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Authors: T. C. Metivier

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BOOK: Chains of Mist
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Talan did not reply. Roger shot a glance at the old man, to see him staring very intently at the planet that now filled their viewport. They passed through the planet’s atmosphere without difficulty. Talan’s features were set, his skin slightly pale.
No danger—yeah right. You look like a man getting dragged towards the executioner’s chair, and
you’re
the one of us who’s supposed to know what the hell he’s doing. So forgive me if I don’t relax just yet.
“Where exactly are we going?” he asked to break the tense silence. “It’s kind of a big planet down there.”

“Nembane Mountain,” replied Talan. “Or, as the natives of this world call it, Kil’la’ril
.
” He extended one frail arm, pointing at something ahead of them. “There it is—the focal point of this world, reaching high into the clouds…and extending all the way down to its heart.”

Roger followed Talan’s finger and immediately found himself wondering how he had ever thought they could be going anywhere besides where the old man was pointing. Nembane Mountain was huge, impossibly huge and appearing even larger because it did not exist within a range of other massive peaks but stood alone. Even from this distance, it seemed close enough to reach out and touch, and Roger felt simultaneously awed and very uneasy. If that was the source of Espir’s power, then Roger had no trouble imagining it as hostile, no matter what Talan said.
It might as well be a giant focusing rod, gathering all of its energy together in one place…and we’re going to just walk right up to it. That’s a red flag, Roger, a serious red flag. Time to turn around now—cut your losses and get out while you still can.

However, against his better judgment—or maybe in accordance with it, he wasn’t sure—Roger kept the ship on course for the massive peak erupting from Espir’s surface. Talan pointed him towards a small clearing partway up the peak. As they drew nearer, the ship’s instruments all went momentarily dark, then flickered back on just as quickly. “Another side effect of the planet’s awakening,” said Talan, before Roger could even ask the question. “Do not worry; I have taken care of it, and we should be safe from further emanations.”

Again, Roger was less than relieved.
‘Should be safe’ is not good enough; if the power goes off again and he can’t turn it back on, we crash…and then we both die, prophecy or no prophecy, magic or no magic.
Again, however, he kept his silence.
I’m gonna trust that you know what you’re doing, old man. For now.

Still silent, he brought the ship into a smooth landing. He dropped the landing ramp, then turned towards Talan. “So, what now?”

Talan rose to his feet—still somewhat shakily, Roger noted. “There is a vast network of tunnels beneath Nembane Mountain. These tunnels lead to a chamber, within which is located the conduit to the planet’s power. The confrontation that I have foreseen will take place there.”

Talan fell silent. Roger waited for the old man to continue what seemed to be a deliberately truncated explanation, but then realized that no such thing was forthcoming.
Leaving me, once again, without the full story. This is getting annoying.
In other circumstances, he might have demanded that Talan explain himself, but something stopped him. He didn’t get the feeling that Talan was purposefully trying to keep him in the dark.
Maybe he keeps forgetting that I don’t have a damn clue what’s going on here, but if I were to bet on it I’d say that he’s still preoccupied with fighting off that pervasive corruption he was talking about before. I’d also bet that some of his attention is focused on keeping
me
safe from that corruption, and that’s the reason why I don’t feel as bad as he looks. And if he’s doing that, it’d be a good idea for me not to break his concentration.
Roger shot a glance at Talan and saw no trace of subterfuge in the old man’s face.
He’s been forthcoming with me so far, if in a sometimes meandering and roundabout way. Since I’ve come this far, it looks like I’ve decided to trust him, and that means I’ve got to trust that he won’t let me walk into this confrontation blind.

Still, he checked to make sure his par-gun was fully charged before following Talan out onto the surface of Espir.

“There are several entrances to the tunnel system,” said Talan, his voice stronger than it had been aboard the ship. Being on solid ground seemed to have revitalized him somewhat, and he moved with vigor and purpose. “The one nearby leads to the most direct path to our destination.”

“How convenient,” muttered Roger. Being outside was having the opposite effect on him. The ship had been a sanctuary of familiarity, a technological haven within which he could at least pretend he was somewhere else.
Docked in the deepest slums of Vellanite, maybe; you know, somewhere
safe
.
The untamed forest unnerved him; he could practically feel the eyes of a dozen different predatory beasts locked onto him.
And, to escape them, I’ll be plunging headlong into a dark hole leading to a conduit of immense power so strong that its mere proximity will eventually corrupt me. What a terrific idea!

Out of habit, Roger checked the par-gun’s charge again. He doubted that conventional weaponry would do him much good once they got wherever they were going, but it would at least let him pretend that he wasn’t
totally
outmatched.

Perhaps Talan sensed Roger’s trepidation, for his stride suddenly slowed. Turning back towards Roger, he said, “Do not be afraid, Roger Warbanks. We will—”

A whirlwind of chaos tore away the rest of his words. A dozen individuals of nearly as many species appeared as if from thin air, forming a ring around Roger and Talan. Garbed in identical red uniforms with black trim, they each gripped a sleek, deadly-looking assault rifle.

All of which were pointed at Roger.

Roger dove for cover, bringing up his own weapon as he fell, but he already knew that it was too late. Before he had a chance to defend himself, he felt a hundred tiny impacts strike him simultaneously.

He never even felt himself hit the ground as darkness closed over him.

* * * *

Talan watched Roger fall. Instinctively, power rose to his fingertips, but he let it die away unharnessed.
Some battles cannot be won with force alone. Yes, I could overpower them…but the effort would leave me weak. Too weak to survive what is to come.

Too weak to fight my
true
enemy.

So Talan forced himself to watch, motionless, as four of the crimson-uniformed warriors ran forward to gather up Roger’s unconscious body.
Roger Warbanks, I wish there were some other way. Someday, I hope you will know how truly sorry I am that I cannot help you this day. And someday, I hope that you will forgive me for what is still to come.

I hope that you will forgive me…even though I do not deserve forgiveness.

Another of the attackers, a massive male Valancian, stepped forward. “If you want your companion to live, you will come with us,” the snake-headed alien said, his words emerging in a baritone rasp through the environment mask that allowed the methane-breathing creature to survive in Espir’s oxygen-nitrogen atmosphere. “The Admirals would like to speak with you.”

Talan cast one last look at Roger, now being hauled away to places unknown.
They do not intend to kill him, or they would have done so already. Wherever they are taking him, he should be safe.
But, although Talan knew that his reasoning was correct, he could take no solace from it.
Roger trusted me with his life by coming here, and this is how I repay him?

Talan sighed.
Yes, this is how I repay him. Because I must. Because nothing is as simple as black and white.

“I will come with you,” he said, his voice not betraying his internal turmoil. “Take me to the Admirals.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

-6-

 

 

 

A splitting headache brought Roger back to consciousness. Groaning, he opened his eyes, then was immediately forced to close them against blindingly bright sunlight. Only then did Roger realize that he was outside and that the material pressing against his cheek was not pavement or gravel but rather soft dirt.
What the…? Where the hell am I?

Rolling over, he clambered awkwardly to his feet. His body ached terribly in a very familiar way.
That’s what the aftermath of a stun blast feels like. Was I in a fight?
He took a step forward, swayed dangerously, almost fell, and caught himself against a nearby tree trunk.
Where was I last? Pattagax? Yeah, but there was something after that, something…unusual. What was it again?

Absentmindedly, he reached up and scratched his head. Something rough and cold scraped against his skull.

As if a dam had been breached, the memories came flooding back. He remembered the chance encounter in the alley that had ended with a magic ring fused to his finger, then the confrontation at the ruins, then meeting Talan, who had brought them to…

Espir. Nembane Mountain.

Roger turned and saw the massive peak looming over him.
Alright, so we got to Espir. So how’d I get…?

And abruptly Roger remembered. They had landed partway up Nembane Mountain, left the ship…and walked right into an ambush that had materialized around them. They had never had a chance; Roger remembered that he had been gunned down before he’d been able to raise his weapon.
There were too many of them, and they were too well-prepared.

So, where does that leave me now?

Roger was no longer on the mountain; although it was hard to tell exactly how far away he was, he judged that it was at least ten kilometers.
So they took the trouble to lug me all the way out here after they knocked me out? Why the hell would they do that?
Roger could think of no logical explanation. A smart enemy would have either killed him or imprisoned him, not stunned him and ditched him somewhere in the forest. He checked his par-gun holster and found it empty.
Maybe they’re hoping I’ll die out here, either by starvation or wild animals, but that doesn’t make sense either. If they wanted me dead, there’s no need to cover their tracks so elaborately. Nobody else knows I’m here and nobody would care to look for me even if they did. Yeah, they took my gun, but I’m not getting the feeling that they left me out here to die.

Obviously, there was something else going on here, but for the life of him Roger couldn’t figure out what.

Experimentally, he called out Talan’s name several times, but—as he had expected—he got no response.
If he’s not out here, then where is he? Somewhere else in the wilderness?
It was possible—since their attackers had chosen not to kill or capture Roger, then it would make sense for them do the same to Talan. So that meant that the old man could be just about anywhere.
Well, that’s not very helpful.

Having reached a mental dead end, Roger changed directions. He had to get back to the mountain. If Talan was alive and out in the forest somewhere, that’s where he would go.
If he was dead
…if he’s dead, then I say a quick prayer, have a moment of silence, and then take my ship and get the hell away from here as fast as I can.
When it came down to it, this wasn’t Roger’s fight; maybe it should be, and maybe one day it would be, but right now his priorities were on getting his memories back. Everything else came second to that.

Satisfied with his decision, Roger oriented himself towards Nembane Mountain and set off through the forest.

* * * *

Roger hadn’t gone far when he felt a chill pass over him. Immediately alert, he froze, scanning the trees for movement. He saw nothing, but his feeling of danger did not pass.
Yeah, there’s something out there, all right. Something predatory and dangerous and way too practiced at hunting for me to see it. And I have no weapon except my fists.

Roger remained still for a few moments, considering his options while keeping both eyes on his surroundings.
Best thing for me to do is get out of the trees, force it to attack me on open ground.
Up until this point, he’d been trying to take the most direct path towards the mountain, regardless of whether it took him through forest or prairie, and he berated himself for his stupidity. He looked around, but the forest—and the network of thorn-covered vines that formed a thick web connecting tree to tree—stretched out around him in all directions. In his haste, he must have worked his way deep into the trees; there was no chance of him getting out before whatever was stalking him decided to stop stalking and start killing.

Roger let out a deep breath. In the corner of his eye, there was a flicker of movement.

Oh,
stek

Willing himself to stay calm, Roger glanced about for a weapon. Given time—even a few minutes—he could fashion a reasonably hefty club from one of the dozens of low-hanging trees branches, but he didn’t have that luxury. The only reason that the hidden hunter hadn’t attacked yet was because it could sense Roger’s alertness. The beast knew that Roger was on his guard, and that gave it momentary pause. But the second Roger diverted his attention the beast would strike. He scanned the ground, searching for something he might use as a weapon, but found nothing; only a few small twigs were in reach. His hand instinctively and hopefully brushed against his hip where his pistol ought to be, but of course there was still nothing there. He still wore his custom-made spacer’s jacket, but he doubted it would do him much good. The thin nano-fiber weave sewn into the jacket’s lining was fairly handy at turning aside pulse-knives and blunting par-gun blasts, but it had not been made to stand up to large, ferocious forest predators.

Damn it. Looks like I’m out of options. And almost out of time.
At the moment, he and the beast were at an impasse…but that would not last for long. Roger could practically sense the creature readying to attack. A tingle of heat ran down his spine, emanating from his hand…

My hand? Wait a minute—

Maybe I’ve got one more card to play after all. It’s a long shot…but what’ve I got to lose?

Roger cast his thoughts back to Pattagax, to the first times he had tapped into his ring’s power. He remembered how he had done it—by clearing his mind, by casting away his doubts and worries and fears, by slipping into a state of peace and serenity.

Relax…

Roger closed his eyes, forcing himself to stay calm despite his every survival sense screaming at him that closing one’s eyes while staring down a large carnivorous animal was always a very bad idea. There was nothing he could do about that; if it attacked him now, he would die—but he was dead anyway if he didn’t try something. This was his only chance to survive. It was the slenderest and meekest of chances, but it was a chance nonetheless.

And he intended to take it.

Relax…

A dull heat began to pulse from his finger, and Roger’s hand went numb. He remained calm, allowing the numbness to work his way up his arm, then slowly spread through his torso. As before, the numbness then began to turn into pain, and with it came the same fear he had felt the first time. Now, however, he was ready for it, and he forced back his terror.
This is a good thing,
he told himself.
This pain—this is what’s
supposed
to happen. This is what
has
to happen for this to work. Don’t fight it…accept it.

Roger allowed the pain to spread through his body, letting the surge of heat swell from a tiny flame into a roaring inferno. He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to relax. Every moment, he expected to feel fangs and claws rip into his back, but the beast did not attack.

Roger let the pain build until he could no longer stand it.
Alright, here goes,
he thought—

And opened his eyes.

Even though he had prepared himself for what was coming, what Roger saw still made him gasp aloud in shock. The forest was now a bonfire, a solid mass of roaring yellow flames. Roger lifted his arms and saw fires of all hues dancing along their lengths, the same as before. Now that fear was not consuming him, he had time to briefly wonder what the different colors meant, for he was sure they meant something. But before his mind could focus on that question, he suddenly felt a powerful
tug
, so strong that he staggered. Although he could see nothing through the canopy of trees, he knew that the direction of the tug had been the direction of Nembane Mountain. The pull was orders of magnitude greater than what he had felt on Pattagax, and now Roger felt an icy dagger of fear slip into his gut.
That thing on Pattagax—it was powerful. Extraordinarily powerful. But next to Nembane Mountain, it might as well be a speck of dust.

With a ferocious effort, Roger took a step away from the mountain.
It’s not my problem. The thing that’s hunting me—
that’s
what I need to be worrying about.
He focused, and suddenly he sensed a presence lurking behind him. He felt his mind somehow brush up against it, touching something bestial and ravenous. Whatever it was, it was huge and powerful—and about to attack.

Roger sensed it, tensing to strike…but he no longer felt any fear.
You think you can hide from me? You think you can catch me off guard?

Slowly, he turned. Within the searing walls of yellow fire, a mass of blue flames crouched.

I see you
, Roger thought.

The beast lunged—

And Roger leapt to meet it. Claws of blazing cyan slashed for him, but Roger was faster. Time slowed to a crawl within the strange world of the ring’s power. The creature seemed to hang in the air in front of him, helpless. Ducking under the attack, Roger seized the beast’s head and
wrenched
with impossible strength.

There was a sharp crack, and the creature abruptly went limp.

In the same moment, the power pulsing through Roger suddenly extinguished. The roaring inferno around him vanished, as did the inexorable force pulling him towards Nembane Mountain. In their place was a searing headache that forced Roger to his knees but then was gone as quickly as it came. Still kneeling, Roger gasped for breath.
Fires of Muntûrek! Now
that
was something!

He glanced at the ring with newfound appreciation.
I’m not sure how helpful that particular trick would be under other circumstances, but it sure is useful in a tight spot.
And he had a feeling he was only scratching the surface of what it could do.
He thought back to the days after he had first had the ring fused to his finger—which he had mostly spent cursing it and the strange alien who had bound it to him.
Guess I owe you an apology, pal. Looks like you knew what you were doing after all.

But the burst of power had come with a price. Roger was exhausted—his arms and legs shook, and his breath came in short gasps. He staggered to his feet, steadying himself against a tree.
Damn it. Well, I won’t say it wasn’t worth it, but if another one of those things comes along I’m dead. I’ve got to get out of these trees—and fast.

Roger rested for a few more minutes. Then, after breaking off a short, stout tree branch for a club, he set off as quickly as he could. Fortunately, the aftereffects of his exertion were temporary; he could already feel his strength returning. Eventually he came to the edge of the forest, bursting out onto an open field with a sigh of relief. He wasn’t foolish enough to think himself perfectly safe, but at least he’d be able to see anything that tried to attack him.
And that’s better than nothing. A whole
lot
better.

Roger continued on, moving much more quickly now that he was out of the trees. He soon came to a point where the tree line was running parallel to the mountain’s base. Roger looked left, then right, but the forest stretched as far as he could see. Trying to go around could take hours, even days. Dusk was at most a few hours away, and Roger had no intention of spending the night out here if he could help it. Hefting his club, he reluctantly headed back into the teeth of the forest.

* * * *

Ducking under a tree branch, Roger emerged into a small clearing in the heart of the forest. He judged that he was a little over a kilometer from the mountain.
I’m making pretty good time, and I haven’t seen any more wild animals—heard ‘em, yeah, but not seen ‘em, which hopefully means they’ve decided to leave me alone.
He lowered his impromptu club, taking a moment to revel in his glorious view of the mountain—

And suddenly felt something sharp prick against the back of his neck. A voice barked out a command in a language Roger didn’t understand, and Roger berated himself for lowering his guard.
Talan said there were natives here—and I bet they’re probably a lot more dangerous than that creature I fought earlier.
However, he didn’t panic. Standing perfectly still, he scanned the clearing and didn’t see anyone else.
So hopefully the guy behind me is alone. And I like my odds one-on-one against just about anyone.
He contemplated trying to harness his newfound magic but decided against it.
I don’t know how much help that’d be. I’m in a clearing, so I won’t need to worry about seeing my enemies. Plus, now that I’m so close to the mountain, the pull towards it would probably drag me right off my feet—and I definitely don’t want that.
Instead, he gripped his club tighter.
It’s just a matter of waiting for the right moment…

BOOK: Chains of Mist
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