The Rifts of Psyche, Kyle West [i love reading .txt] 📗

Serah shook her head a little too vehemently. “If they had, they would be here by now.”

Selene pursed her lips but said nothing. Lucian supposed it was naïve to think drama would go away with the Queen’s expulsion.

“There’s one more thing I have to do,” he said. “I’ll be back.”

Without waiting for an answer, Lucian went up the crystalline steps circling the interior of the Spire. He realized then how high they rose. The three of them at the bottom looked small indeed even halfway up. The top of the Spire was certainly higher than the dune that had once covered it. Either it had grown after being unearthed, or it had risen up from beneath the sand. The second option seemed more likely.

Once he reached the room where he’d found the Orb, he discovered it wasn’t a room at all. The time aura had only made it seem like a room. In fact, it was the top of the tower, in the shape of a Septagon with seven sharp points, each denoting an Aspect of Magic. Each of those points had a carved line leading to the center of the roof, where the empty pedestal stood. Looming above was the gas giant Cupid, its bands pearlescent, its bloodred storm sinister. Several smaller moons were silhouetted against it, like moles on a face.

Lucian reached for the Orb of Psionics, trying to impart his purpose onto it.

Reach across lightyears, across stars. Find Vera, wherever she is.

Ether rushed into him as the command was enacted. His Focus expanded outward, far beyond the atmosphere of the planet. It did not find Vera in the Cupid System, nor did it find her in the vast space beyond it. Lucian’s Focus spread farther and farther, stretching thin even as more magic streamed from the Orb. Multiple stars entered its awareness, along with their planets, thousands of millions of souls. The ethereal field thrummed before him, and though he could now see a thousand stars, it was but a grain of sand in the context of the galaxy.

It was all too much. An existential dread overwhelmed him, of his smallness in the universe. All he could feel was that vast darkness, his insignificance against it.

He needed to find Vera before it broke him. She was somewhere out here. If he could just get a message out . . .

Then, there was a connection. He saw her form, huddled around a fire in what appeared to be some ancient ruins. As with every time he had seen her, her dark hood was thrown overhead, her eyes black as she stared into the flames. From this image, there was no telling what planet she was on. All Lucian knew was that she was far, far away. Just seeing her brought back all his misgivings, all his doubts about her. He almost cut off the link.

But he had to go through with it. He saw no other option.

Vera . . .

When Vera looked up at him, her eyes widened, but she recovered quickly, as if him being there was the most natural thing in the Worlds. Nothing could phase her for long.

Lucian. I wondered when the Manifold would make good on its promise to bring us together again.

Her voice was the same – like the wind rustling over dead leaves. It sent a chill down his spine. Magic roared through him, a hurricane of ether. He could not keep this up for long, even with the Orb of Psionics.

I need help, Vera. I’m on Psyche, and I need you to come get me.

She watched him closely, her eyes dark and seeming to hold many secrets.

I daresay you do need help. This link you’ve forged is a clumsy thing. It should be . . . impossible. I can show you how to do it better.

I have the Orb of Psionics. And the Orb of Binding. Please. You must help me.

Her gaze grew intense as she peered into him. Something told Lucian that those words had reeled her to the core, despite her lack of reaction.

Indeed? It’s clear we have much to speak of, but already, I feel your link slipping. And how did you know I have a ship at my disposal? I never told you about that.

I didn’t know. I just figured the prophecy you told me might be true. That we would meet again. That . . . you would train me. That’s all I had to go on.

I see. I remember you not believing me. But people only cling to prophecy once they’ve lost everything else.

She was going to say “no.” Lucian could feel it in his bones. All of this had been for nothing.

Fear not, Lucian. I will be there as soon as I’m able. You have but one job until then.

What’s that?

Her eyes bored into his, and it was as if she had grabbed him by the shoulders. Survive.

The connection severed, and Lucian’s vision blackened as sound retreated. When the world returned, he was on his knees and the wind was gusting over the rooftop. Footsteps approached from behind. He whirled to see Serah, whose eyes were wide while her blonde hair was blown by the wind.

“You okay?”

Lucian forced himself to nod. “It’s done. I contacted her.”

“Vera? It worked?”

“It did. Only . . . I’m not sure it’s a good thing.”

“I’m not in the mood for riddles.”

He stood. “It’s nothing. She said she’d be here as soon as she’s able.”

“That’s good news, right?”

Lucian shook his head. “I’m not sure. I just have this weird feeling about it. The connection broke, so there wasn’t time to ask any more. Whatever I did to reach her, though . . . I never want to go through that again.”

Serah came forward and held him. He wanted to break down and cry like a child. The image of all those stars, all that space . . . it was enough to drive someone mad. People weren’t meant for such vastness, to know so many things. They