IGS #4, Chapter 43

Leonis

Jova led the way, her plinth spearing out low and fast above the Unfathom’s interminable silver sands. Leonis sat at the rear of her platform, gazing behind at the subtle plume of dust their passage disturbed even at the height of some ten or fifteen yards. In the near distance, powering along to keep up, ran Druanna’s eidolon, its six blades flashing as it ran while carrying Kuragin, Nyrix, Kelona, and Druanna herself.

The mood was terrible. Nobody spoke, and not just because of the biting wind and its low droning moan. With Scorio gone, it felt as if the heart had been ripped out of their party. Jova was fierce and focused but impersonal, while Druanna was a stranger, kindly and generous but aloof amongst people she didn’t know.

Nyrix and Kuragin had something going on, but neither seemed to yet know what it was, nor whether to even acknowledge it in public. Xandera had retreated into herself, and sat beside Leonis with her arms wrapped tightly around her shins. Kelona was hollow-eyed, as if Scorio’s kidnapping and possible—if not probable death—had torn some deep certainty about Acherzua right out of her soul.

Leonis knew how that felt.

Scorio had seemed… unstoppable. Not just because of his own fierce nature and indomitable might, but because he was Whispered. He’d accomplished so many death-defying deeds that he’d become burnished with an aura of invincibility. And as long as he’d been there, in their midst, smiling and laughing and driving them on, anything had felt possible.

Now he was gone.

And the Silver Unfathom seemed all the more vast and inimical for it.

Jova stood at the fore of her plinth, arms crossed, leaning into the wind, hair rippling and whipping in the wind behind her, a permanent frown etched into her face. Leonis twisted about to study her, but refrained. She’d grown bitter and caustic since agreeing to find the Silverine Sun, as if to balance out the foolishness of their quixotic quest.

But still. She’d agreed to go.

A small miracle in and of itself, given the woman he’d come to know back in LastRock.

It didn’t pay to consider what lay before them. That they had to try and rescue Scorio there was no doubt, but the practicalities of that endeavor… Leonis rubbed one thumb into the palm of the other hand, and frowned at where the eidolon ran behind them.

A Silverine Sun. Would that they had taken Lady Krula up on her offer, because then they might have Artur with them, a guide, someone who could help them navigate the perils of the Silverines themselves.

Were they all going to be snapped up and fed to the Abstractions? What could their small group do against such vast numbers? Was this madness?

It was madness.

But what choice was there?

If they arrived on time, and found Scorio being held prisoner by scores of Philosophers who were preparing to feed him to an Abstraction, they would—what? Attack? Even Jova and Druanna had been overwhelmed by the numbers that had assailed them at the camp site.

Leonis took a deep breath and then exhaled slowly. They’d figure it out when they got there.

The plinth slowed and slid out wide as Jova leaned into a curve. “Silverines!”

Leonis startled, twisted about again, and saw three dots approaching at speed from the side. They were Philosophers, not Instinctuals, clothed and humanoid.

“What do we do?” asked Kelona. “Kill them?”

Jova was slowing down to fall back into Druanna’s range. “Probably.”

The eidolon slowed its pace in turn as Druanna saw them draw closer, and Jova lowered the plinth so that it hovered alongside the massive construct. Leonis rose carefully to his feet; they were still moving at what would have been a fast run for him. Xandera and Kelona did the same, and together they faced the trio that approached from just above, and who also slowed to consider them as they drew close.

“If they try to flee, slay them,” commanded Druanna from athwart the eidolon’s shoulders. “We can’t let word of our approach precede us.”

Jova only nodded.

The plinth stopped altogether, the eidolon taking a few more steps forward before also coming to a stop. The ground about them groaned and cracked as Jova prepared herself.

The trio descended slowly, their interest avid. Their leader, who wore voluminous, layered skirts of the purest white, and nothing else, came to a stop some twenty yards above, its companions higher still. Golden branches extended from her back, the leaves large and approximating ragged wings if you squinted. Twin horns like those of a giant deer or goat emerged from its temples, and its eyes were large and red and utterly alien.

“Fair meetings!” called the Silverine. “A wonder to encounter a sortie of Great Souled strangers upon the Plains of Neverwrack. We cannot between us prevent ourselves from sharing the notion that you are without a guide! A loathsome lack. May we proffer our services? You venture dangerousomely close to a Sun; continuations in this direction may lead to your ruin.”

Jova took the lead. “Greetings, Philosophers.” Her voice was as cold and bleak as the wind. “It’s no mistake that we move toward the Sun. It’s our objective.”

The Silverine cocked its head, huge horns scything through the air. “Most puzzlesome! You are not aware of the Sun being verboten to your kind?”

“We are. Regardless, we have business there. Perhaps you could act as an intermediary.” It wasn’t even a question. Leonis could hear the indifference behind her words—if they refused, they would die.

“Business with a Sun?” The notion seemed to delight the Philosopher, who trilled in amusement, the sound picked up by his twin companions. “Most irregular! What business might you have with something so far beyond your ken?”

“Your kind stole a friend of ours.” Jova’s tone clashed with the merriment from above. “We aim to rescue him by any means possible.”

“We did?” The leader looked up. “Did we?”

“I didn’t,” said the second.

“Nor I, though it seems we’ve been missing out on fulsome fun.”

“We didn’t,” replied the leader, tone growing in certainty. “And are just exeunt from the Sun’s holy environs. Who is this friend of yours? A Great Soul?”

“A Great Soul,” confirmed Jova. “His name is Scorio. He was stolen by Braxofitz.”

“Braxofitz!” The leader again seemed delighted and surprised both. “We but spoke with him! He arrived at the Sun alonesome. Most, most alonesome.”

“That can’t be,” said Jova, but Leonis felt his heart sink. Had the Silverine…?

“It most certainly can be, for it is.” The leader drifted down a little closer. “Your friendsome was released into the authority of another. All is as it should be, though… hmm.” The leader’s red eyes gleamed. “Were you by chance assailed by an endless cavalcade of Silverines, not too long ago? It is said and shared that a small group did delve into the ground itself, and in so doing escaped a most consuming fate.”

“The authority of another?” Jova ignored the question. “Which other?”

“A Great Souled other,” said the second Philosopher, and then darted back as the leader whipped around to glare. “But tis true!”

“It is true, though not something we should speak of.” The leader turned back. “Still, it is delightful to find you here and not underground. We would be delighted to lead you to the Sun!”

“Sure,” muttered Nyrix from the eidolon’s shoulder. “To be feasted on.”

“Perhaps!” The leader spread his arms. “Perhaps not? There is but one way to find out.”

“Another Great Soul,” murmured Leonis, then pitched his voice to carry. “Would this person be called Dameon? A Dread Blaze?”

“Oh, no, Dameon is already with us, and soon shall be part of us. He made promises Acherzua did not keep. Though!” An idea seemed to strike the leader. “If you come, all of you, and docilely entrust yourself into our motherly care, we can explore the possibilities of releasing Dameon. For then would his bargain have been concluded. If you love him, that is.”

“We love him not,” rasped Jova. “Dameon.” She said his word as if it were a curse, and the ground all around them shifted and groaned and cracked.

The trio of Silverines eyed the shifting sands nervously and rose higher.

“So he’s not the one that claimed Scorio?” called out Druanna.

“Nay! He engendered the bargain, yes, but by the authority of another. The very same who claimed Scorio! It was all very fun.”

“Who?” Jova’s fists were clenched. “Who took him?”

The leader eyed the shifting ground around them again. Large chunks of rock had begun to emerge from the ground, some as large as the plinth upon which Jova stood.

“Ah. You seem distraught. We shall retire, and perhaps seek the pleasure of conversing with you at a later date?”

“Who?!” Jova’s cry tore at the air, and twin boulders flew forth with such terrible speed that neither of the leader’s companions had time to react before they were punched right out of the sky. The rocks flew past the main Silverine on either side, causing their white skirts to stream back, and the sound of stone breaking bone and the high, panicked trills being cut off were abrupt, shocking, and viscerally satisfying.

Leonis and everyone else watched both Philosophers fall to the ground some hundred yards beyond. They hit the white, pebbled sand, and lay still, their blood leaking out into the sand.

The leader turned back after considering his fallen fellows.

“You are most convincing! Braxofitz did entrust them to the honorable Herdsmen, they who uplifted us from the eons of Primordial Writhing and ushered us into the Consumption of Light! Allies, caretakers, distant friends; we honor the accords. Why shoulds’t we not do as we are bid?”

Leonis couldn’t breathe. Kelona reached out and squeezed his arm, her fingers digging into his muscle, and Xandera clapped her hand over her mouth.

“The Herdsmen?” Jova’s voice grew quiet. “You gave Scorio to the Herdsmen?”

“Not I, to be clear. Braxofitz. It’s all done deals. Long gone, goodbye, so long. I presume you no longer which to sojourn to the Sun?”

“No.” Jova turned to look back at the rest of them. Her expression was sobered, her gaze flat. “No, I guess not. Now… I don’t know what we do now.”

Leonis called forth once more. “This Herdsman. Can you take us to them?”

“Herdswoman, is it not? You Great Souls are most particular about the presence or lack of the dangly bits between your legs. I, Pinnacle, am very aware and sensitive about your values.” The Philosopher bowed low. “So you see, there can indeed be etiquette and consideration between our kind.”

“Herdswoman,” said Kelona softly. “Myla?”

Leonis’ gut clenched. “Impossible. She swore a Heart Oath.”

“I know not her name!” The leader beamed as he straightened. “Nor where she left to, or went, or is going. The Unfathom is broad, and I? I know but a slender swathe. Where else may you choose to journey? Surely a guide would be beneficial?”

Jova rubbed at her face. “The Herdsmen have him. Fuck.”

Nobody spoke. Even worse than having a suicide mission was having no mission at all.

Druanna: “Do you know where the Herdsmen live? Even if you cannot tell us?”

“Alas! I am but a meagersome fellow. Also, it occurs to me, were I to admit of such valuable knowledge, you would be prone to breaking my body until I agreed to offer it to you. No?” The Silverine’s small mouth quirked into a smile. “We are both superficially genteel, but prone to violence when it meets our ends.”

“What do we do?” asked Kelona quietly.

Jova pinched the bridge of her nose. “Do you know the location of the Tombs of Sadness?”

The Philosopher drew back. “That of course I do, but—”

A mass of smaller rocks flew up from the ground, tearing themselves free in explosions of sand. The Philosopher cried out, flew back, but was pummeled by the hundreds of fist sized rocks, all of whom battered his torso and limbs.

A moment later he fell to lie upon the ground moaning and twitching.

“Well,” said Jova, tone bright and unconvincing as she beamed at the rest of them. “Looks like we have a guide to the Tombs.”

Leonis wanted to protest, but to what end? They’d lost the trail. Scorio had no doubt been taken to the Cube. The very one they’d admitted before they couldn’t find.

“Oh, Scorio,” whispered Xandera, and slipped her hand into Leonis’ own.

Druanna had been staring off to the side, brow furrowed, but then sighed and gave a sharp nod. “I suppose Jova is correct. Unless we find new information on Scorio’s whereabouts, we might as well proceed to our original destination.”

“Myla,” said Kelona softly. “If she was the Herdswoman…”

Kuragin raised both palms as if in surrender. “I already swore a damn Heart Oath. I’ll swear another about not knowing she was a Herdswoman if that’s what it takes for you to believe me.”

Everyone was staring at him now.

“Myla did swear,” mused Druanna.

“But it’s too great a coincidence.” Kelona stepped up to the edge of the plinth. “She’s the only one who goes missing—who ran away from us into the Silverines—and Scorio got handed over to a Herdswoman?”

“We’ve no proof it was her,” said Druanna calmly. “It’s suspicious, but any Herdsman had a fifty-fifty chance of being female. Odds are Myla was torn apart.”

“I’ll swear it,” said Kuragin, tone bluff. He glanced around defiantly. “I knew nothing of her being other than what she said. We’ve fought together, lived together, I trusted her. She’s…” His face screwed up in disbelief. “Myla? A Herdswoman? I—I just can’t see it.”

Leonis thought of Myla, how small and young she seemed, how good natured and easily flustered. She was the last person he’d guess would betray them, but…

“Swear the Oath, then,” Leonis called. “Let’s clear the air.”

“I swear our most ancient oath.” Kuragin began without hesitation, and Leonis sensed his Heart Ignite. “To my knowledge, Myla is exactly what she’s always claimed to be: a Great Soul from Bastion, from the Academy, a Dread Blaze and a good person. I’ve no knowledge of her being part of any secret organization, nor have I ever suspected as much.”

His words of power faded. Jova exchanged a glance with Druanna, who nodded in approval.

“I don’t buy it,” said Kelona. Her tone was sharp, loud, brittle. “If Myla is a Herdswoman, she found a way to break Heart Oaths. What’s to say Kuragin isn’t doing the same?”

“Oh come on,” replied Nyrix. “Enough is enough, Kelona. He swore. What, are we going to start suspecting Heart Oaths as well, now? Those are unbreakable. Kuragin’s no traitor.”

“Just because he’s your new boyfriend doesn’t make him reliable,” snapped Kelona.

Nyrix’s expression grew hard, but before he could retort, Jova cut in.

“Enough! Scorio is gone, and we don’t know where. It’s too dangerous to go around in circles in the Unfathom. Kuragin has sworn two Heart Oaths now. I’ve never heard of them being breakable, and for all we know Myla died in the assault. Now. Either we vote to continue to the Tomb together, or we turn back around and return to the Red Keep to split up. Which will it be?”

“The Tomb,” said Leonis reluctantly. “Maybe we’ll learn something there that’ll let us help Scorio.”

“The Tomb,” agreed Xandera, little hand still in his own.

“I’m for the Tomb,” said Jova firmly.

“Yes, fine.” Druanna sat back, arms crossed, legs still draped down over the eidolon’s shoulders. “We might as well try to get something out of this expedition.”

“Go back,” said Kuragin. “I won’t travel with those who don’t trust me.”

“Agreed,” said Nyrix. “The Tombs were already dangerous enough. Without Scorio… what are we even doing?”

“The Tomb,” said Kelona, glaring at Nyrix.

Leonis crossed his arm. “In the end, only Druanna and Jova’s votes matter. The rest of us can’t hoof it back to the Red Keep without them. That being said, Kuragin’s right. We can’t continue if there’s no trust. We either decide we believe in Heart Oaths, or we fall apart.”

Kelona sniffed and looked away.

“I’ve never heard of their not being reliable,” said Druanna firmly. “Until given reason to, I will continue to trust in them. Kuragin has my trust.”

“And mine,” said Jova. “If little more than that.”

Leonis put his hand on Kelona’s shoulder and lowered his voice. “We’re all hurting, Kel. None of this is good, none is like it should have been. But here we are. I understand the urge to lash out more than most. But what Scorio want us to fall apart and fight each other?”

Kelona was tense under his touch, but finally her shoulder sagged. “No.”

“No,” he agreed. “We’re in the Silver Unfathom. At our limit. We’ve precious little rations, precious little water left. We’re surrounded by Silverines. We have to stand together until given cause.”

Kelona lowered her head, grimaced, then sighed. “Fine.” She looked up. “Kuragin, I’m sorry. I’m just… I’m sorry.”

“I appreciate the apology.” The other man’s words were stony. “And seeing as Leonis is right, I guess we’re heading to the Tomb. Unless Jova wants to give Nyrix and me a ride back to the Keep real quick?”

Jova shook her head. “We press on.”

“We press on, then.” Kuragin shrugged. “Very well.”

Leonis caught the glance Nyrix and Kuragin exchanged, and couldn’t help but feel a pulse of happiness for them both. Whatever had been holding them back, this exchange had helped.

At least something good had come from it all.

“Let’s bring the Silverine on board, then.” Jova gestured to the moaning fiend. “And hurry. We’re too close to the Sun. The sooner we’re gone from this area, the better.”

Leonis stepped down off the plinth and began making his way to the wounded Philosopher. He couldn’t agree more.

Even as he grabbed the fiend by the nape of the neck and began hauling it back to the platform, however, he found his thoughts turning to his missing friend.

Scorio hadn’t been consumed by Silverines. It was bleak news that their enemy had him, but that meant—he hoped—that he was still alive.

Their only hope was finding information in the Tomb. Something that might point them to the Lost Cube.

It was a slender hope, almost ridiculous, but it was all Leonis had.

So he’d hold onto it for now, and keep the faith.