Fyre Fly: Chapter 43 - Geodesic

With Captain Marlowe still on his way to deliver the Drifting Isles tracker, we’re left to predict the Ruin’s path on our own. Based on the data the wind mage conclave sent us, we can roughly determine where the Isles will be located, at least for the next two months, within about a five-hundred-mile radius. After that, the uncertainty begins to increase beyond reasonable estimates. We’ll need the tracker to lock onto the Ruin once we get close, but even without it, we can tell we’re currently not on an interception course.

The easiest option is to wait until Marlow reaches us and then plot a direct course to the Isles from there. However, the most direct course isn’t always the most efficient—and the straightest path isn’t always the shortest. Better to make small changes early that will propagate into large-scale differences over a long enough path.

At our current mana expenditure rate, we’ll run out in three months. If we knew where the Isles were today, we could plot a direct course, pour all our mana into the effort, and rendezvous with the Drifting Isles in as little as two weeks. But that would leave us with only days of fuel to spare. Too risky.

Instead, we can spend the next month making a gradual arc to the correct hemisphere and region as the Drifting Isles, leaving us an additional month of mana to spare. That month can be used to pin down the Ruins with the tracker, or, should the worst occur, find an alternate landing location.

One month will pass quickly, and we’ll be kept busy with ever more trade and visitors, as news of our city spreads, but I’m equally worried it will take too long. Already one champion has found us; how many more might visit in that time? How many more will simply be willing to observe? Will we be able to keep the Dungeon Core’s presence obscured that long? Having Sandro here helps, as much as I hate using another person as a red herring. But if our plans have time to finish executing, we won’t remain exposed for much longer.

At least, I hope that to be true. Lisari had inferred as much, and I find that I trust her, however unwise that may be.

Once more, my gaze is drawn to my system interface and the new feature that has appeared: Contacts. Right now it contains just one name, or rather, just one letter. “L.” Even though this feature appears to be private, it seems she’s still playing it safe. If I access her name, the option to send a message appears in my vision. I’ve so far not taken advantage of this new feature.

As Mirzayael and I walk along the dock, overseeing the last-minute efforts to secure all loose items before we execute the Fortress’s trajectory maneuver, I watch Ollie and Meritis perform daring acrobatics in the nearby sky. I focus on Ollie.

A prompt appears in my vision and mind. [Add Ollie to Contacts?]

Tipping my head, I think, Yes.

Ollie’s head jerks in surprise and he lets out a rumbly chirp. Meritis appears to ask him something, and he circles around back in our direction.

“FYRE? I JUST GOT A THING THAT SAYS ‘FYRE HAS REQUESTED TO ADD YOU TO HER CONTACTS.’ I CAN PICK ACCEPT OR DECLINE.”

“That I was me,” I reply. “Sorry I didn’t give you a head’s up. I wasn’t sure it would work.” Interesting to note Ollie has an option to decline my request. Lisari provided me no such choice. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.

“SHOULD I PICK YES?” His appears to finally pick me out of the crowd, and banks toward his landing platform. Gusts of wind are sent around the docks as he flaps his wings and lands. One of our lighter-than-air transports in the process of being tied down is pulled from its workers’ hands and starts to float out into open air. A harpy squawks in surprise and dives after it.

“Whatever you like,” I reply aloud, now that he’s close enough to hear me. I turn to Mirzayael, who’s giving me a questioning look. “It seems Ollie can be added to this Contact list as well.”

“I don’t like it,” Mirzayael says, though she’s already said as much when I first told her what transpired with Lisari. “What if it can be used to track you?”

“I suspect if Lisari wanted to do that, I wouldn’t have much say regardless.”

“OKAY, I DID IT,” Ollie says through his translator, and sure enough his name appears beneath L in my list. “OOH! NOW I HAVE A CONTACT LIST, TOO!”

I mentally select his name, and once more I’m provided with an option to message him. A bit redundant, given our mental communication, but I’m not opposed to fallbacks.

“I don’t see any option for it to tell me Ollie’s whereabouts,” I tell Mirzayael, though of course that means little when the gods clearly have access to more features than we do. Still, it’s a potentially powerful tool. Especially if this means that by requesting to add contacts, we can unlock this feature for other Travelers as well. And if it can work on more than just Travelers…

I focus on Mirzayael the same way I had with Ollie, but Echo remains silent. I mentally prod to add her as a contact, but the feature doesn’t respond. Ah well, it was worth a shot.

“I’m still worried nothing good could come of this,” Mirzayael says, planting her hands on her hips as she pauses to watch the rogue transport wrangled back into position and secured to the dock.

“You’re just saying that because it came from a god,” I remark.

“Yes. I am.”

“It’s a tool,” I say. “And we’ll be careful with it.” Mentally, I add, “And it’s one we might be able to use against them. We may be able to build up a network, given enough time. A network other gods might not even realize we have access to. It’s worth exploring.”

I can feel Mirzayael finds the idea of using a god’s tool against them appealing, but it’s still labored with a healthy level of wariness. “We will need to meet more of these Travelers of yours for such a network to spread.”

“We’ve already met one,” I point out, thinking of Sandro. At the thought, I attempt to add him to my Contact list as well.

[User must be within line of sight to request Contact,] Echo says.

I try the same with Blair, and am given the same response. No special exception for gods, then. So the rules appear to be: only System users can be added, and it must be done in-person. A bit limiting, but still powerful.

“I don’t think meeting new people is going to be an issue,” I respond aloud, looking down over the lands slowly drifting below us. The forests have thinned into planes, and according to our maps, they’ll soon give way to a desert.

“Let’s just hope they’re the right people,” Mirzayael grumbles. On that, we agree.

It’s another half an hour before everything is in order. Ollie has returned to frolicking in the clouds, and everything in the Fortress that isn’t anchored to the stone has been tied down. Dizzi lands beside us in a flurry of feathers, grinning madly.

“Ready, Oh Greater Leaders?” Her feathers flutter in excited anticipation.

Mirzayael gives her a flat look. “You are far too excited for this.”

“What?” she cries. “How can you not be? I’m about to pilot a giant floating city halfway around the world! How cool is that?”

Mirzayael turns to look at me. “Fyre…”

“She’ll do great!” I insist. “I have complete faith in her.” Mentally, I add, “And I’ll be watching over everything through the Dungeon Core. I can seize control at any moment. But we need more people capable of steering the Fortress and familiarizing themselves with its spells than just me.”

“I promise I won’t run us into the ground!” Dizzi enthusiastically declares.

I manage to maintain my encouraging smile without falter. Thanks, Dizzi. Very helpful.

Mirzayael shakes her head, but flicks a hand in a dismissive gesture. “Fine. Go get ready.”

Dizzi snaps her hand to her head in a dramatic salute. “Aye, Captain!” Then she launches herself into the air, distant whoops of glee following her spiraling flight up to the throne room.

Mirzayael watches her leave with a grimace. “I can’t believe you picked her, of all people, as your pupil.”

I chuckle. “We need that kind of enthusiasm now more than ever.” I take her hand and give it a squeeze. Her expression softens, and she squeezes back. “We’re going to face serious threats one of these days. The more hope and unity we can foster in that time, the better we’ll weather the storm.”

She settles into a more casual stance, lowering her abdomen so we’re closer to eye-level with one another. “Hope is something you’re good at cultivating in people.”

“I’m glad,” I say. “It’s something I want to do, even if I don’t really know how. But I’m happy to hear it’s working, anyway.”

Mirzayael radiates soft affection, and she doesn’t attempt to hide it. I share some of my feelings back, and her mouth twitches with a faint smile.

“I’m not sure I understand what it is you see in me,” she privately admits. “There is so much we don’t see eye-to-eye on.”

“But the places we do are the places it counts,” I say. “Your passion, your love for this city and its people, your fierce protectiveness. You feel so strong. A rock to lean against.”

She takes my other hand, a rare undercurrent of shyness swirling through her emotions. “I think you have it backward. You are my rock.”

She leans forward, and I do as well, and our foreheads bump lightly against each other, noses brushing. The way light reflects in her eyes is like stars in the night sky.

“EWWWWW!” Ollie cries, mentally and vocally. “ARE YOU GOING TO KISS? GROSS!” He gags for effect, which amounts to a shuttering roar that startles several people nearby.

Meritis is sitting on Ollie’s neck, elbows propped up on his head. “Adults are disgusting,” he agrees.

Mirzayael pulls away as I laugh. “There is nothing disgusting about expressing affection.”

“That’s exactly what an adult would say!” Meritis cries.

Mirzayael narrows her eyes. “Just because you have developed the bad habit of treating Lord Fyre with informality doesn’t mean the same extends to me.”

Meritis pales. “Sorry, Lord Mirzayael.” He slides down the back of Ollie’s neck until he’s out of sight.

I chuckle. “They’re just being kids. Comes with the territory.”

“I’ve never done very well with children,” Mirzayael admits, stating the obvious.

“You’re doing well with Ollie,” I say. “And getting better every day. No one is born knowing how to be a parent. It’s something you just sort of fake your way through.” And learn from. There’s much I can do better this time. I just wish Carolyn had been afforded that chance.

Mirzayael watches Ollie for a moment longer, who has sidled away from the adults to talk with Meritis in conspiratorial tones. She turns abruptly to me. “A parent?”

“Oh,” I say quickly. “Not to assume anything for you. I was mostly talking about myself. And I never want to assume anything for Ollie, either. I’m not his mother. I can never replace his parents. But for as long as I’m able, I want to be his guardian.”

There’s a thread of irony there, given his Role.

“You see him as your son,” Mirzayael says.

My heart clenches as I watch the dragon. “Despite the strangeness of our circumstances? Yes, I do. I care about him very much.”

Mirzayael wraps an arm around my side, and I lean into her. “I care about him, too,” she says quietly.

She didn’t have to say it aloud. I already knew.

The ground lurches beneath my feet, and Ollie yelps as several others let out a surprised gasp. The motion is gone a moment later—like an elevator reaching its floor. But ever so slowly, I note the land beneath us appears to shift in a different direction from before.

“WE’RE MOVING!” Ollie cries, craning his head over the wall. We were, of course, already moving before, but I decide not to point that out.

“Everything in order?” Mirzayael ask. Nervousness threads through her thoughts, though you’d never know it from her voice.

I dip into the Dungeon Core and begin sifting through information from all the spells in its interface. Dizzi’s doing a fine job. I tweak a few decimal points, but from what I can see, the trajectory change is implementing just as we planned it. It will take another hour for the maneuver to complete as we gain speed and shift directions; in that time, I’ll try very hard not to look at the plummeting Bonus Mana numbers.

“I CAN’T WAIT TO SEE IT,” Ollie says, mentally tapping on the Dungeon Core like a pet behind a window. “DID YOU KNOW? WE’LL BE LANDING SOON! AND THERE WILL BE MORE ROCKS FOR YOU TO EAT.”

The Dungeon Core jitters with excitement. More rocks! When? Now? It would really like to try something new.

“Soon,” I tell it, looking out over the horizon. The world feels vast from this vantage point. And perhaps it is—we’ve barely scraped the surface of all the people and nations there are to meet. But with the Drifting Isles to carry us, we’ll have the opportunity to meet all of them.

“Soon.”