Caelum - The Comms Room

Reinforced iron screams against ancient stone as I shove the door open with a crack. The sound ricochets through the corridor, an ugly sound that I soak in. Ozone coats my throat, the same metallic bite that fills the atmosphere moments before lightning rips the sky apart. 

Fitting.

As I cross the threshold carefully contained power pulses across the floor and up through walls, this hub is me; my mood, energy and right now it appreciates the annihilation on my tongue.

Crystal conduits that snake through the rock in crooked lines feed energy to the enormous circular table suspended in the center of the room.

Above it the realms turn lazily in midair.

I stare at it too long.

Usually this room calms me, provides focus, order, everything in its place, every realm mapped and monitored beneath my hands.

Tonight it pecks at my cracked open skull, ready to spill the contents across the table.

Zarek is already here. The command room isn’t the only one feeding off my energy it seems, he felt me coming from across the estate and wisely decided not to keep me waiting. His wings are tucked tight to his back instead of the usual relaxed posture, a rare sign he’s on edge.

He watches me approach carefully.

Not nervous, Zarek doesn’t do fear, but he fucked up, so hes cautious.

Smart male.

I move around the floating table without speaking, dragging my hand through the projections. The map shifts beneath my touch, borders redraw themselves and mountains collapse into oceans before reforming again. Thousands of lives moving in tiny glowing pulses beneath my fingertips.

Normally I enjoy this part.

Tonight every flicker of light gets under my skin.

“There’s still nothing?” I ask.

My voice sounds calm enough that another man might believe I’m handling this well.

Zarek isn’t another man.

“No trace,” he says after a moment. “No magical spike, no emotional echo, no fracture ripple from the Veil. We tracked her to the outer perimeter and then the trail just cuts dead.”

Cuts dead.

Fuck that.

“She didn’t just disappear.”

Quiet words that make the lights above the table dim in response. One of the crystal conduits running through the wall gives a sharp cracking sound.

Zarek glances toward it before looking back at me. 

“I know.”

“No,” I say, jaw tightening. “You don’t.”

Shadows pool thicker at the edges of the ceiling, I can feel magic reacting before I consciously reach for it, the entire mountain heaves a heavy breath around me.

“She was taken,” he replies, choosing each word one by one. “Whoever grabbed her knew how to contain any signature.”

My head turns slowly toward him.

Bad move.

A nearby monitor bursts in a spray of sparks.

Zarek lifts both hands a fraction. 

“I’m not saying I like it.”

“She had my shadows in her bloodstream, Zarek.” There’s a rough edge to my voice now. “She. Is. Fucking. Mine.”

I thread the spell into her myself when she pretend to sleep. Black ribbons curled beneath her skin, she didn’t feel it, but if she hadn’t been playing her pathetic game I’m sure she would have fought, glared in that way before trying to claw my eyes out. The connection locked into place far too easily, an ancient thing that had been lay in wait.

Pain, rage, I should be able to feel her. There is just a vast impossible silence where she should be.

Zarek exhales slowly. 

“Whatever they used blocks everything.”

I grip the edge of the table hard enough for cracks to splinter through the crystal beneath my palm. 

“That should not be possible.”

“No,” he agrees grimly. “It shouldn’t.”

But it is.