CLOSE QUARTERS

It was with a breath of sincere relief that Kae rested both feet on solid ground again. Now the thing to do was run away before her savior knew what was what, and the only thing standing between Kae and that plan was the absolute need to keep her eyes firmly closed.

“Shy, are we?”

“Experts on ancient languages, actually,” Kae replied. “I can read Lower Titonian at twenty paces in bad light, and yours is very bright. If I open my eyes there’s a good chance I catch an incantation and blow us both up to smithereens.”

The Guardian shifted in front of her. It was amazing how easy it was to track her movements even with her eyes closed. The woman exuded a presence, thick as honey and just as overpowering to her senses.

“Bit of a handicap in your line of work, I bet.”

“And what line of work would that be, pray?” Kae crossed her arms. It felt foolish to stand like that with her eyes closed, but she wouldn’t know what to do with her hands otherwise.

“Tomb raiding? Thieving of ancient artifacts? In fact…”

Kae felt a hand patting at her pocket. She slapped at it. She might as well have pushed away a brick wall.

“Hey! Buy me dinner first, won’t you?”

To her credit, the Guardian did remove her hand. The presence felt more intense now, more directed. It was like being on stage, watched by an exceptionally tough crowd and on the verge of frankly overly deep orchestra pit. Kae felt a sweat starting to come on.

“Give it,” the woman said, in a voice that brokered no disagreement. “Enough playing. I need that spell you stole. This isn’t a game, it’s not just some job, it’s serious.”

“I know it’s serious,” Kae said.

“I doubt that.”

Kae searched for air currents, for spaces that she could run down if she found the chance. The corridor behind her had collapsed entirely. Before her, the woman waited, solid and impregnable as a fortress. Just a few feet away, the pit she’d just made it out of yawned in wait for her to fall in again. Kae carefully weighed her options.

“I don’t want it just to sell it,” she said slowly. “It’s the end of the world. Who would I even sell it to? In fact,” Kae found a new train of thought, one headed for greener grounds. “Why do you want it?”

“None of your business, I think you’ll agree.” The woman tapped her foot. It echoed in the narrow corridor, carried by the undercurrent of the nearing Wave. “We’re running out of time. Hand it over, or I’m taking it.”

Kae opened her mouth.

“You won’t enjoy the last option," the Guardian added.

Kae shut her mouth. She was thinking. She had a mind tuned for languages, but one that was more than capable of handling most things that got thrown at it. The dangers of academia had honed her reflexes and agility to a razor edge, but fighting was still a weak spot. She’d done her best with manuals, but the little example drawings always seemed to pack a much stronger punch than their poses allowed for in real life. In this situation, the thing really was to run.

The woman in front of her was by all accounts a Guardian, which meant she had a spell in her head. She’d pulled Kae up like from the pit like she didn’t weigh more than a feather. Kae didn’t like her chances if she tried to employ the Sublime Dance of the Peaceful Lotus, and the can of pepper spray in her pocket stood as much chance of working.

So she decided to go another direction.

“What’s your name?” she demanded. A powerful thing to ask of a Spellwielder. More information was always good.

“Des,” the woman answered without missing a beat. “Now give me the spell.”

"That's not your spell na—"

"Spell."

“I can’t just give you the spell," Kae said. "It’s a powerful one, it can do a lot of good and a lot of bad, and who knows—”

Kae felt hands on her shoulders. Before she could even think of slipping away, she was turned around and summarily pushed against the wall, arm twisted behind her back. Des gripped her expertly, with no effort wasted or useless pain administered. Kae was simply rendered helpless in the most efficient way possible.

“I’ll look!” Kae yelled. “I’ll blow the entire museum up sky high!”

“No you won’t,” Des whispered into her ear. “And if you did, you’d only hurt yourself.”

Her voice was strong, confident in calling Kae’s bluff. A shiver coursed down the academic’s spine, mingling with the vibrations that travelled from all around her, signaling the Wave’s approach.

“Here we go,” the voice said. Des had located the containment sphere. Ignoring Kae’s protests, the woman pulled it out of her pocket and stepped back.

Kae was free. She massaged her wrist as she turned around, back against the wall, eyes carefully closed.

“Not much of an asker, are you?”

“I can be. In different circumstances," her voice was confidently amused. "Sorry, kid. Bad luck for us to run into each other like this. Take care.”

Des stepped away.

“Hey! Wait!” Kae yelled. “You’re just gonna leave me here?”

“You seem more than capable enough of finding your way out yourself,” Des said, off-handedly. “I’ll be rooting for you, in any case.”

Kae risked opening her eyes just a fraction. The woman was still walking down the corridor, streaming light in all directions against the intimations of every single archaeology textbook in existence. She was too tall for the cramped passage, and was forced to stoop as she moved, but that didn't diminish the effect of her presence at all. If anything, it added levels of reined-in strength to her already powerful frame.

“You won’t make it to your ship on time,” Kae pleaded. She stepped forward cautiously, trying to walk where the woman had walked. Less risk of traps that way. She gave the buzzsaw a wide berth, though it was bent nearly double. It had gouged a piece of wall away before it stopped spinning.

“Yes I will,” Des replied.

“Well, I won’t.” She hurried, but it was useless. She couldn’t follow the woman’s long stride while keeping her eyes half-closed. She rested a hand against a wall, making sure she didn’t touch any depressions. Finger-reading definitely counted when it came to activating incantations.

Down the corridor, the light vanished as Des took a turn. Kae was left alone in the growing darkness. She groped for her communicator and found the pocket open and empty. The damn thing must have fallen when she crashed into the pit.

“Please?” Kae shouted.

A long moment. Then a distant sigh, barely audible over the hum of the Wave, and approaching steps. The light reappeared and Kae quickly closed her eyes.

“Come on,” Des said. “I’ll bring you up to the surface. And then we’re done, understood?”

“Such chivalry.,” Kae said, inching her way to Des’ voice. "Positively gallant."

“Yeah, test your luck,” Des rumbled. “It’s been working great so far.”

*

“What happened to the pirates?” Kae asked. She was holding on to the woman’s arm, eyes closed in the brilliantly illuminated corridor. Des didn’t even seem to notice the extra weight, but she huffed and puffed every time she had to guide Kae around a trap.

“What do you mean? And could you at least try to forget you know Small Tirandium, or whatever?”

“Lower Titonium,” Kae corrected. “I can’t just forget it; I know it. And what do you mean, ‘what do I mean’? Did you kill them?”

“Of course you can forget you know something. That’s basic. And no, I didn’t kill anyone, thank you very much.”

“What? How?”

Des sighed.

“Could you please pick one conversation and stick to it? You’re twisting my brain into knots.”

She suddenly stopped and put her arm up in front of Kae. A thin noise, like a ship accelerating into the far horizon, echoed in the corridor, followed by the sounds of failing machinery.

“Blade trap?” Kae asked.

“Wires.”

“Ah,” Kae nodded sagely. Mahk-Aete-Ma had been a known wire enthusiast. "Cut them?"

"Shot them."

“Alright. How do you forget you know something?”

Des was silent for a good while she maneuvered Kae through the disabled trap.

“Have you ever had a spell in your mind?” she asked as they made it past.

Kar scoffed.

“Of course not. I’m not… It’s not…”

“Right, yeah.” Des breathed in. “Spells aren’t… rational. They don’t follow cause-and-effect, they don’t care about the maximum speed of light or whether gravity pulls or repels. Your logical mind can’t really interact with them. So you have to…”

“Use your illogical mind?” Kae suggested.

“Your subconscious, is what I was going to say. But even then, you can’t just give the spell free rein, or it’ll drive you mad or worse. You need to know rules, precise limits, measurements, what you can and can’t allow yourself to do.”

Des stopped to kick at something. A myriad whooshing sounds were suddenly silenced.

“But you do that with you logical mind,” Kae said, more to prove to herself that she was following Des’ lecture than to add something to the conversation. This was useful information, but Des wasn’t the clearest of teachers.

“Exactly,” the Guardian continued. “Though you can’t, not really, because you'd get bogged down in the details. The spell wouldn't work. So,” she concluded. “You need to learn the rules, intimately, completely, and then forget them. Maybe repress is the better word. Until it really does feel like magic.”

Still grappling Des’ arm and taking small, cautious steps, Kae nodded to herself.

“That’s really interesting stuff.” She could feel the vibration of the earth. The world beginning to shake itself apart, very softly. “Can it be learned? Forgetting, I mean.”

“Of course. If you have five to ten years to spare.”

“Ah. Well, that’s off the table, then." The ground was shaking under their feet. "I’m not sure we have five to ten minutes.”

“You're right.”

Des moved quickly, suddenly separating them. For a moment, Kae was sure she’d been left behind in the corridor to fend for herself, that the Guardian had abandoned her. The next, she felt the woman’s hands round her hips and was suddenly lifted off the ground and unceremouniously deposited on Des’ shoulder with a pained 'oof!'

“Hang on!”

Des ran. Kae’s staccato scream travelled ahead of them, bouncing off the walls and the merciless blades of waiting traps.