Rooks strode onto the bridge. The Volanter had good timing. She’d just finished her breakfast, and she had a good night of rest behind her. Of course, that meant the Volanter would have bad timing on the next battle. They seemed to keep to a schedule, and that schedule rotated around hers.
“I’m not surprised they’re back.” Rooks stood at her console and studied the readouts.
“They’re not back,” Alban’s voice came over the com. “They sent a present. Actually, they sent eight, and we might not have much time.”
Rooks felt her eyes narrow. She looked to Inez.
Inez nodded. “Eight metal boxes, with eight runes painted on the top. The boxes are glowing, partly because they hold a reflection spell. That means they’re hard to disarm. Magical effects slide off them, which incidentally is a pretty hard spell to perform, let alone attach to an object. I’ve never seen reflection done on anything bigger than a shoebox. These are much larger.”
“Inez?” Rooks prodded.
“Oh right. We have about five minutes before they go off and release whatever spell they collectively hold.” Inez held up her tablet.
Rooks saw the eight boxes and their positions in space. They ringed Iruedim but didn’t manage to catch the wormhole. Runes glowed on the screen; each matched to a box.
“It’s a spell?” Rooks asked.
Inez nodded. “I don’t know what it does. Pan and Sotir are checking the book. Honestly, I think we just need to disrupt it.”
Rooks strode to her console and pressed the button for ship-to-ship communication. “Attention all fighters and Lurrien vessels on patrol – Get to those eight boxes and get them out of alignment.” Rooks lifted her finger from the button. “Can we expect to destroy these boxes?”
Inez held the tablet close to her breast. She shook her head. “No. That reflection spell will prevent damage from magic and any conventional weapon. It’s even having an effect on Sotir. He can’t read the boxes.”
Rooks huffed. “Powerful.” She pressed the button again. “Don’t expect to destroy the boxes. Just move them out of alignment.” Rooks glanced between two windows on her computer. She viewed the map that Inez had shown her and read each boxes’ coordinates. In the second window, she tapped coordinates, effectively giving each box a name. “Boxes at these coordinates, move away from Iruedim 1 to 3 lightyears. Boxes at these coordinates, move away from Iruedim at 4 to 7 lightyears. Tow them and jump, use magical propulsion. Just get them out of line. As for the last three. Leave the box at this location. Pull these two boxes closer, vary the distance. I leave that up to your discretion.” Rooks’ fingers flew over the keys, as she gave the final directions.
Twelve targets moved over her map. Twelve ships headed for the eight boxes. Rooks grabbed the edges of her console and locked her elbows. She watched one ship hover by a box. It didn’t move.
“What’s going on?” Rooks asked.
Inez cleared her throat. “It’s that reflection spell. They have to find a way to move the box, without really touching it. Tow cable is repelled. Telekinetic magic too. If you want, I can send some ideas.”
Rooks sidestepped her console. “Yes. Use my channel.”
Inez rushed to the console. She dropped her tablet to the floor, as gently as she could. Then, she typed directions and suggestions to the twelve ships that volunteered to move the boxes.
Three minutes passed. Rooks knew because she couldn’t take her eyes off the clock. The runes on screen blinked to show the spell was critical. Rooks held her breath.
Then, the first box moved, away from Iruedim. Rooks exhaled. Another ship captured its box and sped away. By the time four minutes passed, Rooks watched all the boxes move in their designated directions. Five zipped away. One remained in place. Two blinked closer.
“Will this really disrupt the spell?” Alban asked.
“Yes,” Inez promised.
Rooks patted Inez on the shoulder. “Good job.”
“Nothing happened,” a Scaldin commander said. “Must be a good sign. It’s past time for that circle’s effect.”
“Yes, it is.” Rooks felt all the energy she gained from rest and breakfast had drained out of her body and puddled somewhere on the bridge’s carpeted floor.
Another Scaldin commander cleared his throat. It was Alban’s favored officer – Ivo. “Now, do we expect an attack?”
Rooks sighed. “I suppose so.”
An hour passed, no one attacked. Rooks frowned. It must have been some spell that she and her people disrupted. Their little victory sent the Volanter back to the drawing board.
“I’m starting to think they aren’t coming,” Alban said, over the com.
Another Scaldin man spoke, “They might try the same thing again. We haven’t shut off those potential wormholes.”
Rooks felt her eyes narrow. The man was right. The Volanter might not abandon the idea entirely. They might improve it and try again.
“Do we know what spell it was?” Another commander asked. His words fizzled over the com.
Alban answered, “No. We can’t find it in the book. We found three close spells, all at the very end. We’re guessing the spell isn’t in the book. Too new apparently.”
“If they’re still going to use the boxes…” Ivo began.
“We need to study them,” Rooks agreed. “Especially since we can’t place the spell. We’ve got two that we brought in. I’ve already sent one down to the AAH. The other I have aboard the Fauchard.”
During the hour that the Volanter didn’t attack, Rooks took a short walk to view the box.
At first, she thought it was red in color. She quickly revised that assumption to green and wondered what was wrong with her eyes. The more she looked at it, the more she saw purple, maybe blue. In that moment, Rooks realized that she saw the reflection spell at work. It was a box of many colors…and many details. Swirling runes etched over the surface in gold detailing. The box possessed a clear seam, and Rooks could tell top from bottom with ease. The box also possessed three locks.
Rooks continued, “It’s a bit of a strange beast. Since I have mages and anthropologists studying one, why don’t I send the second over to the Ischyros? You can have Aria and Sotir give it a look.”
Ivo said, “Then, the Ischyros had better move off from the rest of the fleet. Sorry, Alban.”
“It’s alright. I’ve got Pan. I’ll make sure she keeps an eye on it.”
“I’ll send it your way now.” Rooks typed the order into her console and hoped that Alban wouldn’t receive a volatile spell component.
Inez tugged at Rooks’ sleeve. “Can I go over with the box? I think those locks can be opened. In fact, I think they’re designed to be opened, so the Volanter can service whatever rune they etched inside.”
Rooks shook her head. “You stay here. I need you to work on that wormhole situation. Once we close off potential routes into our space, we’ll fare a lot better against the Volanter.”
“I understand.” Inez sighed and moved off.
Rooks knew Inez was disappointed, but Inez already led another exploration in magic – an important one. She had to let others have some of the action, and that included Eder. Besides, Eder and the mages on Iruedim were better equipped, with the AAH to back them up. Rooks couldn’t coddle Inez’s whims.
Rooks glanced at her screen and read the reports on what they already knew of the box. Reflection spell – check. Service locks – check. Service instruction in moving gold code – check.
With a few swipes of her fingers, Rooks sent the information on to Alban’s Ischyros.
A moment later, he replied, “Why, thank you. We just received the information on the wings of a little bird.”
Though Rooks smiled, she hoped the rest of the navy hadn’t just tuned in to Alban’s attempt at flirting.
Panphila still slept, but Aria was up. She was feeling kind of good.
She’d had an intense dream, filled with images of her friends and family. They attended her funeral, and as she burned below ground, a smoke stack, from the underground crematorium, released her colors into the air. They all said such nice things about her, as they gathered. But Aria had to admit – it was a dark dream. It certainly made her fear the prospect.
When she woke, she felt relief just to be alive. That was where the good feeling came from, and that was where her desire to spend time with Pan and Sotir also came into play.
Pan slept, so Aria accompanied Sotir to the bridge.
Alban stood to the side and waited. He fidgeted and paced the dais, puffing blue and red aura.
Sotir stared upward at a screen, descended from the ceiling. Alban rarely used it. However, he used it enough. The screen held all the aural colors of the operators and watchers. Aria saw a view akin to a finger painting.
“What are we looking at?” Aria asked.
“It’s a box,” Sotir said. “Kind of purple. Maybe, more blue. Actually, I’d say it’s really colorless – or all the colors – if that makes sense.”
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“Oddly informative for me,” Aria said.
Sotir’s smile showed through his green-yellow aura. “Yes, it is. The box has gold writing that moves over its surface. The current theory is that the gold writing serves as a code, telling Volanter how to open the box’s three locks and service the magic rune inside.
“Well?” Alban asked. “Still can’t see anything?”
Sotir shook his head, and his aura turned a shade of deep blue. “Nothing. That reflection spell is solid work.”
Alban puffed blue fog. “Well, I’m dying to hear what Aria thinks of it then.”
Aria scowled. “I can’t even see it.”
Alban held up a finger. “I know. Why don’t you go visit it? Bring Sotir. I set up the box in Pan’s cargo bay. I’ll call her and let her know to join you two.” Beneath a thick aura of blue, Alban’s eyes flicked to Sotir. “Who’s room?”
“Hers,” he answered.
“Good.” Alban walked to his chair and put a finger to his com. He held the ring button down.
Aria knew that sound – the jarring buzz of a navy ship’s call. When she served as an aura reader, she heard it often. Aria bet Pan already jolted awake.
Pan’s cargo bay housed the box, Alban, and Sotir. Aria too. The shielded bay was the perfect place to toy with the Volanter’s trick.
Aria stalked close. The box glowed in a perfect, sharp white, and colored runes drew themselves across the surface, over and over. Aria didn’t see the gold letters. Instead, Aria read a different set of patterns and colors. A red rune swirled, followed by one of blue. Aria circled the box and followed the pattern. She found a rune of yellow-green, but it faded after it drew itself, and Aria lost the trail.
The box was big. It came up to Aria’s waist, and each lock could have filled both her hands. It was a perfect cube, which gave it a sense of compactness, despite the size, especially in a wide-open vacuum, where they’d first found it.
“Don’t tell me you can’t see anything either,” Alban warned. His voice came from behind the viewing shield.
The shield possessed a window, but Aria couldn’t see through it. She saw colors of blue, red, and purple instead – all shades of Pan. It made sense because the cargo bay belonged to Pan as a practice chamber. Since Pan spent a few months on Scaldigir, the colors had waned, but Aria could still see them. Plus, she could see the leftover runes, etched in white, splashed over the bay like graffiti. They came from Pan’s many miscasts and successful circles.
Sotir waited beside the shelter. He leaned upon his staff, and Aria could see his usual colors of yellow and green, plus some curiosity in varying shades.
Aria called, “I see a white box. Its lines are very sharp.” Aria looked back to the box. “White suggests a mix of all colors. It’s the color of magic and non-sentience.”
“So, it’s safe to say the box doesn’t have feelings,” came Alban’s voice.
Aria bent a little closer to the box. “The part of that I hoped you would take away was actually the mix of colors. The box is so thoroughly draped in magic that it has sharp edges to my eyes.”
“Interesting,” Sotir added. “Like it’s been wrapped.”
Aria straightened and stared across the bay. “Right.”
“That’s the reflection spell,” Sotir said.
“Anything else?” Alban asked.
“There are runes. They appear and disappear, only to reappear again.” Aria circled the box and followed a string of cool colored runes – purples, blues, and greens. “I’m guessing each rune has a purpose, and each rune has a feeling. And…they might be connected to the locks.” Aria rounded a corner and stopped before the three locks.
Each lock presented a mess of color. The colors shifted and warped but stayed confined to the lock, showing Aria the sharp edges of each. One lock took the shape of a square. The second took the shape of a bottom-heavy shield. The third and final lock was a triangle.
“Which runes match which lock?” Alban called.
Aria shook her head. “I need to think about it. The center lock is all cool colors. The square is all hot, and the triangle is a bit of both. If I knew what each rune meant…”
“Draw them for me.” Sotir stepped closer. His staff rang over the floor.
“I can’t. I can’t see well enough to draw on paper. You know that.” Aria knelt by the box and studied a long string of runes. It disappeared, but Aria knew it would come back around.
Sotir stopped at her side. He towered over her. “When we lost Pan in the wilds of Scaldigir, you wrote her many beautiful messages. You can do it.”
Aria glanced up at Sotir to find his aura reaching for hers in a friendly yellow. She smiled.
Sotir traced his finger through the air. “Maybe you can finger draw. I’m good at runes, and I’ve gotten better since Pan and I have read through that book for more than a year.”
Aria’s smile continued. In fact, it widened. “Paper would be better.”
Sotir cocked his head. His aura reached in tendrils for the box and caressed it. “Can you find the circle that creates the reflection spell? We know that the locks are tied to the colored runes; the gold writing serves as instruction, and the rune on top, marks whatever is inside. There must be a place for the reflection spell.”
Aria perked up. “Right. I doubt it’s on the inside. It has to face out. Pan always put her circles around her target.” Aria slumped. “Wouldn’t that mean that it’s been left behind on some Volanter arcane’s floor?”
Sotir bent to one knee. He tugged his pants and tunic into a comfortable position. “Maybe. But, it has to be kept small, tight. It’s a hard spell. Maybe, we might see some of it on the base of the box.”
“Oh,” Aria gasped. “Maybe.”
Aria got down on her hands and knees and started to check the bottom of the box. “It would probably be in white. Which means it would match the rest of the box.” Aria scooted around the first corner and noticed a subtle shift in the shade of white.
The box blazed, but a suggestive line looked tired and worn – dim. Aria saw a looping pattern to the dimness and thought she might have found the top of a rune.
“Are you good enough with runes that I could draw only part? Would you be able to guess it then?”
Sotir pushed to his feet. “Better use paper.”
Aria smiled up at him. “Not that good with runes?”
Steps crossed the bay. Alban’s shoes, colored in blue and bits of red stopped by Aria’s place on the floor. A small stack of paper fell by her hands. A pen followed, dropped lightly atop the stack.
“Good luck. I tried not to touch it. It’s new from Pan’s stash.” Alban’s steps walked away again. “Speaking of Pan…where is she?”
“Probably fell back asleep,” Sotir said. “You may want to send someone.”
Alban crossed the bay, swearing.
Aria picked up the pen, leaving a smudge of blue on the grey paper. She held the pen further up than she was taught. It felt loose in her hand. She sketched the top of the first rune she’d found and thought she might have done a fair job.
Sotir bent, grabbed a corner of the paper, and slipped it out of Aria’s stack. “I hope there’s enough for me to recognize it.”
Aria hoped so too. On hands and knees, she worked her way around and looked for the dimness.
Aria sat on the bay floor. Her knees were a bit sore, but to her surprise, she didn’t have so much as a tingle or a prick of pain. She expected to feel something bad after spending twenty minutes circling the box, with her neck bent low and her bony knees and wrists, supporting her thin frame.
She felt fine, good even. She sat and relaxed, and her joints felt relieved, not achy.
Pan had been called to the bay. She stood beside Sotir and held the papers while Sotir pointed at the runes.
Sotir’s finger snaked over the image. “I think I have it. I know it’s technically finished, already cast, but maybe, you can counter it.”
Pan held the pages at the bottom and splayed them, like cards. “You did this all from memory?”
“Yes.” Sotir’s aura betrayed a purple of his own, pride.
Pan possessed a shade that matched his, as well as an anxious yellow. “Once I unbind you, you’ll be better at picking up new spells than me.”
Sotir’s aura ran with rivulets of sick green.
Aria felt her eyes narrow. If she knew auras, and she did, she would say that Sotir was not thrilled with the prospect of unbinding. Aria couldn’t wait for it. A trickle of yellow moved over Aria. She startled and looked down. She watched the excited shade fade from her own aura.
“Good thing I brought you along.” A moment of silence passed. Then, Pan added, “Aria?”
Aria looked back up. “What was that?”
“I said – good thing you were here. We couldn’t have done this without you.” Pan gestured to the box.
Aria hugged her arms around her knees. “You can conjure the aura reading circle whenever you like now.”
Pan stared hard through her lavender aura. “But, I don’t know how to read the colors. It’s not just the circle. You add to it – whether you like that or not.”
Aria considered Pan’s words. She wasn’t sure if she liked aura reading. In fact, a year ago, she would have said she hated it, but reading the box’s aura was not the worst thing she’d done in the past six months.
Pan’s aura tickled the box in lavender. “So, we remove the reflection spell and try to open it?”
Sotir answered, “No, we remove the reflection spell. I read it and get an idea how and why they made it. After that, we can open it and muddy the view.”
Speaking of muddying the view, Pan’s aura caressed the box and left little streaks of lavender. Aria wanted to tell Pan not to color it, but she let it go. Aria had a good long study. She didn’t need to see the box in stark detail anymore.
Aria, however, wanted to remember the box in stark detail. She watched the last of its sharpness. The runes that ran over the box still disappeared and reappeared. They created a kind of game; whether intended or not, Aria didn’t know. She leaned towards intent. Carex and Ranunculus knew she was an aura reader. She thought they knew. Was the game meant for her? It didn’t matter because Aria had cheated.
Pan circled the box. “You think you have every rune figured out?”
Sotir nodded slow. “Yes, and when I combined the runes into a circle, I matched it to the reflection spell in the book – of which there were seven.”
Pan glanced at Sotir. “My my…seven.” Her aura snaked over the floor in colors of lavender, pink, and blue. “Does anyone want to hide behind the shield? Or, should I just go for it?”
Sotir didn’t budge. He wore his colors of green and yellow and looked like his old self. “I don’t need to hide.”
Alban cleared his throat. “I am well hidden. I think Aria should join me.”
Aria smiled and shook her head. “I trust you, Pan.”
Pan’s aura turned a sharp, sad blue. “Good to hear. Let’s do this fast.” Pan faced the box. She took a deep breath and cast the circle.
Aria saw it in white. She scooted back and squinted as the runes glowed stronger. Aria could see that Pan drew the runes tight around the box, and they matched the runes already on the box’s base.
Pan redrew the old circle – the reflection spell. Pan held that circle a moment. Then, she countered it. Runes drew themselves over the existing runes and created a continuous flow of writing; every edge and break in the line obliterated.
The counter made a sound like fading bells, and then, it really started to fade.
“That’s it.” Pan stepped back.
Aria’s mouth fell open. The sharp white coating that lay plastered over the box disappeared, and Aria saw the auras of all who had touched the slightly less magical object. Some she bet belonged to Scaldin; other colors belonged to Volanter.
“Oh! That’s good. I can see it now.” Sotir edged closer. His staff made a scraping sound along the floor, and his colors showed excited red and yellow. Then, his aura phased into white. “If we open it...”
Just as Sotir weighed the possibility, the locks clicked open and fell free.
Alban ran across the bay. “Hurry up on that read. The damn thing has opened itself. We might as well see what’s inside.” Alban knelt by the box and threw it open.
“Wormhole spell!” Sotir shouted. “Get it out quick.”
Aria got to her feet and backed away.
Alban pushed to his feet and backpedaled as well. “Pan, send that box somewhere else, preferably somewhere we can handle a wormhole.”
Pan stepped forward and traced a circle around the box. “How about the sun?”
The box fell through Pan’s portal and left their influence.
The group stood in silence.
“Were we fast enough?” Alban asked.
Sotir’s aura, previously a strong white, glowed a little softer. “Yes. We were fast enough…but, oh no, what if they open the one on Iruedim? I don’t know how close they are. The gold writing – it’s written in a less used dialect and gives instructions on how to open the locks, without dismantling the reflection spell. It’s supposed to look like a puzzle – one that we would want to crack. The Volanter mean to trick us – with our own desire to study magical things.” Through his aura, Sotir’s eyes widened. “Rooks gave the box to the AAH. They are the perfect people to open it.”
“Damn.” Alban pulled a com from his belt. “Send a message to Rooks. Tell her to tell her people not to open the box. It’s a trap. The Volanter want us to open it.”
“Acknowledged.”
Aria’s heart beat a little faster. What was the point of sending them a wormhole in a box? Could wormholes be better maintained in atmosphere? Or, did the Volanter want a quick way aboard a ship? That was the motive. The Volanter wanted to invade a ship and usurp control. It was the idea she’d tried to sell to Carex. Thank the Mother Tree that the invaded ship wouldn’t be the Ischyros.
Instead, the Volanter could have a window right into Iruedim.
“Have they opened it?” Pan asked.
“I don’t know.” Sotir clutched his staff and stared away from Pan.
Alban, showing flashes of yellow inside his deep blue, held the com to his lips. “Do we have an answer from Rooks?”
“They opened it,” Sotir said. “It is much too late.”
Alban ran across the bay and swiped his card to get the heavy doors open. “Pan, I’m going to need you to head down to Iruedim. Otherwise, we’ll lose our allies.”
“I know,” Pan said.
Sotir held his staff above the floor and ran for the door. He would follow Alban to the bridge. Pan would go on a hunt for Volanter.
Aria didn’t know where she should wait out the attack. She didn’t want to go to the bridge, but she didn’t want to spend the time alone in her quarters either. Aria settled on the infirmary. She’d know when and if she needed to evacuate.