Camellia put a hand on the basan’s shoulder. It stood a couple heads taller than her and stalked at her side. Till late afternoon, they traveled. When the sun rose high, Camellia risked sleep. The basan watched over her, and she slumbered in a large old pipe, broken from its original line.
As night fell, automatons approached, but before they arrived, the turret guns destroyed most. Camellia just had to call the gun operators and give them a general direction, in relation to her position. The robots never responded verbally or even with synthetic sounding beeps, but the turret guns fired, without hesitation.
Camellia watched rays of blue light blaze across the land, presumably leaving fields of dead automatons in their wake. She used four scrolls to freeze automatons that came within feet of her, and the basan froze more. Sometimes, it flew to attack from above. With the help of Camellia’s magic sword, they performed their icy wind maneuver, and every time, the basan became excited at their success and trotted in circles around Camellia.
There was no more shelter, and Camellia slept a morning under the basan. With a squawk, the basan woke her, and Camellia sighted a converter. It watched her from atop a far hill. Camellia scrambled to her feet and searched the horizon. The single converter was the only automaton present, but it watched her with intent. Camellia felt too tired to ignite proper anxiety. Her heart wouldn’t even race. Her inner world was quiet.
Camellia looked at the basan. Why can’t I just fly the rest of the way on this thing? Meladee never said I couldn’t.
She climbed astride the magical beast. At first, the basan tried to slip her off, acting just short of panic. It wouldn’t hurt her, but it wouldn’t move. It turned its head to gaze at her with wide, awkward eyes. A moment later, she slid off. Her thighs and nether bits were completely numb. Meladee had gifted this version of the basan with icy feathers as well as cold fire for breath.
Camellia gasped and knelt. If I want to enjoy the rest of my life, I’m not going to do that again.
After Camellia got warm and regained feeling, she started to walk. She kept the converter in sight, but it didn’t follow. Towards the coast, the creature’s presence also disappeared. The flesh grew thin, until Camellia saw none at all.
The land became peaceful. Camellia started to think, and thinking led her to the inevitable subject of Adalhard.
This impression I have of him, she told herself. Is just a fantasy. One I invented when he performed his professional duty to visit me, and his moral duty to ensure I wasn’t in a bad situation. He doesn’t care…not like that. Camellia tried to see their past conversations in a more sensible light, but her troublesome mind kept finding hints and clues. He brought me flowers. He snuck them into my room. Why does he care so much where I go or what I feel?
Camellia looked at the basan and said, “At first, I think I wanted him for comfort. Is that so wrong?”
The basan cocked its head.
“Now, I really do like him. I like him in spite of his meddlesome help. I like him. And every memory I have of him, and they’re all such fleeting things. What is wrong with me?” Camellia sighed and rubbed her forehead.
The basan could say nothing. Yet, it made a better therapist than anyone Camellia had seen before. They walked in silence, unbothered by the automatons, and by sunrise, she saw the coast.
Devoid of flesh, a white beach shone in the new light. A frothy sea lay beyond. At the far end of the beach, half submerged in tide, Camellia saw a complex of caves. She saw Lurren the way Eva remembered it and knew it was beautiful.
For a moment longer, Camellia admired the view. Then, she slid down a steep ridge and landed in the sand. The daylight sapped her strength, and Camellia took a while to stand. She brushed sand from her legs and swept it off her rear. The basan followed. It fluttered to the ground, despite its great size.
Camellia had found the south sea. Now, she just had to wait. Whether flesh lurked beneath the sand, she couldn’t say, but it all seemed too perfect.
Camellia turned around and faced the ridge. She startled. She stared into the mouth of a shallow cave. A series of caves ran the base of the ridge. Camellia narrowed her eyes and stared into one. She thought she saw something Lurren-made. Camellia entered. Old candles, half spent, stood upright on the cave floor. Sand buried a symbol, carved into the rock.
Camellia knelt and brushed some sand aside. She recognized the symbol: the winding branches of Ah’nee’thit’s cult seal and something more. The seal likely represented the tentacles that both creatures possessed, but Camellia wondered what the other part could mean. She pulled a brush from her bag. With care, she began to sweep the symbol clean. In its center, she uncovered a geometric pattern, something apparently unimportant to Ah’nee’thit. Maybe, it meant something to the big one.
You came.
Nearby the battle site, Eva and Meladee hid. They stayed hidden, until the automatons proved to be after Camellia.
Then, Eva set a fast pace to the ship. They ran, stopping only to let Meladee sleep for six hours. No automatons barred their path, but they said little, as if their voices could draw the creatures to them. Within a day, the flesh grew too thick for them to run. They stepped carefully around the mounds.
“So, we’re never going to talk about it?” Meladee asked.
“Talk about what?” Eva shot an annoyed glance back at Meladee. She had an idea what Meladee wanted to say, but she felt the guilt keenly enough, without Meladee’s pestering.
“That we left Camellia to maybe die in a wasteland all alone just so we could have a nice quiet walk to the ship.”
“I wouldn’t say I’ve set this pace at a walk.” Eva looked ahead. She knew it was illogical, but she hoped to see the ship soon, even though they stood hours off. “Listen, if she goes to the beach, she might be safe.”
“Why?”
“Everything’s buried. It can’t touch her. It’s probably on its way to the sea.”
“You know…” Meladee hopped over a mound and tried to draw even with Eva. “She’s an anthropologist. Sometimes, they like to dig things up. I hope she doesn’t get the idea to dig for flesh.”
Eva scoffed, “She wouldn’t.” Eva held up her communication device. “We should reach the ship in four hours.”
“I used to think I was pretty standoffish, but next to you, I look like a friendly butterfly,” Meladee accused.
“I have not had the pleasure of interaction with organic beings for thirty-seven years.” Eva failed to admit that even when she did interact with organic beings, she’d been called standoffish. Though it shouldn’t count, she added her downtime to her estimate. “One hundred and thirty-seven if I consider my hibernation.”
“You are the loneliest, saddest thing I’ve ever met.”
“Beside yourself,” Eva retorted.
Meladee stayed silent, forgoing a comeback.
Four hours later, they treked through necrotic flesh and the remains of old buildings.
The two women rounded a large building, half of one to be precise. The old, tumbled down warehouse stood without a roof and only two walls. Inside rested a gleaming ship. A robot beeped a greeting.
“We’re here,” Eva said.
Meladee’s mouth dropped open. She’d never seen a ship so beautiful. It was semi-circular and deep gray in color. The wings tapered, and a small nose and window betrayed the cockpit’s position. From the convex belly of the ship, extended an entryway, but the entrance faced away from Meladee and Eva. Meladee stood and stared, barely aware that Eva talked to the robots.
“This is…” Meladee could not find the words. Finally, she whispered, “What am I going to name it?”
Eva stepped into Meladee’s view. “They’ve cleaned the ship thoroughly and removed all traces of the flesh – most of which was necrotic. Much of the interior needs work, but the ship will function. They’ve replaced the worst of it with salvage, and they have only to install the superliminal drive.”
“Superli-what?”
“Superliminal drive. It allows the ship to travel faster than light. We would need it to travel between star systems. Useful since we want to take the ship outside the wormhole.”
“Can we get one?” Meladee questioned in disbelief.
Eva smiled. “They already have one. Unfortunately, it’s not the exact make and model we need. The replacement drive is for a much bigger ship, but I can convert the connections.” Eva glanced back at the ship. “You should also be aware that it’s something of a museum piece. An excellent one, but I’ll need to tinker with it nonetheless. Despite all of those issues, we’re very lucky. It turns out that this is a warehouse of ship parts, and it has quite the extensive basement.”
Meladee half-smiled. “So, let’s get to work. We’ve got to get Camellia.” And, Meladee just had to fly the ship.
I always wanted to stay in the world, the creature’s telepathic voice boomed.
Camellia concentrated on her defenses and controlled the stream of information. Battle plans, maps, crowds of people, and old ships streamed through her mind. Little versions of the creature peered back from a nest. People grabbed the tiny monsters and fled a battle. Then, alone and strapped to the underbelly of a ship, Camellia watched an ocean whizz sleepily by.
She realized that the large creature showed her its life. While it skipped quickly between the images, Camellia’s mind lingered on the nest. She’d seen small, eye-topped blobs. Some were still and already dead from cold or magic. Their color lacked vibrancy.
Camellia studied the memory, and the creature hissed. It offered her alternative images of dead and dying babies. Camellia hurried to block them but glimpsed one small infant, laying on its side near a drainage pipe.
Camellia took a deep breath and opened her eyes. She saw the floor symbol as if part of a dream. The creature clambered to communicate with her, but Camellia collected herself. With a shaking hand, she pulled Meladee’s scroll from her collar and found the talisman. It shimmered in green. At least, the parts that remained did. Pieces of it had gone.
“Oh,” she exclaimed, unsure whether Meladee’s work deteriorated on its own or if Lurren’s creature ate away at the spell.
This place is for talking! Talk or we’re finished. The creature showed her tiny, twittering birds. The first one to fall silent got smashed into a pile of bones, blood, and feathers.
Camellia knew it wasn’t wise to return to the subject, but she sent the first thought she could, Who took your children?
The creature didn’t answer.
So, Camellia tried a different approach. The Lurriens moved you here because they couldn’t think of some other way to stop you. Why not take you back through the wormhole?
Shifted. The creature answered. It treated Camellia to a reenactment of its complete journeys.
Before the Lurrens came to Iruedim, they lived in a dangerous space. Gigantic creatures roamed between the stars. A monster laid claim to nearly every planet. The only people with any free will traveled in ships. One ship located a wormhole. In desperation, they took it, unaware that Lurren’s creature hid aboard their escaping vessel. The nestling imagined itself destined for its very own world, hopeful that the beings would find one and take it there.
Lurren’s creature liked this topic, so Camellia ran with it. What an intrepid explorer you are.
The creature liked that too. It sent Camellia a smile. A fanged one, very like a smile that Ah’nee’thit had imagined. Did they possess mouths like that? Or were the images meant to remind her of a vampire’s grin?
Then, the creature continued, But, they discovered me.
Camellia struggled to remember what they had been talking about. Exploring, she reminded herself.
Yes, the creature agreed. They discovered me exploring.
Camellia watched the Lurrien war reenacted. Iruedian armies faced off against the creature, already grown larger than Ah’nee’thit. It grew bigger still. New tentacles bubbled from flesh. It made itself a nest for the eggs it had carried through the wormhole. Camellia saw the thing lay the eggs through a thick, wet orifice.
She shuddered. She knew her method of reproduction couldn’t be much better, but she didn’t plan on showing strangers the process.
The creature’s war enactment went on. Flesh captured the land. Followers flocked to the nest. They became automatons. The little creatures grew, becoming terrors in their own rights. The parent laid more eggs, despite the fact that the children had nowhere to go, no planets near enough to colonize. Little cults sprung up, but the parent’s cult remained dominant. The brainwashed followers called it Ul’thetos.
Ul’thetos.
That’s what you call me.
Did you choose it?
Ul’thetos didn’t answer. The war continued.
The Lurriens captured Ul’thetos and resolved to take it through the wormhole. Through Ul’thetos’ eyes, Camellia saw Lurrien faces. Speech bubbles surrounded the crowd, sharing thoughts and feelings. All of it grim. They strapped Ul’thetos to the underside of a ship and flew to the wormhole. From Ul’thetos’ point of view, Camellia watched the wormhole shift rapidly between locations. Ul’thetos could see more than the Lurriens. It glimpsed star systems, strange ships, and peoples. When the wormhole settled, Ul’thetos saw nothing.
No connection, Ul’thetos explained. That happens sometimes. So, the Lurriens had no choice and brought me here.
Again, Ul’thetos showed Camellia its view of the ocean as the Lurrien ship carried it away. She glimpsed a large box and then darkness.
Camellia registered that the Lurriens had put Ul’thetos in some kind of prison, but she pushed the image away. She wanted to know more about the wormhole.
What happens if you try to go through the wormhole, and it leads nowhere?
Ul’thetos answered Camellia’s question with a great telepathic sigh. Ul’thetos’ next statement was surprisingly thin. Only a word: Initiation.
Pressure followed, unlike any Camellia had blocked from her father. She struggled to maintain her will. She received messages and compulsions to leave the cave. Ul’thetos gave her two choices: the sea or a neighboring hollow. Camellia gripped Meladee’s faded scroll, crinkling the paper.
Wait, she implored. First, let me tell you about the world you live in. You barely got to see it.
I saw enough. Ul’thetos replayed the war scenes, focusing on a more advanced Groazan society.
Camellia wanted to linger there. Instead, she tried to show Ul’thetos more of the new Groaza and the other places she’d been. Ul’thetos plucked a handful of images: tropical gardens, Groazan cathedrals, and shops in Suen. Camellia offered images of Ah’nee’thit, but Ul’thetos rejected them.
Pressure began to build.
No! Camellia objected.
Her pleas didn’t help. Ul’thetos urged Camellia to exit the cave and find the hollow. Ul’thetos had made the choice for her.
Wait. Camellia wilted under the pressure. If thoughts could be whispered, those that followed were. You – who will have nothing to do for centuries, trapped here – should do everything in your power to seek entertainment.
Ul’thetos answered with silence. Some of the pressure lifted. Camellia interpreted that to mean – go on.
I’m an anthropologist. I can give you puzzles about the world, and you can discover the answers yourself. I have years of experience. I can play that game a long time.
Ul’thetos’ response came slow. It pulled at Camellia’s memories, calling out snapshots, checking to see if she lied. When it stopped, Camellia’s mind and the beach went quiet.
Camellia put a hand to her temple. She savored the relief.
Let’s play. Weave me a puzzle. There’s time for initiation later.
Camellia took a shuddering breath. Don’t peek, she warned.
A distant cacophony of giggles rose and faded, but Ul’thetos allowed her the space to craft her game.
Camellia took a deep breath and designed her first puzzle. She recalled a starship dig. The ruins of three different ships sat, parked in a ring. The first ship was green and shaped like a swooping hawk. The second ship resembled a spearhead, its rear made up of interlocked rings. The third and final ship was a disc paired with two cylindrical engines. All could be traced to the same date, but the designs were vastly different. Broken pots and a small refuse dump told of a settlement next to the ring of ships. Further off, a graveyard of bones possessed several skeletons, no two exactly alike. Camellia let her mind linger over the bones, playing over the skulls and pelvises especially. What peoples lived here?
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A thrill of excitement announced Ul’thetos’ willingness to play. Three different peoples, all interbred. I find the distinct species?
Yes, Camellia agreed. She knew there were more than three species. One ship carried a variety of people. She thought the trick in the question would suit a being such as Ul’thetos. Camellia sheltered her thoughts and waited.
Meladee sat outside the shipyard. On the horizon, she watched automatons perform their moisturizing duties. Eva and all of the robots worked inside the ship. They left Meladee to watch for trouble. At the sight of the automatons, Meladee planned ahead.
She moved concealed between spots of rubble and created a perimeter of spells – traps. For each trap she laid, she stopped and took a moment of introspection, almost like a prayer. With closed eyes, Meladee stood and imagined a hazy version of each circle. She left the circles shimmering faintly in the dirt.
Meladee let her creativity flow. She started with simple ice spikes and walls. When she’d laid enough simple spells, she invented her own, including a firecracker of ice, icy vines, and one icy fireball. Meladee had been something of a pyromaniac before Ah’nee’thit forced her to take up ice magic. She wasn’t sure if it was possible for firecrackers and fireballs to be made of ice, but just the same, her circles coalesced.
We’ll have to see how those turn out. Meladee placed her final spell, the ice dragon, just ahead of the ship’s entrance. I hope you aren’t infected. And, I hope it isn’t a mistake to summon you.
With a perimeter established, Meladee walked back to the ship and sat down. She opened the bag – gifted by Camellia – a magic bag that could hold more than it seemed. Meladee had never been able to afford one before, and it was strange to reach inside a seemingly empty bag and pull out any of her belongings.
I’ve already forgotten what half of them are.
But, Camellia had assured the pilot that if she forgot what she put inside, she could just empty the bag. Meladee reached in and pulled out her spell book. She sketched out the three new spells she had invented. She mused that she might start a whole line of crazy ice magic – if they made a career of fighting Lurrien monsters.
Meladee stopped. I’m still going to be with these two in a few months. Camellia and Eva.
Meladee thought of the Rime Breaker, the ice ship she had left behind. It was a pattern for Meladee. She left a string of companions in her wake.
The first time she left her village to the mercy of a vampire. A young Meladee practiced her spellcraft in the woods. She encountered the stranger and just managed to escape. She never warned anyone. She only returned to find their bodies, dry and desiccated. She mistook her sister and mother for mounds of jerky.
After she left her dead village, Meladee served on an ice ship: the Rime Breaker. She’d been one of the Captain’s favorites, earning herself a private room and use of the Captain’s mess and head. Nothing nefarious went on between her and the Captain, but she certainly had her fill of the crew, especially the ship’s surgeon. The man put up with her promiscuity and hoped one day to secure her fidelity. But, Meladee had been on the Rime Breaker for one person only. She stayed till the Captain died.
Meladee’s following attempt at companionship earned her an enemy in the form of Alastronia, and this bridge just wouldn’t burn. Meladee was sick of Agaric ‘healing.’ Sick of thinking about it. Sick of hearing about it. And, very sick of doing it.
Maybe, Camellia’s magic hell mirror would trap Alastronia somewhere deep in her own mind’s puzzle. Meladee hoped so, but she doubted it. She’d been thinking about that mirror, and she wondered if it wasn’t some kind of self-introspection device, like a dangerous self-help book.
Meladee sighed. Her life without the Agaric Healers led her to Faustina – a ship that stood for freedom and safety. Yet, Meladee had left the ship in a gruesome landscape.
For the sake of these two. Meladee thought of Camellia and Eva. She glanced at their new ship. She could be okay without Faustina because these new things might be just right.
That’s right, Camellia congratulated.
She let the images of each distinct species fade from her mind. She wanted to sleep or, at least, rest.
Ul’thetos applied pressure, and Camellia saw images of long needles. They poked into and through balloons.
Camellia winced. Why did this even occur to you?
Another puzzle, Ul’thetos called greedily. Momentarily, it forgot their truce and tried to poke around Camellia’s mind for the next game.
Stop! You’ll wreck the fun. Camellia served Ul’thetos her own imagery. She pictured a beautiful pink cake and a reaching tentacle. She slapped it.
Ul’thetos grumbled in ancient words.
Satisfied, Camellia began the next game.
On a wood table, a collection of four tomes laid side by side. Each tome described the ideals of the same religious order, yet each was different. Four different versions together told the story of a changing people and what they found important. Camellia recalled the center tome – a tribute to all things selfish and dark. Another tome lauded total selflessness and service. The third tome espoused a similar mentality but allowed for morally upright selfish acts, like marriage and child rearing. The final tome spoke of selfishness and selflessness in balance. All tomes shared the same date, copied by some careless monk before the foundation of the AAH. To him, it had been enough to preserve the words, not their history.
In what order were these tomes created? Camellia summoned the words of the tomes. She had read them enough to memorize a portion of each, especially the important bits. She let the creature enter her mind to examine the words. She sprinkled the clues among the scripture.
In one of the lower decks of the ship, Eva closed the access panel to the superliminal drive. She stepped back from the glass to admire her work. The superliminal drive lay between the sublight engines. Three big cylinders framed by two smaller cylinders. The drive extended into the back of the ship, where it pointed outwards to provide propulsion.
Eva surveyed the rest of the Engineering deck. Some robots worked on the main Engineering station. It stood at the deck’s center and faced the engines. Eva thought she would spend most of her time there. Other stations surrounded the center console, hugging the wall. On the far wall, rested the auxiliary helm.
Eva counted her robots. Only three worked in Engineering. She crossed to the ladder and stepped down.
Below Engineering, sat cargo. Once an empty space, six robots worked to load supplies from the warehouse, mostly spare ship parts. The hatchway stood open to the outside. Eva saw Meladee sitting at its base, but she didn’t call to her friend.
Eva still needed to find five robots. She climbed the ladder and passed the Engineering deck.
She reached the living quarters. Five robots cleaned the area, anticipating the needs of organic beings. One swept a small lounge while another moved between the four bedrooms. Still, another worked in the toilet. Eva drew back in disgust when she saw how deep the little robot had gone. Eva left the aft end of the ship and walked towards the fore. On her way, she passed the kitchen and found one robot testing a freezer.
Eva continued and entered the bridge. The final robot polished a wide window. Eva counted three stations: the center helm, the copilot and navigation station, and the weapons station. Eva stroked the controls.
“It looks good,” Eva said. “May I interrupt you to test it?”
The robot moved aside, and Eva sat down. She activated the ship, and the lights came on. Eva smiled. The ship hummed to life, much like the fighter she had pulled out of the flesh only a few weeks earlier. Eva paused to process her next thoughts.
The ships were similar but not the situations. For the fighter, she had been alone. To use Meladee’s words, ‘The loneliest and saddest thing.’ Then, Eva hadn’t considered herself lonely or sad. In fact, after the organics had disappeared, she abandoned the notion of loneliness – though every robot around could be its definition.
Eva’s new situation proved different. She had Meladee and Camellia. She wasn’t alone, and she remembered what it felt like to feel anything but lonely. She didn’t need organics the same way the other robots did. They needed organics to order them about, as sad as that reality was. Eva needed organics because she was more like them. The thought bothered Eva. She’d always wanted to be just a robot, but she had to admit, she wasn’t.
Eva missed her creator – the organic she owed most of her companionship too. Called by the creature, the woman had gone, and Eva could find no trace of her. She assumed that her creator was either an automaton or long dead.
I will not let the same happen to Meladee or Camellia, and I will not leave the other robots here to suffer. I will fix this.
Eva hurried through the rest of her tests. A ship with three decks. It was more than she’d ever dreamed, and she wasn’t going to waste it.
Right again, Camellia conceded. She sighed, relieved to let the texts fall back into her memory.
Ul’thetos lingered over its accurate timeline, and Camellia took the opportunity to rest. Ul’thetos couldn’t be stumped and moved through the puzzles fast. Camellia wondered if it loved the games enough to give her some time to rest. But, if she asked, she feared Ul’thetos would send the compulsion again. It wanted her to enter another cave. She knew something lurked there.
Puzzle, Ul’thetos demanded.
Camellia hurried to begin.
She recalled a dig site. It uncovered an artificial wormhole maker. In the dirt, lay a giant ring – in pieces – some of which were missing. Wind and water had worn away inscriptions on the ring. This puzzle would be simple. A literal puzzle in fact. Other pieces of the ring, as well as pieces from a second ring, had been located in museums and collectors’ houses. Camellia challenged Ul’thetos to reconstruct the ring from all the pieces. Ul’thetos needed to consider both the first and second rings. Ul’thetos would have to build two puzzles and compare them to find the full set of symbols.
Camellia held the puzzle in her mind and left Ul’thetos to work. Camellia’s head hurt. She opened her eyes and looked down at the cult symbol. With bleary eyes, she stared, not understanding a smidgen of the interior, geometric design. And, not caring.
The pounding in Camellia’s head faded. Her open eyes helped to dissipate the headache, and she wished she could just leave them open. But, for this game, she found it easier to craft puzzles with her eyes closed. Usually, she worked on archaeological puzzles with her eyes open, and when her head began to hurt, she closed her eyes. This scenario was the opposite. Without her sight, she crafted puzzles, and to rest, she opened her eyes. It was all very confusing, and Camellia longed for some simple pleasure.
Like a trip through the wormhole. Camellia smiled. The wonders I’ll see.
Oh, the wonders…I doubt it. I suspect there’ll be nothing – again. Ul’thetos laughed. I’m getting bored of this. Why don’t you come be initiated? You’re not leaving.
Ul’thetos showed Camellia its idea of paradise, not entirely unlike Ah’nee’thit’s. Camellia would be high priestess, though she would be more puppet than valued leader. In the vision, Camellia led automatons over dry flesh. They sprinkled water, like monks caught in an eternal ritual.
I’d rather have Ah’nee’thit’s deal. Camellia would have to copulate with an infected high priest, but at least, she’d have some semblance of autonomy.
Ul’thetos barked a laugh. What? Ah’nee’thit? No one picks my child’s order over mine.
Well, we do now.
Ul’thetos’ communication turned cold. I know there are others here, and they want the ruins.
Ul’thetos showed Camellia surveillance of her friends. She saw their work on a silver ship.
Camellia put her face in her hands. How long have you known?
Automatons converged on the ship.
Not for me. You didn’t come for me. Ul’thetos sent an ocean of thoughts Camellia’s way.
Camellia glimpsed only an impression: wailing and exhaustion.
Though she was tired, she closed off communication. She imagined herself in the windowless tower. Before she went too deep, she opened her eyes one last time and looked at the talisman. Patchy and barely shimmering, the scroll rested nearby, still offering whatever help it could. Camellia closed her eyes.
Ul’thetos’ wails faded, and Camellia found herself surrounded by the shadowy objects. This time she could see old toys, clothes, and artifacts. All things she had used or handled, and each had a memory attached to it. Camellia stood at the center and waited.
A distant question whispered through the walls, If Ah’nee’thit wanted you, shouldn’t I? I see how far it chased you.
Ah’nee’thit wouldn’t be too happy about that, Camellia whispered back. Please finish the puzzle. You have all the pieces.
Ul’thetos ignored the quiet suggestion.
Meladee jumped as several of her perimeter spells discharged at once. An ice wall exploded into being, and Meladee watched several automatons fly through the air, propelled by the wall’s sudden appearance. An unfortunate automaton flew onto the iceball spell, and the magic circle belched a frosty mass of fire. Another automaton found the icecracker, and the snowy firework carried the monster into its companions, crackling the whole way. Icey stalagmites shot up and speared many automatons.
Meladee ran into the ship. “They’re attacking!”
Her words didn’t reach Eva’s ears. Eva wasn’t on the cargo deck. Robots stopped and stared at Meladee. Then, they panicked, filling the cargo deck with sound.
Meladee ran to the ladder and started up. Perched on the ladder, Meladee watched robots streamed out the hatch. “Where are you going? Safety is this way!”
The robots sped outside, beeping and burbling the whole way. One rolled over Meladee’s dragon circle and summoned the beast.
The dragon came into being. It looked unharmed and nothing like an automaton.
“Monsters!” Meladee called. “Leave the robots alone!”
The dragon set its eyes on the automatons. It looked angry.
Meladee finished her climb.
In Engineering, she found Eva at the main console. She joined Eva and watched the hold’s hatch close on a screen.
“All of your friends just ran outside,” Meladee said.
“I’m not surprised. We’re not really friends. I wouldn’t even be surprised if Tiny Tin and the others did the same.”
Meladee could think of nothing to say.
Eva activated a camera on the outside of the ship. A screen showed the robots, mid-flight.
Without emotion, Eva said, “There they go.”
Meladee’s ice dragon walked in front of the camera and blocked their view.
Meladee grabbed Eva’s shoulder. “We have to get Camellia.”
Eva nodded. She ran for the ladder. “We’ll go to the bridge. We’re ready to fly.” Eva climbed.
Meladee followed. She emerged by the bridge and scrambled inside. As soon as she crossed the threshold, Eva pushed her into the pilot’s seat. Eva took the copilot’s chair.
Meladee frowned. “Are you sure? I only just learned this setup an hour ago.”
“Yes, you’re a good pilot, and I may need to get to Engineering or Weapons. You have to fly the ship.”
Meladee took the controls. The ship already hummed, and Meladee eased it up and out of the warehouse. She flew slow but smooth. Once she gained some altitude, she picked up speed.
“Give me a direction. I don’t know where I’m going.”
Eva hit some buttons. She scanned Lurren. “These are the beach’s coordinates.”
Numbers appeared on Meladee’s screen. She recognized them, although Lurriens used a slightly different notion. The ship plotted a course, giving Meladee a general direction to fly. Meladee steered for it. Eva exited her seat and ran to the weapons console.
“What are you doing?” Meladee asked.
“I think I located this thing’s tentacles.”
Meladee didn’t understand Eva’s ominous words, until she looked ahead. A hill rose and slowly unfurled. Shots hit the hill, and it recoiled. Then, it unfolded and stretched. Meladee dodged around the tentacle. More shadowy forms broke from the landscape. They rose and darkened the sky. Hanging from the tentacles were smaller rivers of flesh, crisscrossing the sky like red tree branches.
“I have to fly through this?!” Meladee squealed.
“I’ll shoot at them, but yes, you have to fly through it. Don’t let any touch us.” Again, Eva fired, and three branches recoiled.
Meladee slipped into the tentacled forest. She dodged up and down. She turned the ship sideways and curled her toys, worried she might fall out of her seat. But, she didn’t. Meladee broke into an open area, covered by a tentacled ceiling.
“I wish we’d converted the weapons to freeze rays. We could have used that right now,” Eva said.
“I can help with that, if you steer for a minute. Hurry.” Ahead, Meladee saw another thick stretch.
Eva came to Meladee’s side and took hold of the controls. Meladee remained in the pilot’s chair, but let go of the steering.
She closed her eyes, concentrated, and conjured a magic circle. The circle expanded and worked its way to the hull.
Meladee sighed. “Ship’s ice enchanted – at least for a few minutes.” Meladee snatched the controls and dipped under a swiping tentacle. “Now, freeze these things. I’d love if they were stationary.”
Eva reclaimed the weapons station and fired. The wriggling branches froze, waving only with the breeze.
“Nice.” Meladee flew through the frozen branches. She slowed to weave around the twigs.
Ahead, Meladee saw a large tentacle move to block their exit. “Can you get that?”
“Yes.” Eva fired.
Patches of ice sprouted on the behemoth branch, but the tentacle didn’t stop.
“Do I need to turn back?” Meladee cried. “Cause we’re going to hit that, and I don’t think we’ll win.”
“No. Keep going. I’ll freeze it.” Eva fired a new weapon: a torpedo.
The torpedo hit the tentacle, and ice spread rapidly over its skin. The limb froze just below their potential exit.
“Yeah!” Meladee flew out and over. “Path’s clear enough for a while. Hey, open the egg. We can make ourselves a little cold front, maybe deter the thing from grabbing the ship.”
“Good idea.” Eva left her seat and ran to the living space.
A moment later, cold spread, and Meladee shivered. She performed a warmth spell. She needed working hands if she planned to steer a spaceship for the first time ever.
Eva re-entered the bridge and sat at weapons.
“We’re coming up on a pretty bad area.” Meladee nodded ahead.
The creature had arranged its limbs to overlap, creating a web of tentacles and branches. It moved every limb to the trap, thickening the net.
Meladee frowned. “I really don’t know if we can get through that.”
“Go up,” Eva said. “Straight up and fast.”
Meladee pulled the steering, and the ship curved up. She accelerated. She shot through the clouds towards darkening sky. “Am I going in to space?”
“Precisely. We’ll see how far the creature can reach. Right now, I need to take care of an air leak.” Eva leapt from her seat and ran from the bridge.
“Eva? Air leak? I need air to breathe!” Meladee shouted.
Eva had already gone.
Meladee sighed and flew up. If the air around an airship grew thin, she could only imagine how thin the air neighboring space would be.
The ship’s sensors beeped and showed her a web of tentacles in pursuit.
Meladee pushed the ship faster and cleared the atmosphere. The ship rocketed away from Iruedim, and Meladee slowed. She leveled the ship and felt a distinct lack of resistance.
“Fuck. I don’t know what to do up here.” Meladee concentrated and tried to put the ship into orbit. In concentration, she stuck her tongue out. She almost had it.
The ship beeped and let her know she didn’t.
Meladee huffed. She angled down and flew back towards Lurren. She saw the continent from a staggering height, half-obscured by clouds. The creature’s frozen branches reached just outside the atmosphere.
“That’s how far it can go. I guess I’ll approach the beach from the other side. That ought to surprise it.”
“That’s a good plan,” Eva agreed as she returned.
Meladee glanced back. “What about the air leak?”
“I patched it. There were actually two, but I didn’t want to worry you. I’ll need to do a more complete job later. For now, let’s get Camellia.”
Meladee flew toward Iruedim.
Camellia found herself in her father’s lake. At first, she felt calm; then as she struggled for air, she panicked.
Initiation a distant voice promised.
Camellia fought for the surface and reached for the tree that had saved her from the real lake.
It won’t be here this time.
Bubbles floated to the surface, and Camellia thought they may have contained familiar faces: Adalhard, Meladee, Eva, Cerunnos, her father, sisters, and…mother. What a sense of humor Ul’thetos has.
Ul’thetos and Ah’nee’thit both had in common a respect for her attempted suicide.
I attracted these things to me. I might deserve this.
Camellia could breathe again. The lake was gone. She knelt in Ul’thetos’ cave. She took a deep breath, and then, she felt compelled to stand. Camellia knew which cave to seek. She rose, turned, and walked to the exit. She took only the things she wore, her clothes and bag. She left Meladee’s paper, now blank, fluttering beside the cult seal.
Meladee refused to land, so Eva just opened the cargo hatch and jumped.
Eva landed on white sand, raised her com to her mouth, and called to Meladee, “Go. Don’t hover here. I’ll call you back.”
The ship flew away, and the hatch closed as it went.
Far off, on the horizon, the creature’s tentacles waved. They searched for something to grab. Judging from how high those tentacles reached, the creature might touch the beach. But, it didn’t know where they were. If the creature had eyes – other than automatons – it couldn’t use them.
Eva searched the beach and found it clear. She looked out to the water and startled. Tentacles rose from the south sea, waving, long and supple, a closer match to Ah’nee’thit’s.
“Oh no,” Eva breathed. She watched a beat longer, then turned away.
Where was Camellia? Eva ran down the beach. She raised her tablet and activated Camellia’s tracker. It still beeped, and it was close. The tracker pointed Eva towards the cliffside. Eva looked and saw dozens of tiny caves. She walked forward and aimed the tracker ahead. She would find the right one.
When she got too close for the tracker to give her any more details, she paused. She had nine or eleven caves to search. Eva stowed her tablet and ran into the first. It was dark, jagged, and seemed to breathe. A quiet squelch came from far back. Eva ran out, worried that she had just walked into the right cave. She hoped she hadn’t.
Before she could try another, she saw Camellia emerge.
“Camellia! Come on.”
Camellia didn’t take notice. Her pale complexion and almost black hair, coupled with the white sand and grey rock, made Camellia seem the subject of a black and white photograph. Camellia strolled on the sand and walked into another cave.
Eva bolted after. She entered the cave too. The cave was too dark, and Eva took a moment to activate her night vision. As her eyes made the adjustment, Eva put her hand on the cave wall. It was rough and damp. Eva withdrew her hand, and she listened. She heard Camellia’s breath, and an instant later, she saw her friend.
Camellia stared ahead.
Eva grabbed her arm. “It’s time to go.”
Camellia tried to walk deeper, but Eva held her in place.
“Now,” Eva growled.
“But, I’m supposed to visit Ul’thetos,” Camellia said in a dreamy voice. She pointed ahead.
Eva looked into the darkness and nearly jumped.
A converter hovered there. At least, half of one did. Its waist rose from a mound of flesh, and moist tentacles protruded from its shoulders and back. From under a cover of tight flesh, a Lurrien face stared back. Eva could make out the shape of the eyes, nose, and mouth, but there were no holes for such things.
Camellia, discovered the slack in Eva’s once tight grip. She walked a step closer.
Eva pulled her back. “No! We’re leaving Iruedim. Come on.”
“Iruedim…”
“Right, we’re leaving. We’re going to the wormhole. You’re going to love it there,” Eva said. “New peoples. Different species. Spaceships and new planets. Stars.”
Camellia’s head dipped. “Oh, the wormhole. I really want to see that.”
Eva dragged her friend out of the cave.
The converter screamed, but the flesh that covered its mouth muffled the sound.
As Eva got them back into the light, she pulled out her com and called for Meladee.
With a thump, Camellia landed on a metal floor. All her illusions had gone. She saw no more sea, no more wars, and no more future with Ul’thetos. She looked skyward and saw a metal ceiling. She narrowed her eyes.
Eva hovered nearby. “Camellia?”
“Where are we?” Camellia asked.
“Spaceship in space. Meladee is going to stop somewhere outside Iruedim’s gravity.”
“Oh, the silver ship. The semi-circle. The one that looks like half a cookie.” Camellia remembered her glimpse of the ship, courtesy of Ul’thetos.
Eva frowned. “Half a cookie? It hardly resembles organic foodstuffs.” Then, Eva stabbed Camellia in the arm.
“Oh!” Camellia curled around her arm. “What was that for?”
“It’s a needle. Intravenous dose of the anti-infection medicine. Were you good about taking your medicine?” Eva asked.
“I think so.”
“You had better be right.” Eva made the accusation with more than a hint of concern.