I’d been embarrassed, stripping and showering in the curtained section of the med-bay beneath water sprayed in a thick mist from a hovering machine, but the cleanliness gave me the ability to sit proudly beside the sorcerer. Especially given the non-reaction the moonlings had toward my dress. Only Merulo had seemed flustered, until (withperhapstoo much of an edge) I reminded him that he wore somewhat of a dress himself.
My goodbye to SMSLunatic Freakincluded only a small spilling of tears. Hydna had entered an almost religious fervouronce we exited the ship into a transparent tube set above the rocky plains of a black-skied world. A small spattering of ships sat perched in this desert. Some resembled oversized spinning tops, others predatory birds. My departing glance confirmed the SMSLunatic Freakto be a hybrid of the two varieties.
A man had waited for us, weak-featured, but sharp in his attention. He introduced himself as Mr. Speakwell, gave us fresh earpieces for communication, and bade us follow—but Hydna could not be removed from the shipyard.
“It’s like when a shuck has its teeth in a unicorn’s nose. You can smack it about with a stick and shout to your heart’s content, but it won’t let go,” I explained to the man, after watching his multiple attempts to persuade her into joining us.
Speakwell looked at me without expression, then gave up, leading Merulo and I through the tube. After a few minutes of passing through a dead landscape overhung by night, something new appeared: the sprawl of a massive, rounded building. I kept my cheer at maximum as we passed into its maw, hoping that some would leach into the silent Merulo.
Now, we sat staring at a wall-screen. Aside from the mousy man, Speakwell, the room was empty, the seats that circled the rounded table void of whomever typically filled them.
“Yes, a video game,” said Mr. Speakwell. “Legends of Larnia. See, this is how the Earth looked prior to Event X . . . and this is it today.” On a slowly spinning globe, the continents drew together, merging. “And this is how it compares to the game map.” An overlay of an illustrated map—and even I had to admit their similarities.
“Tectonic drift . . . ?” Merulo sagged in his seat beside mine. I could tell he lacked faith in his words.
Speakwell shook his head. “Not in a mere millennium. Not this level of movement. I can’t imagine such a sudden shift of continents would be conducive to human life.”
“Pre-Descent, the population was near twelve billion?”
“That’s correct, twelve point four billion.”
“I would estimate,” said the sorcerer slowly, “that the Earth’s current population could be measured in millions. And this is after a thousand years of recovery.”
Something in the man’s eyes flickered at that. “It’s hard to believe that the moon now outpopulates the Earth.”
I couldn’t join in their somberness. It was too distant, and too abstract. I could certainly imagine it—the rending of the earth, the sudden violence of change—but at the approach of the Fear, I forced my mind into blankness.
“What else?” Merulo asked. He looked as desperate as I’d felt in the meadow under the statue’s shadow.
“It’s better that I show you. This is the box art.” The screen flicked to an illustration. It resembled the cover of Merulo’s textbooks, with strange words overlaying an . . . oh, dear.
Merulo wasn’t speaking, and I had no courage left to look at him. We stared at the illustration of a scowling sorcerer. The painted man sneered, ugly and evil. Neither eye was false, and his forearms, where they jutted from black velvet sleeves, were knotted with lean muscle. Nothing like the malnourished twig of Merulo’s remaining arm. Whisps of colour danced under the outstretched claws of his fingers—was that meant to be magic? Behind his oversized form, the silhouette of a knight on unicorn-back could be seen, his sword raised heroically. Of course, loyalty compelled me to root for the sorcerer.
“The face is completely different,” I said. “Yours is . . .” Weaker in the chin? More deeply lined? “Far more, ah, intellectual.”
Merulo looked pale, his jaw clenched. I recalled how his gasping had sounded in the shuttle transport. “This is all a bit much. He’s in poor health.” I directed my words to Speakwell, standing attentively beside the screen. “And we need sleep.”
“Explain,” Merulo snapped, rising from his seat. His new attire didn’t catch the air quite like his old robes, which had billowed with his motions like a living thing, but the sleek cling of the garments still gave him a certain power. “This man is . . . someone from a story?”
“The villain,” the man answered, his round face polite.
Of course. Of fucking course it was.
“We have very little data to work with, at present,” Speakwell continued. “Mainly what had been gathered by”—and was that a downturn of his mouth I saw?—“the SMS Lunatic Freak. But from my imperfect estimations, I would say that your world shows a remarkable adherence toLegends of Larnia. It’s scarcely conceivable that any force could accomplish this. Though, that same force stole the Earth from under our nose, and held it hostage in a pocket dimension. Who’s to say what it can or can’t do.”
“It can’t do anything anymore. It’s dead. And are we prisoners? You have to tell us if we are.” Standing, I placed a hand on Merulo’s prosthetic arm, and was surprised at how my fingers trembled.
The small man seemed to realize that he’d lost us. “You are guests, not prisoners. Please, allow me to show you to some temporary lodgings in the spaceport, where you may rest.There is much more to discuss, but your health is the priority.”
“Fine,” said the sorcerer. “I imagine this information is not restricted, and we may access it in our own quarters?” His mismatched stare was a fierce thing to be at the receiving end of.
Speakwell hesitated. “The information is of a sensitive nature, given the current circumstances. Of course, we have no desire to restrict your freedom or withhold secrets.”
“Of course,” Merulo repeated, injecting the words with venom.
“Most of the moon is currently asleep.” He spread his arms apologetically, but I refused to be fooled by the affected subservience. “For now, as Sir Cameron has rightfully pointed out, it may be best to join them and recover your vitality.”
“Lead us, then.” Merulo sighed. He kept his shoulders sharp, and his expression imperious.
