Chains of Mist (12 page)

Still the
to’laka
pulled, pulled…

And
released
.

A conflagration ignited around the Kastria warriors. Great gouts of fire that burned higher and hotter than any natural flame wreathed the eleven enemy tribesmen in a cage of infernal fury. The Kastria did not panic—they were seasoned warriors who had been warned of what to expect. But fear danced in their eyes, and their spears shook in their hands.

Lerana felt the
Jo’ma
’s spirit swell, and power exploded from the old woman’s ethereal form. The flames leapt higher, dancing far above the warriors’ heads. The Kastria began to panic, their composure cracking as they realized that they were doomed. They were brave and strong, but this was not an enemy that could be fought with spears. They were overmatched and they knew it.

The
Jo’ma
spoke again. “Let none escape.”

One of the Kastria warriors lowered his shoulder and dashed towards the flames. Lerana concentrated, hurling the man back towards his fellows with a thrust of invisible power. He fell heavily and did not rise. A second warrior also tried to escape and met a similar fate. The others clustered together, their weapons raised defensively. But within moments their spears began to waver in their hands as the heat and smoke leeched away their strength. They swayed, their eyes drooping. One by one they toppled to the ground like dead tree branches.

When the last Kastria lay motionless, Lerana relinquished her grasp on her power. Immediately, the roaring fires faded away. The Traika defenders emerged from the night; some moved to gather up the fallen weapons, while others bound the unconscious Kastria with thick ropes. One of the Traika, a tall man marked as their leader by the sleeve of blood-stained dairang-hide around his right forearm, glanced skyward and made the sign of Ja’nal, passing one closed fist diagonally across his face.

“You have done well, my children,” murmured the
Jo’ma
. “Ja’nal praise you.”

As if the
Jo’ma
’s voice had broken a dam within her, Lerana felt her strength leave her in a rush. Exhaustion swept over her; her spirit form wavered, and she was pulled back towards her body. The world blurred and fuzzed before her waking eyes. She had just enough awareness to feel a tingling in her fingers and to note the faint aroma of charred flesh.

Then the world melted away.

-5-

The Tellarian cutter
Dormant Sea
—which was no longer disguised as a personal transport like it had been for the voyage to Leva and Hilthak, and instead bore its military markings and corresponding armament in all of their magnificent glory—dropped out of u-space as smoothly as a grav-train moving from one section of magnetic rail to the next. The whirling kaleidoscope of colors outside the main aft viewport was replaced by a single planet and two moons, looming in front of the ship. “There it is,” said Drogni. “Espir.”

Silence greeted Drogni’s words, as he was quite alone at the moment. Austin had joined him in the cockpit for the first part of the thirty-five hour voyage from Tellaria to Espir, and the two of them had made rather awkward small talk for a while. But both men were too focused on the mission ahead of them to find any comfort in conversation, and eventually Austin had taken leave to one of the ship’s sleeping cabins, where he had stayed for the remainder of the trip. Meanwhile, Makree had spent nearly the entirety of the time secluded in another cabin; on the few occasions that he had emerged, he had said nothing, and a haunted, introspective look had clouded his face. Clearly something about Espir was troubling him, but Drogni had not pressed him.
He’ll have his wits straight when things start to get messy. Good soldier, that one—one of the best. He proved that on Leva, and on Hilthak…and now, on Espir, he’ll prove it again.

Physically, the planet Espir was quite stunning. Its surface was a brilliant combination of blue, green, and white, its atmosphere as clear as crystal. It bore none of the scars of pollution, deforestation, or other industrialization—it was as pristine as a goddess’s jewel. But Drogni knew that beneath that idyllic appearance lurked a creature of evil. Strapped across his back, the Mari’eth blade
Ss’aijas K’sejjas
burned with inner heat. Whatever magical properties the sword possessed appeared to have recharged since his battle with Rokan Sellas on Hilthak, for which Drogni was exceedingly grateful.
Not that I actually know how to
use
any of its powers, but even if it only blunts Rokan Sellas’s abilities a little, then it’ll be more use than pretty much anything else we’ve got.
He stared down at Espir, picturing himself finally finishing what he thought he’d ended fifteen years ago.
I know you’re down there, Rokan Sellas. And I’m coming for you.

The soft sound of footsteps interrupted Drogni’s thoughts. “Quite a sight, isn’t it?” said Aras Makree, his voice equal parts awe and sadness. “In all my years, I have seen few worlds so…untouched.”

Untouched, yeah.
In Drogni’s
experience, ‘untouched’ meant dangerous
. Usually nasty critters big enough to eat you in one bite, just like that.
“Yeah, well, looks can be deceiving. You know what’s down there.”

Makree was silent for a moment. “All too well,” he said finally. Something in his voice told Drogni that he wasn’t talking just about Rokan Sellas. Again, Drogni wondered what was going on in the Sergeant Major’s mind. He had assumed from what he knew of Makree that the veteran soldier would, over the course of their voyage, come to terms with whatever was bothering him; that he had apparently not done so made Drogni uneasy. The odds were against them as it was; the last thing they could afford was for one of their number to go into battle without a clear head.
We can talk about it once we touch down
, he decided.
We
will
talk about it, in fact.

The ship flitted between Espir’s two moons—the first small and rocky, the second much larger and sparkling with a rolling ocean that the ship’s instruments determined to be mostly methane and nitrogen—and then passed through the planet’s atmosphere as easily as it had transitioned from u-space to realspace. Drogni found himself looking down at spacious green and orange fields and thick, soaring forests peeking through dense low-hanging clouds. Giant birds with hooked bills winged ponderously around them, eyes fixed on the tiny figures of various herbivores feeding below, and Drogni had no doubt that more predators lurked hidden within tall grasses and in the shadow of looming trees. “I’m not picking up any readings of advanced technology,” he said. “That’s not surprising; Espir’s officially off-limits to anyone except for Federation-sanctioned research missions. But since the last one of those was about fifty years ago, I’d say we probably don’t have to worry that we’re technically breaking the law by being here. There’s no need to push our luck, though, so I’ll go ahead and put us down as close to Nembane Mountain as I can. We’re about three hundred klicks away, so we’re looking at about ten minutes.”

“Yes, of course,” replied Makree, but the reply seemed mechanical, as if he had barely heard Drogni. His gaze was fixed intensely on the planet below, his jaw tight. “I will tell Austin that we have arrived,” the Sergeant Major continued, and then he was gone.

In the distance, a single mountain loomed from the earth like a watchtower of death, its snow-capped peak reaching up to pierce through the clouds. As they drew closer,
Ss’aijas K’sejjas
began to vibrate and emit a faint high-pitched whine. The heat emanating from the Mari’eth blade intensified, burning colder and fiercer until the pain forced Drogni to tear the weapon from his back.

In that moment, the sword suddenly went silent.

In the same moment, all the ship’s instruments went dark.

Instantly, Drogni was on his feet and moving, dashing from the cockpit like bottled lightning. As he ran, he instinctively counted down seconds in his head—
five…four…three…
If the emergency systems didn’t activate before he reached zero, they weren’t going to activate at all…and in his gut he already knew that they wouldn’t.
Two…one…zero. Time to evac—now!

Drogni reached the emergency hatch doors to find Austin and Makree already there. Without a word, Makree tossed him a parachute harness and survival rucksack; the Sergeant Major had already donned his, but Austin was still securing his straps. Drogni slipped into the harness, the weight of the rucksack across his back oddly comforting.
Damn, but I’ve missed this. Simulations just aren’t quite the same as the real thing.
He glanced over at Austin, whose face had turned very pale. He hoped that the Ambassador remembered his training briefs—at this point there wasn’t much that Drogni could do to help him but try to keep an eye on him as he was falling
.
“Austin, Sergeant Makree will jump first, then you’re next, and I’ll be last. We’ll join up on the ground, but if we get separated just head for the mountain. Understand?”

Austin nodded, his eyes very wide. He muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like, “I hate heights.”

Drogni smiled inwardly, thinking back to his first jump, thirty-two years ago.
I hear you, kid. I wasn’t too fond of them at first either.

Makree moved to the door release. “Ready, Admiral?” he asked, his voice curt but calm. Drogni nodded, and the Sergeant Major pulled the lever. With a hiss that was almost immediately lost as the howl of the wind filled the room, the door slid sideways into the hull. As Drogni looked out at the trees, so tiny below them, and felt the power of the wind shake through his bones, he felt suddenly young again.
No aching joints or tired bones in freefall—nothing except you and the rush of freedom.

A sudden burst of wind shook the ship, and Drogni, mesmerized by the beauty of the view, nearly lost his balance. Beside him, Austin was pitched from his feet, arms flailing for some kind of purchase but finding nothing. Drogni reached out one hand for Austin, bracing himself against the deck plates with the other, but his fingers grasped air.

Another blast of turbulence struck them, and Austin was pitched towards the open door. Sliding past Makree’s outstretched arms, the Ambassador tumbled out into the sky, a tiny shape that was visible for only a moment before it vanished among the clouds.

The two soldiers exchanged a glance, and then without a word they jumped after Austin, even though Drogni knew that it was already too late to help him.
As high up as we are, the wind will toss us around like corks—and with the clouds as thick as they are we’ll never see him even if by chance the winds blow us the same way. Austin, I hope you remember your training—I’ve already lost five soldiers, and I’ll be damned if I lose another. When we land, I’ll find you—I promise.

And Drogni rocketed through the clouds.

* * * *

As Roger brought his new ship out of u-space, he felt a sudden ripple of unseen power pass over him. He tasted bitterness in the back of his throat, so powerful that he nearly gagged. Beside him, Talan flinched, and Roger knew that the old man had felt it too. “What the hell was that?”

Talan drew a deep, shuddering breath. Whatever had happened had obviously affected the old man much more than Roger. That seemed strange, though admittedly Roger didn’t really have any frame of reference to determine what was ‘strange’ in the realm of ripples of unseen power. “It is the planet,” said Talan, his voice strained. “Its power burgeons. Forces that have long lain dormant are now awakening and reasserting themselves over a world that has all but forgotten them. The magic of this world, and others like it, is strong beyond anything else…strong, and
dominant
. In the presence of such power, all other magic—and magic-wielders—must eventually submit…or die.”

“Submit?” Roger didn’t like the sound of that.
Roger Warbanks submits to no authority but his own.
“Back up there a moment—are you saying the planet itself is hostile? As in, the whole planet—sticks, stones, trees, oceans—actively working to kill me?” He reached for the ship’s controls, preparing to turn it back around and jump straight back into u-space. “If you think I’m going down there, you’ve got another thing coming. I can and will fight just about anything that runs, flies, or swims, but I draw the line at planets. Got it?”

Talan—despite his still-apparent discomfort—seemed amused. “Calm yourself, Roger. The planet’s energies are not hostile, and there is nothing
active
about the way they operate. Think of them instead like gravity—pervasive and constant, but neither sentient nor actually dangerous. Moreover, the process I describe is hardly instantaneous; a powerful enough individual—which, by virtue of the ring you wear, you are—can resist the control for months, even years, especially if they are aware of what is happening. I can assure you that you are in no danger.”

Roger still wasn’t entirely convinced, but he reluctantly kept the ship on course to Espir.
I suppose he knows what he’s talking about. Besides, I’ve got a bad feeling that I’m going to have to get used to this sort of thing happening way too often from now on.
“Fine—but let’s make this fast, alright? Just land, do…whatever it is you need to do…and then we get the hell outta there.”