by Chris Fox
Aran waited until Crewes had departed the silence field to face Nara. He took a step closer to her cell, and sized her up. She wore a form-fitting dark-grey suit of unfamiliar mesh-layered material. Some sort of stealth tech, Aran guessed. Her dark hair had been bound into a simple ponytail, and her face had gone pale enough to highlight the sea of freckles. She looked scared.
Aran considered his anger. He remembered the sleepless nights, and the questions. It all boiled down to just one word. A word he carefully stripped of emotion. “Why?”
A single tear slid down Nara’s cheek. He felt nothing. No satisfaction, no sarcastic ‘oh, here it comes’. He felt nothing. It had all gone to ashes.
“His name is Talifax,” Nara began. She glanced at Frit, then back to Aran. “I haven’t ever said his name aloud, until now. He first appeared to me the night we left Virkon, right after we…”
“I remember,” Aran prompted. “Who is this Talifax?” The name was maddeningly familiar, but his mind slid off the word, around it somehow, unable to hold onto it for long.
“Forgive me for speaking out of turn, but Talifax is the Guardian of Nefarius,” Kaho supplied. All eyes shifted to the Krox, who gave Aran a respectful bow. His tone conveyed respect, but also fear. “Talifax is known in our histories. He is called the great manipulator, the herald for the darkest god to ever war upon this sector. My great-grandfather, Krox himself, was terrified of Nefarius, and wary of Talifax. A greater god knew fear at the mere mention of the name.”
“And this guy showed up while I was sleeping next to you?” Aran demanded of Nara. “Why didn’t you wake me?”
Another tear slid loose, and Nara looked away. If she was faking she was even better at this than he expected. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “He gave me my memories back.”
A chill worked its way through him, and Aran lowered his arms to his sides. He took a reflexive step back from the cell, his subconscious throwing up emotional walls as he recognized the Nara of old. “That explains a lot. I’ll have more questions when time permits, but right now I’ve got a crisis to tend to. You’re going to have to sit tight until we sort it out.”
“What’s going on?” Nara whispered. She wouldn’t meet his gaze, and instead moved to sit on the cell’s bench.
“You must have felt it.” Aran took a step toward the silence field, but paused to face Nara before leaving. Did she really not know? Her expression showed genuine confusion. If she were really working with the Krox, her confusion didn’t make sense.
“I felt something,” Frit whispered. The rage had burned out of her, transforming her into the timid Ifrit he’d first met, even if just for a moment. “Something terrible.”
“You’re gods-damned right it was terrible. That god you love so much? Those people of yours that you’re angry we killed? Well guess what? Krox leveled Ternus.” Aran could feel the heat rising in him, and faint fire magic suffused his entire body. The rage was a living thing. “Your god showed up and dick-punched a whole planet. Millions dead. Hundreds of millions more are going to die. Maybe billions if the Ternus scientists can’t find a way to save them.”
Frit’s eyes widened in horror, and even Kaho seemed taken aback.
“Krox is here?” Nara pulled her knees to her chest, and huddled against the wall.
“Not anymore.” Aran shook his head. “He, or it, used magic on a scale we’ve never seen, something involving a massive amount of earth. Then he left, and we have no idea where he went. There was no Fissure. He isn’t using the Umbral Depths to travel.”
Kaho blinked rapidly. “Not using the Depths? How is he traveling then?”
“You tell me.” Aran moved to stand in front of the Krox’s cell. The anger was still there, smoldering, but so was the realization that his prisoners probably didn’t know anything more than he did. About this, at least.
“I don’t know.” Kaho dropped his gaze to the floor of his cell. “I’ve never heard of such a magic.”
“Great,” Aran sighed, and turned his attention back to Nara. He forced his voice into an emotionless tone. “I’ll come back when I can spare the time and we can have a nice, long chat. You’ve got that long to get your stories straight. I’d encourage you to remember that if you lie to me, it won’t matter. Voria will get at the truth. I promise you that.”
Nara’s eyes shone, but she gave him a crisp nod. Aran turned and departed.
8
Unexpected Guests
Voria had been on her feet for nineteen hours by the time she wandered back to her quarters. She’d tended to the worst of the emergencies, and gotten another crop of refugees settled. Too many people no longer found Shaya safe, ritual of restoration or no. She couldn’t blame them.
Thankfully, Pickus had risen to the occasion, and masterfully handled a bewildering array of logistical concerns. That meant she could finally sleep, and she sighed contentedly as she slid across the carpet, her eyes fixed on the floating bed on the far side of the room.
“Umm, Voria?” came a male voice from the shadowed corner of the room.
For a tiny moment she thought it was Ikadra, as he was the only one in her quarters capable of speaking, but the staff hovered next to her. And besides, the voice had an accent. An Inuran accent.
Voria’s hand shot up, and she sketched a level three binding, then flung it at the shadowed corner. The spell flew unerringly toward its target, but simply ceased to exist, dissolving into thousands of tiny mana fragments.
The figure stepped from the shadows, and she sucked in a breath when she recognized Kazon’s bearded face.
Behind her brother stood a…haze. Her eyes slid off its features, and she could sense, well nothing from it. The absence of magic scared her more than anything she could have detected.
Kazon wasn’t capable of counterspelling, and that meant that whatever this thing was had casually batted a powerful spell aside. She only hoped they came in peace.
“What are you doing here, little brother?” Voria’s attention was fixed on the hazy figure. She picked up Ikadra, and held him defensively before her.
“I’m terribly sorry, but Inura insisted…”
“Inura?” Voria blinked. “You’ve brought a god into my quarters?”
“Holy shit,” Ikadra said, sapphire pulsing. “I thought I recognized the obfuscation spell.”
“I brought myself,” a cultured Inuran voice replied from the shadows. Those shadows finally fell away, and illuminated a largely human face, with a few disquieting differences. His eyes were slitted, like the Wyrms on Virkon, and his fingers were a little too long for a human. “I apologize for startling you, but you no doubt understand my need for caution.”
Voria froze. How did one banter with a god? Where Neith felt like a being of immense power, this god was much more like any other mage, or Wyrm, she might meet. But she couldn’t afford to forget that Inura would be so much more than he appeared.
“No doubt.” Voria gave an understanding nod. “You’re here now, so presumably something has changed. Have you come to teach us to use the Spellship? Goddess, I hope so, because otherwise we’ve no way of dealing with a god of Krox’s strength.”
She struggled to contain the hope, but some of it clearly leaked into her tone, and she hated the sympathetic light in Inura’s draconic eyes. “Limited help, yes. I have many other tasks to attend to, but I can help you prepare for Krox’s arrival. I have seen the possibility of your victory. It is remote, but distinct. I will lend you what aid I can, but I will not risk exposing myself in battle. Not against Krox. Not while I know there is a greater threat out there.”
Voria bit back her anger, knowing the words would accomplish little. It wasn’t easy. “So what is it you are prepared to offer then? How can you help us defend ourselves?”
“If you are to fight a god,” Inura’s wings flared behind him, “then you will need a god to oppose him. I cannot stop Krox, but you can.”
“What are you saying?” Voria knew she was tired, but she
simply wasn’t tracking.
“I’m saying that we must elevate you.” Inura gestured at Ikadra. “Ikadra is my finest creation and—”
“Did you hear that?” Ikadra broke in. “You all heard it right? Finest creation.”
Inura gave the faintest of sighs, and continued as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “—is the catalyst, and with the proper rituals and infusion of magic, you can ascend to godhood. Voria, I’m asking you to fill the same role I once asked Shaya to fill.”
Voria went numb. She pictured another, very similar woman, in similar circumstances. Had that been the way of it? Had Shaya really been a mortal tasked with defending her people? Voria had assumed the lady of light from her dreams must be Shaya, but if Inura was to be believed…then it was her.
Inura nodded, as if he’d heard her thoughts. “That was the way of it. She was a warrior, and a healer, and a leader. She led the Vagrant Fleet for three decades before I called upon her. Her people needed her, and so we constructed the Spellship to serve as both her vessel and her Catalyst.”
“I’m standing right here, dad.” Ikadra’s sapphire pulsed. “Not even a hello, or an acknowledgement? I should totally write a book.”
“You’ve grown, Ikadra, and not necessarily for the better.” Inura frowned at the staff, and Voria was left with the distinct impression that he regretted his creation. “I intended you to be a tool, not comic relief. I am tempted to reset your personality to before you met Shaya.”
“That would be a mistake,” Voria found herself saying. She cleared her throat, and continued. “Ikadra can be juvenile, it’s true. But he has proven immensely resourceful, and his rather, ah, unique world view has allowed me to view possibilities that would otherwise have remained hidden.”
Inura cocked his head, and eyed the staff critically. “Very well, I will leave the personality matrix intact, against my better judgement.” He turned back to Voria. “Kazon and I have business elsewhere, but I will leave you with everything you need.”
Before Voria could protest or Kazon could offer a goodbye, the god raised a hand, and a wave of light assaulted Voria’s senses. Memories and power, almost indistinguishable, rushed into her mind in a torrent of inexplicable strength. The light overwhelmed her senses, and when it finally cleared there was no sign of her brother, or the wayward god.
She felt no different, except more exhausted.
“Well that was an odd end to a long day.” She stumbled to the bed, and sat heavily, then tugged off her boots. A flash shot through her mind like a bolt of lightning, and she saw the Spellship in orbit over Shaya, magic streaming up to it from the world below. It lasted only an instant, and then was gone.
What good was godsight if she couldn’t control or understand it?
Patience. Inura’s voice echoed in her mind. In time you will understand.
Weariness crashed over Voria, and she collapsed into bed, asleep before her cheek touched the soft satin.
9
Godspeed
Aran waved his hand as he stepped through the golden doorway into his quarters. A shimmering pane of opaque blue energy cascaded down to fill the doorway, and afforded him privacy. It was the first he’d had since before the ‘interview’ they’d had scheduled on Ternus.
He knew he’d accumulated a lot of emotional debt, not just the crisis on Ternus, but also the revelation that Nara was less than a dozen meters away. With her Krox allies.
Emotions were such bullshit.
Aran moved to the scry-screen, and tapped a fire sigil, then a dream. He waited for the missive to connect, praying desperately that she would answer.
Voria’s weary face filled the screen, stress lines creasing each eye and a single lock of errant hair having escaped from her bun. She stifled a yawn, then stretched luxuriously. “Good morning, Captain. Your timing is excellent. I’ve just encountered something vanishingly rare in the sector, a good night’s sleep.”
Aran sat down on his bed, which sagged lower in the air, then righted itself. “I plan to get one of those myself as soon as we’re done talking. We’ve got a lot to catch up on.”
“Indeed. I felt…something a few days ago, and suspect you can tell me more of the cause. In either case I have news. Why don’t you start.” Voria rose, and moved to her nightstand, where she faced the mirror and stuffed the errant lock back into her bun.
“The highlights?” Aran rubbed his temples, and considered the most important parts. “Krox assaulted the Ternus home world. Their planet is doomed, and it’s likely to be a slow death. Krox saw to that. They are in dire need of a divine miracle, or at least some magic well beyond anything I’ve seen or heard of.”
“The strength of the magic was…unparalleled, at least in my experience.” Voria paled, but her resolve didn’t waver. “Even all the way out here I felt the strength of it. Whatever Krox did rippled through every possibility. But what can be done can be undone.”
Aran nodded, and rose. “It was a power play, the sort of thing Nebiat would approve of, I think. They want us scared and on the run, and they’re doing a damned good job of it so far.”
“A fair point. They have ensured I can do nothing to aid Ternus, for the time being at least.” Voria heaved a sigh and finally turned back to the scry-screen, now looking as pristine as ever. “Krox is coming for Shaya, and this time he will not stop at the pool. This world, and everyone on it, are doomed unless we can stop them.”
Aran hoped he didn’t sound as desperate as he felt just then. “So…how do we do that?”
“We have allies, of a sort.” Voria looked over her shoulder, then back. “I can’t say more, but there is a plan in place. One I will tell you more about in person.”
“That meeting might be a little ways off.” Aran folded his arms. “Governor Austin requested an escort to Yanthara. For a meeting with the Inurans to purchase a new fleet. He’s quite insistent.”
Voria’s eyes narrowed. “Blast it. They’re purchasing corrupted ships, and there isn’t a damned thing we can do about it. We can’t ask you to sabotage negotiations; they need the ships too badly. But if you go, at least you could monitor the situation.”
“That seems like a really flimsy reason to fly to Yanthara,” Aran ventured. “We could do a lot more good tracking down some sort of super weapon, or even visiting our…friend in the Umbral Depths.”
“Good uses of time, but there’s another reason to go to Yanthara.” Voria frowned, her eye twitching in what Aran took for irritation. “Eros did something ‘clever’ near the end. He secreted Rhea to Yanthara, at the Temple of Shi, where she couldn’t be found by Krox or his agents. He seemed quite concerned that they might come for her, and that she has some grand role to play before the end. As far I know, the girl is still being kept in a magical coma, because they have no idea what to expect when she wakes.”
Something eased in Aran’s shoulders. He sat on the bed and tugged off one of his boots. “That’s a bit of good news. At least it will keep Kheross off my back. He’s desperate to get to his daughter, and make some sort of amends.”
“Or to convince her to become a weapon against us.” Voria became ‘the major’ again. “Never lower your guard, Aran. I’d have thought Nara taught you that.”
“Speaking of.” He heaved a sigh of his own. “She’s aboard, in the brig. Along with Frit, and Nebiat’s son…the true mage.”
“Kahotep?” Voria blinked. “That’s an unexpected windfall. Have you interrogated them yet?”
He shook his head, and reached carefully for his next words. He relaxed, and told Voria the unvarnished truth. “I’m not ready. I need to be in a good place when I deal with Nara. She’s got her memories back, and believe me when I tell you that the woman those memories belong to terrifies me. You back that woman up with all the power we’ve accumulated? Part of me thinks we should end her, before she somehow escapes. She’ll be unstoppable, especially working with Frit and Kaho.”
“That part of you is pragmatic. What about the r
est of you? What do you think you should do?” Her tone gave no hint as to what the right answer might be. “You don’t answer to any government any more, so no one can really stop you from meting out whatever justice you’d like.”
Aran exhaled a long, slow breath, and he truly thought about it. “I think we should hear them out, separately. We should learn everything we can, and compare their stories. Since those stories are rehearsed, we should assume most of what they tell us can’t be trusted. That said, I’ve already learned one thing I was hoping you might be able to shed some light on.”
“Oh?” Voria’s eyebrow rose.
“Kaho seemed to recognize a name Nara used. She claimed she was manipulated by someone called Talifax.”
The blood drained from Voria’s face. “I see.”
“I take it you recognize this guy?”
“I recognize legends, yes. The Guardian of Nefarius, who is only said to appear at times of great change. Before wars that annihilate entire sectors, and kill gods.”
“This guy sounds great.” Aran sat on the bed again. “I guess it’s at least a little reassuring that you recognize him. I have no idea if Nara is on the up and up, but at least she wasn’t outright lying.”
“Take care with her, Aran. Your feelings are a luxury you cannot afford.”
Aran barked a short laugh. “I’ve got Crewes to make sure I don’t do anything stupid. Do you have anything you want me to pass to the crew?”
She hesitated, and her mouth worked as if she was going to say something. Nothing came out, and Aran instantly recognized the kind of magical manipulation Neith had forced on them. Voria was trying to speak about something she wasn’t allowed to. She smiled suddenly. “Only my good wishes. We’ll save the rest for when we meet in person. Just know that we are not without allies.
“So tell me about this temple.” He tugged off his other boot, and set it next to the first.
