and Tilar at his side. He believed it was his right as an heir of the line of Wierden. Yet Galen had thought Elizar's hopes would have died when he'd become a murderer. How could he think they would ever accept him now, after all he had done? And how could he have the arrogance to treat the mages as if they were his to command, his to "reclaim"?
Elric glanced at him, but Galen could read no reaction on his stern face.
The fiery runes faded, leaving them in the light of Elric's single globe.
"The Circle should meet at once," Elric said.
"We must remove Kell to the facility," Blaylock said. "This ship must be destroyed."
Elric nodded and conjured a platform beneath Kell that lifted him from the chair, then straightened so that he lay flat. With a wave of his hand Elric created the illusion of a sheet shrouding Kell's body, and in Galen's mind the image rose unbidden: Elric walking from the fire of the explosion, the bodies of Galen's parents floating behind him, supine, shrouded in sheets.
Energy churned inside Galen, searching for outlet. "I will destroy the ship," he said.
Elric hesitated, studying him. Galen tried to make his face impassive. He didn't think he fooled Elric, but Elric didn't seem to have the energy to argue. Instead Elric nodded and moved with Kell toward the air lock.
"Use your ship to destroy this one," Blaylock said. "Remove yourself to a distance. Take no unnecessary risk."
"Yes," Galen said.
Soon the others were gone, and he was left with darkness and the smell of blood and decay. He visualized his mind as a blank screen on which to impose equations. First he conjured several light globes, illuminating the area. Next he accessed his sensors, studied the walls of the ship, confirming what he thought. Then he went to the panel in the wall behind the chair. He slid it open, as the Grimlis had taught him. Sometimes maintenance or repair was necessary.
There, within the recess, like a thick silvery worm, clung a section of Elizar's chrysalis. Ripples on its skin revealed the tension of its muscles as it held to the interface pane. Processors ringed it, the nexus for them all. Silver filaments spread from its plump body in a web, intertwining themselves with the ship's systems, with the ship itself. Galen touched the warm translucent surface. A subtle light glowed from within.
It carried Elizar's DNA, and during Elizar's training as an apprentice, it had grown into an echo of him, mirroring his brain structure, his patterns of thought. It had become a part of him, an extension of him.
Galen had last seen Elizar a month ago, through a probe, in the Thenothk system on the rim of known space, thousands of light-years away. If Elizar was still there, or at any distance from the ship, he would have only the most tenuous connection to it.
Yet even a tenuous connection could carry sensation. The sensation of a single hair being pulled from the scalp, the sensation of a needle-thin sliver slipping under the skin. The sensation of the devil walking over his grave.
Galen's heart pounded, the pounding echoed back to him by the tech. He had agreed to leave Elizar behind, to run with the mages to their hiding place.
But here was one piece he did not have to leave behind.
Galen removed his hand from the soft silver surface, took a step back, then another. The hatred welled up in him, no longer willing to be buried or contained. Energy bloomed through him. Fire raced along the lines of the tech. Heat spilled out from his skin. He visualized the equation.
A fireball appeared in the air before him, coruscating with light. He formed an equation of motion, hurled the fireball at the chrysalis. Fire splashed across the silver form and the interface pane. The chrysalis made a slight, squirming movement.
He formed a second fireball in the air. Shot it at the chrysalis. A third ball. Slammed it into the fiery recess.
The wormlike form was black, engulfed in flame. It moved no more.
Smoke billowed out of the wall,
Elric glanced at him, but Galen could read no reaction on his stern face.
The fiery runes faded, leaving them in the light of Elric's single globe.
"The Circle should meet at once," Elric said.
"We must remove Kell to the facility," Blaylock said. "This ship must be destroyed."
Elric nodded and conjured a platform beneath Kell that lifted him from the chair, then straightened so that he lay flat. With a wave of his hand Elric created the illusion of a sheet shrouding Kell's body, and in Galen's mind the image rose unbidden: Elric walking from the fire of the explosion, the bodies of Galen's parents floating behind him, supine, shrouded in sheets.
Energy churned inside Galen, searching for outlet. "I will destroy the ship," he said.
Elric hesitated, studying him. Galen tried to make his face impassive. He didn't think he fooled Elric, but Elric didn't seem to have the energy to argue. Instead Elric nodded and moved with Kell toward the air lock.
"Use your ship to destroy this one," Blaylock said. "Remove yourself to a distance. Take no unnecessary risk."
"Yes," Galen said.
Soon the others were gone, and he was left with darkness and the smell of blood and decay. He visualized his mind as a blank screen on which to impose equations. First he conjured several light globes, illuminating the area. Next he accessed his sensors, studied the walls of the ship, confirming what he thought. Then he went to the panel in the wall behind the chair. He slid it open, as the Grimlis had taught him. Sometimes maintenance or repair was necessary.
There, within the recess, like a thick silvery worm, clung a section of Elizar's chrysalis. Ripples on its skin revealed the tension of its muscles as it held to the interface pane. Processors ringed it, the nexus for them all. Silver filaments spread from its plump body in a web, intertwining themselves with the ship's systems, with the ship itself. Galen touched the warm translucent surface. A subtle light glowed from within.
It carried Elizar's DNA, and during Elizar's training as an apprentice, it had grown into an echo of him, mirroring his brain structure, his patterns of thought. It had become a part of him, an extension of him.
Galen had last seen Elizar a month ago, through a probe, in the Thenothk system on the rim of known space, thousands of light-years away. If Elizar was still there, or at any distance from the ship, he would have only the most tenuous connection to it.
Yet even a tenuous connection could carry sensation. The sensation of a single hair being pulled from the scalp, the sensation of a needle-thin sliver slipping under the skin. The sensation of the devil walking over his grave.
Galen's heart pounded, the pounding echoed back to him by the tech. He had agreed to leave Elizar behind, to run with the mages to their hiding place.
But here was one piece he did not have to leave behind.
Galen removed his hand from the soft silver surface, took a step back, then another. The hatred welled up in him, no longer willing to be buried or contained. Energy bloomed through him. Fire raced along the lines of the tech. Heat spilled out from his skin. He visualized the equation.
A fireball appeared in the air before him, coruscating with light. He formed an equation of motion, hurled the fireball at the chrysalis. Fire splashed across the silver form and the interface pane. The chrysalis made a slight, squirming movement.
He formed a second fireball in the air. Shot it at the chrysalis. A third ball. Slammed it into the fiery recess.
The wormlike form was black, engulfed in flame. It moved no more.
Smoke billowed out of the wall,
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