by Chris Fox
“Is Pirate Girl with you?” Ree called in a clear voice that echoed through the Spellship’s bay. It was one of many such bays, and the Talon took up only a small part of this one.
Aran stepped onto the ramp to give Nara room to follow. She joined him silently and they walked down to the base of the ramp, where Ree stood glaring.
“I have a name,” Nara growled when she got close, her expression murderous. She not so casually leaned on her staff, which had been empowered by Neith. Four fire rubies orbited the onyx tip, and they bathed the silver staff in potent energies. “What do you want, Ree? I’m not in the mood for your antics. Voria said you were here to clean the ship, not hassle true mages.”
Aran blinked at Nara. It wasn’t that she didn’t have cause to treat Ree that way, but normally Nara would be much less aggressive. What was going on with her? She’d been in a foul mood ever since they’d left Virkonna, and Aran had no idea why. One minute they’d been enjoying some very physical R&R, and the next she’d become colder than the void. Maybe he was just bad at it.
“You were in on it, weren’t you?” Ree demanded. Her eyes narrowed, and she took a threatening step closer to Nara. Nara didn’t back down a millimeter.
“If she was,” a sun-haired war mage called from behind Ree, “she won’t be leaving this bay alive.” The man’s aggressive stance was mirrored by the others, and he could tell they were working up their courage.
Aran needed to diffuse this, and quickly. Trouble was, backing down would only encourage Ree’s people to press the assault.
He took a deep breath and rested his hand very pointedly on Narlifex’s hilt. Was the weapon a little bigger than it had been the day before? Ree’s attention shifted to him, and the others quickly followed her gaze. “Ree, we’ve only just gotten back. It’s been a tough trip, and we’re exhausted. I get it. I’m a mongrel. She’s a pirate girl.” He paused and nodded at the closest war mage, whose hand was trying to throttle the hilt of his spellblade. “But if that kid steps any closer to Nara, you’re going to need every bit of your life magic to stitch him back together.” He stared her down hard, ready to follow up on his threat if needed. “I’m not the same wipe you trained, Ree. I’ve got my memories back, and have spoken with a goddess. Don’t push us. I’m asking nicely.”
Ree eyed him appraisingly for long moments. Her people began to shuffle nervously behind her, but still she said nothing. Finally, she licked her lips and spoke. “You’ve grown. So has the blade. Take a breath, Jayke. Let’s hear what Pirate Girl has to say in her defense.”
“It would help if I had any idea at all what the void you were talking about,” Nara snapped. Aran could feel the magic coiling within her, and prayed she wouldn’t do anything rash. “What is it you think I’m in on?” She had the same freckles and the same dark hair, but it just didn’t feel like Nara.
“Don’t pretend you don’t know.” Ree gave an exasperated sigh. “Your friend, Frit. She’s working with the binders. She freed a bunch of Ifrit, and we tried to stop them from escaping. A lot of my brothers died in that fight.” Ree folded her arms. “So, were you in on it? Where did she go? I’ve got a score to settle with that traitor.”
Nara’s entire demeanor shifted. Gone was the confidence and the derision. Instead Aran caught a glimpse of the compassion he’d come to expect. “Frit’s gone rogue?”
At the sight of Nara’s clear confusion, even Ree deflated, and her people began to relax. “You really don’t know where she is.”
“When did this happen?” Nara whispered. Her shock appeared total.
“Four days ago. They escaped into a Fissure and we haven’t seen them since.”
Aran removed his hand from Narlifex’s hilt. The blade pulsed disappointment. “You said she was working with binders. How did you know?”
“We never found direct evidence, just a warning augury about binder activity involving her. The flamereaders couldn’t give me more,” Ree admitted, “but Frit’s actions when we confronted her prove that she was the ringleader. She freed almost forty Ifrit, every last one a war mage or true mage. We interrogated the souls of those who died during the assault, and two mentioned going to meet Nebiat at the Heart.”
“That’s troubling.” Cold Nara was back. “And it doesn’t sound at all like Frit. If she did this, there had to be a reason.”
Ree’s eyes flashed with a spark of life, though only for an instant. “I’m not surprised you’re defending a traitor.”
Nara waved at the hangar around them, which still bore many dark stains. “Aren’t you supposed to be cleaning the walls, premaster? Not interrogating us about the botched op that you failed to complete. Seems about all you’re capable of, since you obviously weren’t able to stop ‘the traitor’.”
“Nara,” Aran snapped, which drew the attention of both women. “You aren’t helping.” He turned his attention to Ree. “She’s not wrong. Voria said you’d agreed to help us clean the Spellship. If that’s true, we’re grateful. Frit might have gone rogue, but we haven’t. We’ve just spent the last month up to our asses in Krox, and we’re lucky to be alive. Now we’re back, and finally getting ready to take the fight out to them. We’re going to need you, Ree. Same side, remember? You don’t have to like us, but you do need to work with us.”
Ree’s expression softened to thoughtful, as did a few of the others. Not the man who’d called for Nara’s head though. Jayke still glared at Nara, and Aran didn’t like the way his hand still choked the hilt of his spellblade.
“Let’s get to work.” Ree raised a hand into a clenched fist and the war mages began to spread out through the hangar. Each moved to a section covered in the sticky black blood, and they began using light bolts from their spellrifles to clear patches.
The work looked exhausting, even firing level one bolts. It was going to take weeks, or even months, unless Eros had a lot more life mages to lend them. This Blood of Nefarius was insidious. Slow, but always growing.
Narlifex thrummed in his scabbard, drawing Aran’s attention. He glanced around to see what the blade had noticed, and saw a figure step into the far side of the cargo bay. It was shrouded in darkness, and not the normal sort. It was the same ability he’d seen Rhea demonstrate when he first met her, and it cloaked the figure, preventing Aran from identifying it.
Most of that encounter had been a blur, but he remembered a roar from somewhere in the ship when he’d first arrived. Had this thing been hiding here the whole time? The ship was certainly big enough, and it might not be the only thing living in the shadows.
“Didn’t Rhea say there was something else living on this ship?” Nara asked, pointing.
“Yup,” Aran shot back. “Grab Crewes and the others. I have a feeling we’re going to want all the backup we can get.”
Nara nodded, then darted back up the ramp.
Aran rested his hand on Narlifex’s hilt and walked calmly across the hangar toward the patch of darkness. It was simply standing there, watching. It hadn’t made any hostile move as of yet, so he figured the best opening play was talking. Rhea had been willing to talk. Hopefully this thing was too.
“Premaster!” Jayke roared, pointing suddenly at the patch of darkness. He sprinted toward the figure, and as he ran both his armor and spellblade exploded into a clean brilliance, the very essence of life.
Some void-touched creatures were vulnerable to that type of magic, but if this thing was, it didn’t appear concerned. It stood there watching as Jayke charged. The man raised his spellblade in both hands, and leapt into the air above the shrouded figure.
A wickedly barbed axe appeared in the figure’s hand, and the shadow blurred forward, faster than Aran could track. Its weapon flicked out, knocking the spellblade from the war mage’s grasp. For one brief instant, Aran thought the shadow might let Jayke live, but then its hand shot out and wrapped around the war mage’s throat.
The shadow squeezed, and an awful crack echoed through the hangar. Jayke’s body crumpled to the deck,
drawing the horrified attention of every surviving war mage. They all saw their friend fall, and rushed the shadow en masse.
“Ree, wait!” Aran began. It was too late. She led the charge, and that left Aran little choice but to support her. Otherwise, there was a good chance this thing would kill every one of her people.
He sprinted after her, and channeled a bit of fire to increase his strength. He bounded toward the shadow, studying its forms as it flowed from war mage to war mage. A second spellaxe appeared in its free hand, and it began carving a path through its enemies.
Four died in its first pass, each crumpling into a grisly mess after the axes carved through spellarmor like tissue paper. The second wave was further behind, and Aran leaned into his run to narrow the gap. It wasn’t going to be enough. He needed to get this thing to come to him, before it cut down more mages.
Rhea had claimed they were Outriders once, and that they’d fallen to this darkness trying to protect their own. Maybe he could reach that part of this creature.
“Outrider!” he bellowed. The shadow turned instantly in his direction. “Face me.”
The shadow hesitated for only a moment, then blurred toward him, its axes cradled loosely in its hands. Aran wished he had his spellarmor, in this case specifically for the spellshield. Narlifex was too slender to parry those axes, so he’d have to rely on dodging.
I. Grow. Narlifex’s voice echoed through his mind. The sword, which had begun as a simple officer’s saber, had grown and changed before. It had gotten longer, and the blade had darkened. That change had happened at a Catalyst, though, and he hadn’t realized it could occur elsewhere.
Narlifex’s blade lengthened another few millimeters and curved slightly, fattening at the end to more closely resemble a falchion than a saber. Aran had a brief moment to adjust his stance to compensate for the larger weapon, and then the shadow was on him.
An axe hummed toward his neck, and Aran gripped Narlifex in both hands to parry. His blade rang like a gong, and he was flung backward. He tumbled across the deck, just barely rolling to his feet before the shadow was on him again. Aran dodged a wicked slash, then dropped under another.
There was no way he was going on the defensive.
Aran rushed forward, and aimed a wide slash at the shadow’s gut. It hopped backward, and Aran did the same to open a small gap between them. He hurled his spellblade with one hand, and used the other to fling a river of ice at the ground near the creature’s feet.
The shadow wobbled, not falling, but also not steady enough to launch a counterattack. Aran was about to follow up when Ree and a trio of her mages swept in on the right. The layer of shadow around the figure diminished under the intensity of their collective brilliance, enough that Aran had his first look at the man.
Sharp eyes glittered in a handsome face framed by long, dark hair. It wasn’t unlike many of the men Aran had seen back on Virkonna. The view lasted only an instant, and then a wave of darkness exploded outward, obscuring his features once more.
When it dissipated, the man was gone. In his place stood a massive Wyrm, which towered not only over Aran, but over the Talon. Its hellish purple eyes swept over them, saliva hissing to the deck as it sought its next target.
2
Sand on a Beach
Nara sketched a trio of void sigils as she mentally envisioned her destination. She popped out of existence, and appeared in the Talon’s mess.
Crewes lounged on a hovercouch, and still wore his spellarmor. He rarely took it off, thankfully. Bord and Kezia sat playing a game of Kem’Hedj, which they’d been playing a lot of since Virkonna. They’d also spent pretty much every moment together.
“We’ve got a threat in the hangar. Aran needs all of you. Now.” Even she knew the edge to her voice was uncharacteristic, and that terrified her. What was happening to her? She longed for a moment to decompress and confront this, but there simply wasn’t time.
“You heard the lady.” Crewes rose from the couch and retrieved his spellcannon from the floor next to it. “Bord, Kez, get down to the hangar and get suited up. We deploy in thirty. Nara, see if you can keep the LT out of trouble til we get topside.”
Something hot flared in her gut and she almost chewed Crewes out for ordering a true mage about before she caught herself. After a moment she nodded. “Yeah, good plan. See you out there.”
She turned from Crewes and hoped he didn’t see the tears. The weight of this was just too much. Dealing with gods and wars she could handle, but her mind being eroded like sand on a beach…it brought her back to those first terrifying moments when she’d awakened from the mind-wipe.
They’d taken everything once, and she couldn’t bear to lose it again.
Thankfully, she had a wonderful distraction. Combat. She blinked back outside, and focused on the battle. It wasn’t shaping up in their favor, from what she could see. Ree’s war mages had apparently assaulted the…was that a Wyrm? Bits of golden armor lay strewn about the hangar bay, sometimes accompanied by the grisly remains of the war mages that the dragon was absolutely savaging.
Aran had its attention currently, and stood his ground before it. The dragon’s tail lashed about, quick as a serpent, but he flipped over it and delivered a wicked slash with his spellblade. The curved blade sliced deep into the scaly flesh, and sent up a spray of black blood.
The resulting roar shook the entire hangar, and Nara gritted her teeth as she waited for the pain to pass. The Wyrm’s wings flared out to either side, and it brought them down in a sudden sweep. An intense gust of wind knocked everyone back, including Aran. The defenders went tumbling across the hangar floor, desperately trying to cling to their weapons.
Aran was the first to his feet, and leapt into the air to hover near her. Blood dripped from his nose, and it looked like a blood vessel had popped in one of his eyes. “I don’t recommend hanging out at ground zero for that roar. Crewes on his way?”
“Bord and Kez are getting suited up.” She kept her attention on the dragon, which snapped up a war mage in its jaws. It shook the mage violently, then flung him into the Talon’s hull with a horrific crack. She winced. “How do you want to deal with this thing?”
“Do you have a spell strong enough to immobilize it? Like a paralyze?” he asked. His attention had also shifted back to the dragon. She studied him sidelong, wishing she had the courage to tell him what was going on in her head. Focus.
“Possibly. If you can distract it, I’ll see what I can do.” She didn’t know if her magic were strong enough to stop it, but it wasn’t as if they had a lot of other options. They couldn’t wait for Voria.
Aran nodded and zipped back into the combat. His magic captured a lot of the same advantages wearing a suit of spellarmor would have afforded, but while he could fly, he was far, far more fragile than someone in spellarmor. That terrified her every time he fought without it.
Nara closed her eyes for a moment, and tapped into the increased cognitive ability Neith had imparted. New memories were returning, but she wasn’t able to access them consciously yet. They were fragments, and therefore not useful.
In reaching, she saw something. A complex weave of sigils, embedded in her mind somehow. That must be the spell that was returning the memories. As she studied it, a pulse radiated outward from the knot of sigils, and something tingled in her brain like a long-dead limb suddenly reawakening.
For a moment she was elsewhere.
Nara stared through the scope of a spellrifle, settling the crosshairs over a man stepping out of a hovercar. She exhaled, then cast her spell. A muted-purple ball lanced down to his position, and disappeared instantly inside the back of his head. The target jerked and clutched at the back of his head, but only for a moment. Then he relaxed. None of his guards noticed the curse, and the man continued on his way.
Nara opened her eyes, and the vertigo began to recede. The spell seemed to be showing her memories that were pertinent to the current situation, so perhaps the rifle could be useful somehow
.
When she’d first been taken by Voria, she’d relied almost exclusively on her spellpistol, which Aran had said she’d been really good with. She’d been terrible at the spellrifle when they’d practiced.
Nara snatched the rarely used spellrifle from her void pocket and raised the stock to her shoulder. The weapon was too short and too bulky. It didn’t feel right. She wanted a violin, but felt like someone had handed her a stick.
She sighted down the barrel, and considered the spell she might cast for a split second. Her target was a Void Wyrm, which meant it should be vulnerable to life. But the life mages weren’t exactly kicking its ass. That suggested it had a certain amount of innate magic resistance, as most Wyrms did.
She couldn’t take down the Wyrm, but what if she focused on those defenses instead? Maybe she could weaken them, and make it more vulnerable to life.
Nara grinned suddenly. She had just the thing. For an instant, she felt better than she had in days. The rifle kicked as it tore loose a large chunk of spirit, and an even larger chunk of water. The grey-blue bolt streaked into the Wyrm’s open mouth, where it promptly expanded into a massive amount of discolored sludge. The Wyrm coughed, trying desperately to expel the liquid.
“What did you do?” Aran yelled as he darted in and delivered a gash on the Wyrm’s flank.
Nara zipped a little closer to him. “That should lower its magical defenses for a bit. Now is the time to hit it with everything you’ve got.”
“I thought you was never gonna ask,” Crewes boomed as he rose into the air on a plume of fire from his armor’s thruster. Bord and Kezia sprinted underneath as they charged into combat. “Hang in there, LT. Help is on the frigging way.” Crewes aimed his spellcannon at the Wyrm, and adopted a look of concentration. The barrel of his cannon began to glow—the standard orange-white heat of magma, but underlying it was something blue.
