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

He reached for Gravitonics, fumbling for a counterstream to extricate himself from this situation. But he couldn’t even feel his ether in the first place. Whatever this mage was doing, it was far beyond his abilities to fight against. He realized he knew nothing, that he had had barely any training at all.

He was completely at this woman’s mercy.

Still, that didn’t stop him from trying to reverse the Gravitonic stream. He tried to brute force through the block around his Focus, but again, there was nothing. He struggled to lift his arms but gave up after a few seconds. They were like leaden weights in Jupiter’s gravity.

“Let me go,” Lucian managed, fighting for breath. “I won’t hurt you.”

From the sound of her breathing, he guessed the woman stood about a meter behind him. A strange chortle escaped her throat.

“You’re a rotting poor Hunter,” she said. Her voice sounded young, probably around his age. From that earlier maddened cackle, he had expected an old hag. “Either that or you’re fresh off a barge. Either way, if you don’t cause any more problems, I might not kill you.”

Lucian had no choice but to be at her mercy. She ran her hands over the length of his body. He tried to squirm away but couldn’t; she didn’t avoid the areas he wished she would. Those probing fingers were like eels, seeking any sort of weapon. He groaned as he fought to escape.

“Now, now,” she said. “Can’t have you stabbing me with a surprise shockspear, can we?”

“Hands off,” Lucian said. “I don’t have any damn shockspear.”

The sheer weight of his body was almost enough to suffocate him on its own. His vision was getting dark – blood and oxygen were not reaching his brain efficiently. If she didn’t let him go, and soon, he would pass out. And if he passed out, he would never wake up again.

The weight suddenly released, and Lucian scrambled free. He whipped around to face the woman and was surprised by what he saw. Even in her raggedy clothing cinched together with a rough piece of rope, she cut a striking figure. Her pale, blonde hair fell just past her shoulders, while her eyes were intense and blue. Her bare feet were filthy and heavily calloused. How she got around on these rocky trails, Lucian couldn’t begin to guess. She looked the part of the quintessential cavewoman, and the local make of her clothes told him that she was no prisoner from a barge. She was most likely born and raised here.

Last of all, he noticed part of her left arm was mottled with sickly pink patches. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from that skin, of which he had only read and heard about.

She was a fray.

“Don’t mind my arm,” she said. “I’m not far gone, yet, whatever the Elders of Kiro would have you believe. I’ve still got my mind, of that you can be sure.”

Lucian backed up a step. Any moment now, she could lash out and end his life. She had so easily overpowered him. Worse, he couldn’t even stream his own magic to undo her block.

“If you unblock me, I won’t hurt you,” Lucian said.

She seemed to consider for a moment. “Not a chance. Of me unblocking you, or you hurting me.”

Lucian hadn’t expected that to work, but it had been worth a try. “I was only looking for a place to stay. I can leave you in peace.”

“You are fresh off a barge,” she said. “No fray-hunter would be as incompetent as you.”

Despite the insult, Lucian almost breathed a sigh of relief. She no longer saw him as a threat, which was exactly what he needed.

“I just landed here. So what?”

The woman rolled her eyes. “How long have you been here, exactly?”

“Six hours, maybe? It’s hard to say.”

Lucian wondered why she was asking him all these questions. She probably wouldn’t be going through the trouble if she planned on killing him.

“That explains it. Being fresh off the barge is the only reason you’d be dumb enough to go out there at night. I’m just trying to help.”

“Help? You almost killed me!”

“I wasn’t sure of you at first, but I’m reasonably sure you can’t kill me. I can’t let you go back out there. It would be irresponsible of me.”

“Okay. Well, why would you want to help me?”

“Well, why wouldn’t I? You’re a lost little puppy out in the wilds. I’m not a cold-hearted bitch.”

“Sorry. I guess I’m pretty cautious after you attacked me.”

“You were trying to run. I thought you were here to kill me. And if I’d let you go, that would’ve been the end of you.”

“Why is that?”

“Wyverns.” The firelight lent her blue eyes an intense appearance. “They hunt the rifts at night. Doesn’t matter if it’s pitch black. They have large eyes that catch the smallest amount of light, and where there’s no light, they can smell your warmth. Failing that, they can use their shrieks to find their prey. They always hunt in pairs, husband and wife.”

“That’s romantic,” Lucian said. The joke didn’t do much to take away the sick wrenching in his gut.

“Only caves are safe, with a bright enough fire to keep them away. They hate the light and will only fly in it if you really piss them off.”

“I thought you said they like warmth. Fire means warmth.”

“Aye, that it does. But light blinds them something fierce, and they won’t attack into it unless they are truly desperate.”

The woman suddenly approached. Lucian tensed, but she only walked past him and took a seat on a rock by the fire. There, she warmed her hands. “Have a seat. Looks like you’ve seen better days. I don’t have much, but there’s food and water.”

Lucian approached the fire cautiously and sat on the ground. He felt a curious pressure release in his mind. When he reached for his Focus, he had access to his magic again. He watched her for a moment cautiously, suspecting some trick. But it seemed