Zal

“Shite!” I lunged forward, fist closing on air as a grasped for a staff that was no longer there, reaching for Sun magic that was no longer mine, because Torian was… Torian was…

“Fuck, that hurts,” they said matter-of-factly, although their face was twisted in obvious pain, blood soaking the back of their shirt.

“Then for the Sun’s sake,” I said desperately, gripping their wrist gently, ready to pull the knife away, “stop.”

They glanced at me out of determined gray eyes. “Don’t, Zal, please. I must do this.”

“What? Sever your own spine?” I cast around the strange metal ship for something to stem the blood flow and spotted a scatter of unfamiliar items on the slick floor beyond Torian. “I don’t blame you for being upset.” I scrambled over, staying low to keep from knocking myself out on the low ceiling. “I’ll wager you’ve never killed anyone before. But that’s no reason to—”

“I’m not trying to kill myself, Zal, if that’s what you’re thinking.” They angled the knife, teeth gritted.

“You could have fooled me,” I muttered. I grabbed a tumble of white fabric. It was finer and softer than any linen I’d ever seen, but I didn’t care if it was silk or cloth of gold. I needed to stanch Torian’s bleeding. I held it out, loath to jostle Torian in case I caused the knife to slip. “Let me—”

“In a moment.” They grimaced, digging into their own flesh as though it was of no more moment than gutting a fish. “Ah. There it is.” They withdrew the knife, glancing at the bloodied blade ruefully. “Sorry about the mess.”

“Bugger that.” I grabbed the knife and tossed it aside with a clatter. “You need to— Shite!”

Because rather than taking the fabric and pressing it to the wound, Torian reached up and dug finger and thumb into the gash, widening it, and from the expression on their face, causing even more pain.

“I have to… make sure… fuck!… that the others… don’t come—got it!—looking for me.” They pulled a bloodied something out of their neck and threw it toward where Edric’s body slumped in the odd chair. It ricocheted off the wall with a ting and spun across the floor, leaving a trail of blood—Torian’s blood—in its wake. “All right, now I’ll take that T-shirt.”

I was still gaping at the thing Torian had pulled out of their body. It had sounded like metal, not bone, and certainly not flesh. “The what?”

“The T-shirt.” They waved a shaking hand at the fabric I held. “That.”

“Oh. Aye.” I gestured to Torian’s neck. “May I? That wound is in an unchancy place for treating yourself.”

They chuckled weakly. “I suppose you’re right.” They bent their head, pushing their ragged hair aside, and I pressed the… the T-shirt to their neck. “I’m sorry if I frightened you, but we don’t have much time.”

“Time for what?” I murmured, checking the wound under the soft fabric. It had already stopped bleeding, something I wasn’t sure I could have managed with my Stone intact and a pouch full of healing stones.

Torian laid their bloodied fingers over my hand on their neck. “Zal. Edric isn’t alone, remember? The other Infomancers are still up in the mother ship, waiting for him to return. With me.”

I sank down on my arse next to Torian. “I see.”

“The only way to keep your world safe is if they believe returning is both impossible and irrelevant.” They pointed to the bloody object. “That’s my primary tracking device.”

“So they won’t be able to find you without it?”

Torian smiled, although their lips were pinched with pain, and I cursed my broken Stone that I couldn’t help them. “They could still track me by my cybertronic signature, but only if they look.” Their jaw firmed with steely determination. “So I plan to give them no reason to look.” They glanced at a series of glowing red numbers on the wall. “Shit. Only eleven minutes. That’s not much—” They scrambled to their feet, still clutching the T-shirt to their nape, and pointed to a leather satchel. “Take that, please, collect your knife, and wait for me outside.”

“No chance of that. I’ll gather the kit, yes, but I’m waiting here with you.” I shouldered the pack and grabbed my knife. With a grimace, I wiped the blade on Edric’s trousers before sheathing it. “We’ll leave together.”

They gave me an exasperated glare. “Still think I’m trying to off myself?”

I shook my head. “Nay. But I’ve learned my lesson. I’ll not leave you to fend for yourself. Never again.”

“Oh,” they breathed, blinking rapidly. For an instant, I thought they might kiss my cheek once more—which I wouldn’t have objected to in the least—but instead they tied the T-shirt around their throat, strode to the oddly illuminated metal table in front of Edric’s corpse, and touched a glowing glass panel.

“Detonation countdown commenced. Ready for dust-off,” they said in Edric’s voice. “Be advised. Destruction radius is estimated to be wider than first calculations. Be ready to proceed at full speed to heliopause with immediate transition to slipdrive.”

“Understood,” said a tinny voice, apparently from midair. “Standing by for shuttle docking on your arrival.”

Torian’s fingers flew over the table, touching a panel here, a button there, with occasional glances at the numbers on the wall. At last, they blew out a shaky breath. “There. Course laid in and comms cut.” They shot me a crooked smile. “Now for the tricky part.”

As they turned, I spied a line of blood trickling from under the T-shirt, so I moved next to them and laid my hand over their nape, pressing gently. “I’ve got you,” I murmured.

They met my eye for an instant, their gaze soft. “Thank you.” Then they turned, held down three buttons at once, and cleared their throat. “Al-Mohindes, Edric,” they said in Edric’s voice again. “Authorization delta gamma five seven one bravo charlie nineteen auto-destruct sequence alpha. Engage on my mark.” They glanced at me, swallowed, and said, “Mark.”

“Now what?” I asked.

Torian touched the central glass panel in two spots. “Now we haul ass.”

They grabbed my elbow, but I needed no urging to lunge for the door at their side. We had to leap to the ground because the short ramp had already disappeared. Torian kept running through the trees, back toward our camp, and I kept pace as a rumble and whine grew behind us.

We burst into the clearing by our fire, both of us breathing heavily. Torian shaded their eyes, peering into the sky. I looked up too, but couldn’t see anything.

“Did it work?” I asked. “Should that… that ship be in the air?”

Torian nodded. “It worked, and it is.” They pointed to a faint distortion above the trees, dwindling even as we watched. “The shuttle’s hull is coated in an alloy that bends light.” They smiled crookedly. “Hard to conduct clandestine experiments on primitive populations if you flaunt your tech every time you do a flyover.” They gazed down at their bloodied hands and grimaced. “I think a wash is in order.”

Since my own hands weren’t much better, and since I still needed to dress Torian’s wound, I couldn’t disagree. I was a little off-balance as I followed Torian when they snatched up a pot. True, I hadn’t ordinarily used my staff as a walking stick, but it—and my Stone—had been a part of me for so many years, I felt almost as though I were missing a leg.

At the river, Torian filled the pot. With an almost mischievous grin, they swirled one finger in the water. “No more cold washes for us. I’ve learned a thing or two from you, Magister.”

I chuckled weakly, dipping my hands in the pot beside Torian’s, the water almost too warm against my chilled flesh. “I’m not entitled to that honorific, not any more. Learning a new trade at my time of life won’t be easy, but I can’t very well be a Sun mage without a Stone.”

Torian’s fine eyebrows bunched, and they paused, hands shedding crystalline drops in the morning light. “But you’ve got the ability. The training. The… the magic.”

“Aye. But I can’t harness it without the Stone.”

“Can’t your College of Mages give you another one?”

I shrugged. “Your Edric had the right of it about that, even if he was full of shite otherwise. We’ve no Stones to spare.” I pointed to my eyepatch. “Especially for mages who are already damaged.”

Torian’s scowl deepened. “That’s nonsense. You—”

A boom like distant thunder sounded overhead, and we both looked up. A glow—yellow, orange, and red—bloomed in the sky, rivaling the sun in radiance.

“It worked,” Torian murmured. “I hope the Infomancers buy it.”

“Buy what?”

“That”—they pointed to the sky—“was the shuttle self-destructing. If the Infomancers scan the wreckage, they’ll find evidence of Edric’s DNA as well as mine, along with my tracker. I’m hoping they’ll believe that both Edric and I were aboard and not come looking for us.” Their expression turned almost savage. “I also hope they’re fleeing as fast as their engines can cycle to ensure that their ship doesn’t meet the same fate when the planet explodes.” They must have seen my alarm, because they patted my arm with their damp but blood-free hands. “Don’t worry. No more explosions. I promised to keep the near-death experiences to a minimum, remember?”

I frowned at them, pointing to the makeshift bandage around their throat. “Aye, but you’ve already gone back on that promise.”

They waved one hand. “I was in no danger.”

“Be that as it may, I’m taking no chances with you.” I dumped the murky water and scooped out a fresh potful. “Come.”

Torian didn’t object, trailing me back to our camp and discarded bedrolls. They sat on the log next to the dying fire while I collected the healing supplies from my own pack.

When I turned back, Torian was shaking droplets off their fingers, probably from warming the fresh water.

I laid a gentle hand on their shoulder. “May I remove the… the T-shirt?” They nodded and bent their head, allowing me to untie the knot and expose their neck. The T-shirt was a bloody mess, but the wound itself was less dire than I’d expected. “I’ve got a few healing stones yet. With those I should—”

“Don’t bother.” Torian didn’t look up from beneath the curtain of their hair. “You’ve juiced my power grid so much that I’ll be able to seal it myself before long. Just neaten it up and we’ll call it good.”

“Allow me a little professional pride. I can’t take you before the tribunal with an untreated wound.”

“Must we go?” they asked, their voice soft, hesitant. “To the capital? You don’t owe the College of Mages allegiance anymore, do you?”

With a tuft of lambs-wool from my pack, I sponged the wound with warm water, blinking when the gash seemed to stitch together as I watched. “Aye, that’s true enough. However, I owe them the story. Otherwise, if I don’t report in, they’ll be thinking I’ve gone rogue.”

“Will they… will they think I’m a rogue mage? After all, I murdered someone. I used technology, not magic, but…” They glanced up at me and then away. “Like I said before, that may not be a distinction they’re able to make.”

I tied a strip of linen around Torian’s throat to protect the wound while it healed, although I surmised that no covering would be necessary by evening. I settled their cloak over their shoulders. “That’s another reason for us to go. I’ll offer my testimony. Tell them of your remorse—”

“But that’s just it.” They shifted on the log so they could face me. “I don’t have any. Remorse, that is. I know I should. Taking someone else’s life is wrong.”

“When you think about it, he and his lot took your life long ago. This is turn-about, eh?”

“Revenge? That’s not why I did it.” Torian shivered, and the breeze tossed up a strand of dark hair that snagged in their eyebrow. They pushed it aside irritably. “I did it for you.”

My heart warmed as though my Stone weren’t in a million useless pieces. “For me?”

“For you and everyone on the planet. When I weighed his life against your whole world, the choice was easy. But choices have consequences.” They bit their lip, shoulders rounding as they shrunk in on themself. “Do you think the tribunal will… will execute me? As they punished Loriah?”

The warmth in my chest turned to a burn, both anger and resolve. “Loriah planned to slaughter an entire Earth-born village. She was condemned because she was a threat. You aren’t.”

“Am I not?” Their smile was crooked. “New knowledge can seem as perilous as an ionic cannon to people with an established power base dependent on the status quo.”

“I have no notion what an ionic cannon is, but I won’t allow the tribunal to hurt you.”

“But if you’re not a mage anymore, will they listen?”

“They must.” I refused to consider anything else. “I’ll need to brief whoever takes over my circuit, and if they accept my words there, they’ll accept them elsewhere too. And with all you have to tell them about the Star-born, about our history, about our future, they’ll fall over themselves to listen to you too.”

“Promise?”

I captured Torian’s hands and held them against my chest. “I promise. If they don’t make a place for us in the capital, we’ll find another. You and me.”

Torian offered me a trembling smile. “Does that mean you like having me around?”

I remembered my incomprehensible divination spread—sun and moon together on the partnership path; stars no longer in play; earth suspended between peace and prosperity. It was a true casting, after all.

I understood the meaning now—and thanked the Sun for the disaster that took me to Corvel-on-Byrne. This was my destiny—working with Torian for the good of the world, the Infomancers be damned.

“I’m bloody sure I can’t do without you now.”

“Nor I you. You need someone to guard your left side. And I need…” Torian shrugged and pulled their oversized cloak closer around their shoulders.

“What do you need, love?”

Torian ducked their head, as if they’d suddenly come over shy. “I need someone who thinks I’m important. Necessary. Beautiful without the body modification protocols, regardless of the aspect I’m wearing.”

“Aye, well, you’re always beautiful to me. Have been since I first saw you, filthy and half-starved in that odious gaol. But don’t imagine you can’t choose to leave my sorry arse behind if you want. The Sun knows I’m no prize. Got only one eye. An uncertain temper. No useful trade. Won’t swive. A bad bargain all around.”

Torian leaned over and kissed my cheek again. “There are other reasons to be with someone. Companionship. Support. Caring. After you report, we could travel together. I’d like to see your home.”

I pictured Torian on the beach below my cottage, their soft dark hair blowing in the breeze as the sun rose across the sea. Aye, I’d give a lot for that sight. “The life of a circuit mage was a rough one, my dear, and the life of a former circuit mage won’t be much easier. Are you ready for that?”

They met my gaze squarely. “I am. I could ask for nothing better.”

“Well then.” I stood and offered Torian my hand to help them to their feet. “We’d best get started then. Without my Stone, though, our journey will be a sight less comfortable, and I won’t let you march all the way to the capital in ill-fitting boots and threadbare clothing. I’ve some healing and prosperity stones put by that we can use to barter, but we’d best go out of our way a bit for provisions.”

“Why?”

I chuckled. “I want to avoid anyone on my old circuit. Not all my judgments have been popular, and with no magic at our backs, some of those folk might try a spot of payback.”

“Ah. I understand.”

They joined me in striking our camp, insisting that we gather the pieces of my broken Stone. Their vision was far sharper than mine, clearly, because they could spot the tiniest chips amid the grass and brush. By the time Torian was through, and I’d bundled the lot in a square of heavy leather, I’d wager we left nothing more than a few specks of dust behind. Then, despite my protests, they used the satchel they’d scavenged from Edric’s ship to redistribute our kits more evenly.

As we shouldered our packs and headed for the trail beside the river, Torian chuckled.

“All right, I’ll bite,” I said. “What’s so amusing?”

“This reminds me of something from the archives. A film.”

“Film? What’s that?”

Torian looked blank. “It’s a… if you think of a—”

“Never mind. I’ll take it as given. A film, then.”

“At the end of a very famous one, after one character has killed a very bad person, his companion, against all expectation, protects him. In return, he says, ‘I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.’”

I tweaked a lock of Torian’s hair. “You know, my own moon, I couldn’t have said it better myself.”