MAGE-IMPERATOR JORA’H
The Solar Navy returned to Ildira, battered but victorious. The cohort had suffered devastating losses, and Kuivahr had been wiped out—but the Solar Navy had definitely inflicted serious harm on the Shana Rei. And the robots were all but exterminated.
Tal Gale’nh looked pale as always, but stronger and more confident than before. They had lost the planet but rescued Osira’h, Prince Reynald of Theroc, and the Roamer family that ran the kirae distillery there. The refugee green priest had already spoken with Nira at great length via telink.
The Mage-Imperator received Adar Zan’nh as soon as the remnants of the cohort settled into orbit. Jora’h and Nira listened to the commander describe the battle. “We had a stunning effect, Liege. We entirely destroyed the black robots—out of their entire fleet, only three escaped. In wiping out their fighters, we dealt a devastating blow to the creatures of darkness.”
Nira ran to embrace Osira’h, fighting back tears and glad to see her safe. “What about Tamo’l?”
“We don’t know for certain,” Osira’h said. “Many of the misbreeds were trying to escape through the Klikiss transportal wall. We don’t know where they chose to go, but we hope Tamo’l is with them.”
“Kuivahr didn’t have enough ships to move all those people,” said the Roamer woman, Zhett Kellum.
“We got as many away as we could,” said Patrick Fitzpatrick.
Muree’n spoke up. “Gale’nh, Osira’h, and I could also sense Rod’h through our bond, but none of us could help him.”
“The Shana Rei are using him,” Gale’nh said. “They drained me and discarded me, but Rod’h is much stronger. They may be able to use him to inflict more damage.”
Prime Designate Daro’h looked distraught, remembering Rod’h as a friend. “But we must save him.”
“The Shana Rei wanted to seize all the halfbreeds—Tamo’l, too. And me,” Osira’h said. “We are different from humans and Ildirans. We think that is also the reason they wanted to wipe out all the misbreeds from the sanctuary domes.”
Adar Zan’nh said, “The new sun bombs were remarkable, as General Keah promised. The Solar Navy can fight the Shana Rei with those weapons, but our greatest vulnerability may be elsewhere. What if they can strike us from within the thism?”
“We have no defenses against that kind of attack,” Jora’h said.
“Not yet,” said a loud voice. Designate Rusa’h pushed his way into the skysphere audience chamber. “But only because you will not make the necessary choice.” He was steely and determined.
Guard kithmen blocked the mad Designate with their crystal katanas, but Rusa’h pressed up against the unwavering crossed blades. “Brother, you saw what they did to the Onthos home system, what they did to the planet Kuivahr. The Shana Rei cannot be defeated with mere weapons. Sun bombs! Laser cannons! This battle goes far beyond us—the very cosmos is at stake! To fight an enemy of such impossible powers, we need allies that are far beyond us as well.”
Prime Designate Daro’h swallowed hard. “You mean the faeros?”
“They helped to destroy the nightshade,” Rusa’h pointed out. “But they are afraid to continue the fight. We must draw their attention. We must command them.”
“Rod’h and I tried that,” Osira’h said. “They would not listen to us.”
“You did not call them in the proper way,” Rusa’h said. “That is for Jora’h to do.” He seemed to leave off the title on purpose.
Offended by how the disgraced Designate spoke to the Mage-Imperator, the guards continued to block him, and Rusa’h left the skysphere in disgust.
Prince Reynald said in a quiet voice, “When I was just a baby the faeros attacked the worldforest, set the trees on fire. I barely escaped alive.”
Daro’h touched the scar on his face. “They burned many of us, caused incalculable damage. I would hate to bring them back. Are we that desperate yet?”
Jora’h’s voice was hard. “I will not be forced into that unholy bargain.” As the attendees settled in for a longer discussion, the Mage-Imperator called for a report from the human historian. “Rememberer Anton, have you or the other rememberers found any further hope among the ancient records?”
Anton Colicos bowed. “The Shana Rei seem to resent life itself, which, uh, doesn’t give us much common ground. In the previous war, though, the lldirans and faeros did manage to push them back. The Shana Rei withdrew outside of the universe, but now something has provoked them, brought them back.”
Jora’h could not guess what had disturbed the Shana Rei from their black isolation.
A bureaucrat kithman rushed into the audience chamber, terrified and confused. “Liege, Designate Rusa’h has gone to the top platform of the Prism Palace.”
Jora’h felt a whiplash of dread. “What is he doing there?”
“He barricaded himself inside the greenhouse terrarium. Guards tried to stop him, but he escaped. He says … he says he will call the faeros.”
Patrick Fitzpatrick frowned. “And how in the world does he intend to do that?”
Jora’h knew. “We must stop him. Hurry!” Led by the armor-clad guard kithmen, they all raced up to the high towers.
Nira sprinted alongside him and Prime Designate Daro’h. Muree’n and Yazra’h pushed their way to the front of the guards, weapons drawn.
When the group reached the highest level, they saw that Rusa’h had taken over Nira’s special greenhouse, her own private worldforest grove where she could stand among her trees and communicate through telink.
When Jora’h saw the drums of concentrated fuel gel placed around the interior of the greenhouse and up against the tall saplings, he realized that his mad brother had been planning this for some time. Rusa’h insisted on doing what he believed was necessary. He was either insane … or correct.
Jora’h commanded, “I forbid this! I am your Mage-Imperator, Rusa’h, and I am your brother. We have not yet reached this point of urgency.”
Nira cried, “We can’t let him. He’s got to stop—”
Rusa’h stood motionless in the center of the greenhouse. In his hands he held an ignitor. “Someone has to do what is necessary. The agony of the verdani along with my own will be a summons that the faeros cannot deny.”
“You will not talk him out of it, Father,” Osira’h said in a low voice.
Rusa’h’s lower lip curled. “I knew you were weak and a coward, brother. That is what sparked my rebellion against you in the first place. And now I see I was right all along. Someday, after I have saved the Empire, you will understand what I have done. You will thank me.” He closed his eyes and raised his hands, shouting toward the sky, “Faeros, we need you! You must help us. I call upon you to fight the Shana Rei on our behalf—and yours. Help us save the universe.”
The guard kithmen smashed through the transparent crystal walls, pushing into the greenhouse.
“We will pay any price necessary,” Rusa’h shouted.
Jora’h knew it was too late. “Guards, pull back!” He felt a thrumming in the thism, a rising surge as his brother cried out with all the power in his mind, drawing on the energy wrapped in the myriad strings that bound all Ildirans together. He triggered the ignitor.
In an instantaneous succession, the containers of fuel gel erupted, sending flames high, blasting out the crystal walls of the greenhouse. A central reservoir of fuel gel sprayed up and burst into flame, engulfing the trees adjacent to Rusa’h and becoming an instant furnace. The worldtrees shuddered, withered.
Even Jora’h thought he could hear them scream.
Nira dropped to her knees, weeping, pressing her hands against her smooth head.
The flames swallowed Rusa’h, setting his garments on fire, blackening his flesh, roaring around his head until his eyes boiled. And as he screamed in utter agony, flames poured out of his throat—yet he remained alive for seconds longer.
His outcry through the thism was so intense that it stunned the guard kithmen and rendered the bureaucrats unconscious. Prime Designate Daro’h staggered back, unable to keep his balance. Osira’h and Gale’nh reeled. Muree’n and Yazra’h both stood like statues. Even with the strength he drew from the entire network of thism, Jora’h felt deafened and crippled.
The shout of agony roared across the Spiral Arm like a siren, unhindered by physical limitations of speed.
The dying worldtrees also howled their pain through telink to the rest of the worldforest. Only when Rusa’h collapsed into blackened bones and the ashes of flesh, did the call fall silent.
* * *
Less than six hours later, after the fire on the Prism Palace roof had been extinguished, Jora’h felt the shuddering impact in his mind, a sense of growing dread that caught fire inside him. He and Nira rushed out of the Prism Palace and stood together in the Foray Plaza. Osira’h joined them, a stricken look on her face, and turned to look up at the sky.
Out in the city of Mijistra, other Ildirans were gathering, sensing the arrival of the powerful entities.
Fireballs streaked across the sky like shooting stars, growing larger and larger until the sky was filled with ellipsoidal knots of flame, sentient infernos that hovered above.
Osira’h stared, and Prince Reynald stood beside her, pale and weak.
Rusa’h had sacrificed himself to demand that the faeros return. These fiery elementals had already torched much of Ildira as well as other worlds in the Empire. Jora’h had no idea how he could defeat them again.
Or control them.