Rooks knew she was supposed to stay away and let the Scaldin handle it. She’d lent them six-hundred and fifty-three mages, most of those willing volunteers. That was what the Scaldin asked for and what the Scaldin got, in addition to some thirty or so magical items.
Rooks offered her services too, yet those services were refused. She wasn’t sure if it was the anti-social culture of the Scaldin or a selfless move to keep Iruedim safe as well. In the case of Alban, Rooks thought it might be genuine care for her situation and that of her new home planet.
As she piloted her little shuttle, Rooks couldn’t help but wonder about Alban. She forgot that she sat between Castles and Inez, and Rooks wondered aloud. “He’s a bit like this man I used to know, during my training.”
“Who?” Inez asked.
In her younger years, Rooks would have frozen, but she continued to work the controls. “Sorry. You two were so quiet; I forgot you were there. It doesn’t matter. He long since surpassed me. Got married a while ago. Plus, he lives in Girandola.”
Rooks watched the map of the Scaldin solar system. Behind, it showed the wormhole as a single swirling circle. Ahead, it showed a long line of ships and probes. They were close to the defense perimeter.
“But, who’s like him?” Inez asked.
Rooks sighed. “Alban.”
“Ooo, Alban,” Inez added. “He’s nice.”
Rooks sighed again.
Castles shrugged. “New man. New chance. Did you get him flowers? I bet he’d like that.” Casltes smiled.
“I bet he would, but I didn’t have the time,” Rooks shot back.
Castles chuckled. “Yeah. Maybe he got you flowers.”
“He’s so into you,” Inez added.
“Maybe. Maybe not.” Rooks tapped the controls. “In any case, we aren’t staying long. We’re just going to review their defenses, see if we can offer any additional help, and then we’ll be on our way home. Starting a relationship with a man who lives galaxies away isn’t such a smart move.”
“There’s the wormhole.” Inez gestured somewhere behind them.
“Mmmhmmm,” Rooks hummed.
“Romance by wormhole,” Castles considered. “Could work.”
“Could,” Rooks added. She rather believed it was worth a shot herself.
The proximity sensor beeped, and Rooks stared out the view. The Scaldin defense perimeter loomed ahead of their small shuttle. Over forty large ships and twenty large probes spread across space. Stars peppered the sky in quantities Rooks hadn’t seen in months.
She sent a text greeting, open to all the ships. She didn’t think they would mistake her little vessel for a Volanter. The markings were clearly Iruedian, but she wanted to be clearer.
“We’re not going to call them?” Inez asked.
Rooks held up a hand. “We’ll let them make the first move.”
Just as Rooks predicted, her com buzzed, with an incoming message.
“By my branches and roots, it’s Wren!” Alban’s voice teased. “And, you don’t have a giant ship to hide inside for the first time ever. I hope you aren’t here because you heard about our failed negotiations and judged us lacking.”
The Ischyros started to move forward, out of formation.
Rooks did not smile on the outside. She tapped the com button. “We just want to see how else we can help.”
“That’s fine. I volunteered to host you, unless you want a bigger ship,” Alban said.
Rooks touched her com again. “The Ischyros will be just fine. So, I see you have a pretty big formation here. Not much I could add.”
“We told you.”
Rooks looked left and right. She found Inez grinning. Castles just watched her. Rooks shook her head.
She drew a breath and asked, “Did you need any processing help for the magic suppressant? I know you said that the factories couldn’t pump it out fast enough.”
“Funny you should ask. Our supply is fine – for now. We’re not even sure we’ll be able to use it.”
Rooks frowned. “Why’s that funny?”
“I haven’t gotten to the funny part.” Alban seemed to have a smile in his voice. “One of your Iruedian mages got the first taste.”
Rooks kept a hand on the controls but sat back. “That’s still not funny.”
“Let me finish.” Alban cleared his throat. “Irini picked up a gun and tried her hand at some combat. She has no training, so of course, she missed. She tried to hit Ranunculus. She got your mage instead.” Alban paused, as the humor in his voice dissipated. “Don’t mention it.”
Movement fluttered from Inez’s chair. Rooks glanced over. Inez swiped through her tablet and diagrams of Scaldin anatomy and suppressant effects flitted over the screen.
Alban continued, “By the way, I’m about to order an engineer to accompany Irini and Arai to Pen Pal. Unless you can convince Eva.”
“Technically, she outranks me. Though, Sten might be willing to stand in for her. I wish Irini had stayed longer. I bet we could have gotten him and sent them on their way. Who got suppressed? Will they recover?” Rooks asked.
“A Tagtrumian mage by the name of Marcaria. She’s already regained her magic. She was out for twelve hours.”
Rooks felt her eyebrows rise. “So, I guess magic suppressant will be useful against the Volanter, should they board any of your ships.”
“Yes. I’ve just issued suppressant guns to trained individuals, and they will use them in case of boarding parties. In defense of Iruedim, your mages did an excellent job keeping Volanter off our ships. So, I don’t know how useful suppressant will be, but...” Humor reentered Alban’s voice. “If they come naked into our midst, as we know they will, we’ll be ready.”
Castles laughed. Inez kept her nose buried in her tablet.
Rooks smiled. The Volanter wore the barest minimum of clothing – even less than Scaldin civilians.
Rooks agreed, “True. The big question is whether any of your people will get dressed for the occasion?”
“The general population will wear whatever they please. Navy and law enforcement will, of course, be dressed. While you’re here, why don’t you try out some of our…” Alban’s words got cut off.
Inez clapped a hand over her mouth. “Volanter ships. Oh god, between us and the wormhole. What should we do?”
Rooks pushed the ship forward. It had been a long time since she piloted a ship for herself, so she hoped the Volanter left their little shuttle alone. “We’re going to the Ischyros to wait this out.”
The Ischyros continued to break formation. It lowered itself from the herd and moved forward. Other ships surged forward to meet the coming Volanter.
“I can’t see to cast.” Inez looked back, as if wishing for a rear window.
“Don’t worry about it. They’ll cover us. We’ll get aboard, and hopefully, we won’t have messed up their defense,” Rooks said.
The shuttle jolted.
Castles hit a few keys and shook her head. “We’re not moving forward anymore.”
“I noticed,” Rooks answered.
“I think we may be stuck in a Volanter version of a tractor beam.”
The view in front of Rooks fizzled, breaking up into squares of color. It seemed the Volanter version of a tractor beam was more of a teleporter.
Next to Rooks, Inez furiously wrote on a piece of paper. It looked like magic.
Castles pressed every button, including a few combinations that seemed to be utter nonsense.
Rooks just sat there. This is what I get for wanting to visit Alban. It always happens like this.
Once in a time past, when she was a resident of Girandola, there here had been an instance where she let her guard down to visit a particular man. She got captured by pirates and had to wait for a rescue. She’d been just a recruit then. She didn’t take leave again, until she was an officer. She found herself another man and tried to visit him, a smooth, accomplished man. She ended up at the center of a border dispute, one that he’d thought had wrapped up. The very thought of those men’s names embarrassed her. They were best left forgotten.
Her view outside the ship changed. It grew dim. A tangle of wires and pipes looked something like roots, snaking along the wall. It was the inside of a Volanter bay.
Castles leaned over into Rooks’ space. “I’m 1.2 percent Volanter. Think they’ll keep me for breeding stock? Or, do you think they’ll kill me?”
Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.
“I’m 2 percent. If they kill me, they’ll kill you for sure.”
Castles nodded at Inez. “How much is she?”
Inez scribbled on her paper. She seemed to have something of a circle.
“I don’t remember off the top of my head.” Rooks squinted to see more of Inez’s drawing. “I do know that before we fought them, they would have welcomed us if we were only .0001 percent. That’s how the contract works.”
Castles relaxed and slumped slightly in her seat. “Right.” Suddenly, Castles tensed and sat tall. “But we ruined that.”
“We broke the contract. There’s a difference.”
Inez picked up her page and stared at it with wide eyes. “We don’t have to stay. I’ve been studying Pan’s portal spell, and I made my own version. It’s not as complex as a wormhole, but it might be a stretch for me. Here goes.”
Inez put the paper back on her console.
Rooks gestured to Castles to get her hands on the weapons. Volanter were headed their way.
“Don’t shoot yet. Maybe, they’ll just try to pry our ship open, and we can escape before things get out of hand.” Still, Rooks rested her hand on the trigger.
The engine continued to hum, still under their control.
Inez’s portal circle appeared before them. It was a barrier of light between the ship and the Volanter. Rooks could just see the Volanter on the other side. They paused and stared. With its geometric shapes and five rings, filled with runes, the circle was an intimidating sight to those who drew their magic with looping symbols. The center of the circle rippled and expanded. It showed the way back into space.
Rooks pushed the ship into it, and they shot back out, also into the middle of a battle.
Their shuttle took a hit, and Rooks dodged below the shots. She aimed the shuttle’s nose down and broke out of the main fray. Spells coursed above them. Shots moved between the two navies, and Volanter on familiars began to spill out, meeting fighters, piloted by an officer and passengered by a mage.
Rooks stayed below it all. They’d come out closer to the Scaldin navy, or maybe, the navy had just moved closer to them. Rooks checked the coordinates. It seemed to be a bit of both.
The tingle and light of magic passed over their ship.
“What did you do?” Rooks asked.
“It’s a shield spell. Nothing fancy, and definitely nothing in the realm of decay,” Inez answered.
“Always good to hear.” Rooks spotted the Ischyros.
It exchanged fire, but having spotted Rooks’ shuttle, it started to move down and towards her.
“How did you get out of that?” Alban called.
“Inez. Portal spell. Can we come aboard?” Rooks angled up, betting on a yes.
“Of course. Hurry,” Alban answered.
“What does he think we’re doing?” Inez asked. “We’re going as fast as we can.”
If Rooks could make it to the Ischyros, then her pursuit of Alban would be a cut above the rest.
Pan sat in her favorite chair. Over one arm, she ran a hand, feeling the silky thread of its blue embroidery. On the other arm, she propped a single elbow and rested her chin in her hand. She stared out her cottage window. She saw nothing but darkness.
Of course, she wouldn’t see the battle from her little corner of Scaldigir, no matter how much she squinted or furrowed her brow.
Alban sent someone to get her. He said that Sotir gave his blessing for Pan to be involved in the fight. Pan reluctantly gave hers too. If Sotir thought she could handle it, she probably could. But, the shuttle and officer were nowhere in sight. That left Pan stranded.
Pan might awaken her dragon. She toyed with the idea but knew the familiar would never play taxi service. It would fly past the Ischyros and ignore Pan’s specific summons to that singular ship. The dragon would close its scale cage, press her to its back, and take her through the battle, tempting her to destruction.
But, Pan couldn’t ride on dragon back. She couldn’t lay flat on her stomach. The quick motions and lack of a true upwards direction might awaken her backgrounded nausea, and then, she could pollute her own safe space with vomit.
Pan preferred to cast circles from a ship’s bridge. So, she waited.
In the background, the television played, and Pan took her gaze from the window to watch the news.
On the screen, was a grey woman, with perfect dark grey hair. She sat at a desk and folded her hands atop it; its edge embossed with flowers. Words scrolled below that, and other messages lined the space around her head.
The newscaster said, “The Volanter have engaged our fleet, just ahead of the planned defense perimeter. All the fighting is taking place past Tesserar.”
Tesserar was the fourth planet in the Scaldin system. Scaldigir was the second, so as far as the universe was concerned, the battle was lightyears away. As far as the Scaldin were concerned, the battle was in their backyard.
The newscaster continued: “The Volanter fleet might have anywhere from twenty to thirty vessels.” The report fizzled on the screen.
More static followed.
Pan groaned. Their reception was terrible. Sotir said that some fiberoptics would be run to their area soon, but Pan bet it would be long after the war was over.
She grabbed her com and texted Aria. What’s the news say?
Her message appeared on the screen, but no time indicated it had been sent. A moment later her com said, Message failed to send.
“This sucks.” Pan tossed her com on the couch. She put her hands in her lap. “They’re fighting without me. First time ever.” Pan’s eyes strayed to the window. “I wonder if they’ll win.”
Pan got up. She crossed her warm wood floor and stopped before the door. Pan slipped into her shoes and placed her hand on the knob. Outside was a good place to call a dragon. On the other hand, she knew of a public com near the postal and train stations. It was a twenty-minute drive. She could ask for an update on her ride.
Pan pulled the door open and stepped into the night. She locked the door behind her, though the wards could take care of it. Pan had a fire-proof, peep-proof, invader-proof house. She’d yet to put it to the test, but she believed in her magic.
A cool, ocean wind blew, and Pan hugged herself. The porch light threw just enough glow to see the small deck and blue car. It also threw just enough to turn the sky dark and hide the stars.
Pan shuffled down the steps and over her dirt driveway. She pressed the handle of her car. It clicked as it unlocked. She tugged the door open and got in. She slammed the door. With a quick tap of the button, her engine started. Pan buckled herself and grabbed the wheel. Her fingers caressed the leather, textured with a pattern of leaves.
Pan checked the mirror. It was too dark. So, she twisted just enough to see behind her. Then, she backed little blue out of the driveway and turned onto the bumpy dirt road.
The drive took her down a gradual slope, weaving side to side. Pan had her lights on, but not on full, as she didn’t want to inconvenience any porza that might live beside her house. The black, white, and grey animals lived during the night. They stank, but she liked them anyway.
Pan was just about to turn onto the main road, an actual creation of pavement and traffic lines. She’d grown to hate that bump from dirt to smooth tar. It really jostled her bladder. But, once she got on the smooth road, she would relish it.
Pan paused at the turn.
She tapped herself lightly on the head. “I forgot my license.” She sighed. “It’s just a few minutes. What do you say we just break one law, little blue? Yeah, I think so too.”
Pan pressed the gas and bumped slow onto the road, where her ride became smoother.
A flash of strong lights blinded Pan, and she hurried onto her side. Pan began to drive, blinking back the tears that the light pulled from her eyes.
The light idled past, then whipped around, and came through her back windshield.
Pan blinked hard again.
“Why do they have brights on?” she said to little blue.
A pair of headlights appeared ahead of Pan, also on full.
She hummed her disgust, until the lights swerved into her lane. Then, her voice froze, and she turned sudden off the road. Her little blue car bumped into a ditch and came to a halt. Both of the other cars, lights still ablaze, stopped and boxed her in.
“Mother tree, Aria was right.” Pan scooted from driver’s side to passenger side. She stared out the window, thankful for the strong lights.
She had a view many yards into the forest.
Pan drew a portal and slid through, not out to safety, but to a chance to escape.
Aria shifted on the couch. She drew her legs up and prepared to curl into a ball. She grabbed Gavain’s shoulder and almost settled her head there.
Aria’s com buzzed. She uncurled and grabbed it.
“What’s the news say?” The electronic voice read. It was the voice that Aria had assigned for Pan because it sounded a bit bored and a touch sarcastic.
Aria sat with Gavain. He watched the news, though there wasn’t much but speculation. One news ship had already been damaged getting too close to the fight, and they were ordered to stay back.
Gavain, brow furrowed, soaked up every piece of speculation. His aura oozed yellow and not his usual friendly shade. “I’m glad we made it out before this started.”
Aria nodded. Then, she pressed a button and spoke to her com. “Nothing much. Did you lose signal? You’re getting through to me.”
Aria waited.
Finally, she got the familiar answer: “Message failed to send.” It lit up her screen in a red shade that just glowed through the aura.
Aria couldn’t read the words, but she knew they were there. And, she knew that Pan’s coverage had gone spotty again. It happened about twice a week and interrupted a day’s worth of communication.
“I can’t get through to Pan,” Aria told Gavain.
His gaze softened, as he looked away from the tv. He took the com from Aria and tapped away. “Sorry. Nothing I can do. Did she get her ground line set up?”
Aria felt her eyes widen. “Oh, she did. I think I saw it when I visited.” Aria rose from the couch.
“You might try it.” Gavain twisted to watch her go.
Aria snatched up her own ground line.
They had it only to communicate with Pan. It was a suggestion from Sotir’s parents, who also lived in the middle of nowhere.
Aria liked it. She could see all its elements in her own blue shades: the curve of the ear and mouth piece, and the upraised buttons, if not the numbers.
She scooped up the receiver. With a single finger, Aria punched the keys and dialed Pan’s number. She heard it ring and ring. She let it ring some more. “She’s not answering.”
“She might be in the bathroom or asleep. You don’t know how long ago she sent that message. Or, maybe, the officer came and got her.” Gavain kept his gaze fixed on the tv. “She’s supposed to join the fight, remember?”
“I don’t like that.” Aria held the phone and let it ring. She watched the television, and the phone drifted a short distance from her ear. She could still hear it and would know if Pan picked up. “What about the hateful man? The one that followed us and wanted to know if we were arcane.”
Gavain slowly turned in his seat. “I don’t think he – if he’s as bad as you say – would assault Pan during a battle.”
“He was very threatening.”
The phone continued to ring.
“He threatened you? I thought you said…” Gavain’s aura showed its purple, a shade between righteous and prideful. A bit of red also crept in.
Aria shook her head. “Not exactly. I got that from his aura.”
Still, the line rang.
“I respect your aura reading. If you’re that concerned about him, maybe Pan and Sotir will have to rethink their living arrangements. But, I thought Sotir was pretty happy with it.”
Aria shrugged. “Sotir bought the place, but I think he missed something. We can’t ask him now. He’s in the battle.”
Gavain got up from his seat. “Is that still ringing?”
Aria nodded.
“Put it down. Let’s go.” Gavain strode across the room.
Aria put the receiver down. It clicked into place, and the ringing stopped. It seemed so final. Still, Aria pictured their eventual ring on Pan’s bell. She envisioned a grumpy, sleepy-eyed Pan at the door. Aria would feel silly. Pan would complain that her wards could take care of her.
“She put wards around her house. She’s probably not in trouble,” Aria said.
“Well, you’re going to worry about it, so let’s go.” Gavain tugged his coat on. “If she’s not answering, she’s probably with Alban and Sotir. On the other hand, she might have fallen down the stairs. I know you’re quite the fall risk. We’ll just check.” Gavain looked Aria up and down. “Do you want to stay and have me go alone?”
Aria shook her head. She grabbed her coat. “No, I want to come. Thanks for going.”
“Short stay on the Volanter vessel. Didn’t you care for it?” Alban whispered to Rooks as she joined him on his bridge.
Rooks huffed a quiet laugh.
“No, I know. You just couldn’t wait to get to the Ischyros. The detour was unbearable.”
Rooks tried not to smile. “The truth is the Ischyros has much better food – I think.” Rooks caught motion out of the corner of her eyes.
She turned to find Castles, staring at the view of Volanter ships. Worry knotted Castles’ brow. Just to the side of that worried expression, Rooks saw Inez, wearing a wide grin.
Rooks gestured to the large window. “Inez! Do you see those ships outside?”
Inez’s grin fell off her face. She stuttered and faced the window.
“You’re a mage aboard a ship under attack. Why don’t you make the situation better?” Rooks gave Inez her best dissatisfied look, a look she would never try on Inez’s brother Eder.
Inez faced the view and began to work her magic. Inez, never a fast caster, began a complex spell. Rooks had no doubt the result would be worth the wait.
“I hope they don’t go for the wormhole,” Alban said. “You aren’t there.”
Rooks leaned close and kept her voice low. “I agree. But, you had a nice defense set up there too.”
“We’re getting quite fond of you Iruedians,” Alban said just above a whisper. “Well, most of us. There were the few people who wanted to cower before the Volanter, but the rest of us just want to pretend we’re cowering.”
Rooks could say no more. The battle outside captured her attention. It was certainly less spectacular, without their missing reaper and her space sized magic.