Void Wyrm: The Magitech Chronicles Book 2

by Chris Fox

“If that thing comes down…” She shivered. “What do you need me to do?”

  “Get people out, as many as possible. We’re going to try to stop Dirk, but we have no idea if we can even get there in time.” Aran guided the ship to a smooth landing beside several other ships, at the edge of Ducius’s compound.

  “We’ll do what we can. Shaya watch over you, sir.” She gave a quick salute, then the connection terminated.

  Aran leapt from the command matrix, sprinting down into the cargo room. The rest of the crew followed, and found Pickus already down there.

  “I know I don’t have a suit of your fancy armor, but I want to help. I can fire a spellrifle, at least.” He held up a rifle he’d apparently taken from the armory. Aran made a mental note to catalogue the contents of that armory, at the first opportunity. He couldn’t believe he’d forgotten to do that on their voyage home.

  “Have you ever fired any type of rifle?” Crewes demanded as he hastily donned his armor.

  “Uh, well, no. But how hard can it be? You point it at something, and shoot, right?” Pickus protested. He pushed his mop of hair out of his eyes. “Nara does it.”

  Aran winced.

  “Nara does it?” Nara’s eyebrows knit together and she loomed dangerous over Pickus.

  “Nara is a seasoned Marine,” Aran shot back. He took a breath. Pickus might not realize how he’d insulted her, though her cold stare was a big clue. “She’s fought Krox enforcers, walking corpses, and full Wyrms.”

  Pickus deflated. “So what can I do? I don’t want to just sit here and watch holos.”

  “Hang out near the command matrix,” Aran instructed. “If we can’t stop Dirk our parking space is going to detonate. If that happens, I need you to be ready to pilot. There’s a manual up there that will walk you through the basics.”

  “A manual you say?” Pickus perked up a bit. “A thick one?”

  “It’s like seven hundred pages. Get to work, fire mage!” Aran thrust a finger toward the bridge, and Pickus sprinted out of sight.

  “You’re not really going to trust him with piloting the spellship, are you?” Nara asked. Some of the fire had left her gaze, but Aran could still feel the anger radiating off her.

  “Of course not. If we get into trouble we’ll ’port back up here, but I want to keep him out of trouble, and I think this will keep him busy.” Aran sketched a void sigil and slid into his armor. “Now let’s get out there and stop this.”

  The ramp lowered and Aran burst out into the Shayan sky. Nara followed, then Crewes. The sergeant’s armor was a lot less maneuverable, but what he lacked in finesse he made up for in power.

  “Halt!” Boomed a voice from the far side of the parking area.

  Aran spun his armor to see two suits of golden Mark X spellarmor, both raising spellrifles in his direction. He landed and made no move to reach into his void pocket. “Calm down. We’re on the same side. I know you have to recognize us. We were just at the Tender’s palace the other day.”

  “So was Dirk, but he’s gone renegade. Until we have proof you aren’t bound, you’re going to step out of that armor and sit very quietly.” The woman called confidently.

  “Yeah, that’s not going to happen.” Aran reached into his void pocket and yanked out his rifle. The woman in the golden armor fired, but Aran stepped nimbly out of the path of the spell. It came easily. Effortlessly. His armor moved with a grace that could only be the result of Neith’s augmentation.

  Aran kept the barrel of his spellrifle pointed at the ground. “I’m going to give you one chance. You’re standing between us and a battle that will result in the entire second burl crushing the city below. Now we’ve just returned from a trip into the Umbral Depths where we met a living god. You really want to test yourselves against us?”

  “Bet it’ll be an interesting fight,” Crewes called. He raised his spellcannon, resting the fat barrel on the shoulder of his spellarmor. “I’ve always wanted to kick some Shayan noble ass. Since I never really got to punch Thalas, I’m happy to punch you two stains instead. You wanna dance?”

  The leader hesitated, then lowered her rifle. Aran released the breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding.

  “If you get past us you come up behind our strike team. If you’re working with Dirk, that could guarantee we lose. So convince me. Why should we let you past? I’m willing to listen.” The woman asked rigidly.

  “All right. We returned with Major Voria, and she’s been touched by a god. That god showed her that the Tender would be attacked by a Krox dreadlord. You’ve heard of Nebiat?”

  “Every Shayan has,” the woman breathed. “Nebiat is the very worst the Krox can bring to bear. She slaughtered my men at Vakera.”

  “She’s going to take a shot at the Tender. We’ve sent help, but I have a feeling more would be a really, really good idea.” Aran started walking slowly toward the jagged hole in Shaya’s trunk. “If you’re not going to go help her, then at least come with us. You want to walk behind us with your weapons out? Great. You’ll see which side we’re on soon enough.”

  “The Tender is in danger?” the woman choked out. She turned to her companion. “We have to gather the Caretakers. She cannot be harmed.”

  “What about Shaya? What about our post?” the man in the other set of armor asked. “Even if you trust this…human, what about honor?”

  “Honor be damned,” she cursed. “We’re going to save the Tender, or die in the attempt. Aran you said your name was? I’m going to trust you. I hope I’m not a terrible judge of character.”

  She turned and sprinted toward a spellfighter. After a moment her companion turned and ran for another.

  “Aww.” Crewes thumped his fists together. “I was looking forward to a good scrap.”

  “I have a feeling we’re about to get one.” Aran lifted off and guided his spellarmor inside the corpse of a goddess.

  47

  NEW FRIENDS

  Nara’s heart thundered as the adrenaline surged through her. She piloted her spellarmor after Aran into Shaya’s musky interior, gazing around in wonder. It wasn’t much different than the inside of a redwood tree, just on a massive scale. Sap ran thickly down the walls of the smooth tunnel, the trees attempt to seal the wound.

  They flew through the tunnel Dirk had bored into the goddess, through the thick bark, and into a soft, golden wood. Their path took them down at an angle so steep anyone without a suit of spellarmor wouldn’t have been able to make the climb.

  Spells flashed ahead, dozens of them.

  “Nara, can you get us under cover?” Aran asked confidently. He’d definitely settled back into the officer role, especially after whatever Neith had done to him. The lingering doubts he always seemed to carry were simply…gone. Like he’d been made whole somehow.

  Nara sketched a dream sigil, then an air. She added another, and another, humming softly as she completed the illusion. Not so long ago she’d needed a potion to cast a sphere of invisibility.

  The illusion rippled outward, enveloping Aran and Crewes. The instant the spell completed, Aran dropped slowly down the tunnel. Nara followed closely to ensure he didn’t get out of range. Having him suddenly appear in the middle of a firefight because he left the spell’s radius would probably ruin their whole day.

  The tunnel leveled out, and they finally got a look at the combat. Several war mages had been pinned down behind thick chunks of wood. They were trying to make it deeper into the tree, but several Krox enforcers were firing spirit bolts at any war mage who left cover.

  “I recognize their leader,” Aran called. He pointed at a suit of silver Mark IX armor. “That’s Reekala, one of the war mage instructors from Erika’s kamiza.”

  “Can you reason with her?” Nara asked dubiously. Her mistrust of Shayan nobles only grew over time. They’d yet to meet one who wasn’t a total ass. Even the major came with a healthy dose of insufferability.

  “Probably not,” Aran admitted. “Not quickly anyway. I doubt the Krox hav
e access to pierce invisibility though. The best way to get Ree to trust us is to start dropping Krox.”

  “Well we do want to make friends.” Nara started counting opponents, and considering possible spells. “If we save her ass I’m going to have to rub it in her face. Just warning her up front.”

  “She’d deserve it after the way she treated you. Let’s give it a shot. We’ll fly over them and Crewes and I will exit the sphere and begin our assault. Nara, get into cover and see if you can drop a couple of these guys without exposing yourself.” Aran didn’t wait for confirmation, instead zooming from invisibility sphere as they neared the Krox.

  He fell on the Enforcers like a comet, demonstrating a ferocity made Nara glad he was on their side. He led with a level-three void bolt, which caught the first enforcer in the eye, killing it instantly. Then his blade was in his hand, larger and longer than the last time she’d seen him wield it.

  The blade flared white as heat shimmered out from it. Then Aran’s familiar void lightning crackled down the blade, adding to the destructive power. Aran leaped on the back of the next Krox, and buried the blade deep through its shoulder, and into its chest. The creature’s body went rigid, and smoke rose from its eyes as the magic cooked it from the inside.

  Nara blinked. She remembered the first time they’d engaged enforcers. Not so long ago, they’d had Thalas, too, and the four of them had still struggled to overcome a pair of them. Aran had just dropped that many in his opening attack. The way he flowed from attack to attack was beautiful and terrifying, and his speed was incredible now.

  Crewes hit the other flank, shoving his cannon into an enforcer’s face. “Hey there. How about some surprise magma?” Molten rock burst into the creature’s face, and it shrieked as it tried to claw the burning magma from its face. Crewes shot it again, this time in the groin. The enforcer collapsed, not dead, but definitely incapacitated.

  Another Krox had become aware of Crewes, and leapt at him, wings extended. Crewes fired his thruster, ramming his helmet into the Krox’s face. Bone and scale met enchanted metal, and both lost. Crewes’s helmet shattered, but so did the Krox’s face.

  “Want to see what a god gave me?” Crewes roared. “You’re gonna love it. Trust me.” He sucked in a deep breath, and exhaled a river of boiling white flame. It flowed into the Krox’s mouth, into its gullet. The creature shrieked, flapping weakly away as it released the sergeant. “That’s what I thought, stain.”

  The last few Enforcers, leapt away, quickly retreating around a bend in the tunnel.

  “Pursue?” Nara called.

  “Not yet. Let’s link up with Ree,” Aran yelled back.

  “Mongrel?” called a clear female voice. The set of Mark IX armor trotted forward, stopping near Aran’s armor. “What in the depths are you doing here?”

  “I’ve got bad news and worse news.” Aran landed next to her, and raised his faceplate.

  Something clenched in Nara when the woman glided up. Maybe it was the way she said his name, or the way he responded to it. There was something there, between them. It wasn’t like she had any sort of claim to Aran, but the idea of him being with someone as arrogant and condescending as Ree twisted her guts into a knot.

  The woman’s faceplate came up, and sure enough, she possessed the same ethereal beauty the major did. Thick scarlet hair framed a perfect face, the kind that inspired statues. How did a normal woman compete with that?

  “Tell me.” Ree’s mouth firmed, and her eyes tightened angrily.

  Aran’s eyes hardened. “The Tender is under attack by a Krox dreadlord. That’s the bad news. The worse news? Erika has been bound.”

  A bolt of crackling energy, a mix of air, void, and fire, zipped over Aran’s shoulder. It caught Ree directly in the chest, blasting a hole in her armor and hurling her into the wall behind her.

  “Ree,” Aran roared, then spun to face whoever had attacked them, his blade raised.

  Nara didn’t recognize the woman who’d attacked. Her hair was the same color as Voria’s, but she looked older. Her late forties, though Nara had the impression the woman was both far older and far more powerful than she appeared.

  “It’s a pity you decided to show up, Aran. I truly regret having to kill you.” The woman held a naked spellblade, but didn’t wear spellarmor. Who was she, that she thought she could stand up to their entire company?

  Aran’s faceplate snapped shut. A moment later a video missive appeared in the corner of Nara’s screen. “We’re going to have a hard time taking her. Erika is a lot more powerful than she appears. Crewes, I want you to distract her while I get behind her. When she turns to face me, I’m hoping Ree and her friends will give us a hand. If not, I don’t like our chances.”

  “Take your time,” Erika called, boldly. “We can get started whenever you’re ready.”

  48

  IMPROVISATION

  Aran jetted forward, the tip of his blade crackling with power as it flashed out at his mentor. He knew he’d never connect, but he also knew Erika would have no choice but to respond. If she were dealing with him, she couldn’t attack Crewes or Nara.

  The master hopped backward and flung a hand in his direction. A tendril of air wrapped around his leg, yanking the suit down.

  He reached out with his gravity magic, struggling to maintain his altitude. Erika’s magic pulled him lower, and in a few more seconds he’d be within her reach.

  “You’re outmatched,” she taunted.

  “Good thing I didn’t come alone, huh?”

  Crewes’s shoulder impacted against Erika’s back, launching her across the tunnel into the far wall. She slammed into it with a sharp crack, slumping to the ground. “This is the fancy bitch you been talking so much about? I am not impressed.”

  Erika flipped back to her feet, blood flowing freely from a gash in her forehead. She touched it with two fingers, then frowned and sprinted up the side of the wall, dodging a hail of life bolts from Ree and her war mages. She rolled from the wall into a slide, pulling a dagger from her boot sheath as she passed under Crewes. She slammed the slender weapon into the side of Crewes’s knee, and green lightning played around the wound.

  The sergeant gave a pained roar. “Still not impressed, bitch.”

  Crewes fired a napalm round into the ground ahead of Erika. It detonated spectacularly into a blanket of liquid flame and Erika slid through it. The fire clung to her like a living thing, but the flames did little more than singe her clothing. Her eyes narrowed, smoke rising in little plumes.

  “You think you understand magic, tech mage?” Erika sketched a sigil and the dagger in Crewes’s leg exploded. He was flung spinning into the wall, and when his body stopped moving Aran realized everything below the thigh was…gone. The spellarmor ended at a jacket, blackened stump.

  Aran charged, leading with a quick flurry of strikes. He adopted Drakon stance, but this time…he understood it. Erika parried the first several blows, and Aran studied her movements, the same way she studied his.

  “Interesting. You’re showing improvisation. That shouldn’t be possible, unless your mental block was somehow removed.” Erika suddenly took the offensive, coming at him in Mantid stance. She launched a high strike, which he did nothing to defend himself against.

  Her blade slid between the seam where his helmet met the chest. The weapon punched through his armor, continuing out his back. Only adrenaline kept the pain at bay long enough to respond.

  Aran punched Erika in her unarmored gut. The suit already enhanced his strength, but whatever Neith had done dramatically increased it, and he fueled it further with a burst of fire magic. His gauntlet cracked ribs and lifted Erika a meter into the air. He lunged forward with his faceplate, smashing it into the bridge of her nose. The helmet cracked, but Erika’s nose shattered as she was flung backward.

  Right into Ree. Ree launched a roundhouse that caught Erika in the back of the head, flinging her back in Aran’s direction. He raised his blade, bringing it up in a powerful s
lash. Somehow Erika’s foot landed on the blade, and she flipped away from them.

  She landed in the midst of the war mages, her students. They eyed her uncertainty, either unwilling or unable to strike their master. Erika took full advantage of that. She snapped a tall woman’s neck, snatching up her discarded spellblade. Erika carved through the rest of the war mages, dropping them with ruthless efficiency.

  “No!” Ree screamed. She sprinted in Erika’s direction, but the master didn’t wait.

  Erika leapt again, her air magic carrying her further up the corridor, and she sprinted off into the darkness, after the enforcers.

  “Come on,” Ree yelled over her shoulder, holding her side with one hand. Waves of warm energy flowed from her palm, into the wound, and Ree straightened with a relieved sigh. “We need to go after her. She’s hurt, but if we give her time she’ll use her life magic to repair the damage. We need to keep up the pressure.”

  “Sure thing, just let me pull the sword out of my frigging chest.” Aran seized the hilt, yanking the weapon loose with a groan. He dropped it to the ground, staggering into the wall.

  “I’ve got you.” Nara was there suddenly. “Hang in there. You’re losing blood.”

  Aran relaxed into her, thankful for the support. The adrenaline was quickly fading, bringing a tide of pain in its wake. Maybe letting Erika run him through hadn’t been the smartest decision.

  “Do you have any potions?” Ree asked. Her voice sounded muffled. He shook his head weakly.

  “Of course we don’t. We’re the Confederate Marines. Beneath your people’s notice.” Nara snapped. “Can you help him? You healed yourself.”

  “Of course I can,” Ree snapped back. Love at first sight, right there. Ree pressed a hand against his armor, over the wound. “Hold still, you fool. She sliced an artery, I think.”

  Aran held very still. The familiar warm energy took the pain, and the exhaustion. A bead of sweat trickled down Ree’s cheek, and he noted the dark circles under her eyes. She was running close to the edge, which shouldn’t surprise him. He had no idea how many spells she’d used against the Krox before they showed up.