of terror. I don’t know what Krox is, but he had super novas for eyes. His whole goal is to control literally everything in our galaxy, and that’s just a warm-up so he can go do the same thing to every other galaxy he can get his cosmic hands on. Someone stops this thing, or we all pay.” Aran offered Ree a hand. “I know you don’t agree with what I’m doing, but I’m asking you to trust me. It’s necessary. I’m sorry I have to leave, but I will be back. There’s a lot you can teach me, and trust me when I say I want to learn it all.”
Ree shook his hand, but her expression was coldly neutral. “Find me if you survive.”
“I will.” He smiled at her.
She did not return it. Instead, she turned and headed back into the kitchen.
“She handled that better than I expected.�
� Erika gave a chuckle. “But then, you presented a compelling case. I don’t know what you saw in that augury, but I trust your judgement. Tend to this. Survive. Do so, and we’ll be here when you get back.”
“Master Erika, you know I probably won’t make it back.” Aran eyed her pleadingly. “I’d like to die knowing about my past. I’ve learned a little about the Outriders of Virkon, but just a name really. Who or what are they? And do you really think I’m one of them?”
“That’s fair. You’ve worked hard, for a few weeks now at least. I can’t do much, but I can give you this.” She pulled him into a fierce hug, then released him a moment later and cleared her throat. “Now, then. The style you practice is distinctive. It is, so far as I know, the oldest of all styles. It was created by a Wyrm, who trained human disciples. They were deadly, living weapons. That culture continued for hundreds of millennia, an unbroken empire covering many sectors, until that empire fell, as all do.”
Erika’s eyes had adopted a faraway look, as if peering into memory. “One world remains, and I’ve seen it. It’s a world—the only world—where humans and dragons work together. They call themselves the last dragonflight, and they train their Outriders as war mages. Typically an Outrider is assigned to a Wyrm with a team of other Outriders. They roam the galaxy looking for Catalysts. Some claim they’re after power, but that’s not the impression I got. I got the impression their Wyrms were scared, and trying to find the bogeyman they know is hiding in one of the shadows.”
“And you think I’m from this world?” Aran asked, numb from the revelation. It was so much to take in. A whole new past—or part of it, at least. If he could find this world, he might even find people who’d known him before his mind had been wiped.
“I’d stake my reputation on it. You’re an Outrider. You fight like one. You move like one. The style is all predatory, like a dragon. It’s always pounce, maim, kill. By far the most aggressive style.”
“Doesn’t that kind of style leave you open to counterattack?” Aran asked. It sounded foolish not to prepare a defense.
“It can, but you’d be amazed how often it works. You overwhelm someone, and all they can focus on is defending themselves. They no longer think about attack, and they fight the battle purely on your terms.” She shrugged, then grinned. “Of course if an Outrider tries that garbage with me, I’ll shit a lightning bolt down the hole I tear in their face. You come back to me, and I’ll fix that particular gap in your knowledge. No one will ever take you apart in a fight like I have, ever again.”
Aran returned her grin, then gathered her into another hug. “I definitely like the idea of not getting my ass kicked as frequently. If I live, I’ll be back. Thank you, Erika.”
23
HELLOS
“Hello?” Nara called hesitantly. There was no answer.
She ducked inside the hatch, clutching her new staff in a death grip. Was this the right ship? Part of her hoped not. Rust flaked from the walls, and unless this thing had some real surprises, she wasn’t sure it could even break orbit.
The interior was dimly lit, so she paused to give her eyes a moment to adjust. The corridor stank of ozone, grease, and less pleasant things.
“Wow.” An unfamiliar voice came from her left, and Nara instinctively reached for her spellpistol. Some habits died hard.
Only when she realized it was gone did she raise her hand and prepare to cast, like a proper mage.
The man seemed harmless enough. He wore a set of grey overalls covered in dark stains and reeking of sweat. A mop of thick, red hair covered his forehead and drooped over a thick pair of glasses. He had, if it were possible, even more freckles than she did.
“I, uh, wow. You are about the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. I’m really sorry for sounding like an idiot, but…wow. I’m, uh, Pickus.” He extended a trembling hand, then withdrew it a second later. “Wait, you’re carrying one of those magic sticks. You’re not gonna turn me into anything, are you?”
Nara gave a delighted laugh. She offered her hand, and the man took it. His face lit up as he pumped it furiously about a dozen times before releasing it.
She wiped her hand on her jacket, leaving a greasy streak. “I’m Nara. Is this the Big Texas? I’m supposed to meet Captain Voria here. I hope I’m in the right place.”
“You are most definitely in the right place. Course, I’d have said that even if it weren’t true, just to keep you around for a couple minutes. Where are my manners? Come on, I’ll take you to the mess and fix you some lunch. The captain should be back soon. There’s another guy here, too. Big dark-skinned guy—like a mountain, but talks less.” Pickus waved at her to follow, and started deeper into the ship.
She noticed he left the panel he’d been working on open, with exposed wiring. Nara closed it as she passed, then followed him into a small mess.
Crewes’s massive form was squeezed into a small seat at the only table. “Nara.” He rose with a sudden grin. “Man, am I glad to see you. Captain wasn’t sure you’d come along on our little, uh, excursion.” He approached her and put a hand awkwardly on her shoulder. “Listen, I don’t really do this emotional shit, but since she probably won’t say it, I will: Thank you. For coming.”
“Yeah, thanks, Nara.” Pickus dropped into a seat at the table, removed a small device with a glowing screen from his pocket, and began tapping at it. It wasn’t all that dissimilar from her scry-pad, though she sensed no magic emanating from it. Pickus didn’t look up at her as he spoke. “So what do you do, exactly? I’m guessing Crewes kills bad guys, and Voria gives orders.”
“I’m a true mage.” It was the first time she’d ever said it aloud.
“There’s different kinds of true mage, right? What do you do?” Pickus set his device on the table and looked at her with keen interest. “I don’t know much about magic, but I’d love to learn.”
“I’m an illusionist. I can cast other spells, too, but that’s what I’m best at.” Nara raised a hand and sketched air, then dream. An illusionary image of Frit appeared, as lifelike as Nara was able to create.
“Wow. Beautiful and talented. If you tell me you’re also intelligent and happen to like galactic archeology, then I think I’m in real trouble.” He grinned up at her, and Nara found herself grinning back. She liked the mousey little mechanic.
Aran spoke from behind her. “Oh, Bord is definitely not going to like this guy. He’s way too charming.”
Nara spun to face him. She hadn’t seen him in weeks, and drank in the sight. His lean frame had put on muscle, and he’d let his stubble grow into a full beard that hugged his jawline. His dark hair had been cut short, balancing the beard.
She smiled. “You look good.”
Aran crossed the room in three steps and seized her in a fierce hug. She hugged him back, burying her face in his shoulder.
“I missed you,” he whispered.
“You realize we don’t have bedrooms on this tub, right?” Crewes groused. “If you two get all mushy, the rest of us get sick. Not cool, people.”
Aran released her, then moved to hug Crewes. “So you want some, too? Is that what I’m hearing?”
“If you touch me, I’ll burn that sad excuse for a beard right off your too-pretty face.” Crewes grinned. “Uh, sir.”
They all laughed, and Aran moved to sit next to Pickus. “Hey, we haven’t met. I’m Aran.”
“Pickus.” The redhead pumped Aran’s hand enthusiastically. “So you’ve got a sword? I’d heard people still use those. Listen, man, I don’t want to offend you, so you tell me if I’m being too forward. You do know they’ve invented guns right? Like those are a thing here?”
Aran sketched a void sigil and a vertical slash appeared in the air. “I’m a war mage. We use the right tool for every job. Sometimes that’s a spellblade.” He reached into the void pocket and withdrew his sleek rifle. “And sometimes it’s a spellrifle.”
“Whoah. Can I hold it?” Pickus held out both hands, and Aran handed the rifle over.<
br />
Nara heard footsteps coming up the catwalk, and glanced over her shoulder in time to see Voria enter the room. Her eyes looked a little glassy, and she moved slower than usual.
Wait, was she…relaxed? Her shoulders were slumped. Nara had been positive the woman had surgically added an iron rod to her spine.
“Sergeant, I’m pleased to see you came, and I can see you’ve all met Pickus.” Voria gave Crewes a respectful nod. “Where are Bord and Kezia?”
Nara smiled at that, looking around. She’d missed both of them, especially Bord. His endless persistence made the little man rather endearing.
Aran’s face drained of emotion, and he tensed as if preparing for a blow. “They aren’t coming. Kezia has family she needs to see to, and Bord decided to stay with her.”
Voria’s mouth fell open, but no words came. It was the most telling reaction Nara had ever seen the woman display. She stood there for several seconds, unable to summon any sort of response.
“Well…that’s their decision, I suppose.” Voria cleared her throat and wiped at the corner of her eye. “We’ll just have to make do with what we have.” She took a deep breath, regaining some of her composure. “As you all know, we’re heading into the Umbral Depths. Supplies have already been loaded. Aran, you have the command matrix. Crewes, you’re on offense. I will handle defense.”
Voria moved to her matrix, slipping between the rotating rings. Aran and Crewes moved to their own, leaving Nara standing there, ignored. Her fists clenched. Voria had made a habit of underestimating her, but this was going too far.
“Captain, I am the only other true mage in your command. Is there a reason you haven’t assigned me to a matrix?” She folded her arms, and tried to adopt the kind of sternly confident pose Voria always used.
Voria turned to her with a frown. “You’re the only one capable of handling all three matrices, which means you can stand second for all of us.”
