Uncertainty bordering on hostility kept step with Vantra as she followed Kie and the crates, and she tried to bury the ugly emotion.
Nearly all those she grew up with hated the Flayn, and none more so than the elfines and nymphs. So many of those longer-lived faelareign suffered through the invasion, and they remembered the fear, the destruction, the deaths, the hardships, all because an off-world empire thought them easy prey. Magic proved superior to interstellar technology, and peoples around the globe gloated at Erse Parr’s success in sucking the life out of the invading fleet.
No one cared what happened to the souls after their defeat, except for Erse. She chose to help them research a way to maintain ghostly energy on an interstellar ship so they could travel back to their home planet, rather than force them into the Final Death as other death deities attempted.
While never in her forethoughts, Vantra aligned with the mindless faelareign animosity until she met the Gabridarço shipwrights in Merdia. They were kind, knowledgeable, and had not seemed terrifying or murderous or vengeful. Perhaps the long-ago commands to attack did not reflect underling sentiments. The spirits may not have wanted to invade Sensour, and had no choice.
And died for the lack of it.
She drew her thoughts away from her contemplations, disliking their direction. These two beings had only helped her, and they did not deserve to experience her hatred for an empire that abandoned them once they realized they could not defeat their target. Good thing she had other questions to occupy her. She turned to the whizan, who walked at her side.
“Are you Lokjac?”
He blinked, taken aback, and raised an eyebrow. “Yes. How did you guess?”
“You’re a Sun priest and Yut-ta’s looking for you.”
The two Gabridarço laughed as Lokjac shook his head. “He knows I have other commitments,” he said with wry acceptance. “But, I suppose, that’s not his nature.”
“He’s very worried.”
“Of course. He fears losing those he holds dearest. But, as you can see, I’m not lost, just in the middle of a move.” He rubbed the top of his nose with his finger. “The corruption rose in Selaserat—straight through the temple garden, in fact—and Kie and Nuçya just happened to be visiting at that moment. We evaded the roots, but I knew I needed to return here and rescue my charges as quickly as I could. They offered to help.”
“Yut-ta isn’t the only one who’s worried. The Snake asked me to find you when I reached Selaserat.”
Lokjac frowned. “For the Snake to show such concern is an extraordinary thing.”
“Xafane and the Light-blessed became suspicious when Avarelle claimed you just wandered into the forest.”
“I have, from time to time,” he said with dry annoyance.
“Well, she disappeared too, and Rudarig took her place.”
“What?” His flat, shocked tone meant he had no idea what was going on in Selaserat and the Raining Sun Temple. “Rudarig? He’s unfit to hold a candle at the temple, let alone the high priesthood!”
“That added to the worry. Yut-ta investigated, and mercenaries working for Hrivasine attacked and stabbed him. I kept him safe until help arrived, but there’s something more going on than just corrupted roots slithering through Selaserat’s underground.”
“Yut-ta’s OK?” He flipped from aghast indignation to anxious parent worry.
“Yes. He healed and came with us. We were going to Embeckourteine, but—but—”
“This is ill news,” Nuçya said, their voice hard in anger. “Hrivasine knows more than he claims. He hides much behind his charming smile.”
“He probably does. There’s more, and it’s horrible. In Selaserat, someone attacked the whizens and stole their Labyrinth maps, and the fake Strans sent Wiiv followers to attack some farmers outside the city limits, then someone blew a Lake Deccavent dam and—and—”
“Calmly,” Lokjac told her, laying a hand on her back, though fury lit his eyes. “Please, start from the beginning and tell us what you know.”
She must have sounded distraught, because Fyrij winged back to her, into her hood, and rubbed his head against her chin. Why was she breaking this news now, to them? The words tumbled out of her mouth, and she could not stop them. She tried to shush, but found herself sobbing instead, long before her rushed tale ended. What was wrong with her?
Lokjac kept his hand on her back, and his expression darkened into hate as she explained about the Snake’s Den, their discoveries in Selaserat, the flood, Qira, Navosh, the fire, Kjaelle and the vine creature . . .
And while they all noted she cried tears like a living being, they did not ask after it.
“I knew something had changed in the Labyrinth after the Dryanthium flood,” Lokjac said, his lips firming in unhappiness. “But I never guessed Strans had lost his mantle. I thought . . . well, never mind what I thought. I was wrong.”
“Hrivasine knew.” Kie’s seething punched through her sorrow.
He did? How—
The ground shook, and Lokjac looked over his shoulder. Nuçya reached into a pocket and withdrew a weapon similar to the one Kie had, then faced behind them as the contrivance picked up speed.
“They freed the roots,” the whizan said, his tone scathing and furious. He tugged on Nuçya’s shirt before rushing after the crates. “And one who swims with Sun’s Touch aided the escape.”
“Her name’s Gisdrelle,” Vantra sniffled, running to keep up with his longer strides. “I heard them call her that.”
“Gisdrelle.” Lokjac narrowed his eyes. “She’s not a member of the Raining Sun, and I don’t recall an acolyte by that name associated with any of the Sun temples in the Elfiniti or Dryanthium that I’ve visited.”
“She’s with the Knights of the Finders.”
“They hunt one they think is lesser, so no knights among them,” Kie said. He sprinted in front of the crates and into a cavern with a Dark-shrouded ceiling. Sitting in the center was an airship; he trotted up a ramp, shoved his fingers into an indent in a shiny, black metal door and slid it open, revealing dozens more crates stacked inside.
Vantra’s eyes widened as she took in the ship while the three other ghosts loaded the rest of the crates into the back. It sat on three squat landing legs, gleaming in the light of hand-sized Sun baubles. The body reminded her of a butterfly’s, with a flatter bottom, a small, bulbous head, and a longer, cargo-filled, tapering abdomen. The front had a jutting cylinder attached to a squashed half-circle that curved back to the abdomen, purple lights blinking along the edges.
The craft held no resemblance to the triangular invasion ships with a ring around the back that littered history books. She wondered why.
The shiny metallic surface reflected her pinched face back at her, and she turned away, embarrassed she looked deader and more frantic than normal. Not a good introduction to a guardian and his guards. She needed to calm down, remember to ask after Hrivasine, and delve into what the three knew about the corruption. She needed to act like a Finder acolyte, not a frightened, overwhelmed woman.
Lokjac snagged her arm as Kie slammed the cargo door shut and Nuçya slid the ramp into the abdomen. They climbed steps into the bulbous part, and the elfine motioned to a chair that looked like a half-barrel with lush black padding. It had straps that went around the waist and the shoulders, so she buckled herself in, grabbed Fyrij, cradled both him and the shard against her chest, and waited.
Kie sat at the console that spanned the entire front window while Nuçya pulled up the stairs, closed the door, and tapped at a panel to its side.
“Ba danc si,” Lokjac muttered. She knew that phrase; older temple elfines loved using it to express angry frustration because it sounded ancient, but she found mud swimmer a strange insult. Sun shields swam over the craft, intercepting a giant ball of boiling fire. “Looks like we weren’t fast enough.”
“The corruption rides with them,” Kie said, snapping straps into place as the console blazed in multi-colored lights.
Vantra strained to see through the windows, but most of the cave remained obscured by the curve of the half-circle. Lokjac secured himself, then raised his hands; a blinding glow swirled between his palms.
“And Sun rides with us.”
