by Skyler Grant
A voice came from the back room. "One moment and the spirits will be with you."
"It's Banok, and the only spirits you have come in bottles. Save the show, Calla," Banok called out.
With an answering grunt a young woman stepped out. Golden hair and breezy white robes combined to give her a majestic appearance that seemed totally unsuited to the surroundings.
"Banok, didn't know you were in port," Calla said.
Banok found it difficult to focus on her too long. The white and gold of her life force was nearly blinding. Immortals were few and far between outside of Elven territory, and when a druid met one it was enough to make them wish for sunglasses.
"Just got in. Needed to do some shopping," Banok said.
"No fortune told?"
Banok had made that mistake once. Calla's readings had a way of coming true, and he wasn't convinced that they foretold the future so much as shaped it. Whatever his destiny might be, he'd rather it not come about as a result of Calla's whims.
"You know better," Banok said.
Calla snorted and grabbed a bottle from a shelf, popping the cap and taking a swig before idly gesturing with her free hand. The surroundings rippled. The dull and tacky squalor of a cut-rate fortune teller vanished to be replaced by a much more resplendent chamber. The stone carvings on the walls were partly of Calla herself, often standing near a lake with mountains in the background.
Banok had never quite figured out just who she was—what she was. The pointed ears suggested Elven, but he was quite sure she wasn't. Whatever she was, the Dwarves had venerated her for longer than anyone could say, and when they'd come here, she'd come with them.
"You've lost a month or two of lifeforce since I last saw you. You shouldn't do that," Calla said.
"Lose a month or two at the end, or lose the whole thing at once when someone shoots me. Easy choice to make," Banok said.
"I can return them. You know I can. Entering my service is not so onerous as you fear," Calla said.
Banok knew better than that, too. Elder beings never quite saw the world in the same way mortals did—or the concept of "service". If he ever accepted Calla's offer, he might get back a few lost years or even gain thousands more. It was also possible he'd be standing guard on the door the entire time. If he'd had minutes left of life, he might consider it, but not now.
"Talk to me when I'm more desperate. For now, I'm after magic I can take with me. I'll be running into some magical obstacles," Banok said.
Calla motioned and led him back through the doorway into a small hall lined with an absurd amount of statues, then to a side room filled with shelves.
"You came on a good day. I have the usual, but also a few items more. Warning charms, ward breakers. Two swords and a spear—both enchanted. Pistol ammunition, twenty-four shots," Calla said.
That was mostly what Banok had expected. Warning charms were something any criminal wanted in their possession. They'd usually notify the holder in some way when danger approached. They tended to only have a few charges, but even a single use could save one from disaster. Ward breakers were a crude way to get past magical defenses, simply overpowering the spell with a raw release of magical energy. The results tended to be explosive. Banok had no need of those, his own magic allowed him to unweave wards properly even if the process was more time-consuming.
The weapons were another matter. Banok had hoped she might have something; the swords and spear were more than he'd hoped for, but the ammunition was the real prize.
While guns typically worked well against mortal flesh, they were far less effective against magical creatures. The reasons were complex, but it was a real problem and why Banok preferred his magic for ranged encounters. Enchanted rounds of ammunition made a big difference, but were frightfully expensive. The detailed work of carving runes on the bullet itself required a skilled professional, and the magical investiture onto something that small to have a large effect was complicated. That was the thing with magic, it always had a cost. Druid magic drained lifeforce. All magic-users paid in something.
"I'll take all of them," Banok said.
Calla raised an eyebrow. "Cleo is paying then. How is the girl?"
"She is. You can send the bill to the ship."
Calla clicked her tonge and said, "So free with other people’s money. Other people's power. You shouldn't be. This isn't like you, all of this. Why do a bunch of thieves need to clean out my entire inventory?"
"You asking or demanding?"
"Whichever I have to. You plan on waging war against someone with what I sell you, I'd rather know," Calla said.
Banok suspected that with Calla her services weren't really about the money. Money was just one sort of offering, one form of power. The old ones, the really old ones, liked to be worshiped. It was part of the reason they were often such a problem to the younger races with different ideas.
"We're planning an expedition into the Fade," Banok said after a moment.
Calla frowned at that, looking at the table. "You're a damned fool, and you know better than that. Cleo—that girl will be the death of you."
"You know it's not like that."
"Just because I'm not doing a reading, don't think I can't see the truth about you, boy. I know exactly what it is like, and if it were anyone else but Cleo, you'd refuse," Calla said, letting out a low breath.
Banok had no answer for that.
"You selling to me or not?" Banok asked.
She said, "Even here on a rock in the depths of space I sometimes get a taste of the wind. There is a change in it, druid. There is darkness. If you want my advice, you'll take that girl of yours and fly far from the planets of men. You'll run and not look back."
It was uncomfortably close to a reading. Uncomfortably close to a prophecy.
"I've heard you. I'll keep it in mind. But run or stay, I'd rather do it well-armed," Banok said.
Calla gave a weary sigh. "And I know when I am being put off. I'll sell to you, and I'll charge Cleo a fortune for her foolishness. We both know that spirit inside of her won't let Cleo turn away once she's caught a scent."
"Do you know what's coming? Not like me to ask, I know, but ..." Banok said.
"The Elven kingdom once spread across the stars. That was until the High King Eleoas fell to the darkness taking so many with him. The Dwarves ruled next before, from the Dwarve's own darkness, came the dragons. Now the race of man looks outward with such confidence, but all ages must end," Calla said heavily.
"We defeated the Void Queen," Banok said.
"Please, boy. You know better than that, too. If you'd truly done that, there would be no Fade and you'd not be buying me out. You beat your darkness back and weakened it severely, and then you turned your back and pretended it no longer existed."
"And here you are encouraging me to do just that," Banok said.
Calla flashed a weak smile. "I like you, druid. Always have, but you're no hero. Whatever is coming will need the idealistic and the foolish to stand in its path."
"You think it is the Fade then?"
Calla almost answered, at the last moment shaking her head ruefully. "No, not truly. Darkness on the wind. I don't think any of the ancient nightmares are making their return, but they could surprise me. I shouldn't share this, but I've done ten readings this week."
"And?" Banok asked, fearing the answer.
"Not a one of them lives out this year. They are all doomed."
"Now I'm really glad I didn't let you read me. Don't worry, Calla. I'm stubborn and I'm mean, and I've got a lot of years left to burn," Banok said.
6
The next few days passed quickly. There were currently two mercenary squads in port, the Green Hawks and the Crimson Blade, and it didn't long for both to be on the payroll. Their transports were slower than the Catspaw so Cleo sent them off at once. Even leaving now they'd still arrive a day after the Catspaw was expected to reach the tomb in the Fade.
Banok wasn't happy about that on a few
levels. It seemed a mistake to give that location to anyone else, especially mercenaries. It also left them without any support in port after they'd just thrown a lot of money around.
The cargo hold was getting filled with supplies. The equipment for any robbery was often bulkier than honest people would think, but usually it was manageable because you knew exactly what you were likely to be dealing with. In this case, the tomb was a lot of unknowns, and the bewildering array of supplies reflected that.
Five hours before their departure Banok found himself escorting Cleo as she made a last-minute deal. An industrial drill designed for work on military starship hulls, capable of sustained boring through even armored plating. They were strictly regulated, for obvious reasons.
It was unusual for one to be even available, and Banok didn't feel any better about it when the bearded merchant spent minutes dickering before even letting Cleo get a look at the unit.
Banok expanded his senses outward. There was nothing untoward, but there was an uncomfortable echo.
Cleo glanced up at him. "Problem?"
Probing at that echo wasn't getting him anywhere, and that was suspicious. Living space in the asteroid was at a premium, and yet he wasn't detecting any nearby life energy outside of the room.
"Think so. They've got a magic-user," Banok said.
"There is no problem here," said the merchant.
Cleo pulled her pistol. The merchant reached into his robes, but Cleo didn't draw her gun just to point it. Three shots dropped the man to the floor.
Banok did appreciate that about Cleo. Some people would cling to the idea of a situation working out even long after it had gone sour. Cleo was like a switch. Once it was clear things were bad she did whatever it took to come out on top.
A door swung open and a grenade rolled through. It exploded in a spray of fine mist. Gas? No, something else. Cleo went to kick it out of the room and slipped, surprised even as she curled up to hit the ground at a roll.
"Don't move," Cleo said.
Banok froze. A figure with a rifle appeared at the doorway. There was still no sense of lifeforce and without being able to manipulate that, he couldn't freeze muscles.
Nothing was stopping him from working with his own. It was a bigger expenditure than Banok wanted, but it would do. Channeling his energy into a barrier, it formed just in time. A pair of darts fired from the rifle bounced off, clattering to the floor.
"What is this stuff?" Banok asked.
"Slick grenade. Coated us and everything in the room with a slippery film. Go for your weapon and it will slither right out of your hand. Try to walk, you'll go down," Cleo said.
The armored figure at the doorway was pulling back, replaced by a woman in red robes.
That would be the spellcaster, come to do something about his barrier.
Banok could work with that.
"Brace," Banok said. Cleo was still curled up. He boosted his muscles. With shove he sent Cleo—still in a ball—hurtling across the super-slick floor towards the doorway.
Cleo couldn't get to her feet, but there was nothing wrong with her reflexes. Uncurling just before she hit the sorceress she delivered a double-heeled kick to the woman's midsection. It flung the sorceress backward, wheezing for air, and Cleo spinning back wildly into the room.
It was enough. The blur clouding Banok's senses lifted—there were two dozen of them outside the doorway.
Too many. His magic might be able to handle a few, but before it could take out half that many he'd be forced to sleep for a week.
Could Nyx back them up? They'd left the fairy back at the ship, making preparations for launch. While she might have a weapon that could handle a group this big, she was too far away.
There was only the one exit from the room. They'd planned this ambush well.
"Too many of them," Banok said.
"Can you get me out that door? They'll have a solvent. They'd need one to capture us," Cleo said.
Banok doubted he could shift Cleo again by staying standing. He also didn't like throwing Cleo into the danger instead of going himself, but she'd know what they were looking for. He wouldn't.
With a leap he flung himself towards the wall closest to Cleo. The jump wasn't quite far enough and as soon as his boots hit the floor they slid right out from beneath him. He didn't hit the floor nearly as gracefully as Cleo had, landing with a bone-jarring thud, and smashing into the wall an instant later.
Good enough. Bracing his back he pushed Cleo with his feet and sent her sliding towards the doorway once again.
Before she was out he could almost see two of her. The Cleo he knew, and the jaguar spirit within her unleashing. It was rare for her to let it out this fully, and her features were already shifting to reflect it. Looking less human and more cat-like.
Outside, she roared. Banok heard the sound of tranquilizer darts being fired, followed by a man's scream and a body hitting the floor.
Not more than thirty seconds had passed before a second grenade rolled into the room. It puffed, just like the first. Banok wiped his hand against the wall. It was still slick, but not the impossible slippery of before.
Banok pulled his staff from his back as he ran from the room. Three bodies on the ground. One was the sorceress, her throat torn open by claws. Two in armor. Cleo was still up but had three darts sticking in her—three that Banok could see. Another grenade on the ground here, she must have already neutralized her own coating.
Reaching out with his lifeforce Banok could feel the drugs already coursing through her system, slowing her reaction time. Neutralizing them would burn more energy than he should, but there wasn't a choice. They both needed to keep their feet if they were going to get out of this.
Crouching low he delivered a sharp jab from the staff to the armored visor of an attacker. Backed with his strength and the magic of the weapon, the face plate shattered and bones cracked as the man collapsed.
Banok hit his comm. "Nyx. We're on our way back, we need to launch as soon as we're aboard."
"This about the jerks that tried to board us? I set them on fire," Nyx said.
Of course, they'd hit the ship as well. Why take chances?
"Got a few more," Banok said.
Cleo was fighting three of the armored men. All had drawn stun batons and were doing their best to take her down. One wouldn't have been a problem for Cleo, but three meant more blows than even she could dodge. More were closing in from the corridor.
Banok drew in a surge of lifeforce and sent the attackers at the other end of the hall flying. The close quarters worked to his advantage here.
"Cleo, we need to go," Banok shouted.
Cleo hissed, making no move to withdraw from her losing battle.
Cats, they didn't always know when to give up the fight. Cleo was fully in the grip of her spirit, it wasn't her head making the choices.
Banok boosted his strength and grabbed her, tossing her over a shoulder before taking off at a sprint.
Cleo was having none of it, claws scratching and tearing at his flesh as he moved, and he was fairly sure she was burying a set of fangs into his upper arm.
There wasn't time to stop. Burning yet more lifeforce he dulled the pain so that he could keep moving. Into his reserves again—this would cost him.
The hatch of the Catspaw sealed the instant he passed through still carrying Cleo. The ship began vibrating beneath him. Nyx was taking them away from here in a hurry, and it was just in time. Banok could already feel himself losing consciousness.
7
Banok awoke as a chill took hold of his body. His life energy hadn't fully restored, not yet, and he didn't think it was going to. From the deadened cold he felt surrounding the Catspaw on all sides, the ship must have passed into the Fade while he was out of it.
The energy of both Cleo and Nyx were on the bridge, so he headed in that direction.
Most of the work of flying the ship was automated and as such the bridge was largely there for emergencies. It was
a spherical room in the center of the ship correlating the sensors in all directions and projecting them on view-screens. A barely visible walkway led to a half-dozen chairs that seemed to float in a void. In normal space one would be surrounded by stars, or the sights of the system they were in. In the Fade all the view-screens were displaying an unsettling darkness.
"You're awake," Cleo said, catching sight of him and bouncing to her feet. "I thought you'd need longer. Oh, they haven't healed yet."
The scratches she'd given him. No, they hadn't. The sleep hadn't been long enough for that.
"Don't worry about it. You weren't yourself," Banok said.
"We both know that isn't exactly true. In some ways I was more myself than ever," Cleo said.
"I still say that if you get to claw him to shreds, then I should get to set him on fire. We're a team," Nyx said, buzzing about in the air.
"We got away clean?" Banok asked.
"If you being bleeding everywhere and them shooting at us a lot is clean," Nyx said. "And they did some damage to us."
That said something about the quality of their ship. The Catspaw wasn't easy to hit.
"Do we know who they were?" Banok asked.
"They were loaded up with non-lethal weapons. High-end ones too. Too many to be bounty hunters. Along with a sorceress that was a match for you ..." Cleo said.
"Better than me. I was blocked until we knocked the wind out of her," Banok said.
"Not bounty hunters. They don't work in teams that big. And not just thieves after my money, not with that kind of equipment," Cleo said.
"Someone wanting to interfere in our doing this job? Something personal with one of you?" Banok asked.
Cleo frowned. "Maybe. I'm worth a lot if someone knows where to sell me, but I keep a low profile, as you people all know."
Since her own crew didn't really know anything about Cleo, they couldn't argue.
"Nobody wants me that much. If anyone were sending teams, it would be to keep me away, not capture me," Banok said.
"Same," Nyx said, landing on the back of a chair.
