Sotir was exceptionally busy, and Pan knew this because he hadn’t played the lovers card on her in two weeks. Highly unlike him.

Pan watched as he sat at the table in his quarters.

Sotir’s eyes glazed, but he was at work. The crystal ball rested on the table in a wooden stand. Cards lay flung around the tabletop, looking used. Sotir even had his scrying disc out, but he hadn’t consulted it in hours. Sotir was checking all of the possible routes ahead, searching for Volanter on the path to the wormhole. And, searching for the Volanter clan home, where the genetic contract lay in wait.

Pan sat at the table too, head in hand. She drew her dragon. She had given up drawing nightmares for a couple of years, but old habits died hard. Here was her new nightmare, a very personal one. It had slaughtered Volanter twice, though she felt better about the second time.

Pan looked away from the drawing and checked again on Sotir’s progress. He drew too. All his fortune telling tools lay scattered about, making room for his paper. As he charted paths home, he slid a ruler over the page and dragged the pencil at its side.

Pan counted the paths on his map six. Little ‘speech bubbles’ marked where they would encounter Volanter and described the nature of that encounter. For the really bad encounters, Sotir used red ink. At the end of the paths, Sotir drew a circle – the wormhole. Pan searched for the clan home but could not find it.

Sotir scribbled away. He was an artist of a kind. He didn’t make pictures. He made something quite a bit more useful.

Their doorbell rang.

Pan and Sotir both straightened. She looked into his eyes, and he into hers.

Pan scooped up her pencils and paper. “Should I hide?”

Sotir stood up. “Yes, definitely. It’s way too late for you to be here.”

“Who is it?” Pan held her drawing things in her arms, but she hadn’t moved from the table.

Sotir didn’t answer her question. He just gave her a shove towards the bedroom.

Pan hurried into the room and closed the door. She dropped her things on the bed, but then, she rushed back to the door and put her ear against it.

“Hey, you want to hang out a bit?” Hagen!

“I’m supposed to be working,” Sotir said.

“I asked Alban if you could take a break. He said fine; he was kind of grumbly about it, but why question him?” Footsteps sounded on the other side of the door. “So, which way are we going to take?”

More footsteps. “I’m thinking either the long windy path on the far right, or one of the center paths. They’re everywhere – the Volanter that is.” Sotir’s voice was low.

“What about the clan home?”

Pan struggled to hear the answer.

“And do what? Rush in and steal the contract? We have no concept of what it even entails. It’s likely just genetic material to help them locate us. Not that they need it. They took one look at us and knew who we were.” Sotir stepped around the table, and his footsteps took on a higher timbre. He’d entered the kitchen. “I’m not confident at all about our route. If Pan relearns the time message, and if we run into trouble, maybe we can try multiple paths.”

Pan sat a little stiffer. She knew she’d forgotten something. She silently promised Sotir that she’d get right on that.

“Hey, let me ask you.” Hagen’s voice again. He pulled out a chair, and Pan heard it squeak across the floor. “What are you doing with her? You know that is such an incredibly bad move, right?”

“Excuse me?” Sotir’s voice was louder than any of the previous times he’d spoke.

“You have to sacrifice a lot to be with her, and let’s be honest, she’s not that great. She’s got a bad temper. She’s crazy powerful. How can you be comfortable sleeping next to her, let alone having her handle your future children? How can you trust someone like that?” Hagen asked.

Pan looked at her lap. She let her ear drift a few inches from the door.

“I am perfectly comfortable sleeping beside her, and I will be perfectly comfortable sharing children with her. What do you think she does for fun? Kill babies?” Sotir had never sounded so angry. Though, he still fell far short of Pan’s angriest.

The sound of a cork popped beyond the door.

“I don’t know,” Hagen said. “I couldn’t do it. I haven’t told anyone you’re sleeping with her, but I get the feeling that Chara and Kat know. Alban too.”

“They probably do. And, don’t get too comfortable.”

“What? I can’t stay? Don’t you want a drink?” Hagen asked.

“No, but I won’t tell anyone you’re drinking on the job,” Sotir said.

“She’s got some weird dreams.”

Pan didn’t want to, but she pressed her ear close.

“How many of her dreams have you entered?” Sotir asked.

A pause followed. Then, a glass clinked on the table. “More than she accused me of.”

“What did you see?”

Hagen answered, “Well, there’s the ones with you in them. They’re normal enough.” Another splash of liquid met glass.

“Tell me about the weird ones,” Sotir said.

Yes, tell us about the weird ones.

Hagen continued, “So, she dreams about ghosts a lot. Real weird things, where she’s got to get out of a house or turn on a light and there are these twisted things stalking her. I can see why she dreams about those things, but a normal person would wake up from these dreams sweating. They’re nightmares, and I would get kicked out. She doesn’t wake up. She stays in the nightmare.” Hagen paused. “It’s eerie.”

“She spent her life trying to solve those kinds of puzzles. If you want to spook me, try something else,” Sotir said.

“Alright, she dreams about Brynn, still. She dreams about Brynn giving her advice.”

Pan could remember one of those dreams. She had been desperate to get advice from Brynn and had woken to her ghost sight circle, cast in her sleep. Luckily, no one dead lurked nearby.

Hagen had more, “And, she had dreams about the dragon. Not nightmares. She dreams from the view of the dragon. People in her jaws. Flesh under her claws. I saw the dragon floating through space, as if nothing could keep it from…” A medium pause followed. “It’s disturbing. Less like a dream and more like a memory.”

Now, there was a long pause. Pan could imagine Sotir standing beside the table, giving weight to Hagen’s words.

“What are you trying to say?” Sotir asked.

“I don’t know. I’m just worried about you. She’s a…reaper.”

“I don’t fear her, Hagen. And, I’ve seen our future together. She’s not going to become a killer, and she’ll be a good mother and wife. I just can’t see what you’re saying.”

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Hagen huffed. “The first dream I entered – she was at the zoo. You were there, her old mentors were there, everyone. She spotted me, and before she knew it was a dream, she tried to coax me to the Tari’s cage – just for overhearing.”

Another long pause followed. “That’s…concerning.” Sotir continued, “Still, it’s not concerning enough to stop me.”

“Alright, forget I said anything.” As Hagen got up, the chair scraped back, and Pan heard him take the bottle. “I’ve got to work tonight too. I’m searching for more Volanter dreams, now that I’ve thoroughly explored the Iruedians.”

“Good luck,” Sotir said, no longer sounding mad.

Pan suddenly did not want to spend the night. She stumbled to her feet, hurried to the bed, and gathered up her things. Her hands shook as she searched her bracelet for the right picture. She found it, cast the portal, and pulled it around herself, just as she heard Sotir’s steps at the door.

She stood in her own quarters, alone with the stuffed animals that she’d used to get through the lonely waypoint hours. She put her things down and waited.

He would come to her door, and he would ask her what happened. He’d know what happened, but he’d ask just the same.

Pan looked once again at her wrist. On her bracelet, she had a picture of the cargo bay that she used to train. She would take this sleepless night to relearn the time message. Maybe, she could go back and unhear everything.

Chapter 28: The Choice

Irini squeezed into the front of the crowd and nodded her thanks to Sotir.

“You’re welcome,” he answered.

Irini faced forward and perused the view she couldn’t see before Sotir gave her a front row place.

Hundreds of crew gathered, aboard the Ischryos, in the aptly named gathering room. A large window let in starlight. A screen waited at the back of the room, dipping from the ceiling, where it could be shut away.

Alban had set up the gathering room by removing chairs and tables. He’d made enough space for a crowd of Iruedians and Scaldin to gather.

Irini saw all of the arcanes, and all of Rooks’ odd little collection of special forces, if anthropologists and engineers could be called special forces. There were a bunch of crew members from both ships, representatives of each area.

Alban and Rooks stood at the back of the room. They waited by the screen, ready to take control of the roaring crowd.

With a gesture from Alban, the room started to quiet. Rooks gestured for her side to be quiet, and together they got the noise down.

It was quiet enough for Irini to hear Alban say, “After you.”

Rooks stood tall. “We’re only three weeks away from our goal, but standing in our way are obstacles. We must choose which of these paths will be the least likely to end our journey.”

Ooo, ominous. Irini shivered.

She got a pat on the shoulder from Sotir and a touch of comfort from Pan.

Alban aimed a remote at the screen and clicked.

The once dark screen showed Sotir’s map of the routes, made by hand. Six paths led from their location to a circle at the top, labeled wormhole. Straight lines made up every path, with some zigs and zags thrown in for large course changes. Little bubbles of words marked problematic points.

Alban stood alongside the map. “I know half of you can’t read this as Pan’s little spell didn’t extend to writing. So, allow me to translate the Scaldin and review the map with you.” With a laser, Alban pointed at the first path – most direct. “This is the shortest path. It’ll actually get us home within two weeks, not three. However, Sotir informs me that here is where we can find the entrance to the Volanter’s personal dimension out of time.”

Alban exchanged a look with Rooks.

“That one’s off the table,” Alban said.

Mumbles started to move through the room.

Alban held up a hand. “I know. I know. You’re all thinking – what about the genetic contracts? Shouldn’t we secure whatever those things are? I can assure you; they’re nothing but some samples of our non-Volanter ancestors. Bits of hair and skin. Yes, they could do something with these contracts – make diseases, tailor weapons to our persons. But, they won’t bother. They would rather catch us with force – er…magic. It’ll make more sense for us to flee homeward. Any questions?”

Some did have questions. Irini didn’t hear most of them, as only Rooks and Alban had been fitted with a microphone. Irini tuned them out. She stared at the map and wished she’d had a clear answer about the best path. She didn’t. Her golden thread thought the entire situation was bad. It couldn’t pick a path.

“Moving on.” Rooks gestured for Alban to continue.

Alban pointed his laser at the next path. “Second, we have this looping path. It seems the Volanter have set traps along it. It makes sense since it’s so close to their special place. The third and fourth choices weave through patrols and other more mundane obstacles in space. Sotir assures me that the patrols are quite a bit more powerful than the Volanter we’ve encountered thus far. Though, they’re probably not the worst this venerable species has to offer.”

Irini’s thread especially hated the trapped path. That one could not be a choice. She wasn’t sure why Alban gave it time.

“Fifth path.” Alban put the little red light over a wiggly way. “We’ll die. Plain and simple. Not sure how, but it’ll be a quick death.” Alban shrugged. “Finally, we have the sixth path. Along this path are others like us. Two planets – at least that our fortune teller can find.” Alban lowered his little pointer. He nodded to Rooks.

“It seems like the sixth path would be our best option, but we’re entertaining the third and fourth.” Rooks glanced at her anthropologists. “As intriguing as it would be to meet others like us, I don’t think it’s worth the risk. Our reconnaissance shows that they have considerable traffic between their worlds, and the path is narrow. We’re almost certain to encounter someone from that area. Sneaking by is not an option.”

Alban crossed his arms. “Plus, those ‘children’ are probably ass kissers. They’ve been here all this time. They might have been taken to the time bubble. No doubt, they were brainwashed there. We’re unlikely to get along.”

Rooks raised an eyebrow. “Right. So, patrols it is.”

Alban gestured to Irini. “Our little thread weaver can’t decide between the third and the fourth. Sotir can’t decide. So, we’re going to use some group wisdom. We’re going to vote and gage what kind of risk the crew wants to take.”

Irini lowered her gaze. So, her thread hated all the paths. It wasn’t her fault. Sotir couldn’t find the best route either. They’d bumbled into the Volanter, and the choices evaporated. Still, Irini wondered if she’d asked the wrong question: Which way to escape the Volanter?

Alban pulled out a tablet.

Rooks stood with hands behind her back. “Let’s prepare to vote. Representatives from each department will have the responsibility of voting for the members of their team. You’ve had your chance to discuss the situation. Please consider your comrades’ desires as well as your own. Now, let’s review what sets the third and fourth path apart from each other.”

A short moment of silence followed.

Eva spoke up, “I think the idea of the vote is a good one, but still, it doesn’t matter what risk we will take. The chances of slipping through are slim.”

The room went quiet as Eva paused.

Rooks, with narrowed eyes, urged Eva on.

“We’ll encounter the Volanter no matter which way we go, and they’ll be tougher to beat each time we encounter them.” Eva looked over the crowd. “As it stands, we have the upper hand. We just need to work it into a strategy. We need to decide what methods we’re willing to use, like Meladee’s decay spell. We may find that we have means that far outstrip theirs.”

Camellia’s eyes widened. “We’ve been researching magic without jumping onto a timeless plane. We’re generations ahead of them, and lightyears ahead of their ideas. But, they learn fast, and they’ll copy us the more exposure they get to our methods.”

Eva nodded.

“I’d like to see them copy my decay shield.” Meladee winced and waved her hands in denial. “Nah, nevermind. Forget I said that. That’s the spell I’d least like them to copy. They can have the spell for summoning the giant bunny instead.”

Rooks raised a hand. “We’re going to have a battle strategy of course, and our most dangerous magics will be included, ideally as a last resort.”

Alban scoffed at the notion, and he showed it, with his crossed arms and quiet snuff. Irini ignored him. She agreed with Rooks.

“The point is that the path doesn’t matter,” Eva said.

“So, take the shortest.” Pan piped up. “The one that goes by their home. Maybe, we could even attack it.”

Irini covered her mouth. All eyes moved to her. Actually the crew stared at Pan, but Irini stood right next to Pan.

The gazes grew unbearable, and the silence made it worse.

Alban cleared his throat. “You want to attack the stronghold? The stronghold of the people that gave us all our starts? That’s insane, Pan.”

“I don’t want them to follow us, and I don’t want them to impose themselves on others. And, most of all, I want them to live like we do. If we could break that bubble, it might make them see what it is that we don’t like about them.” Pan raised her eyebrows. “And, a chance to destroy those contracts. They might not have one for the Scaldin, but they said they have one for Iruedim. How can you just leave it?”

Rooks straightened and set a dark gaze on Pan. “We’re not prepared for that kind of a fight. We’re two ships. Their numbers are far greater. We don’t know exactly how much greater, but we know that we’re outnumbered.”

“But..” Pan began.

“Can I…just say something.” Camellia raised her hand. “They keep their children in the time bubble. That’s where all the families live. Now, if we could destroy the bubble without killing those inside, then I might agree with that plan. But, how would we do it?”

“Exactly,” Rooks agreed.

Alban cleared his throat. “Can’t win that fight anyway. Let’s get back to business.”

Irini stood stiff and still. She could feel Pan seething at her shoulder. Irini took deep breaths and prayed to go invisible, but her white hair stood out against the sea of grey around her. Irini couldn’t get her wish to be unseen, so she wished Pan would drop it.

Alban held his tablet aloft.

Rooks took a deep breath. “The third path is crisscrossed by asteroid fields. In fact, that’s where we think most of those Volanter patrols are hiding – in the fields. The fourth path doesn’t have any true obstacles along the way. Instead, it has a handful of habitable and uninhabitable planets. Again, perfect places for patrols to hide.” Rooks continued, “If we run into trouble in either location, we may need to hide for a while. Both paths present good opportunity for that.”

“Any questions?” Alban’s finger poised above his tablet.

No one ventured a question.

“You have a few minutes to discuss. Then, we’ll take the vote. If you need to call out to your teams, do that now,” Rooks said.

A few minutes laters, the vote finished. They would take the fourth path.