Rooks sighed. “They finally decided to show up. I hope this doesn’t mean we’re losing down there.” Rooks tapped her fingers against her console. “Any word?”
“No Curator.” The com officer shook her head.
The Volanter ships drifted lazily towards Iruedim. They’d come in from an entirely different wormhole. It rested on the edge of Iruedim’s solar system, far and unstable. Since it was so unpredictable, the Volanter had to trickle across Iruedim’s space.
They almost seemed friendly, drawn out in a long, seemingly unthreatening line. But, Rooks knew a formation when she saw one.
Five big Volanter ships occupied the vanguard, with seven smaller ships, above and below. The smaller ships trailed a little behind, ready to assist the larger. Behind the main formation, an array of twenty ships lined up in rows, getting neater by the second. They were ready to fill any space that got vacated by their frontlines.
“They shouldn’t have bothered with the planetary invasion,” Rooks said. “This might do the trick.”
“Oh my,” came Pan’s voice over the com. “Where do you want me?”
“Glad to see you could join us. Take out the biggest, center ship.”
“The one right in front?” Pan asked.
“That’s the one.”
“Where’s the Ischyros?” Pan asked.
“Somewhere distant. Now, get to work. We don’t have time for conversation.” Rooks waited by her console and stared at the view. She couldn’t see Pan or the dragon, camouflaged like a drop of ink, against a backdrop of black paper.
“Orders for the fleet, Curator?”
“Match their formation, but leave a space for that large central ship to slip into our ranks. It won’t be around for long, and we can hide behind its remains.”
Pan and her familiar aimed for the central ship. The sheer number of ships that spread before them ignited a flutter of anger in Pan.
Who the hell are they to tell us that we’re just like them? It wasn’t true for me and Brynn…and it’s not true now.
Pan hesitated to finish the thought because as the years passed, she did feel more akin to Brynn – both the grey-hearted living version and the gold-hearted ghost. If she were honest with herself, she loved Brynn as much as she hated her.
Pan shook her head and let the thought sink into the background. Dragon fur tickled her nose, and Pan dug her fingers deeper into the dragon’s coat. The fur ruffled, as if disturbed by the extra attention.
Pan looked where her dragon looked – ahead.
The Volanter just kept coming. They didn’t know when enough was enough, and it would take a major hint for them to bug off and let her and her people be. In fact, it would take more than a hint.
The first of the Volanter ships – the new flagship – loomed, lit up against the sky in pale green.
Pan’s dragon landed on the hull and ran along the length.
“We won’t go in,” Pan said. “We’re going to destroy their Engineering column from the outside. I have a plan.”
Volanter ships, unlike Scaldin ships, all followed a pattern. Whether they were big or small, the interior design was the same. Engineering lay at the back. A central garden held a place of prominence mid ship. In fact, her dragon ran over the skylight that showed Pan a view of the Dipinta tree inside. The windows had been painted, but it was an imperfect job, marked by flecks and streaks in the paint. The bridge, of course, the only place she could get a clear view in, rested at the front. Everything else – research and living space – circled the tree.
Pan had seen one Engineering room, and she felt that if you’d seen one, you’d seen them all. She’d been able to portal directly from Engineering room to Engineering room, without a true visualization. The gardens had greater variety. Warship gardens were small and tight, unlike the civilian ship gardens, which sprawled.
Pan’s dragon halted on the edge of the central skylight, and Pan angled herself to see through a sloppy streak.
“I think we can do this direct.” Pan conjured a portal beside the tree.
Through the streak of paint, she saw the light of her spellwork. Pan sent her portal to the place she imagined – the Flagship’s Engineering.
In a flash, she got the connection she sought. With a quick telekinetic ring, Pan tore the tree from its root system. She imagined it groaned, and she watched it fall into the portal beside it. The tree knocked the Engineering column loose and cracked it wide open. The column spewed color and light into the garden and lit up more imperfections in the window’s paint job.
“I thought the paint job was sloppy, but it makes no difference. I can still see my way in.” Pan caressed the fur of her dragon, and for a moment, it felt silky as her own hair. Pan withdrew her hand and slowly placed it back down. She felt fur again.
Pan’s dragon ran and lifted off. The Volanter would figure out that she was not on the planet defending the Iruedians, and they would send someone to counter her. Till then, she would fly like a demon in the night and destroy as many of their ships as she could.
“They’ll expect me to stay here at the front, but why bother with that?”
Behind them, the main ship stalled and its exhaust spewed a colored gas. The Volanter ships above, beside, and below gave it space. Pods spewed from the violated ship, and tiny explosions began in the rear.
Rooks’ ships and the Scaldin fired. They had a nice clear shot to the bellies and the backs of the ships in the upper and lower part of the formation.
“They can handle that. We should go to the back and kill the reinforcements. Quick. Before we have actual opponents.” Pan wondered if she could shake tracking and pursuit from someone like Gladiolus. She wondered if there was a circle for that.
The maze of portals she’d made had certainly confused the thread, snapping it from its direction.
“Hmmm.” Pan conjured fifteen great portals.
The giant circles separated the reinforcements from the vanguard and folded in upon themselves, creating a kind of mirrored effect, especially in the dark of space. A newly conjured thread might just make its way around the portals, but Pan could shift them if she kept the circles in play. Then, it would be so simple to snap the thread. She had the energy for that and more.
The reinforcements began to disgorge arcane riders.
Pan growled.
“We were going to have so much fun too. Alright. Let’s go inside. If they’re out here, I don’t want to be.”
The dragon landed on top of a smaller ship and trotted over the hull to the skylight. The paint job was too perfect. Pan couldn’t see inside – with her eyes. Her mind, however, offered an alternative. Pan imagined the tree she knew grew inside.
She popped a quick portal below their feet, and they fell silently down. Just before her view fell out of space, Pan saw magic circles come alive in the vanguard of the fight – Volanter and Iruedian.
The dragon slipped through the airspace of the dark garden. It grabbed the trunk of the tree, and skittered down to the base.
Pan wasted no time. She was the only enemy mage out and about, while the Volanter had plenty of allies.
Pan conjured four portals, all in a ring. She connected the Engineering deck of the ship she stood on to the garden room of another ship, which she connected to the Engineering deck of that same ship, and back to the garden room she stood in.
Her head ached as she struggled to imagine the places and saw them shimmer in the portals. Volanter shimmered on the Engineering decks too. Pan sent off a telekinetic circle. The trees groaned; the Engineering columns cracked, and Pan performed a swap.
The dragon leapt off the tree and roared as colored gas clouded their airspace. Pan was glad to be behind the shelter of the familiar’s scales.
“Okay, next ship.” Pan conjured a portal.
The dragon shot out and away.
Within their pseudo safety of Halfmoon’s cockpit, Meladee and Benham flew a circuit around Fola. Three other ships did the same: two of Lurrien make and one of Girandolan. The Girandolan ship belonged to Meladee and Benham too. It was the Mountaineer, piloted by the pizza man, much to Benham’s dismay.
The Halfmoon flew at the rear of the pack, and Meladee got a good look at the pencil ship and a hawk shaped ship. As the Lurrien vessels turned and hugged the island’s coast, both titled, but neither went quite as sideways as the Mountaineer. The pizza man flew fierce, and he took risks. Meladee admired him for it. He was fighter pilot material. Benham thought her pizza man was a little sloppy, but what more could she ask from someone make of dough, tomato sauce, and cheese?
The Halfmoon turned and titled. Meladee’s view went sideways. Chatter over the com suggested that, within Tagtrum’s borders, only Fola remained under attack.
“So, that’s good. Guess we just turn inland and defeat the rest. Do you think this a take no prisoners scenario?” Meladee glanced at Benham.
The Halfmoon soared high, until Benham dipped, preparing for another strafe.
He gestured out the windshield. “Can you think of a way to capture one?”
Meladee looked out the window. The capital drew near. Tiny black and white figures mottled the lawn. They looked like miniatures in a model village. The Volanter formed a circle and fought the mages from the government buildings as well as the mages from the surrounding neighborhoods. The closer Halfmoon got, the bigger the battle loomed, and Meladee got a good look at the Volanter spellwork.
A rayed spell sprayed shooting stars, onto a faltering Irueidan shield. Holes formed in the magic bubble. Rotating rings flared and shot effect after effect into the fray.
“I don’t think any cage could hold these things.” She shook her head. “I’m going to drop a suction spell in the middle of their formation.”
“Suction?”
“Yeah. It’s kind of like Camellia’s wind sword. Instead, the wind will pull them in. I figure they’d hate to lose ground.” Meladee pointed to the Volanter’s circle formation.
A big space filled the center, and the Volanter seemed to want that space to grow. They leaned forward and threw their spellwork just behind the enemy line. When an Iruedian mage retreated, a Volanter advanced.
Benham stared out the view. “Alright. I’m lining you up.” He eased the ship into its run.
Meladee imagined the spell, three rings strong. What she hadn’t told Benham was how new the spell was. She’d thought it up in about five seconds, just before she named it a suction spell. On such short notice, Meladee used a few wind symbols in places of runes.
She took a deep breath, and her spell glowed at the center of the Volanter invaders.
Several Volanter must have heard the spell’s music because they whipped their heads around to see what lay at their backs. A few double-took; most ignored the new spell in favor of more pressing magic from their ground-based opponents. One mage took it upon herself to stare at the spell. She slipped behind a companion, so that she could get a better look, with a modicum of safety.
Meladee felt proud to have captivated the Volanter woman. It was always good to have one’s spellwork validated. Meladee got ready to release the spell. She had it in order, and it glowed strong.
A light traced itself over several of her runes, and those runes ceased to glow. The runes weren’t Volanter, but they’d been countered. The spell set off, weakened by whatever the woman’s partial counter accomplished. The spell’s strong winds, now mere gusts, tugged on Volanter head tentacles and ruffled garments.
Meladee hit the dash and growled a garbled complaint that even she didn’t know the words to.
The Halfmoon soared beyond, and Meladee got a view of clear land, just beyond the battle.
“Go back!”
“I have to come around first.”
“Can you believe this shit?”
Benham sighed. “Yeah. Iruedian magic isn’t invincible. Just be glad she couldn’t counter it entirely. Maybe, make it more complicated? That didn’t look like one of your better spells.”
Meladee huffed. She sat back and crossed her arms. It wasn’t one of her better spells, but she wasn’t about to admit it. “I’ll just do something different. How are my summons doing?”
“Didn’t see the basan or dragon, sorry,” Benham said.
“Well, I guess they’re dead already. I could always resummon, but generally, once the basan’s gone, it likes to stay gone.”
Benham turned the ship about, and the Mountaineer zipped by, ending its own strafe maneuver.
With a lack of enthusiasm, Benham said, “There’s pizza man.”
Meladee sat forward. “You know – he might hold the record for longest lived summon, at least in a battle. I don’t think I’ve ever had one last this long.”
Benham pressed some controls and began to push the ship down. “He’s cheating. He borrowed my ship.”
“He’s doing alright with it.”
“He doesn’t have any training, let alone a license-.” Benham had more to say, but the com fizzled and cut him off.
“Meladee. I need you to go to the sight of the wormhole in Presereme,” Rooks called. “I can’t get in touch with Eder. I need someone who knows how the wormholes work. We need to close it.”
Benham pulled up and relinquished their chance at another attack.
Meladee punched the com. “I’m the best you could get? Aren’t there mages who took a deeper look at that wormhole spell?”
“Yes, and I can’t reach most of them by com, especially during a Volanter invasion. I don’t have a lot of spell writers aboard my ships, remember?”
Meladee sighed. “I hate to say it, but I don’t think there’s much I can do. I can’t close their spell. I barely understand how the wormhole works.”
“So, don’t close it. Use your own skills. Summon your Ul’thetos over the opening and defend that beast while it blocks passage to Volanter and their small vessels. Please go to Presereme and hurry. Eva will meet you there.”
Benham answered, “On our way.”
Eva let Sten drive. She kept a close eye on their shuttle’s shields. The bars for the forward and rear held strong and showed green. That might not last, given that the shuttle used an old shield generator and that it was untested. If they ran into the Volanter and endured a test of their shield’s character, they couldn’t even fight back. The shuttle had no weapons wired in.
In fact, they had no weapons aboard, aside from Sten’s large gun, Eva’s two guns, and her crystal staff. Still, those weapons wouldn’t help them land safely. The only way they could reach the AAH was to rely on their shields.
“They’ll hold,” Sten promised. “At least until we land. We might lose the shuttle, but that’s a small price to pay if we retain the items we want to study.”
“Right,” Eva agreed.
They had to rescue the magic box and learn its secrets, so that one day, Iruedians could send a special gift to the Volanter or, maybe, to some new worst enemies.
“Seems the Volanter only sent twenty mages to our corner of Iruedim,” Sten said.
The fight in Lurren winked out fast, especially thanks to the eager locomotives.
Eva looked up from the shield notifications.
Their shuttle descended, and the grey cities of Groaza came into view, peppered between forests of green.
“They must have realized what a waste of resources their efforts were.” Eva scraped her finger over her staff and tried to file some dried blood off with her nail. She made little progress in small flakes and nail shaped lines. Volanter blood liked to cling. She knew that too well. She wore a lot of it.
“Sorry you couldn’t clean up.” Sten glanced sidelong at Eva.
“You may have to help me,” Eva said.
Sten sat a little straighter. “Oh!” His tone of voice conveyed a certain degree of glee. “I mean I would be honored to help you clean Volanter blood from your person.”
Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.
Eva abandoned her attempts to clean the staff. She stared out the view and saw both the Halfmoon and Mountaineer stream ahead of their position, on the same course to Presereme.
Eva tapped the com. “You made it before us. Wise decision to put both ships in and utilize both your and Benham’s flying skills.”
Meladee’s voice returned, clean and clear. “Benham and I are in the Halfmoon. Together. Pizza Man’s got the Mountaineer.”
Eva felt confusion twist her face. She looked at Sten and saw contained amusement there. She pressed the com. “Pizza man? The frozen pizza man that fought in Lurren and got burned to a crisp in Groza?”
“Yeah. That man. What, something wrong with that?”
Eva felt her eyes go wide. “No. I’m just surprised you let a summon fly one of your ships.”
“Me too,” Benham answered.
“We need to land,” Sten said. “I see the wormhole, and it’s heavily guarded.”
Eva saw it too. The wormhole, just big enough for a mid-size sailing ship to pass through, hovered over the museum’s green, between the AAH and the museum.
“Weird. Feels like we just had a party there.” Meladee referred to Camellia’s wedding, of course.
Eva didn’t think it was strange to see an enemy take up residence somewhere that they loved. She’d seen enough of that in Lurren to fill three lifetimes. The Lurrien invasion moved slower, but that was the only difference.
Sten started for the ground. He pressed the stick forward and aimed to land several blocks over.
“No, don’t land,” Benham said. “Meladee can work her Ul’thetos magic aboard the ship.”
“Ah, but we can’t perform in the same way,” Sten answered. “We need to set down and head in for that box.”
“Oh. Good luck, then. Benham out.” The com beeped off.
“They’ll take it with them. The box, probably the com, and maybe even some of the other things we’ve captured. We shouldn’t have allowed so many unique items to be stored at the AAH. They have no security.” Eva watched out their shuttle’s view.
The grey buildings rose up on either side, and people scrambled out of the Groazan street.
Sten slowed their ride, hovered, and set it down. “At the very least, we can rescue the hostages at the AAH.”
Eva unstrapped. The belt retracted into the seat. She pushed her guns into their holsters and took her crystal staff in hand. As if she hadn’t heard Sten, she said, “I doubt they even brought a piece of technology with them. We stand to gain nothing, only to prevent losses.”
“My God, Eva. What is going on with you? Ships definitely came through.” Sten stood. His fingers flew over the keys and completed lock up procedures. “Those ships probably went to other countries…”
“Right, so we’ll never have a chance to study one.” Eva couldn’t help but think she’d missed a golden chance to study Volanter technology. Instead, she headed after the box and other small items. It was the box that Rooks most wanted, but no one in Lurren could work magic. They could get no information from the box.
Eva hurried out. She hopped off the shuttle and felt the familiar cool breeze of Groaza, though it felt warm by Lurrien standards.
Sten hopped down at her side. Then, he darted for a side street. “We’re not going to study anything, unless invited. Is there something you’re interested in? Maybe…”
Eva ran across the street and stopped at the corner of a shop. With an upraised hand, Eva shushed Sten. “Drop it. It’s foolish anyway. Rooks will keep everything for the navy, especially now. Even the AAH might have lost its privileges. We’ll hear about the brand-new tech the same time as everyone on Iruedim.”
In a quiet voice, Sten added, “I should say so.”
Meladee held the Ul’thetos circle in her mind’s eye. Coincidentally, that meant she stared into the eye of Ul’thetos. That orb and its cross-shaped pupil occupied the center of Meladee’s spell. She gave the circle a flat feeling and kept the glow from its imaginary lines. She didn’t want to set it off. Only when Benham had them on a steady course for the wormhole would she set it off.
A handful of Volanter riders rose into the air, and Benham averted the Halfmoon from their goal.
Meladee gestured sharply to the view. “We can’t beat them. Just go through. I need to get this done. After we drop Ul’thetos, we’ll run away.”
Meladee felt she’d misplaced her confidence. Someone had countered one of her circles, and that was supposed to be impossible for Iruedian spells. The Volanter learned quick, almost as quick as Iruedians. Meladee didn’t know how she could help if someone cancelled or weakened every spell she cast.
“We’ll have to defend her,” Benham said. “We can’t just let the Volanter kill Ul’thetos. They’ll try, and if we aren’t there, they’ll do it.”
“Damn. You’re right. Rooks did order us to protect her.” Meladee sat back in her seat and crossed her arms. “We need backup. Where’s our backup?”
In the back of her mind, she went over every aspect of her Ul’thetos spell. As she sent her imagination over each curve and line, Ul’thetos’ eye seemed to blink at the center of the circle. Meladee found it a touch disturbing, but it was her imagination. She would cease to think about the spell, but she wanted to make sure nothing could be countered. She would let nothing ruin the effect, but she didn’t really understand counters. Where was Pan when you needed her?
“Backup is below.” Benham nodded out the view. “Magic Minster Corentin and a small army of mages. See?”
Meladee leaned forward. She saw Corentin. She wondered if he saw them. “Think we can talk to him?”
“I think Rooks already has. He definitely saw our ship. So, here’s the plan. You cast your Ul’thetos. I’ll get us up and away. I think he’ll cast something to defend her, but we’ll stick around just to be sure.”
Meladee pressed her hands to the console and sent a four-ringed shield down into the ship. The light coursed into the deck and shimmered ahead of their view, reinforcing the old shield.
Bursts of light popped over their mini scanner. Volanter riders sent spells into their ship, but the shield caught them all.
“We’ll never get through,” Benham said.
More dots flashed over the mini scanner. Meladee knew one was Mountaineer, but the others had to be different ships. As Benham brought them about, she saw them.
Meladee pointed. “Maybe, those guys will help.”
“Yes, perfect,” Benham breathed.
As Benham exchanged a few hurried words with the other pilots, their mages attacked the riders. Meladee didn’t. She held on to her Ul’thetos spell and practiced how it needed to go.
“Get ready, Meladee,” Benham warned.
He steered Halfmoon into the center of a friendly formation. Three ships led them. Three ships guarded them. The whole flock turned as one, and Meladee saw the wormhole. She stared at its center. It was still too far off but getting closer.
At the front of the formation, Mountaineer shot its tiny guns into the crowds, and Meladee was proud of her pizza man. If he could manage against Volanter, she and her Ul’thetos spell should do fine.
Meladee imagined the circle. She made it small, but it seemed bigger within an atmosphere. It glowed before the center of the wormhole. On the ground, Volanter mages pointed at the circle. Several pairs of eyes stared at her work. The runes got brighter. The rings flared.
“Come on,” Meladee mumbled.
Then, Ul’thetos streamed out and hugged the wormhole. Her body encompassed the magical portal. Her tentacles tied in knots on the other side, and came back around to knot over her eyes.
The wormhole disappeared beneath a literal ball of Ul’thetos.
Meladee cheered for herself.
A spell rocked the Halfmoon, and she placed her hands to the dash. She sent another renewal to their shield. “That first counter was a lucky shot. Just a lucky shot.”
Eva and Sten joined Corentin’s army of mages. They marched at the back, even as the AAH headquarters drew near.
“The box should be in one of the lower research rooms. If we could see the back, we’d know which, judging from whatever basement window is open,” Sten said.
Eva thought someone would have closed the basement window by then. The anthropologists, who worked on the box, opened the window and tried to force it through or, at least, to point the spell someplace that wasn’t their own faces. They succeeded only in helping the Volanter conjure a slightly bigger wormhole, less limited by the confines of a basement research room.
Mages around Eva cheered.
She turned to the wormhole. In place of the magical portal, she saw Ul’thetos, hovering in the air, tied in knots. Narrow cross-shaped eyes gave the enemy Volanter a look of determination, but Eva couldn’t see that look as a good thing for Iruedim. Ul’thetos flinched and squished as it tried to avoid Volanter circles. Burns and frostbite formed over her body. Patches of her flesh fell clean, portaled away.
Hush fell over the nearby battlefield.
A great Iruedian spell hovered over the gathered mages. The four-ringed circle glowed in blue, and just below it, Corentin’s arms reached for the sky. The spell belonged to him. Other little lights trailed over the spell’s symbols. They came in different colors and from enemy mages. They were counters, but the counters failed. Corentin’s spell outglowed them. Finally, it set off, and a kraken pushed itself from the circle’s center. It landed on the lawn and wrapped itself around the Volanter. Ul’thetos, still alive, regained some gumption.
Eva supposed it was fine.
Sten tugged Eva’s arm. “Look.”
Eva sent her gaze where he pointed. A team of four Volanter slithered down the AAH front steps. They carried a large crate between them; large enough to house the box and then some. They were stealing the Iruedian’s hard won Volanter artifacts.
Eva might not get her hands on any, but she would be damned if no Iruedian did. She didn’t know where the Volanter planned to take the crate. They’d lost their wormhole and probably called for a pickup.
Sten and Eva both ran from the team of mages and followed the Volanter out into the streets of Presereme.
The Volanter made it the end of the block before Sten hefted his gun, braced it against his shoulder, and fired. Eva drew her large gun and fired as well. Both scored a hit.
Then, the Volanter began a series of spells. Healing flowed through the injured party members. A shield shimmered around the entire team of four, and a single Volanter mage turned to view Sten and Eva.
Sten pushed Eva for an alley, and she took the hint. She zipped into the alley and slid her staff into the holster across her back. She kept her gun drawn and climbed the wall.
She heard gunshots, and as she cleared the roof, she watched Sten dodge between the Groazan storefronts. He stayed to the street, in an attempt to spare Groaza what their Lurren had lost. However, the Volanter didn’t care. Strong winds, fire, and ice marred the buildings. Telekinetic spells pulled stones from walls.
Eva jumped to the next roof and crouched low. She hurried over the second roof, up and over its apex. She had one more shop to go, and she would find herself even with the Volanter party.
A couple of buildings back, Sten held his ground, backed up by five Groazan mages.
Eva cleared the final jump. She knelt just to the side of the roof’s apex and turned the dial on her big gun. She sighted the Volanter at the head of the group. He was a large man and held the crate’s front supports.
Eva waited. The Volanter shield held strong.
“I can’t stand here and wait all day,” Eva grumbled. She drew her staff from her back, held it at arm’s length, and shot it point blank.
Her staff caught the energy from her gun and soaked up the charge. Still more energy blew back, and Eva felt it singe her skin, from her face to her chest. Her hands burned, but her staff held the energy. It ran through the crystal interior in lightning lines of blue and pink.
Eva hefted her staff and, like a spear, threw it into the Volanter shield. She had to cover her artificial eyes because the shield blazed and sparked. The same jagged lines of blue and pink ran over its surface and killed its power.
A moment later, the crate fell. The Volanter followed, shot through by Sten and the mages at his side.
Eva blinked fast and quickly regained all her artificial sight. The crate lay shattered. Shards of wood collapsed over the artifacts, hiding some from view. From her high vantage point, Eva searched the pile. Nothing seemed big enough to be the box, and nothing was especially big enough to be the com. But, the things the Volanter tried to rescue had to be worthwhile.
Eva jumped from the roof. She landed hard by the debris. She toed some of it aside.
“You alright?” Sten asked as he trotted to her side.
Eva turned his way.
Sten recoiled. “God, Eva! You’ll need grafts on your face, arms…anywhere you had exposed skin.”
Eva smiled. Then, she laughed.
There was a reason why she didn’t use her big gun or staff to their full potential. There was a reason she especially didn’t use one to charge the other. They caused a lot of damage, and Sten was right. In her more active lifestyle, she did need new skin once a year, maybe more.
Just as Pan had predicted Gladiolus’ thread appeared on their tail. She rubbed her forehead. Her large portals remained in place, and she pulled them around, shimmying them over her playing field. The thread snapped, and Pan struggled to catch her breath.
“I can’t do this on my own.” She wondered if she might have to drop her large portals.
“May I offer you some assistance?” Sotir called.
“Sotir, oh yes. What should I do?”
“You’ve ensured the deaths of five ships. You can easily get more if you make the Volanter do the work for you. Find the Volanter rider atop a feline familiar. He’s capable of moving players on the battlefield, similar to how you’ve been doing. Use him. When you go to counter his circles, move them instead.”
“How?” Pan searched for that feline rider and thought she might have spotted him atop a great wildcat.
“Just take them. Move the spells like you did with your own portals. Imagine it’s all yours. Someone tried to do it to your work; you might as well return the favor.”
“Alright. I’ll do that.”
“It’s going to be tiring,” Sotir warned. “Conserve as much as you can.”
Pan just nodded, though he couldn’t see her. Her chin brushed the furred back of her dragon. A thread traced its way to her again, and her portals winked out one by one. Gladiolus had countered them.
“He’s a thorn in my side,” Pan said.
Her dragon tucked its wings and skated through two magical effects, too dispersed to be of much consequence. Pan aimed for the feline familiar and its rider. That rider headed toward the Iruedian ships, ready to give aid to his own failing vanguard.
But, where that failing vanguard had reinforcements, Iruedim just had a planet under invasion. The Volanter would win, with so many good Iruedian mages distracted on the planet below.
The feline rider began a circle. Pan felt it in her grasp, hanging on the edge of a counter. The circle rotated faster, and Pan waited till the last moment. Then, she grabbed hold. She moved the circle, and all its waiting runes to a point at the center of the Volanter reinforcements.
The four ships, whose parts she’d swapped, exploded in little fires at their rears and centers. More ships joined them as the feline rider’s circles finished in rapid succession. Meteors hit the ships; hull breaches opened where none had been before, and swaths of ice formed over guns and turrets.
Pan put a hand over her mouth. “Sotir…how have we survived this guy?”
“Someone has been watching him every battle and shielding against his work – an Iruedian I don’t know. She’s on planet right now. So, you’ll have to tail him. Don’t get too cocky. The damage isn’t as bad as it looks. Capture his next spell and plop it in the same space. Keep moving. That pesky Gladiolus is after you.” Sotir’s tone of voice suggested he found Gladiolus more than pesky.
Pan’s dragon dodged across the field. The thread remained on her tail, and Pan wondered if she could move it. She grabbed the end and tried the same as she’d done with the circle. It couldn’t be moved, but she found it could be retethered. She left the end fraying in space, and her dragon took them away.
Just in time to catch the feline rider beginning another series of circles. Pan’s eyes widened. She grabbed that circle at the last moment too and sent it where Sotir had said it should go.
Destruction rained down on the damaged Volanter, and this time, three ships exploded. A fourth burst into light and fire.
“Nine kills,” Sotir said.
“This is great. It’s too wonderful,” Pan whispered back. She held her head as high off her dragon as she could to better see the fires.
“You’re good at stealing circles and performing counters. It’s akin to what you did as a reaper.”
“Sticking my hands in other people’s business,” Pan said.
“Don’t get too carried away.”
Pan didn’t really hear him. She thought he might have given her some good advice, but she wasn’t sure.
Why make her own circles, when these fools did the work for her?
Aria huddled on the Ischyros’ bridge. She sat in the back, on the floor, beside a console. Sotir had insisted she come with him, but Aria couldn’t see why. She had no work to do, and the agitated auras of Alban’s crew made her eyes water.
Aria blinked. She could have been home with Gavain. She should have been home, receiving treatment – if she ever wanted the life she’d dreamed of. And, she wanted it so bad.
I shouldn’t have left.
Aria thought back to her dream. She tried to recall the eulogies, but she couldn’t remember the exact words. She just had an image of Gavain, Sotir, Irini, former mentors, and especially Pan. All spoke about Aria and how Aria made them feel. The eulogies ignited a mix of pride and shame in Aria, one that she longed to revisit. She couldn’t do that if she died.
I should try again, just a couple more times. Aria had about three weeks till her next chance. She tracked the situation; she was always tracking. I’ve got to get back in time.
Aria tucked her chin to her knees and listened to the officers call back and forth. Their conversations told her more than their mishmash of bright auras. The men and women of the Ischyros reported what they saw. They offered advice via Sotir and not much more.
Alban had taken them out of the fight, choosing instead to flee and give Sotir a chance to make better predictions. The officers still talked about the battle. In a losing situation, it would feel like a useless talk, but Aria heard the news of destroyed ships. Apparently, Pan was busy.
Pan wasn’t too particular about what she took. She had to steal from the feline rider because he was a big enough player that he could really harm her fleet. She stole so much from him that she had him scared to cast.
Other Volanter came to his rescue and chased Pan, with the intent to kill. Her dragon dodged their spells, and what the dragon couldn’t dodge, Pan took and passed off to another Volanter in the stream of pursuit. She didn’t know what half the spells did, but she learned quick. She felt each one’s flavor when they came under her influence.
Pan’s dragon laughed; its flanks heaved. It wound through a cacophony of magic circles while a trail of twenty pursuers tried to get in front of Pan.
Pan laughed too. “We might die, you know. There’s way too many.” She meant it, but she couldn’t take it seriously.
Pan cast a portal of her own, and the dragon zipped through. Pan’s dragon exited at a point just outside the battle.
She glanced at the feline rider and saw him cast again. Two small Iruedian vessels faced off against him, and it was about time. The spells the Iruedians cast countered the effect rather than the execution, but the result was the same. He had been blue-balled, thwarted again.
Pan watched as her pursuers turned and, like a great flock of birds, adjusted their course her way.
“They’re never far behind,” Pan said.
A series of rotating rings flew Pan’s way too. Her dragon started forward, toward the pursuers, and dodged the spell effects as they came. Pan usurped a fiery ring and threw it into the group.
To her aid, zipped a small Iruedian vessel. The vessel trailed seven or eight magic circles, of two rings or more. Pan bet the vessel housed a pack of mages and just in time.
Pan conjured a portal, and her dragon sailed through. They jumped the wall of combatants and ended up on the other side. Pan’s dragon turned to face them again.
Five of her pursuers broke off. Three moved to deal with the Iruedian vessel, and two happened to be on fire.
Pan grabbed more of the rotating circles. Some she flung on ships, but most missed their mark. The dragon caught a spell on its tail, and Pan felt its flank heave. The dragon shook its rear limbs and flew steady again.
Another wave of magic came Pan’s way. She drew a portal to swallow it, but a Volanter winked her portal out.
A foreign portal took its place.
Pan glanced to her side and saw Gladiolus.
“You come back now,” Sotir called.
“Now? No,” Pan said. “That idiot, Gladiolus, just helped me.”
“He’s helping you because you’re getting tired. He’ll capture you if you get too tired. You’ve destroyed eleven ships. Be satisfied.”
Pan’s dragon already flew away. Pan stared back. Gladiolus took care of her pursuit. With a few words, he seemed to have them off her trail, but now he was on it.
I should just kill him. I should turn and kill him. I can do it.
The dragon started to turn.
“Oh no you don’t,” Sotir said.
Pan ignored him. He had no idea what it was like to have someone distract her from the fight at hand. She could have done so much more if Gladiolus hadn’t been in the way the entirety of their short war.
Pan thought she moved forward, but she seemed to be stuck. Stuck in space.
Three Iruedian vessels moved in front of her and cut off Gladiolus.
Pan’s dragon started to drift backwards. She felt it thrash. It whipped from side to side, and Pan held tight.
She glanced above them. A tractor beam from one of the Scaldin vessels had caught her. It pulled her back, and towards the light of an interior bay.
Pan shielded her eyes. She turned away, only to see her opponent grow ever smaller and more harassed by the Iruedians.
“Sotir!”
“Please cooperate. If you don’t, someone might die, and that won’t be good for you. You’re tired. He will capture you, and if he has you, we’ll never see each other again.”
Pan held her breath. Her dragon continued to thrash. She wanted to continue the fight too, but she wanted Sotir more. Pan stroked her dragon’s back.
“Calm down. We just have to calm down. Maybe, the fight will be long enough, and we’ll get another chance at him.”
The dragon roared. Pan felt the vibrations roll through her body.
Pan glanced up at the light again. She doubted anyone would be in that bay, without being heavily armed, with all the right kinds of weapons. Thank the Mother Tree.
Rooks’ ships cleaned up the fight. They destroyed all but twelve of the Volanter vessels, and though she’d lost a ship as had the Scaldin, they’d come out better. The planet reported itself free of Volanter – living Volanter.
And, Inez, along with her contingent of mages, soared around a clear Iruedian space. They set up conditions that were not ideal for wormhole development. Inez informed Rooks that the spell would be permanent. They could not take it back, but no one minded. Just in case, Inez’s team steered well clear of the real wormhole, lest they accidentally destroy its purpose.
“I think Pan deserves a medal,” Rooks said to Alban.
“Well, after she wakes from the suppressant, we can discuss it.”
“This power suppressant. Can we use it against Volanter?” Rooks asked.
“Maybe, but we’ll have to produce it in much higher quantities. When you called us, we didn’t have the factories ready to pump it out. Volanter take a dose about five times higher than the average arcane. Three times higher than Pan, though I erred on the low side for her this time.”
Rooks narrowed her eyes. “Delivery system would be a problem.”
“That’s what I’m thinking. They’re either on their ships or protected by their familiars. We had a big job getting Pan’s familiar to lower that scale shield it makes. I say – we – but of course, I wasn’t there. I heard it was hard. No casualties though. Thanks to Sotir.”
Rooks took a long breath. “I don’t know if she should be exposed to that familiar for long periods of time.”
“It does seem to have an effect on her, but in this case, I think she was having a little too much fun reaping.”
“Maybe. She’s got a few flaws, but we don’t have to let them be fatal ones.”
God knew that Pan’s particular brand of spellwork was too useful to just drop out of caution.
Alban said, “I’m doing my best for her.”
Rooks smiled. “You are, and your best is pretty good.”
“Oh, high praise.”
Silence followed, and Rooks recalled Aria’s words about Alban. Supposedly, he had a little crush on Rooks, if they could call it a crush at their ages. Rooks didn’t often return notions of romance. The higher she got in her career, the more it took to distract her. Alban might have what it took.
First, Rooks had to deal with the Volanter.
The Volanter left pieces of themselves strewn over Iruedim, in the vacuum of space as well as below. Rooks gripped the rail and slouched. She was not excited at the prospect of discovering more Volanter secrets. The slag looked more like a mess than treasure. She needed to clean up, and she had one less ship to do it. She also had a lot less people.
“You’ve gone very quiet,” Alban said.
“I didn’t bring a lot of Girandolans to Iruedim. I just lost almost a fifth of them on the Ranseur.” Rooks knew a good bunch of that fifth too.
“I’m sorry.”
Rooks had thought she was getting an easy promotion. In Girandola, she would never head an entire government’s fleet. Isolated from other planets, Rooks thought she would be ready for it. She didn’t bargain for Curator sized problems.
“The Ischyros will stick around for some of the cleanup. A couple of weeks. We can visit,” Alban offered.
“Sure. We’ll visit,” Rooks agreed.