by Chris Fox
She left it at that, and watched as Krox pulsed thoughtfully. It did not take the god very long to puzzle out her true motivations. You suggest that the reason for this folly is to make your enemy fear you, which is plausible, but a lie. I have watched your mind. You are too cunning not to have considered what might happen if your new servant decides she is your enemy. What will you do if Frit betrays you?
She will not. Nebiat’s confidence was total, and she reveled in Krox’s consternation. The god could feel her certainty. You want to know why, but you are literally incapable of understanding how mortals make their choices. Frit has the power of a goddess, as I do, but the truth is both of us are still mortals. We think like mortals. Frit will not turn on me, I assure you. Because I will give her no reason to turn on me. The key to an alliance, which is what I have forged, is mutual interest. Frit wants the same things I do.
Krox’s anger broke like a tidal wave hitting a granite shore. Amusement leaked in, then overtook the rage. Ah, little goddess, your hubris is incredible. Frit wants the same things you do, FOR NOW. We shall see if you come to regret this little decision.
Nebiat’s amusement also grew. The god thought it knew her ultimate plan, but it had no idea. None of them did. When her plans came to fruition the entire sector would be shocked. Until that day let them continue to underestimate her, as Krox did.
46
Goodbye
Frit found translocation to be the most intuitive of all magic. Think about a place, and then simply be there. She arrived in her quarters on the Spellship, which were cold and empty. A single flower sat in a vase on the nightstand, which hadn’t been there when she’d left. One of Kaho’s little gifts.
He left them regularly, and never once accepted credit when she’d thanked him. Instead he liked to pretend they must be from some other secret admirer. She smiled, then exited her quarters and made her usual walk to the library.
No one accosted her. No one looked up at her. She was invisible, as usual, which was terrifying from a tactical perspective. Frit had been bred for combat, and had read countless treatises on erecting defenses. Allowing an enemy guardian to enter your ship at will was a massive security flaw. What if Talifax translocated in and executed Nara, then left?
She entered the library’s vaulted room, her smile growing when she spotted Kaho at a table near the door. He had several tomes spread before him, and his snout was deeply buried in one on the table before him.
A group of scholars clustered around a table on the opposite side of the room, and Frit heard Nara’s voice, though she couldn’t make out what she was saying. She paused, and decided she wanted to speak to Kaho before saying goodbye to Nara. That she wanted to put off as long as possible.
“Kaho?” she called as she neared the table.
He looked up, his slitted eyes focusing on her. They widened and he rose hastily to his feet. “Frit, I—I had no idea. You’re glowing like, well, I don’t really have a basis of comparison. The only word I have to describe you is goddess, and I am not speaking of how attractive you are. Though you are certainly a goddess in that respect as well.”
She gave a delighted laugh, and flung her arms around Kaho’s waist. “Thank you.”
“For what?” He wrapped his wings protectively around them.
“For believing in me.” She pushed gently against him, and disengaged. Kaho released her, and understanding lay in his gaze.
“You’re not staying,” he muttered, the words stripped of all emotion. His tail drooped though, revealing his disappointment.
“I can’t.” She bit her lip. “I’ve had a lot of time to think. I need to find a way to free Nebiat. I’ve agreed to do that, and after having spent time with her I think it’s in our people’s best interests.”
“Our people?” Kaho eyed her curiously. “Are you speaking of her world?”
“It is that, true, but it is also our world.” She smiled as she thought of it, entire continents full of their respective peoples. That’s what it would grow into, given time. “I know you don’t understand my rationale. In time, I think you will. I have to solve this, and it can’t be done here. If I want to help Nebiat I need to speak to an elder god. The same one that Nara went to in the Umbral Depths.”
Kaho shook his head sadly, his tail drooping. “I believe she’s under some sort of magical compulsion that will not allow her to speak of it. They all are. It seems a prudent precaution, one I don’t see an easy way to circumvent.”
Frit’s eyes narrowed and she gave a wicked smile. “One of the few advantages to being a fly on the wall is that people say all sorts of things in front of you. Voria had a map into the Umbral Depths, and if I can get a look at it, then I can translocate to that world.”
Kaho eyed her sidelong, and settled back into his chair. “I suspect it may not be…quite that simple.”
Frit couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Probably not. I’m going to miss you.”
Kaho faced her fully, and his emotions played across his scaly face, all the things she knew he wanted to say made clear in those soulful eyes. “I’ll miss you too. I wish I could go with you, but I have made my choice, and do not shift allegiances lightly. I hope we never have to meet in battle.”
Only in that moment did the magnitude of what she’d done come crashing down on Frit. Going to war with Kaho and with Nara, was now a definite possibility. She needed to accept that.
“I’ll do everything I can to prevent that.” She licked her lips, a puff of smoke rising with a hiss. “Give me time to work with Nebiat, and I will push for peace. We all know Nefarius is the real enemy at this point, and that Krox has to be contained or he’ll be just as bad. Nebiat can do that, if she’s allowed the space. People don’t have to like her. They just need to stay out of the rift.”
He shook his head sadly. “I do not know what will happen. Come and see me if you can.”
“I’d like that.” She rested a smoldering hand on his arm. “And I’ll come back, I promise.”
She turned from him and hurried off, before her emotions got the better of her. This was going to be hard enough as it was. Leaving Kaho behind had been difficult, but facing Nara could lead to armed conflict, though she suspected her godsight suggested that possibility was remote.
Frit strode across the marble floor, carefully navigating a path even as she considered the extravagance that had gone into this vessel’s creation. It showed her, in one more small way, the field she was playing on. She’d just agreed to serve the type of being who created this ship.
Nara sat at a table surrounded by perhaps a dozen scholars, each of whom jealously guarded their position. Frit moved to the back of the line, and tried to edge her way closer. She earned a few annoyed glares, but didn’t make it any nearer to her friend.
Old Frit would have meekly turned away and come back another time. Unfortunately, that Frit was now a luxury. One she could no longer afford. Frit stepped forward and gently stoked the fire magic within her.
Heat radiated from her, intense enough to be painful. The closest scholars backed away with cries, and Frit flared her aura again. Now fire rose from every portion of her body, white and pure, and hot. Hot enough that every last one of the scholars began backing away.
Only then did Nara look up and notice her, and her eyes went comically wide. “Frit, uh, you’re melting the edge of the table.” Nara reached out and moved an ancient tome that had been sitting near the part of the table turning red from heat.
Frit dampened her aura, but only slightly. She folded her arms, and met Nara’s gaze. “We need to talk. In private would be best.”
“Could we maybe do this—”
“Send them away, Nara.” Frit closed her eyes, and kept a tight rein on her anger.
Shuffling feet sounded all around them, and Frit finally opened her eyes to find Nara sitting alone. The scholars hadn’t retreated very far, but Frit no longer cared if they watched. She’d say what needed to be said, and then be on her way.
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br /> “I’ve made a choice you aren’t going to like,” Frit began, licking her lips. “Nebiat came to Kaho with an offer.”
Nara froze, and her face drained of blood. So Frit kept on.
“Kaho refused that offer,” she paused, but only for an instant. She needed to do this. “Next Nebiat came to me. She needed a guardian, and I agreed.”
Nara’s face fell, and tears began to flow from her eyes. “Why, Frit? After what she did to Shaya you have to know what that means.”
The scholars backed further away, and more than a few had erected life wards in apparent anticipation of the combat they believed was about to play out.
“Krox wants to enslave the galaxy,” she explained. “The only thing keeping him from doing that is Nebiat. She’s repopulated her world, somehow. There are tens of thousands of Wyrms, and thousands of Ifrit. They’re prospering. The world is amazing. In a generation it will exceed Virkon. Maybe even sooner. Nebiat agreed to give me the power to help protect that world, and to shape its people. She’s offered a home, one where I won’t be a freak.”
“You have to know she’s just telling you what you want to hear,” Nara snapped. Her eyes flashed as she shot to her feet and planted both palms on the table. “I cannot believe how disappointed—”
“Oh, get over yourself,” Frit roared. She stabbed an accusing finger at her friend. “You’re the same type of traitor I’m accused of being, but of course they welcomed you back with open arms. Gave you a position of power, and their trust, of course. Don’t act like you’re better than me, Nara. You don’t have all the facts, and if our friendship ever meant anything to you, then you’ll consider those facts before making any decisions.”
Nara took a deep breath and sat back down. Her expression softened, and tears fell unheeded. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Tell me, please. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”
“It’s not your fault.” Frit dimmed her aura and moved to sit across from her best friend, grateful that Nara had proven reasonable. She regretted her outburst. That hadn’t been fair. “I still remember how scared and lost you were when you first came to the Temple of Enlightenment. That girl became my friend, and she still is.”
Another tear slid down Nara’s freckled cheek. “I don’t understand. Help me understand, Frit. Please.”
“Nebiat is keeping Krox in check, for now.” She sighed and leaned back in her chair. “Eventually Krox will devour her, and when he does he’ll be free. When that day comes he’ll be as dangerous as Nefarius, or maybe even more so. Nebiat is the only thing keeping him in check. She asked me for one thing. She wants me to find a way to free her before Krox wins.”
“So that’s it.” Nara straightened and gave Frit a calculating look. “Nebiat needs you to save her, and you need me to do that. That’s why you’re here.”
Frit nodded. “I want to find the world you went to in the Umbral Depths. I want to find the same answers you did.”
“But you have to know I’m not allowed to talk about that.” Nara sighed. “I’m not sure I would even if I could.”
“You don’t have to say a word,” Frit said. “Just tell me where you found the map.”
“I can’t help you.” Nara shook her head sadly. “The map was in the Big Texas’s computer, and the ship didn’t survive the trip.”
“That’s all I needed. Thank you.” Frit leaned across the table, and tried to ignore the tears in her own eyes. “I’ll find a way to help you win this war, Nara. We don’t have to be enemies.”
“I hope you’re right.” Nara rose, and they hugged, perhaps for the last time.
47
The Fist
There was no fanfare when Skare arrived in the system known by its Catalyst—the Fist of Trakalon. The system was far enough out of the way that few had reason to come here. There were no natural resources and no habitable worlds.
The only features of note were three gas giants, each a different boring shade of orange, all orbiting an equally boring star.
Even the Catalyst wasn’t much to look at. The untrained observer would have called it a planet, and it did fit many of the criteria. Most of the structure was mineral. Granite and iron and osmium and many other metals and rocks veined through what were clearly the fingers of the galaxy’s most titanic fist.
Those fingers were attached to a hand that had been severed at the wrist, but it was easy to extrapolate the size of the god from that one severed appendage. Trakalon wouldn’t even notice the Dragon’s Skull, or the sizable fleet Skare had brought. They were smaller than insects. More on the scale of bacteria, perhaps.
Skare rather enjoyed the reminder of his relative size, because it underscored the sheer immensity of the beings he was dealing with. Soon Nefarius would rise, and when she did he would learn the true meaning of service.
He had little doubt that his own ambitions would be secondary, but he’d seen how Talifax operated. The guardian was free to accumulate power. Free to do as he willed for millennia at a time, so long as he was always tending to the needs of his master.
Skare was more than prepared to sacrifice whatever Nefarius wished. He doubted she would ask much, as any intelligent deity would see the value in a willing servant. Not a servant with their own interests, but rather a servant willing to skim power off the top while accomplishing the goals of their master.
“Caelendra, plot a course inside the fist, please.” Skare rose nervously from his chair, and watched as the scry-screen showed their approach.
The bridge crew, nameless techs as far as he was concerned, busied themselves at various consoles. It would have been a simple matter to automate their work, but Skare valued skilled subordinates. They often spotted things their masters were blind to.
The vessel swung ponderously around the fist, to the part where the thumb curled over the index finger. The Dragon Skull slipped into the shadowed recesses, disappearing into the area where the fingers met the palm. The area where Talifax had been quietly orchestrating the return of his mistress for who knew how many millennia.
The ship entered the cavernous center chamber, where a pool of immense void magic undulated and pulsed, confined by the magical wards etched into every visible inch of the surrounding rock. Those wards did more than just contain the magic…they hid it from scrying.
“That was the reason,” Talifax’s voice rumbled from barely a meter away, “that I chose this place.”
Skare darted an irritated glance at the guardian in his bulky black armor. In his surprise Skare had very nearly activated his new armor, which was, so far as he knew, still a secret from Talifax. Keeping it that way was vital. It was possible the armor was strong enough to overcome Talifax, but if they ever clashed, Skare knew overwhelming and unexpected force was his only hope for victory. It must be a surprise.
He considered chastising Talifax for sneaking up on him, but any reaction was a victory for the mysterious semi-deity. So Skare gave him nothing beyond the glance.
“Yes, yes, I understand.” Skare waved dismissively at the near-deity. “The fist’s earth magic cloaks the blood of Nefarius. Not even the watcher in the depths can pierce your wards. We are all very proud, I assure you.”
Talifax barked a very human laugh, and shook his helmeted head, the unreadable visor focusing on Skare. “I suspect there may be a note of sarcasm there. I admit I will miss our little chats after we accomplish what we set out to do.”
Skare ignored the obvious bait. Talifax was implying Skare wouldn’t survive the rebirth, but Skare refused to ask why. He wouldn’t get a straight answer, and suspected Talifax was just trying to distract him. In a way that was good. If Talifax thought him worthy of misdirection then he must see Skare as a threat.
Talifax gestured at the wards. “You aren’t wrong, but you did not capture the whole truth. Many mortal mages do not understand the true nature of magic. In time, one god can digest another. Earth can be converted into void.”
Skare’s eyes widened as that single bit of know
ledge reordered his entire world view. It was so simple. How had he missed it? “So in addition to hiding our endeavors, you are using the fist as a sort of incubator.”
“Precisely.” Talifax approached the scry-screen. “I have been draining the magic for centuries, gradually strengthening my mistress while drawing from the fallen titan.” He turned back to Skare, that mask as inscrutable as ever. “That process is nearly complete. When that happens the wards will fail, and all our enemies will realize what we have done. If you have not accumulated the requisite number of ships we will not be able to conduct the ritual. Either way…they will come for us.”
“The fact that you don’t know if I have enough ships is promising.” Skare folded his arms, and delivered a confident smile. If Talifax hadn’t seen the ships it was that much more likely he had no idea about the armor. “I’ve kept those vessels cloaked from all possibilities, but I assure you…we have enough. More than enough.”
“Excellent.” Talifax took several booming steps closer. “Then only one piece remains. Our enemies will bring it to us, we will claim it, and our mistress will be reborn. I must admit, Inuran, that I am quite pleasantly surprised by your dedication and ingenuity. You have accomplished more than any other servant I have ever employed.”
“Thank you, mighty one.” Skare gave a respectful bow, not too deep. Talifax might believe him a servant, but once Nefarius rose he would find out how very mistaken he was.
