Way of No Return (Champions of the Crystal Book 8)

Chapter 19.2

Scotty crouched down as far as he could, trying to make himself small enough to fit under the small cave's sloping ceiling. He could see veins of ore in the rock, so he hoped it was enough to foul up the Kyan's sensors. At any rate, they would literally have to go through him to get to Mara, he thought wryly. And they were close—he could hear metal against rock, only a little less rhythmic than usual as the Kyan negotiated the rough terrain.

When the explosion shook the cave, he thought at first the Kyan were dropping bombs to smoke them out. But then he heard the sound of cheering in the distance, and the Kyan's footsteps hurried away. Scotty crawled toward the mouth of the cave just in time to see the flaming wreckage of the Kyan ship hit the ground, debris pelting the nearby trees.

Yes! he thought, and then wondered about the cheering. Surely the troops weren't so careless? Unless, of course, they were trying to attract the Kyan. Did that mean they had figured out how to kill them?

Whatever the intent, it bought him—and Mara—more time. Scotty glanced over his shoulder; he could hear her breathing, but in the darkness he couldn't tell if she'd gotten more pale. She could not keep up this level of effort forever, he knew. After a moment, he made his way back to her and pulled out his canteen, helping her the only way he knew.

"Our guys scored a hit, Mara. C'mon, you're missing all the fun out here," he said softly. "But don't worry. We got this until you're ready to join us."

After she stopped swallowing the water, he took a swig himself and sat back, hoping he was right.

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"Emergence has failed," Khediva announced, sounding uncharacteristically uncertain. "Shuran has aborted the attempt; he is nearing structural failure. The Praxatillian vessels closest to the High Wayships are reporting severe damage as well."

"And you?" Tirqwin asked. He had never experienced a failed emergence; they were extremely rare—and frequently fatal.

Khediva was silent for a moment. "I estimate my structural integrity at sixty percent," she said, "but several of my internal sensors are offline, so I cannot be certain."

"The Way is too strong for the High Wayships to break out?" Tirqwin said.

"Yes. Shuran believes they may have been able to redirect the Way very slightly. He posits that repeated similar attempts might curve it around back into our own galaxy, were we all able to survive so much stress. Madat is urging us to attempt his theory and link our matrices."

"I suppose we have no other options," Tirqwin said.

"Agreed. You may pull my matrix."

Tirqwin was startled. "You mean to link the matrices themselves, rather than the Wayships?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"The Praxatillian maintenance bot motive systems are not very intelligent; they merely go in the direction they are aimed rather than attempting to navigate. They have been used with success to manually connect many of their vessels. Madat proposes to use them to send matrices to Shahina, who is the less damaged of the two High Wayships."

Tirqwin frowned, then gave a brief bark of laughter. "If we all survive this, it will be a shining example of how our two peoples can cooperate."

"When sufficiently motivated," Khediva added dryly. "And I still think our survival extremely unlikely."

"Hope, Khediva," Tirqwin chided. "You wish to see our granddaughter, do you not?"

"Very much," Khediva said. "But I fail to see how my hope or lack thereof will affect the probability of that."

"It is called a self-fulfilling prophecy, Sabrina says," Tirqwin reminded her.

"I cannot reframe my mind on such short notice," Khediva said. "I propose that you hope for both of us, and I will do the clear-headed thinking for both of us."

Tirqwin felt a grin tug at his lips as he left the control deck. "You do that, Khediva."

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"Are you all right?" Stecklan asked as Ford paused for breath partway up the mountainside. Lyrabeth and Sastarn forged ahead, not looking back.

"Yes. While I was concentrating on the Kyan ship, I didn't feel the link as much, and I think Sabrina was trying not to transmit. But the pain's gotten worse, and she can't help it," he said, taking a deep breath. "We need to hurry."

Stecklan looked around. The forest was on fire across the valley; they were sticking to the cover of the woods as they made their way up the mountain toward the next ridge. The Kyan ships were moving, converging on the wreckage. "Yes. I think we've made ourselves targets. We have to find the mine entrance before the Kyan find us."

They hurried to catch up to their companions, who were having a hushed but intense conversation. Ford stepped on a twig, and the loud crack made both Lyrabeth and Sastarn jump. As Lyrabeth spun with her weapon raised, Ford froze, not moving even when Stecklan pushed past him to interpose himself in the line of fire.

"Hang on," Sastarn said quietly. He laid a hand on Lyrabeth's shoulder, and she dropped the weapon, blinking hard. He glanced at Ford and Stecklan and said, "You know, it might not be wise to startle the person with the Kyan killer."

Lyrabeth said, "The person who is the Kyan killer, you mean. I almost killed the prince." She took a deep breath. "I'm too dangerous. You should leave me behind. I'll try to lead them away from you."

"No," her companions chorused.

"Hey," Sastarn said, "nobody's leaving anybody behind. Besides, you're the only one who can rescue us if we stumble across a search party."

"Agreed," Ford said. "Poor Stecklan can't use his arm at all, and you don't hear him singing a dirge."

"Don't patronize me," Lyrabeth snapped. "Very well. If you won't listen to reason—" She raised the gun to her own head.

"No!" the others shouted, and Sastarn grabbed her arm and wrenched it away.

"Listen," Ford said, "we can't tell how this process might be affecting you. What you're feeling might be due to that. But I promise you, my word as the Prince of Bathir, that we will find a way to restore you to normal when this is over."

She stared at him in despair, and he said testily, "Perhaps you'd like my wife's word as well, if you won't trust mine?"

"It isn't a question of trust," she said after a moment.

"We are wasting time," Stecklan pointed out, when it became apparent she wasn't going to continue.

"Right," Ford said. "Look at it this way, Lyrabeth: you're on point, so there's no chance you'll be able to shoot anybody in the back."

"Were you always this insufferable?" she asked, sounding genuinely curious as they started moving again.

"You should ask Sabrina," he replied, "but I think I probably was, yes."