by Kyle West
The three of them ran sternward, finding that they were not the only ones fleeing. Mage-Knights and sailors had abandoned their posts, seeking refuge from the advancing kinetic wave. The ship heaved as the front of the wave reached the bow, splitting timbers as it punctured the helium-filled envelope above them.
“Serah, gravity aura!”
“On it!”
“Fergus!”
He was dead ahead and running toward them. Serah streamed her aura, and instantly, Lucian was light on his fleet, lifting off from the deck below them. Were they going up, or was the ship sinking? It was impossible to tell. But all four of them were together now, clasping to each other and borne by the wind, sharing the aura streamed by Serah. She would not be able to maintain this magic for long, and worse, they would fly right into the disintegrating envelope above unless Lucian found something of sufficient mass to tether themselves toward. But that was impossible to do in a storm where he couldn’t see more than five meters ahead of him.
Fergus’s eyes shone vibrantly green, and not a moment later, something was shining in the direction of the Orb – what looked like a pillar or a column. It was beyond the kinetic wave, the only visible thing of mass onto which to tether himself and his friends.
Still streaming the Orb of Binding, he tethered the four of them to that pillar, shining like a beacon in the darkness. From before, he knew doing this would require an insane amount of ether. And he knew if the Orb failed to supply it, all of them were as good as dead.
Don’t fail me now. I’m either Chosen, or I’m dead. You decide.
As if in answer to those words, magic roared out of him, and every limb shook with that power. Lucian streamed power into all four tethers. Just as Serah’s gravity aura dissipated, all four of them rocketed forward, past the falling deck of the Zephyr and before the collapsing envelope above could ensnare them. A rope nicked at Lucian’s shoulder, sending him into a spin, but the tether set him straight as he continued on his path forward.
But there was still the expanding kinetic wave. It was mere seconds away.
“Stream with me,” he shouted. “Psionic shield!”
As a single unit, they joined his stream, entrusting their Focuses to him. Serah was the first to add her Psionic Magic to Lucian’s. Soon after, Fergus and Cleon added their own strength, each of those streams weaker than Serah’s. Every little bit of magic would matter.
For the first time in his life, Lucian was controlling four streams from four people. The sheer amount of magic ripping through him made him want to faint with euphoria. Anything felt possible. Despite the excruciating inferno beneath his skin, the sheer bliss of that amount of magic made it all worth it. He streamed the shield, directing every bit of ether he could into making it strong enough to withstand the wave. But despite that amount of magic, it might not be enough.
Their shield winked out as soon as contact was made, but that split second was all they needed. Lucian felt faint at having that amount of magic suddenly extinguished, but he refocused and maintained his Binding streams on the pillar. They could still die if he lost his concentration. A fall from this height would kill them just as surely as the kinetic wave.
Lucian had just enough energy to look over his shoulder and see the wave tearing the rest of the Zephyr asunder. Men and women were jumping overboard, flying into the air, screaming and dying.
Serah pinched him. “Focus!”
Lucian turned back around. They were almost there. He kept the Binding stream steady. Fergus’s eyes were still green, his face strained with the effort of keeping the pillar lit. He had to keep it up long enough for them to make it.
“Almost there,” Serah said. “Don’t give up.”
He felt her hand reach his. It was enough motivation to continue. He couldn’t give up on her, nor on Fergus and Cleon. They had followed him across an entire moon on this mad, stupid quest. They deserved to see what lay at the end of it after everything they had gone through.
The storm and dust whipped around them. It was just the four of them floating down in the maelstrom, inching closer and closer toward that spire.
Lucian could feel it, now. The Orb of Psionics thrummed with power, with potential.
And it was waiting.
With the last of his strength, he sped the rate of their descent. Within seconds, they were landing on an ancient floor of stone, which must have been buried under all that sand. Lucian almost wanted to kiss the ground, but he didn’t have the strength. His vision was dark at the sides, and it was a struggle to look up, to see an ancient spire stretching at least two hundred meters above them, a building of clearly non-human origin.
Serah and Fergus helped him stand, both of whom had their shockspears at the ready. A tornado of sand surrounded them, swirling with violet Psionic Magic. It surrounded the entirety of the spire, protecting it from the outside. Lucian watched in awe. He felt as if he were in a trance looking at it.
“We can’t stop and gawk,” Fergus said. “We’re here! Let’s get the Orb. We don’t know if that wave got the Queen. If we reach it first . . .”
A blinding, violet light shimmered from the direction of the Psionic storm. It could only mean one thing. The Queen was coming, and her Psionic Magic was surely strong enough to endure the Psionic wall, just as theirs had been. A blue tether bound itself to the base of the spire just fifty meters away.
“They’re coming!” Serah said.
The four of them ran. Lucian tried to reach for the Orb of Binding again, to undo the focal point set by the Queen, but his mind was so fried that he couldn’t even reach for it. And the others were not strong enough in Binding to do so, either.
Their only hope was to outrun the Sorceress-Queen and reach the Orb of Psionics first.
45
The entrance of the Spire swallowed them, and within it, they found a massive empty space extending all the way to the top, with a glowing crystalline staircase running up the room’s circular perimeter. A purple light shone at the top of those stairs.
The Orb was waiting.
“The three of you go,” Fergus said. “I’ll guard the entrance.”
Was he serious? “What? You’ll die!”
“I swore an oath to see you safely to the Orb. Now, Lucian, you must do your part. Use it to end the Queen’s reign of terror! Promise me!”
“Fergus—”
“Do it!” he bellowed. “I can hold them off long enough.”
Lucian saw that there was no point arguing with him. He ran, and Serah joined him. He glanced over his shoulder to see that Cleon, too, was staying behind.
“I have unfinished business with Kiani,” he called. “I have a feeling he’s with the Sorceress-Queen now. And two will last twice as long as one.”
Fergus nodded gratefully, before both men pointed their spears outward toward the entrance.
These two would be dead long before he and Serah reached the Orb. And now, Lucian had no choice. People were already dying for his cause.
“Run, slow-ass!”
Serah charged ahead, taking the steps two at a time, almost skipping up them in the low gravity. They were running for a couple of minutes before Lucian dared to look down again at the floor, where Cleon and Fergus still stood, spears wreathed in electricity and a Psionic ward deployed.
“If it comes to it,” Serah said, between breaths, “I’ll have to stay behind, too.”
“Stop talking like that,” Lucian said. “We’ll make it before the fight even begins.”
“Can’t you tether us up there?”
Lucian reached for the Orb, but his Focus was unresponsive, and he couldn’t latch onto anything. It was if everything in this Spire was warded in some way, keeping his Binding stream from attaching. “I can’t.”
They didn’t waste any more breath. They charged up the stairs until they were about halfway to the top. The violet radiance was becoming so bright that Lucian was blinded to the floor below them. The only sounds were their footsteps, the hum
of the Orb above, and finally, shouts and the clash of spears and shields below.
So much for getting there before the fighting started.
Not a moment later, Lucian felt ten times heavier. He collapsed to the stairs, like a fly caught in a trap.
“Damn her!” Serah said. “She’s strong!”
“Ward it!”
“I’m trying!”
They were reduced to a crawl with two more spirals left to go. It might have been Lucian’s imagination, but he thought he could see the Sorceress-Queen circling up the steps far below them, along with several of her Mage-Knights. Of Lord Kiani, there was no sign. Had the fight ended so soon? Or was time simply flying at the speed of light?
“Fergus . . . Cleon . . .” Lucian said. “I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologizing, start running!”
Lucian was suddenly light on his feet again. He bounded up the steps, with Serah ahead of him. At least, until she collapsed with a gray gravity amplification disc glowing below her.
Lucian reached her. “Serah!”
“Go! She thinks you’ll stop for me.”
“No. I won’t leave you here.”
“You idiot! Get the Orb! If you can get it, you can save me.”
She was right. As bad as it felt, he had to leave her behind and go for the Orb.
He felt his legs being pulled – someone was trying to tether him. He reached for the Orb of Binding, which he used to shield himself. Instantly, the tether disintegrated. He continued to run, keeping the Binding shield alive, a shell of blue surrounding him. A ward in this situation would not be strong enough to stand up to repeated attacks. Multiple tethers grabbed at his back, his legs, his feet. They slowed him down, but he only streamed his shield stronger to dislodge them.
He looked down to see the Sorceress-Queen advancing at incredible speed, no longer walking, but gliding. She was just meters from reaching Serah.
Her voice entered his head. Stop running, you fool! You can’t use the Orb of Psionics without me.
He ignored her, and instead drew deeply from the Orb of Binding. What he was about to do would take a lot of magic, and he was already near the breaking point. But he simply couldn’t leave Serah to her fate.
He’d learned little enough about brands, but he saw no other option. Using the Orb of Binding, he redirected the stream protecting himself to Serah, surrounding her with her own branded Binding shield. He somehow knew the effect would only be temporary, but it should help her last a few more seconds. To reach her physically, they would have to break the shield first.
He was making the final spiral – now directly above the Queen and her Mage-Knights, he was lost to sight, and safe from direct magic attacks. The violet light emanating from the Orb was blinding, but there was no time to wonder at it. He ran toward that blindness, and he couldn’t think about the consequences. He cleared the last step and galloped in low gravity across the flat, marble floor. He could see the pedestal, the prize before him, surrounded in a purple aura that had to be some sort of shield.
He was tripped up, either by another tether or a kinetic push. He crawled across the floor, entering the Psionic aura, feeling a curious coolness overwhelm him.
He stood, and before him saw the pedestal holding the glowing violet Orb of Psionics, just as the Orb of Binding had been on Volsung. Standing directly behind it was a bearded, hooded figure, arms folded, with completely white eyes set in a wrinkled face.
The old man raised a hand, and the purple motes of light swirling around the Orb went still in the air. All sound ceased, save for Lucian’s heavy breaths and the slight breeze that swirled around the Orb. Looking back at the stairs, he stood alone. No one was chasing him any longer – and peering through the open ceiling above them, even the Psionic storm had come to a dead stop.
Somehow, time itself had stilled for this moment. All that was left was Lucian, and the old man.
He could be none other than Shantozar, the Oracle of Psionics.
46
Lucian watched the floating, violet motes streaming from the Orb. He stood about five meters away. With just a few more steps, it could be in his hands. But if this were anything like the Orb of Binding, he could not simply walk up and take it.
He had to prove himself worthy.
“You must be Shantozar,” Lucian said. “Unless I miss my guess.”
Shantozar nodded. “That is certainly the name Arian gave for me in his Prophecy. And that name will suffice.”
“Did you speak with Arian?”
The Oracle watched him carefully. “Not as you and I are speaking now. But we had . . . conversations. And those conversations formed much of the basis of his Prophecy of the Seven. As the Oracle of Psionics, it was easier for me to communicate with him. And perhaps I had more motivation to.”
“What do you mean by that?”
Shantozar gave a rueful smile. “You are not ready for that knowledge, Aspirant for the Orbs. I daresay you seek to claim my Orb as yours by right. No doubt you have traveled far and have endured many hardships. And now, the moment of truth. Will I give it, or not? Will I find you worthy to bear the Amethyst of Starsea? Are you the Chosen of the Manifold, or merely another pretender?”
Lucian wasn’t sure how to respond to that. He didn’t see the Orb as his “right,” but he did see himself as the only one he trusted to hold it. “That about sums it up.”
“You certainly have proven something by finding this place,” Shantozar said. “The Psionic maelstrom I created with the power of the Orb could not hold you back, showing me that you are well-versed in Psionic Magic. Either that, or my storm was too weak.”
“I had help,” he said.
“Ah,” the Oracle said. “That is not something I counted on. You see, we Vigilants worked alone, not trusting even family to help us. To see your friends fight for you so . . . is strange to me.” He raised a quizzical eyebrow. “And in accordance with my own prophecy, you’ve come here with one of the Seven Jewels of Starsea.”
Lucian nodded. “Yes. The Orb of Binding.”
“The Vigilant of that Orb’s name might roughly translate as Rhana in your tongue,” he said. “She was a warrior of great beauty.” He smiled in reminiscence. “And my bitter rival.”
Lucian looked over his shoulder. “Look, I don’t want to rush you, but I have a friend out there who needs my help.”
Shantozar held up a wrinkled hand. “As soon as you entered the aura, time stopped. It is powerful Radiant magic that will abide until this Orb passes to another. It was sealed with the Seven Aspects and will not pass until the last suns die and the universe is a graveyard of black holes.” He smiled bitterly. “I daresay we have time. As much as we need to figure things out.”
“Okay,” Lucian said, hardly comprehending magic that powerful. “What must I do to gain the Orb of Psionics, then?”
“Understand that this is not a light thing you ask of me. I would see it in the right hands. The price of failure is too high.”
“Wouldn’t the right hands be someone who already has one of the Orbs?”
“Not necessarily.” He gave a frigid smile. “The right hands belong to the one who is most capable. The one who is wisest, who is mature enough to see the task through to the end. One who has a strong vision and plan for the future, and a dedication that will sacrifice anything for the fulfillment of that plan.”
Lucian went cold at that, since that last line especially seemed to describe Queen Ansaldra, and not him.
“Do you know how far I’ve come?” Lucian asked. “How hard I’ve worked, how many times I almost died to reach this point? For this to end with you telling me I’m not good enough . . . I’m sorry. I don’t buy it.”
“Ansaldra is powerful indeed. For her to even contact me with Psionic Magic, despite my own powerful wards wrought with the Orb, speaks to her skill. She could do a hundredfold more than you with the Orb in her hands. The Manifold has blessed her greatly with the Gift of Magic. With this Orb, she co
uld command armies and fleets, bending them to her will, scouring every world in Starsea until every last one of my companions’ Orbs is uncovered.” Shantozar watched Lucian for a reaction and sneered. “What could you do? Even with the Orb, you cannot hope to defeat her.”
Lucian felt the hairs on his arms rise. He had a feeling he knew what Shantozar wanted, what he was being goaded into.
“The Sorceress-Queen said she wanted to work with me, for me to have the Orb while she trained me. She says I’m the Chosen.”
“And are you?”
Lucian paused. “I have no choice but to believe that.”
Shantozar guffawed. “Maybe, maybe not. It doesn’t seem as if you’re too sure, which doesn’t help your case. Of course, it’s impossible to say who the Chosen truly is until all the chips are down and the cards have been revealed, to borrow a metaphor you are familiar with. She may believe you are the Chosen of the Manifold, boy, but prophecy is a tricky thing, especially where it concerns the Chosen. In other words, I wouldn’t count on that, were I you.”
“She said the prophecy came from you.”
“Yes,” Shantozar said. “But who says you’re the only one with an Orb to have ever visited this world, in the past or in the future?”
It wasn’t something Lucian had considered. And it didn’t do much for his confidence.
Shantozar waited, seeming to expect something more from Lucian.
“You want the Queen to have the Orb,” Lucian realized. “Not me.”
Shantozar nodded. “I do. Unless you have a better argument for why you should hold it?”
This was going to be harder than he thought. Saying he was here first probably wasn’t a good reason. He had to fight to keep his voice steady, because what he was about to say scared the rot out of him.
“Give me the Orb. If I defeat the Sorceress-Queen with it, I will prove myself worthy. If I die, well, then it only proves you right, and she will not only gain the Orb of Psionics, but the Orb of Binding, too.”
Shantozar’s wrinkled eyes widened ever so slightly, the only sign of his surprise. “You can’t be serious. You will surely die.”
