Chapter 37

“Proposal Two: The shikari are the watchdogs of the Aions. Knowing that they would no longer have a physical presence upon this plane of existence, the Aions recognized that they would still need something here to protect the resources that they were leaving behind for specific purposes. To this end, they created the shikari, a species so deadly that only beings with magic at their disposal would have a hope of being able to contend with them, thus preventing any explorers who lacked the capability to make use of the resources that the Aions had left behind unable to access them, corrupt them, or do them damage.”

—The Shikari Potentialities, Olivan Veilbohr

There is one option left. Mira announced, rescuing Sylvas from his despair. The Ardent Crest put its bearer into a state of suspended animation when they were approaching death.

“We don’t have a crest. We left all that behind when we joined up with Hector—”

But the fundamental nature of the suspended animation is rooted in gravity magic. The same as our experiments with time. We can’t fix him, but we can stop him.

“Give me the spell, quickly.”

If Mira was put out by Sylvas’ brusqueness, she didn’t let it show, feeding the spellforms and words through to his mind. He cast before he’d even received the full spell because already he could tell that they had no time to waste. It was a race against the clock to stop time for Hector before his injuries overcame him, and it wasn’t helped by the fact that Cookie had woken up inside of him. Hector’s back arched, the broken-off stub of his spine dragging across the floor as he flopped around. The eidolon within him was struggling to protect its home. It snarled and snapped at Sylvas even as he was trying to bring his spell together and save the man from what was currently inevitable. Had it been capable of nothing more than flopping around like a wounded fish, Sylvas would not have been too concerned, but magic was washing off Hector’s body, too, spellforms and counterspells and all the other interruptions that he could not afford the time to pick apart. Treacherously, he wished that Bael were here. He would have been able to tackle every one of these instantly cast interruptions.

Hector was about to die because Bael wasn’t here. Because he’d turned his back on Sylvas and the friendship that they’d built from nothing. Because he had been an enemy all along. Strife, finally stirred, saw the resistance in its counterpart in Hector, and came roaring to the surface. Blood burst out from all of Sylvas’ untended wounds that he hadn’t even noticed. From every little cut, from his pores, his eyes, his ears, and every drop of it twisted out to form the face of the wolf within him. To snarl at the eidolon within Hector. To put fear into something that should not have known fear. It was cowed, and it retreated. Hector’s body went still, and Sylvas was able to complete the stasis spell. He was breathing raggedly, awash in his own blood, and all that he could do was whisper, “Thank you,” to the monster that possessed him.

Staggering to his feet, Sylvas reached out a hand, flexed the gravity he could command, and tore the cocoon of metalwork away from where Malachai was imprisoned.

What he had been expecting was another bloodbath, another friend on the verge of death, judging by the way that Kaya had described the state of things before she’d sealed him in, but nothing could have been further from the truth. Malachai wasn’t on the verge of death. He was half-dead. His pristine outfit was in tatters down his right side, burns, frostbite, and cuts apparent everywhere that Sylvas’ eyes could see. Half his face was a rictus of pain, all of the skin twisted out of its perfect shape and into a mockery of the calm face that Malachai always presented. It would take an expert to fix. To set him right and looking human again. But nowhere throughout this litany of pain was the damage worse than his arm and his leg.

They were simply gone. Torn off or blasted apart when the first barrage hit. Malachai had no access to healing magic and no way to repair himself the way that Sylvas, Hector, or even Kaya did. All that he had was his necromancy. His necromancy and a dead arm and leg detached from their owner. They were animate bones now. Surrounded by a nimbus glow of the dark green mana that always screamed of death to Sylvas. With no other tools at his disposal, he had healed himself with death. He stepped out into the hallway, trying to look as calm and collected as ever, but Sylvas could see the tears pooling in his eyes. The pain he was in must have been incredible, even before he had hastily attached dead limbs to his body and forced them to work as his own. Sylvas’ breath refused to come. Malachai assumed the burden of conversation. “Stasis seems the wisest option at this juncture. I assume we’re on the planet?”

All that Sylvas could manage to say was, “I’m sorry.”

“We went into battle, and we were injured.” Malachai turned his face away so that Sylvas could not see his grief. “This is… the nature of things.”

Sylvas refused to let his own guilt consume him. “The colony will have healers. We’ll be able to get both of you fixed up.”

“My limbs are a permanent change; I’ve had to make some modifications to allow them to function and preserve my life. But I’m sure some cosmetic changes will allow me to blend in better.” Malachai crouched down to check over Hector’s preserved remains. “With the correct equipment, I believe we will be able to transport him. Do we know our distance to the colony?”

“We had to jump.” Sylvas shifted uncomfortably. “I didn’t see where we were going to land.”

Malachai’s frown deepened. “Do we know the position of the vault and the shikari queen?”

“We could be right on top of it and I wouldn’t know.” Sylvas sighed.

Oh, stop being so maudlin. We can fly up and get our bearings once everyone is confirmed to be alive.

“I will work it out. Can you and Kaya figure out some safe way to transport Hector?”

“Ms. Runemaul lives. Excellent news.” A few days ago, Sylvas would have thought that tone was sarcastic, but he could see a little bit of energy returning to Malachai when he heard the news. Kaya might have spent their entire time together antagonizing him, but somehow, it had been interpreted correctly as her way of showing affection.

Walking back to the ruined remains of the cockpit hurt Sylvas’ heart, but at least his friends were alive, for the most part.

Stepping out through the cockpit into the woods felt bizarre. Like going back in time. One moment he was surrounded by the latest technology that the Empyrean had at its disposal, and the next, here he was under sun-dappled leaves, hearing the familiar sound of the wind rustling through. 

Just like home.

“Unless we can fix the ship, this is home for the foreseeable future,” Sylvas grumbled before launching himself straight up through the canopy and into the open air beyond.

It was flat. Surprisingly flat, in truth. Almost everywhere else that he’d been in the universe had some hills and undulations, but as far as the horizon, there wasn’t a mountain peak to be seen. Even rising higher and higher until the air grew too thin to breathe, there was nothing.

“Any correlation to our maps?” Sylvas asked Mira as they hung there.

I suspect we might need at least one distinctive landmark to begin making a guess, darling.

He closed his eyes and felt for the gravity below. “We are on the day-side of the planet, and we are facing in the direction of its rotation.”

Wonderful, we’ve eliminated half a hemisphere.

“The planet rotates along its vertical axis, so that way is north. Was the colony in the northern or southern hemisphere.”

Northern, Mira replied, begrudgingly.

“So we head that way and look for your distinctive landmarks.” Sylvas couldn’t bring himself to smile after everything that had just happened, even if outsmarting Mira was a very rare treat.

Their scouting mission took the better part of an hour going as fast as they could go. Eventually, they caught sight of a patch of coastline, and they were able to correlate it back to the map. They were actually a dozen miles south-east of the colony. Something that wouldn’t have normally been a massive concern but which placed them about halfway between the colony and where the Consortium had marked the vault. Which meant the shikari.

Sylvas wasn’t sure if the shikari lacked the talent for stealth or simply felt like there was no need for it. But on his return to the downed Folly, he could make out trees moving on the southern horizon. Moving as if disturbed by a minor stampede of animals passing beneath.

Plunging back down and through the cockpit, he found the other three assembled around the dinner table. They had managed to slot poor Hector into some sort of backpack, though his arms and head lolled out of the top no matter how many elasticated straps they used. Before saying a word, Sylvas reached for it, and Kaya blocked his way. “Nope.”

“I’m responsible for—” His argument withered in the face of her stare.

“Nope,” Kaya said again. “He’s riding with me. You’ve got to stay mobile, and I can shield him.”

“I assume from the haste of your approach that the shikari are closing on us,” Malachai interrupted before either could say another word.

Sylvas nodded. “Yes.”

Malachai didn’t roll his eyes, mostly because one of his eyelids was melted half-shut. “Then can we please move?”

With his flight spell on all of them, they soared over the forest canopy. If they remained on foot, Sylvas did not like their chances. The ship had been overtaken by the shikari only moments after they had departed from it, and despite their current height, he had no doubt that the animals were tracking them without much effort. It wasn’t as though they could hide their rather distinctive scent, even if they could hope that the winds this high up might disperse it over a wider area.

Hector probably would not have been particularly happy to be treated like luggage strapped onto Kaya’s back, but he had no opportunity to complain, and necessity had driven their choice far more than dignity. If they had any dignity left after that catastrophe, they wouldn’t have been running for their lives, hoping to get to a settlement and a healer.

With flight on their side, they cleared some distance from the pursuing shikari, but it didn’t fill Sylvas with any confidence. Eventually, they were going to have to touch down, and then whatever time they’d gained would be rapidly lost. He would have found it hard to believe just how fast the creatures were moving through the dense forest if he hadn’t already seen them in action.

After what felt like an hour, the forest fell away to cleared land. Stumps of trees dotted a landscape that looked blighted by civilized intervention, and then that gave way to plain dirt, and finally to the beginning of agriculture, or at least to irrigation ditches that had not yet been filled even though they had been dug. Sylvas called out to his friends, “We’re nearly there.”

Kaya bellowed back, louder than was really necessary to overcome the wind whipping by, “So are they!”

Already regretting it, Sylvas looked back. The shikari had broken free of the tree line and were gaining ground fast now that there were no obstacles. There had been dozens of them back on the Consortium base, and in pursuit of them now there were at least double that number. To cast against them, Sylvas would have to end his current spell and allow his friends to drop to the ground. To stand and fight them, they’d have to land and face them on even terms.

Sylvas sighed. “If we make it to the colony, they aren’t going to be happy with the friends we’re bringing along.”

“Then we must stop their pursuit,” Malachai said it as if it was the simplest thing in the world.