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Chapter 17

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The party walked through a field of knee-high grass, the tops bent with heavy nodules. Eabani and Dastin were on the flanks, Maru and Neff were a few steps ahead of Sarai and Jayce. Jayce plucked up a stalk and bent the silver-blue length in two spots. It bruised black and little seeds fell off.

“Do you know what that is?” Sarai asked.

“No idea, but it does seem kinda neat,” he said.

“So, you don’t know if it’s poisonous or toxic,” she said flatly.

“I figured it wouldn’t be. Water won’t stop thirst. Food won’t feed us. Why would there be anything that’ll give us allergies or be poisonous?” Jayce asked.

“Thank the Great Egg.” Eabani rubbed his still slightly swollen nose.

“The Veil—here, things will become different as we travel farther—is close to the reality we know,” Maru said. “Flora and fauna from the other side of the gate are reflected on this side of the Aperture, but with elements of the deep Veil.”

“If it’s a reflection, what if this plant thing and the eggs on the top—”

“You’re holding bragga wheat, it’s a staple across the galaxy,” Sarai said.

“—are the original and the wheat stuff she’s talking about is changed by our side? Our reality. How do you know which is the real one?” Jayce asked.

Maru looked over his shoulder at him.

“Go on . . .” the Adept said.

“If this place gets weirder with every step we take . . . but it doesn’t when we’re back home . . . then . . .” Jayce turned the stalk around in front of him, then tossed it aside.

“Philosophies across centuries and empires have pondered these questions,” Maru said. “No one has a definitive answer. The best stance I’ve learned is to accept the reality you’re in, and not layer on reasoning that does not apply to where you are.”

“We’re here for your Veil stones,” Dastin said. “Not big thinking problems.”

“There’s still value in asking the questions.” Maru raised a finger. “Even if we do not learn the complete solution to the Veil and its relationship to our reality, searching for the solution led to knowledge of how to survive here. How to harvest Veil stones.”

“Is there an end to it?” Jayce asked. “The horizon here is . . . not right.”

“There’s a theory,” Maru said. “But it is neither here nor there while we—”

Eabani raised a fist.

“Contact left.” He swung his pack into the field and went prone behind it.

“I don’t see—Ah!” Dastin pulled Jayce to the ground. His pack rose up his back and smushed his face into the ground. The dirt smelled like citrus and dust stung his eyes.

“Take cover behind your gear.” Dastin put the buttstock of his crossbow to one shoulder and kept the weapon amongst the wheat stalks.

“I see them.” Maru had a monocle to one eye. “Half dozen Vishar. They’re armed.”

The monocle landed next to Jayce, and he looked through it. In the distance were a group of tripedal aliens. Their insectoid exoskeletons were covered in a thin brown skin, their bulbous heads had several antennae that bent and twitched toward the party.

“I’ve never seen those before,” Jayce said. One of the Vishar held a longbow made of chitin.

“Vishar have an enclave in the galactic southeast,” Sarai said. “They hate humans for reasons no one knows but them. No trade with the Governance. Not even with the Syndicate.”

“I’ve encountered them a few times,” Maru said. “Best to keep your distance from them. They will fight for Veil stones.”

“And they will eat us,” Neff said. “Bug bug men have big appetites, weak backs. Don’t carry much on them.”

“They have a weapon like you, Dastin,” Jayce said. “Bigger arrows, though.”

“What’s it doing with it?” the Marine asked.

“Holding it up in the air toward us,” Jayce said. “Pulling an arm back and—”

“Down, you idiot!” Dastin reached out and shoved Jayce’s face into the dirt. A second later an arrow as long as Jayce’s arm thumped into Eabani’s pack.

“Message for us, sir,” Dastin said.

“They want us to keep our distance,” Maru said. “Which we shall do.”

Clouds rolled across the field and fog enveloped the distant Vishar.

“Forest there there.” Neff pointed ahead and to the right. “Better protection.”

“Is there a mirror storm coming?” Maru asked.

Neff took a deep sniff of the air.

“One’s out there, but it hasn’t decided to come for us yet,” the Docent said.

“Up. Follow me,” Maru said.

Jayce grumbled and cussed as he got up and brushed seeds and dust off him. He swung the pack on and nearly lost his balance. He stumbled toward the Vishar arrow and reached for it. A flash of blue light redirected his hand, knocking it high.

One foot stepped on the arrow shaft and flattened it to the ground. There was a hiss and pop as some caustic substance leaked out of the arrow.

“Nothing poisonous on this side of the Veil.” Blue light faded from Maru’s hand as he pulled Jayce away from the weapon. “But the Vishar are rather fond of it and coated their arrows in something we don’t have an antidote for.”

“Not real friendly, are they?” Jayce asked. His ears perked up on their own, listening for the sound of another arrow incoming.

“Assholes, the whole lot of them,” Eabani said. “Good thing you stomped it down. Give those bugs a harder time finding it.”

“Yeah, that’s what I meant to do.” Jayce nodded quickly. “Swear.”

“Storm closing fast fast.” Neff slapped Maru on the back of the head, then slunk back against his shoulder. “Faster. Faster!”

“Step it out.” Dastin jogged ahead, his pack seeming like another part of his body as he sped up. Jayce broke into a run and his pack jumped against his shoulders and lower back. His knees ached by the time the party reached the edge of the forest.

Only Sarai was more out of breath than him when they stopped just beyond the wood line. Wind howled through the upper branches and the sky darkened with thick clouds.

“So much . . .” Jayce tried to swallow down his dry throat. “So much walking.”

“Throw up shelter, sir?” Dastin asked.

“Not so close to the edge. We need some breathing space if another group comes in here for refuge.” Maru drew his hilt and stalked into the woods. Jayce marveled at the trees; some were as tall as the biggest barges back home. Spear-tip-shaped leaves and branches brushed against Jayce’s shoulder. Clusters of nuts surrounded by jackets of short spikes and white flowers hung from high branches.

Jayce kicked a pile of brown, oblong seeds, by accident.

“Ah . . . now this is a treat.” Maru knelt behind a tree and signaled the others to take cover.

Jayce felt sweat up and down his back. Leaning against the rough, brown-and-silver bark of a tree trunk didn’t do much to reduce the load on his back.

“Ooo, is that a barnacled tower turtle?” Sarai drew a small notepad and pencil from a shoulder pocket.

Jayce calmed his breathing and heard something big moving through the woods. There was the burble of running water and the occasional snap of tree branches.

He inched around the trunk and saw what Sarai was so enamored with.

The turtle had a circular shell with a diameter as wide as Jayce was tall. The flesh of its legs was sky blue and each was thick as a skiff mast. Its back was flat, with slithering appendages that reached up and stripped seeds off the branches. The seeds were strewn ahead of the turtle’s face, where it cracked the food in thick jaws. Bits of shell fell from its mouth as it ground the inner nut to paste.

“Where’s that alien from?” Jayce asked.

“It’s native to the Veil,” Maru said. “Docile, unless provoked or bothered while feeding. The barnacles are a different creature from the turtle. Seems they’ve developed a symbiotic relationship with each other.”

A pile of steaming waste fell from the back of the turtle. A stalk reached over the tail and ejected what looked like pollen onto the droppings.

“Yum,” Jayce said. “Does this mean there are intelligent species native to the Veil?”

“Yes, but no. Mostly no,” Maru said as the wind picked up. Freezing cold rain spattered against the trees and dropped onto the party.

“Worse worse coming,” Neff said. His tail shot out and quivered like a plucked string.

“Set up the shelter,” Maru said.

“Aye, sir.” Dastin dropped his pack and pulled out a plank from between his pack and the frame and shook it out into a semirigid tarp. He and Eabani gathered up more sections and joined them together to form a low tent frame. The party moved their gear underneath and the Marines unrolled flaps down the sides and tied them to plastic legs. The flaps went clear, but they still blocked the gusts of wind abusing the forest.

“Hydrate. Eat,” Dastin said to the pair of Attuned. “Sleep cycle, sir?”

Rain thumped against the tent roof.

“Not too long.” Neff opened Sarai’s pack and rummaged inside. “Tuna and noodles where where? Always yum.”

“Adept Maru?” Jayce kicked his legs out in front of him and dug his heels into the dirt as he leaned against his pack. “What would have happened if I’d touched that arrow?”

“Nothing good, which is why I risked using my Veil stone to save you.” Maru moved between Jayce and Sarai and squatted between them. He opened his harness with a tug on the leather cover and plucked his stone out. It glowed more sharply than the last time Jayce saw it on the other side of the Aperture gates.

“Look at yours,” Maru said.

Jayce’s harness stone was dull and cool to the touch.

“I used mine and now it’s a beacon to every creature behind the Veil. Attuned can sense it, but it should work to keep others away more than inviting trouble,” Maru said. “My hilt carries less of an aura to it right now. When you two claim a proper stone, it will shine. We will be in even greater danger as neither of you have the training to mute the power. I’ve found it best to break anchor once you have a stone.”

“Wait, are our hilts working now?” Jayce fumbled with his belt.

“They are.” Maru touched his arm. “But it will attract attention if you use it.”

“What will come for us?” Jayce asked.

“Other Pilgrims, possibly. Veil predators, more likely. The Veil tries to defend itself when stones are disturbed,” Maru said. “Now . . . there’s more we need to discuss. Something is different this time. Something potentially dangerous.”

Neff sat on top of Sarai’s pack. The Docent had an open pouch of food in hand. His tongue darted into the pouch and snapped tan glops into his mouth.

“Tell truth whole truth,” Neff said. “You knew. You brought them.”

“I suspected.” One of Maru’s fish eyes turned to Neff, the other stayed on Sarai. “Now I’m surer.”

“Sure of what?” Sarai asked.

“I want you both to clear your minds and listen to me.” Maru pressed his palms and fingers together. “What do you feel above us?”

“The tent.”

“Jayce . . .” Maru tapped his fingertips together. “Above the false sky.”

Jayce looked up, then to Sarai. She sat in the lotus position and had her hands on her knees, eyes closed. Jayce mimicked her and tried to calm his thoughts. He felt a pull against him, and his eyes popped open.

“It’s OK, you can see it without worry,” Maru said.

Sarai was breathing deeply, though her chest moved in starts and fits.

Jayce closed his eyes and relaxed again. He felt a pull up and the sensation of the ground against his body lessened but didn’t leave completely. His mind floated up through the forest and to the sky. White birds flapped in the upper clouds, unperturbed by the buffeting winds and rain. He came to the great barrier of ivory glass and blue ice . . . then drifted through.

The sky plate was so thin Jayce barely had time to register that he’d passed through when he found himself standing on top of the icy sheet. Darkness was all above him, but the sky plate lit up below him. Sarai was nowhere to be found.

There were no stars in the sky, not at first. Pinpricks of light appeared slowly, then flooded into shoals of swirling galactic arms that twisted around each other and coalesced into a figure: a man made of stars.

The celestial being wore plate armor, his face hidden by a helm. His arm drew back and a spear materialized in his hand. The star man flung the spear away and it speared across the sky, a contrail of nebulae and burning stars left in its wake.

It struck something and a blinding flash of a supernova spread. A wall of unimaginable force struck the false sky, shattering it. Jayce was too terrified to run as the wave of destruction swept over him.

There was no pain. He regained his bearings and saw the galaxy, the home galaxy he recognized from star maps, drop away from him, like he was hundreds of thousands of light-years above the galactic plain.

Fragments of the broken sky collided with the galaxy. Stars were snuffed out by the millions, then a pinprick of darkness at the center grew . . . and grew. A singularity devoured the galaxy, sucking in stars and releasing only fatal radiation.

Everything collapsed onto the black hole . . . then there was nothing left.

Snap.

Jayce sucked in air and opened his eyes. Maru had his fingertips together to snap again at his ear, but Jayce was wholly returned to the shelter.

Sarai was there, her eyes wide and her knuckles pressed to her mouth.

“What did I just see?” Jayce asked.

“Some call him Michael the Sainted. Or Georgias the Sainted. Or Tulkaran. My people call him Ghur’kulk, the Final Champion. He is the guardian of the Celestial Cycle. The distance between our reality and the Veil is variable. The closer the two, the stronger the Veil’s influence. Ships can travel faster. Manipulating stone energy is easier. Other times we are farther apart and things become more difficult. There was a century-long period where off-ley-line travel was extremely difficult. It gave rise to several of the Deep kingdoms and nations that are still not part of the Governance. After thousands of years of gathering data, we of the Sodality detected the Cycle.”

Maru opened his hands and a light grid appeared between the three. A horizontal dark red line and a blue line moved closer and farther from each other as a bright dot moved from one side of the graph to the other. Every time the two lines came perilously close, they would separate widely.

“Our reality and the Veil come perilously close to a Breaking every thousand standard years or so,” Maru said and his demeanor hardened. “The Sodality believes that the Cataclysm that destroyed the Ancients’ civilization came about after a Breaking was manipulated to merge the dimensions.”

“How is that possible?” Sarai asked.

“You don’t know?” Jayce gave her a quizzical glance.

“Only senior members of the Sodality know this. We only share it with other Adepts once they’ve proven themselves after many years of service . . . and only if they need to know,” Maru said.

“Did my father know this?” Sarai asked.

“He did indeed. He was one of the first voices to rise against the Tyrant after the Sodality helped him take power.”

“Wait . . . ‘helped’?” Sarai leaned forward slightly.

“The Tyrant began as a particularly talented and charismatic military commander during the Black Chanid Invasion. The Governance at the time of that crisis was particularly corrupt and inefficient. We were losing that war on all fronts and the Governance was making things worse. A decision was made by the Sodality and others to install General Mutarin as Tyrant until the Chanid were defeated. We believed the Tyrant’s promise to relinquish power.”

“Which he didn’t,” Jayce said.

“We had the choice between hundreds of billions consumed by the Chanid or trusting the Tyrant. In hindsight, we should have taken our chances to defeat the Chanid. The Tyrant was more than we thought he was—he was well aware of the Cycle, and once he had the Governance under his control, he began work to disrupt the Cycle and bring about another Collapse. Once the Sodality learned of this, the rebellion began. We were fooled and betrayed, and the Sodality paid the price.”

“Why are you telling us this now?” Sarai asked.

“Because we are perilously close to a Breaking. The Pinnacle appears only when such an event is nigh. It is from the Pinnacle that a Veil stone powerful enough to prevent another Cataclysm can be claimed. Some of us within the Sodality believe that there is a higher intelligence within the Veil that works to prevent such disasters, as the Veil is as affected as our own reality.”

“The god here is the Sainted guy?” Jayce asked. “That’s who I saw fighting above the sky?”

“That is the strongest theory,” Maru said. “The intelligence is too divergent from us to communicate directly. How would you teach a fish to avoid an ecological disaster on your home world?”

“I . . . have no idea,” Jayce said.

“What does this have to do with me?” Sarai asked.

“There is a Veil stone atop the Pinnacle. I need one of you to claim it before the Tyrant’s agents. While the Tyrant is dead, his lieutenants likely still believe in his quest to end the Cycle. The consequences could be cataclysmic.”

“Wait, why is there even a stone like that?” Jayce asked.

“It is a gift from the Sainted One,” Maru said. “The Iron Soul did not bring us here by happenstance—too many coincidences happened along the way. Neff should’ve been sold off to repay his debts, but the creditor that was coming to collect had her ship knocked off course before it could reach Illara.”

“Wait wait . . . Ollian knew where I was?” Neff’s ears perked up.

“Yes, she mentioned she was coming for you and asked for passage when I encountered her on Nivan Station. I didn’t respond to her request, but I appreciate that she pointed the way to you. The Shrine on Hemenway confirmed Illara was the place for us to cross into the Veil.”

“Thank you,” Neff said. “Ollian has no patience. No options for more credit and would eat eat me given the chance. I am poisonous!”

“She’s eaten at least three Docents and is still alive,” Maru deadpanned.

“New one!” Neff jumped onto Jayce’s shoulder and snuggled against him like a living shawl. “Protect protect, yes? Like you promised.”

“This Ollian lady’s not here, is she?” Jayce asked as Neff’s claws tested for solid footing against his clothes.

“Highly unlikely,” Maru said. “The most important thing we must do is to reach the Pinnacle. Claim the stones before the Tyrant’s agents can—or anyone else—and bring this news back to the Sodality. Other Adepts are likely here, but none will have entered so deeply into the Veil as we have.”

“Den mother Charro would have come with you had she known.” Neff hopped back onto Maru’s shoulder.

“She suspected, but she feared to trust her instincts,” Maru said.

“Who else knows?” Jayce asked. “Wouldn’t other Attuned have seen the Pinnacle?”

“Indeed,” Maru sat back. “Indeed. The Tyrant’s agent we encountered is likely here . . . but did she have an Attuned with her? It was too chaotic on the dock for me to have sensed any with her.”

“You can crack your anchor now if you’re scared,” Sarai said.

“I’m not scared,” Jayce snapped back. “Just in over my head. A bit.”

“We will continue to the Pinnacle,” Maru said. “Perhaps it is unreachable like almost every time we cross over. It is possible I am wrong. I often am.”

“Storms getting worse, sir,” Dastin said.

Through the semiopaque tent sides, leaf-shaped hail cut through the trees and shattered against the ground and tree trunks. The crack of glass sounded through the forest over and over again. Tiny indentations appeared and disappeared against the tent roof.

“Doesn’t look too bad,” Eabani grumbled. “But the mirror flecks will slice you up in minutes without shielding.”

“Why doesn’t it tear up all the trees?” Jayce asked.

“We’re not of the Veil,” Maru said. “The mirror flecks are imbued with Veil energy, just as everything else here. There is a planet close to the galactic core where hydrofluoric-acid rains from the sky. The Crathul native to the planet can stroll through the acid storms without issue. The rest of us? Not advised.”

“Chow.” Dastin tossed a tube at Jayce’s chest. He caught it and turned it over in his hands and squinted at the writing.

“What is ‘potato’?” Jayce asked.

“Ground tuber, human favorite.” Maru peeled the top off a tin. “They don’t sit well with my species.”

“Ugh, do you have to eat that in here?” Sarai scrunched her nose at Maru. “Not everyone likes the smell of—”

“Canned ass.” Dastin put the back of his hand over his nose.

“It is fermented shrimp in a falhtun brine.” Maru stuck a pinky into the can and plucked out something still wriggling. “A delicacy.” He crunched the shrimp between his jaws and there was a brief squeal.

“Trade you for beetle casserole.” Eabani shook a box.

“I hope ‘potato’ is better.” Jayce squeezed some of the paste into his mouth. His jaw worked from side to side. “It’s . . . good.”

“What’d you grow up up, kid?” Dastin asked.

“Fish, crab, kelps. So many kinds of kelps.” Jayce looked in the same pocket on his pack that Dastin pulled food from and looked through more tubes. “Pound cake with popping seeds? Chilly macs and . . . cheese?”

“You don’t want those,” Dastin shook his head. “No good for your stomach if you’ve never had that before. Here, I’ll trade you for the vegetable omelet and chicken fit for a king.”

“Sweet, thank you.” Jayce handed over the tubes and stuffed them all into his pack.

Sarai shook her head.

“Maru, what if we get to this Pinnacle place and find these super stones you’re talking about?” Jayce asked. “What then?”

Maru closed his tin.

“We will deal with that when we need to,” Maru said. “Hopefully anyone else heading there will be slowed by this weather. If the wrong people get there first . . . things become more difficult.”

Outside the tent, the storm raged on.


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