Pan rubbed her temple. “So, there’s an a powerful being trapped in a Volanter bubble, communicating with Camellia, and it’ll help us defeat the Volanter as long as we free it? How long were all of you talking to this thing?”
Sotir stroked his staff as he looked at one of Pan’s drawings. The drawing showed a view of stars and served as replacement for a window. “We didn’t speak all that long. But, Camellia has talked to it in secret. Don’t mention it to anyone, even if the topic should come up.”
“So, am I going to be expected to go rescue it?” Pan sidled up to Sotir and tried to catch his eyes.
Finally, he looked at her. He started with her face, but his eyes traveled down, as far as he could look. Slowly, he looked back up. “No, I don’t think you will, but someone like Irini might be able to track it down. I have a different reason for sharing this information with you.”
Pan crossed her arms. “Other than I should be informed of who I’m expected to fight with?”
Sotir focused on Pan and held his staff tight. “Other than that. You see…we are not immediately going to trust this being. We are giving it a series of tests, and if it can demonstrate its ability, I believe that is when we will seek it.”
Pan leaned close. She uncrossed her arms and reached for one of Sotir’s.
“Camellia gave it a test in secret – something personal. I believe she was pleased, or surprised, with the result. We gave this “Pen Pal” a test today – it sent a dream to Rooks and all the details were correct. There will be a third test. The being can emotionally heal…” Sotir stared into Pan’s eyes. “Who would you like it to heal?”
Pan felt her eyes go wide. “Aria. But, what do we do if Alban gives it a new test? Or, if someone gives it a test before we can ask Camellia for ours?”
“I have reason to believe she will try to give us the opportunity. Now, she doesn’t have the ultimate power in this situation, and she may be forced to ask for the third test sooner. If that happens, we can ask for help – not a test – but help. I have reason to believe this being would help, if asked with the proper respect.”
Pan clutched Sotir’s arm. “You’re a genius.”
He smiled and grimaced. “I’m an opportunist. There’s a difference.”
“We need to make an excuse to talk to Camellia now.” Pan whirled away.
“It’s night on Iruedim, Pan. The Adalhards will be home, and Florian will have control of the com. He will be the one to answer. He will be quite annoyed with us if we call for Camellia in the middle of the night.” Sotir stayed by the drawing.
“She’s a dhampir and partly nocturnal. She might answer the com.”
Sotir shook his head. “No. She will not. She needs extra sleep, and she seems content to let Florian handle most of their connections to the outer world at this time. The only reason she used the communication device is because it fell by her house, and she is a curious person.”
Pan hung her head. “So, she won’t answer, and Florian Adalhard will hang up on us.”
“That’s what I would do in his situation.”
Pan thought that if Sotir were in that situation, he would probably silence the com an hour or so before it rang. Pan would never know, unless he decided to complain about it the following day. Pan would say it never happened. He would disagree, and the call log would back him up.
Pan promised darkly, “First thing in the morning, I will call her.”
“First thing in the morning, we are fighting the Volanter.” Sotir headed for the bed. “I would sleep if I were you. We have about nine, maybe ten, hours before they arrive.”
Pan didn’t follow him to the bed. “We’ll lose Aria then.”
“Why do you say that? It’s far from certain.” Sotir cocked his head and paused undressing.
“She did it again today. She has never failed at any attempt, unless I interrupted it. She has her heart set on being a ghost. Though, when I search, she’s not around even in that capacity.” Pan extended her hand and reached for the far-off light in their room. She tried to flick it off with telekinesis. She remembered that her powers didn’t work like that anymore. She would need to call the circle if she wanted to move anything, and she had not perfected moving something that small with the circle.
Sotir crossed the room and took Pan’s hand. “There are too many moving parts for me to predict how this war will turn out. There are too many moving parts for me to see much beyond our immediate lives. And, that bothers me. But, I’m doing my best, and that will include my best for Aria. I know you’ll do the same.”
Pan nodded and put a hand to her eyes. “Wait…we can heal her mind, but what about her body?” Pan took her hand from her eyes and watched him for an answer.
Sotir shook his head. “I don’t know. We’ll have to leave that half to medical professionals.” Sotir wrapped her in a hug. “I wonder if we should let Gavain know at this point. He wants her home, and he might be able to help. He might even come get her if he wasn’t caught up in negotiations…and mad.”
Pan tangled her fingers in his shirt. “You don’t understand. Gavain can’t help her. I can’t help her. Ever since our last adventure – the one with that stupid mirror – it’s like there’s no one home.”
“Eva…Evaaaaaa,” Tiny Tin called down the hall.
Eva sat in her workshop, flipping through some reports, when she saw something about a powerful being locked up by the Volanter. Eva felt heat rise through her mechanisms. “What?”
“The nanites worked on Wheelian. His arm repaired itself. Also, Sten is looking for you.”
Eva shifted her gazed from her tablet to Tiny Tin.
Tiny Tin’s digital eyes feigned wideness. “Has Sten displeased you enough to receive silent treatment from the household?”
“No. I’m reading a report that makes no sense, and if it’s true, we have no business messing around with it. I voted to let that com device be.” Eva tossed down the tablet. “You said Sten was looking for me?”
“Yes. You’ll find him in the living space.” Tiny Tin rolled into the workshop. “I’m going to key the nanites to my structure now. If I damage my treads tonight, I will not be able to roll away. You will find me here.”
“Damage yourself when we don’t have a war going on above our heads, and some extradimensional being seducing our people.” Eva strode past Tiny Tin, but she paused and returned. Eva stroked his eye stalks from the tops down to the metal wires, until her hand came to rest on his box.
“What was that for?” Tiny Tin asked, narrowing his digital eyes.
“Be careful…you, this place, and the others are my most precious things.”
Tiny Tin inclined his eye stalks. “I am cold in my experiments but always careful.”
Eva left him to the work. She walked the halls on the search for Sten. She wondered what trouble the restless android would get up to now. If he wasn’t playing with the brain box, he might be designing new androids. Or, he might be studying her schematics, finding all the little details that Cereus put in.
Eva did not know why he couldn’t just focus on Lurren. They had plenty to do, plenty to build.
Like Chrysanthos, Sten presented a complicated relationship, tainted by all the artificial hang-ups Eva possessed, and gifted with all the nuance that her organic companions demanded of her.
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Her relationships with Tiny Tin and the other little robots were simple. She knew them and how they would react. They knew her. Together, they had trust and loyalty. They rarely touched and there was no forward progression to the whole arrangement. It just was.
Her relationships with Camellia and Meladee were less simple, but they were easy. She had the trust and loyalty, but they also pushed her to think a little further and do a little more. They were what she had been missing when Lurren was inhabited by nothing but machines. Eva never wanted to lose that feeling of give and take again. Thus, why she wanted to ensure Camellia and Meladee would continue on, especially with Rooks and Inez promising that they wouldn’t.
Eva’s relationship with Sten was something else. He wanted what she had with Tiny Tin, Camellia, Meladee, and Chrysanthos all rolled into one. He wanted that and more.
Eva entered their shared living quarters.
“I was about to come in search of you,” Sten said.
He placed Spring Peeper on a pillow, igniting joy in the spring. Spring Peeper wiggled and seemed to melt into a faint, eyes half closed as he lay on the pillow, full of contentment.
Sten stared overlong at the toy.
“It’s a mechanism to make him sleep, next to a child preferably. The last thing organic parents want is a toy that plays all night,” Eva said.
“Ah. True.”
“Have you been reading the war reports?”
“I started. I did not finish.”
Eva raised an eyebrow. “What would you say if I told you one report details an extradimensional being that wants to help us fight the Volanter – so long as we free it?”
Sten’s eyes went wide. “I would say that it probably bothers you more than a little.”
“Yes, it does. We need a com line to Rooks now.”
Meladee stretched out. She reached for Mountaineer’s ceiling. “Well, that’s their crummy private wormhole all trapped up. They’re going to want to crawl back into that butthole next time they come through.”
Benham rolled his head to face her. “Thanks for the image.”
Meladee smiled and stared at him. She patted his cheek. “You’re welcome. You should also thank me for helping with the traps.”
Benham smiled. “Well, I’m excited to see what will happen with them.” Benham drew a long breath. “I wanted to get away from the Finial so bad, I thought it was a great idea to shift the wormhole. Now, I think it might get us killed, and we’ll never get to do the things I want to do.”
Meladee didn’t know what to say, so she just stared.
“Next time you’re paranoid about something, I’m going to get paranoid too. You seem to have a pretty good track record for keeping yourself out of danger. You get out of that situation, and then you never think about it again.” Benham turned the Mountaineer towards Iruedim. “Once we land, I think I’ll just sleep here. I’m not switching over to Halfmoon.”
Meladee made a noncommittal sound. Halfmoon, as their largest ship, presented them with the most comfort. Faustina, their airship, lacked climate control, and its balloon bobbed in the wind, jostling the ship below. The motion helped Meladee sleep, but Benham felt the opposite. Mountaineer, his original ship had a single bed, small living quarters, and a tiny hold. It was cramped, or cozy. Even the cockpit felt little, like a small desk that they had to share.
Meladee let him steer. She watched as Iruedim grew, taking up more and more of the forward view. Probes, dusted with magic and etched in symbols and circles, floated around Iruedim, creating an obstacle course back.
Meladee helped to do the same to the spot where the Volanter kept opening a wormhole. Apparently, special requirements had to be in place; otherwise, a big stable wormhole wasn’t going to work. The Volanter favored that spot because it eased their spell along.
She wiggled in her chair. “We can sleep on Mountaineer. Doesn’t bother me one bit.”
“Good.”
Mountaineer sailed past the first of the trap objects. Meladee watched as the ship brushed the edge of the magic. It looked like sparkling dust tried to cling to their ship.
“Be careful,” she scolded.
“I can get up and down just fine.” Benham flipped a few switches and eased the ship to the side as they skated past another.
Again, the magic dust seemed to cling.
Meladee gripped the edge of her seat. “Should I be flying this thing? There’s no way you have to do it like that.”
“You know. We should paint Mountaineer black,” Benham said. “It’s the better ship for battles. It’s smaller, and if we’re just using your magic for weapons, we don’t need Halfmoon’s weaponry.”
“Right but…Mountaineer needs fuel, and I thought we were rationing that.” Meladee gave him a narrow-eyed glare as they brushed between two magical envelopes at once.
“Sten found a way to convert that stockpile of fuel in Lurren. So, we’ve got quite a lot more. And, at some point, I’m going to get Mountaineer fitted with solar, not that we can rely on that forever either.” Benham huffed a sigh. “Where are we supposed to get energy around here?”
Mountaineer broke into the atmosphere, beyond all the traps.
Meladee relaxed. “Well, that’s the trouble with Iruedim. Told you we had fuck all to offer. I heard about this project to make magic the new fuel. We’ll see how that goes. Heck, we might even figure out how the Volanter do it and copy them.”
Meladee thought it might almost be worthwhile to capture a Volanter and ask him or her to explain their vessel propulsion.
As soon as he got in the door, Camellia tried to give Florian a hug. He’d taken care of their horse and locked up on his own, though Camellia had offered to help.
Florian dodged the hug and pushed her hands down. “It’s very late. I thought you’d go upstairs to bed.”
“Oh.” Camellia turned and started up the stairs. All she saw were the stairs. She had tunnel vision.
Her tunnel view led her all the way to her bed. She just took off her dress and got in without grabbing a night dress of any kind. Camellia laid down, pulled the covers up, and thought that she might have some trouble falling asleep. Her eyes seemed wide open, staring into a narrow space.
Did Florian think of her as a liar? Did it scare him? Worse, what was she going to do about her father?
Florian drifted into the room. He glanced at her face, bent, and picked up her dress. He tossed the dress into a chair and then knelt before the bed. “Are you going to sleep?”
“I don’t think that I want to talk to my father. Not for a while. Maybe never,” Camellia said. “But, he’s out there, expecting an answer, and I almost feel obligated. It’s my fault.”
“You gave Pen Pal a test you thought it couldn’t pass.” Florian rested one arm on the bed’s edge and caused the mattress to dip. “Right?”
“Right. I didn’t think he could pass it. At least…” Camellia propped her head up. “I was sort of hoping Pen Pal would just fix him for me, but the work has only just begun. I’m sorry. I can’t fix my father.”
“No.” Florian shook his head. “So, you thought Pen Pal would just change the entire family dynamic. I see.”
Camellia settled her head back down on the pillow. “There was one thing that Pen Pal said…he said that my father had a seed to work with. That there was a starting point. Do you think that means my father already knows what he’s like?”
Florian breathed in and exhaled. “He’s lived hundreds of years. If he doesn’t know, then there’s no helping him. There’s your seed.”
Camellia stared into Florian’s eyes. “I wish I could just have Cernunnos. I never really said goodbye to him.”
Florian’s eyes softened. He didn’t answer, but he stroked Camellia’s face.
“You’re supposed to be enough family for me.” Camellia eyes drifted down, but she forced them back open. “And, if I had to choose, I would rather keep you than all of the members of the Zaris household combined. I’m sorry I started this.” Camellia felt her eyes close.
Florian leaned over and hugged her, careful not to put his weight on her body. He pulled away, but he still knelt by Camellia’s bed. She could feel warmth.
She felt another soft touch on her cheek. “Get some sleep. We’ll sleep in. It’ll be nice.”
Rooks hadn’t set foot off her ship in what felt like an age. She had been stuck on Fauchard battling and waiting, alternating between the two. Battling was nerve wracking because she had just the one planet to protect, the one planet to escape to. There was nowhere else she could go, unlike her battles in Girandola. Waiting, which was the longer activity of the two, was worse. She had time to think about how she had nowhere to go, no other planets to run to. She had the one home now.
Rooks blindly walked the halls as she thought. She knew the Volanter would attack again in the morning, so less waiting than usual.
Something tapped Rooks’ shoulder.
She jumped but didn’t really stop walking. As she looked to her side, she saw Alban.
“Are you leaving the Ischyros without a commander or do you have more information for me?” Rooks asked.
“I’m on my way back to the Ischyros. I just thought I’d visit you before I headed back. You were on my way.” Alban seemed not at all tired, not surprising given that his days consisted of waiting and helping to guard the wormhole. His springy step and bright eyes were catching.
Rooks smiled. “What is your fascination with Mr. Joto? Can this be the last time you make a public statement about him?”
“No.” Alban drew back. “How could I let you forget the memory of Mr. Joto?”
Rooks laughed and rubbed her forehead. “Oh god. What did I do to deserve an encounter with you?”
“If you don’t want people to know about your private life, you shouldn’t…”
“Have dreams about it?” Rooks raised her eyebrows.
Alban stopped. “Precisely. I hardly dream now, ever since I first had to deal with Hagen.”
Rooks shook her head. “Not gonna happen for me. And, I don’t mind talking about aspects of my private life. That’s you. You have nothing on your office wall.”
Alban held up a finger. “Not true. I have Pan’s picture of the Ischyros in space. I had it in my office for a while, but I liked it enough that I moved it to my quarters. Furthermore, I am not worried about using my first name.”
Rooks laughed. “Let’s leave some room for some cultural differences, and you must respect that Girandolan officers use their surnames. Also, you moved a picture of your ship to your personal wall?”
“It’s not really my personal wall. It’s the Ischyros’ wall, and that seems like a pretty good place to keep a picture of the Ischyros.” Alban stopped. “If I go any farther, I’ll start to head out of my way.”
Rooks stopped too. She hadn’t realized where they’d been walking. She traveled the Fauchard on autopilot, sometimes with no idea how she’d gotten where she’d gotten. She used to experience the same thing when driving. She figured that walking on autopilot was less dangerous.
“Goodnight, I guess. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“You’ll hear from me in any case. Goodnight.” Alban turned down the hall that led to the bay. He’d be on his way back to the Ischyros to sleep.
Rooks headed in the direction that would take her to her quarters and to sleep. She had to admit; he was moving from friendly to friendlier. That was fine. As Pan said, friendliest came next, and Rooks could now see for herself why they thought he was aiming for it.
Rooks didn’t trouble herself with the personal aspects of her command. They had a wonderful plan for the next fight, and she was rather excited to see how the Carex thing might go.