by Chris Fox
Nothing could.
She accepted that, even as she spun out possibilities. In all of them the spell ended her life. Millions became billions, but there was simply no possibility of survival. No hope, no hope at all.
She let the possibilities play out. She died, and Nara completed the ritual. A god rose that the people assumed was her, a goddess they believed in. That power let this new goddess, Nara, challenge Krox.
In some possibilities Krox won, and Shaya was extinguished. The planet scoured away. The great spear, Worldender, pulled from the dead world. A tide of Ifrit surged from the massive star, and swarmed over the planet, burning everything they touched. The Talon and the black ships fought back, and in some possibilities they won. In others, they were overwhelmed and destroyed.
The greatest number of possibilities showed Krox emerging victorious, but in a few Nara drove him from the system. From there Voria’s vision was…blocked. Someone or something had carefully obscured vast swathes of the multiverse. Talifax perhaps, or his mistress, Nefarius.
As the void bolt took her in the breast Voria’s last thought was that no matter who won, her people had lost. Curiously there was no pain as her body unraveled, only a sense of relief.
She’d done her duty, and now she could finally rest.
42
The Beginning
Nara stared down at Voria’s still cooling corpse, and wept.
The major had been, in many ways, a mentor. Nara had always been desperate for her approval, and though grudgingly, Voria had given it. And this was how Nara had repaid her. She prayed desperately that her theory was correct.
“You MONSTER!” Ikadra’s sapphire pulsed a deep, angry blue. “You killed her. I wanted to believe in you, and I told her you could be redeemed. And you killed her! Why? What could you possibly gain? You doomed us all. Unless…you’re going to try to steal her power, aren’t you? This is all some sort of con job designed to elevate you to godhood. And to think I actually thought you were hot.”
The tears continued to flow, and Nara didn’t fight them, but she did get to work. “Shut up, Ikadra.” She picked up the staff, which was warm to the touch. With Voria dead the staff no longer had a master, which disabled his magical defenses. That was a good thing as Nara was fairly certain Ikadra would happily kill her right now, given the choice.
“Listen very carefully,” she began, bending to inspect the staff. “you’re a critical component in the ritual of investiture, right?”
“Right,” Ikadra replied cautiously. The anger was still there, but at least the staff was listening.
“You’re designed to channel the soul, right? So if you’re elevating someone you must somehow store that soul, and then focus all the magic into it?”
“I guess. I mean that’s what happened with Shaya. Why?” Ikadra pulsed suspiciously.
“Because I want you to pick up Voria’s soul, and I want you to hold it.” Nara placed Ikadra’s sapphire against Voria’s forehead.
“Uh, I can do that.” Ikadra’s pulsing grew more rapid and a note of excitement entered his voice. “Wait, you’re still going to perform the ritual, aren’t you?”
“Yup. Now get to work.” Nara glanced over her shoulder, but there was no one there, of course. If Talifax was aware of what she intended, she was almost positive he’d be here crushing her spine, or something equally grisly. Either he didn’t know, or couldn’t do anything about it. She’d killed Voria, as he expected, and theoretically he still believed she was going to follow through with his plan for her.
“So, wait. I don’t get it. Why did you kill her? That seems like a really messed up prank.” A golden glow built around Ikadra’s tip, and something ethereal rose from Voria, a golden mist that began flowing into Ikadra’s sapphire at an incredible rate. It went on for some time. “She’s going to be pissed.”
“Because if I hadn’t, then Talifax would have destroyed me long before I got to the Spellship, and he would have found another way to kill Voria,” Nara explained while she waited for the soul transference to complete. “He was so certain that I’d murder her, and he believed that I’d go through with his plan to become a goddess in her place. At first I thought he’d bound me and that’s why he was so sure, but the more I thought about it the more I realized the truth. He didn’t think he needed to bind me, because he saw me killing her of my own volition.”
“Binding you wouldn’t have worked anyway,” Ikadra said. “If you were bound, the Spellship’s security would have gone nuts as soon as you came aboard.”
“Then he definitely thought I’d do it on my own, and he was right.” Nara rose from Voria’s body, and tried not to look at her sightless eyes. She cradled Ikadra to her chest and made swiftly for the door. “I think Talifax is either afraid of, or unable to, board this ship. I don’t think he can see what happens here, either. He needed a tool to kill Voria, one that he could convince to do it without needing to bind them. That’s also why he needed Kheross to free me. Because he couldn’t or wouldn’t do it himself.”
It all made sense now. Nara hurried from Voria’s quarters, and began to sketch as she walked. She cast an invisibility spell, and made the radius as small as she could while still covering herself. Then she trotted as fast as she could through the ship, snaking her way closer to the coliseum where the ritual was going to take place.
“What are you going to do now?”
“Now I’m going to pray that I’m right about this ritual. If so, we’re going to go through with it just like we planned, and we’re going to get Voria up and ready to save this world.”
43
This Will Never Work
Pickus was about as nervous as a freighter down to one bad O2 scrubber, and he had every right to be. The coliseum was absolutely packed with people ready to help Voria ascend. Their enthusiasm was infectious, and smiles and laughter were everywhere. You’d hardly guess a god was coming to snuff them all out.
Thanks to Ducius and his Caretakers they’d managed to convince the people that Voria would save them, but only if they did their part. They were ready to do exactly that, but unfortunately, there was still one major piece missing. Voria herself.
Pickus paced across the stage, and watched the door to the little room he knew she’d appear through, the same one where she’d met with Captain Aran the evening before. She should have been here nearly an hour ago, and the only thing Pickus could think was that maybe she was recovering from the magic Drakkon had given her.
He was about to send a runner when he remembered there were other options. Pickus fished his scry-pad out of his pocket and fed it a bit of fire, then selected Voria from his contact lists. The device generated a missive, which was basically a magical version of a comm call, so far as he could tell.
Several moments went by, and then the missive died. “Odd. There’s no reason it shouldn’t connect, unless…” Unless the person on the other end was either magically shielded, or dead. Both had catastrophic implications.
Pickus hurried across the stage to where Ducius stood chatting quietly with a few of his more loyal supporters. He nodded his greetings. “Caretakers. Pardon me, Tender, but I’m going to see if I can go find Voria. Would you mind watching over things until I return?”
“Of course, Administrator.” Ducius clasped his hands before him and performed a standing bow. Pickus was still getting used to not being treated like engine grime, but thus far he was kinda liking it. “I’ll keep them occupied, but I’d agree that getting her here sooner rather than later would be a good thing. We do not want their mood to ebb.”
Pickus pivoted and hurried through the door into the antechamber. No sign of Voria. He headed to the door on the room’s far side, which dissolved at his approach. He stepped through and was about to turn right when a warm, reptilian hand clamped down over his mouth. Pickus was hoisted into the air, and found himself face to face with a gorgeous woman…made completely of fire and rock.
“Hi there,” the flaming girl sai
d, as sweet as pie, “Kaho is going to release your mouth, and you’re not going to scream, right?”
He nodded, and the hand came away. “Oh, crap, you’re that Ifrit girl, right? And the guy behind me, he’s one of those enforcer things? Ya’ll don’t eat people, do you?”
“Hello, Pickus.” Nara winked into existence next to the Ifrit. She wore form-fitting armor that looked like it might have been produced on Ternus. He was almost as interested in the armor as he was the curves underneath.
Then Pickus went cold. Nara was holding Ikadra. “Oh, Nara, tell me you didn’t do what I think you did. Please, tell me I’m wrong. I didn’t want to believe what they said, but…you’ve really gone over haven’t you? Or were you evil the whole time and just suckering me in? Man, I can’t believe I fell for it. Well I can, but it’s still shitty of you.”
“Listen very carefully, Pickus.” Nara leaned in closer, and fixed him with those pretty eyes. “Voria is dead.”
“Oh my—”. The scaly hand settled over his mouth again.
“Just listen,” Nara said, continuing. “Her soul resides in Ikadra, and is ready to ascend, just like you planned. You can still do this, and she can still fight Krox.”
Pickus thrashed in the dragon-thing’s grip, and eventually it uncovered his mouth. “How? This thing only works if the people believe. I can’t show them Ikadra and say empower this stupid staff—no offense. For us to complete the ritual Voria needs to be standing there. She needs to tell these people why their faith is well placed, and then, if we’re lucky, they’ll give her enough juice to do her god thing. So unless you’ve got—”
Nara’s hand rose and she began sketching sigils. The first was a purple squiggle, quickly followed by a blue symbol kind of like a harp, and then another squiggle. The sigils fused, and the spell completed. Magical energy rippled over Nara, obscuring her features for a moment. When they passed Nara was gone, and Voria stood in her place, right down to the mustard stain on the sleeve of her confederate jacket.
“Okay, well, I guess maybe that will work,” Pickus allowed, more than a little surprised that she’d so easily addressed the problem. “I mean, you’ve still got to give them a rousing speech. Do you think you can manage that?”
Fake-Voria gave a somber nod, and her eyes shone with unshed tears. “I can manage it.” The words were given in a near perfect imitation of Voria’s voice. The people who knew her best might notice something off, but everyone else should buy it.
“Nara.” Pickus’s voice cracked, but he didn’t even care. “You didn’t answer my question. I just don’t get it. Why did you leave? And why all this? Just tell me there’s a reason, and that you ain’t…what they say you are. Tell me this Krox ain’t what he looks like, neither.”
Pickus didn’t know what she could say that would make this okay, but looking at her, especially wearing the major’s face…it was just too much to bear. He looked away, staring instead at the fire-girl.
“I don’t have all the answers, Pickus, any more than we’ve got the time,” Fake-Voria finally replied. She straightened, adopting Voria’s imperious posture, almost perfectly. “For now we have a mission, and we’re going to carry it out. Carry on, Pickus.” She waved Ikadra at the doorway.
Pickus still had serious reservations, but at least the Krox set him down. He stared up at the lizard, who looked down at him with slitted, reptilian eyes. Somehow, though, the heat coming from Frit was more menacing. He glanced at her and she was smiling at him, but something in her eyes said that if he screwed this up she would space him.
He hurried through the doorway, and paused just on the other side to assess the situation. Ducius was just finishing a hymn, which the entire crowd, fifty-thousand strong, had sung in time. He didn’t recognize the song, probably a Shayan anthem or some such. Even the drifters seemed to like it. Seemed to mention trees and sacrifice a lot.
“Ma would have some choice words for me right about now.” Pickus forced himself forward, and was quite proud that he didn’t wet himself. Voria had called this the greatest con of all time, and now, it really was. He hurried over to Ducius, “Uh, we’re about ready. I’m going to bring her out. Can you get them ready?”
“They are prepared. I will introduce her.” Ducius gave Pickus a warm smile. “You’ve done much to engineer this moment, Administrator. I see now that she was right about you.”
Pickus gave him a sickly smile, then waved a little as he backed awkwardly away. Ole Tex, let this work. He hurried back to the door and looked at Nara, “Okay, we’re on. Ducius is going to introduce you. When he does, well, you gotta say some stuff to get them fired up, and then Ducius and his Caretakers will kick off the ritual.”
Nara nodded, and stepped through the doorway.
There was no way this was going to work, Pickus was certain of it. Not like they had a lot of choice, though.
Ducius roared to the crowd, “I give you…Lady Voria, the savior of our world, and heir to Shaya herself.” The Tender stepped gracefully out of her way, and moved to a large ritual circle, where his Caretakers were already arrayed.
Pickus could only watch, and hope, that Nara could pull this off.
‘Voria’ walked to the edge of the stage, Ikadra punctuating each step as his heavy end thudded against the bronze. She paused, then spoke in a high, clear voice, “I am humbled by the gathering I see before me. Drifters. Shayans. Ternus Marines. We’ve come together to accomplish something that none of us would be able to do alone. We seek to create a deity, so that we can oppose Krox.”
She paused for dramatic effect, and did it masterfully. The crowd held their collective breath.
“I will ride forth on your behalf, and I will meet Krox in battle. I will triumph, and do you know why?” She held up a hand to her ear, and Pickus noted the sharp glance from Ducius. This kind of grandstanding was out of character for her.
The crowd called out a loose chorus of why’s, and only then did Voria answer. “Because Krox is alone. Even his own children are deserting him. Even the Wyrms we have battled for so long will not stand with their creator. They recognize his evil. He is alone, and we are many. We will triumph.”
Explosive applause echoed through the room, wave after wave crashing over Pickus. It went on for many moments until Ducius finally raised his hands, and spoke. “The ritual begins. Believe, my brethren. Believe in the power of your goddess, and she will be strong enough to save us all.”
He returned to the ritual circle, where the Caretakers had already begun sketching sigils. Ducius took his place among them, and added a steady flow of white and blue squiggles to the spell. The crowd was utterly silent as they worked, and a few minutes later the spell reached a crescendo.
The sigils fused together, and a beam of pure white shot into Ikadra’s sapphire. A soft, white glow rose from the audience, a tiny wisp arising from each person. They drifted toward the light in a growing wave of power.
Then, just as suddenly as the spell had begun, it sputtered and died. The light above the crowd winked out, and the glow around Ikadra faded.
The ritual had failed.
A few screams began in the audience, and Pickus glanced out to see what had caused the disturbance. People were pointing up at the dome overhead.
A second star had appeared in the sky over Shaya. Krox had arrived.
44
Krox Rises
Nebiat awakened once again, the last strands of torpor falling away to be replaced by awareness of infinite possibilities stretching into the distance. She spent long minutes analyzing billions of outcomes, and was relieved to see that nothing significant had changed.
Nothing that you can detect, Krox rumbled. You must remember that many gods are adept at hiding possibilities until the moment of their fruition. If you are unaware of the parameters surrounding their desired outcome, then it can lead to the same hubris I’ve exhibited each time I’ve lost a confrontation.
Either the deity’s anger had faded or he’d suppressed it. Nebiat di
dn’t care which. She twisted in the void over her new capital world, a world Krox had never bothered to name, and looked down at her children. While she’d slept they’d begun to organize. Groups had formed. A few had even begun practicing spells.
She considered the world, and its new inhabitants. The war against Shaya was important, but what came after? What came in a year, or a decade, or a century? She wanted this world to flourish, no matter the cost. That meant that while she could bring a tremendous army with her, it would also put her children at risk.
I approve of your sudden prudence. I still believe you have squandered the Earthmother, but since the deed is done, this world should be carefully husbanded. Your goal of creating a religion seems promising.
“My children,” Nebiat said, her magic carrying the words to the ear of every Wyrm, hatchling and adult, all over the planet. “It troubles me to call upon you so soon after your awakening, but we have great need. We are at war, and even now our enemies seek to resurrect their goddess. If they succeed, every egg is at risk. They must be stopped. I call upon the strong to join me. We will take the war to them, and see that they trouble us no longer.”
Draconic shrieks sounded all over the planet, every Wyrm crying out their defiance. The largest leapt into the air, and she smiled as they rose by the hundred. They sailed into the void, swirling around her like a swarm of bats.
Why not bring a thousand? Or five thousand? Your world could still flourish.
“Because if this war comes down to attrition we’ve already lost,” Nebiat explained, rather graciously in her estimation. “I bring enough to subdue the remains of the Shayan’s fleet, and whatever else she’s cobbled together. Add to that our Ifrit, and Shaya has no chance of survival. There are many possibilities where Voria rises, but if she manages to, it will come down to a contest between us, and having a larger force of Wyrms will not change the outcome. Win or lose I wish to return to a prosperous world. Unlike you I plan to take the stewardship of my race seriously.”
