Night Song (The Guild Wars Book 9) by Mark Wandrey (best ereader under 100 .txt) 📕

crouched to touch the sand, and everything crumbled. First the beach collapsed, sand pouring away, then the unspeakable sea followed, and then the moon, breaking into dust like it had been dead for centuries and no one had noticed.

Nothingness.

Nothingness and him. He was a part of the nothing. He was the nothing. He was nothing.

He was…he was Shadow. He heard Isgono’s voice, softly, though it spoke no words he recognized. A vision.

What was he trying to tell himself?

He needed something.

The stars. A bridge. He knew it with all the certainty that existed in the universe. If he made a bridge, he could build the stars.

But he was nothingness, he was gone, and now the air changed, smell and taste surrounding him and unified in its message: decay, rot, ruin, dust.

Death had found him.

* * *

He shuddered and opened his eyes. The taste of death crowded the back of his throat even as the vision receded, but Shadow rubbed his face, feeling his fur and muscle and skull, real under his hands. He had to figure out where he was and…

But he wasn’t lost in the corridors of the base at all. He was in his own bunk. He remembered coming back to take a nap after leaving Rex and Veska behind.

Equally clearly he remembered heading for the rec room and finding himself lost.

Only one could be true, but even with the bunk firm and present beneath him, he couldn’t be sure which.

* * * * *

Chapter 14

Neutral Ground—E’cop’k System

Their neutral location was a glorified tent in equal air-strike distance, and Drake didn’t like it one bit. They hadn’t been allowed to wear their CASPers, and their light armor was nowhere near the quality of what the Zuul had.

Nor did it allow him to hide his expression upon smelling the Pushtal again. He affected his best bored-ignoring-everything-around-him expression—long perfected on beaches with too many Humans on them back home—and debated whether the Vergola smelled more like desert-dried roadkill or seaweed left exposed a dozen low tides ago.

He really wished they had pinplants so he could get Rex’s input, but then again, Rex was probably too busy smelling the Veska-scent all over him to even notice the Pushtal’s reek.

Shadow shot a sidelong look at him, and Drake only flicked an ear in return. Veska had said Krif’Hosh could dream, not read thoughts.

And yet I scent it on the wind, Isgono had said. The words echoed in Drake’s thoughts more often than not. He missed the rhythm of the ocean, or even the obstacle halls on the Paku. Ride enough waves or throw yourself through enough corridors, and your mind cleared. No echoing words from old teachers half-telling you things about what might have been your history, no overbearing alien being smells, no having to hold still without your CASPer and pretend you didn’t want to shoot someone in the face.

Shadow was still staring at him, and Drake realized his expression was slipping as his lip curled back. He flattened his ears and straightened them in brief acknowledgement, controlling his face again.

The temporary structure was about the size of their mess back home, thick enough to keep them breathing, but collapsible enough that the cold seeped in. The floor was uneven, though Drake had come out with a few of the Aku to find the most level planting ground for it when the Zuul had agreed to set up a conversation. The low whine of the machinery keeping them breathing was balanced by the thrum of the equipment keeping them from freezing, and, all in all, Drake thought this might have been done better over comms. Or while he and his siblings were in their CASPers.

The last of the attendees moved through the temporary airlocks on either side of the large room, and Drake cocked his head. Three Lumar on their side—the same three who had been in the room for the showdown with Ifka, including the enigmatic, intelligent female—and another Zuul on the other. This last one was female, nearly as tall as A’kef, whom she moved to stand next to, and impressively scarred. The captain Veska thought so highly of, then. Drake looked closer, but the older Zuul didn’t open her mouth, so he couldn’t catch a glimpse of her metal-coated teeth. Apparently she’d done that after the injury that had given her the branching scar across her face, but he wondered if it would be worth doing even if he had all his teeth. Be nice to work biting back into his repertoire, even against aliens thicker-skinned than Humans.

He could almost feel Shadow radiating disappointment at him and reminded himself again that his youngest brother couldn’t read his mind.

The captain lifted her muzzle slightly, scenting, and Drake unconsciously echoed her. How she could smell anything over the two Pushtal, he couldn’t imagine.

“Very well.” Ifka twitched the entirety of her body and pulled up a Tri-V display from the slate in her hand. “Our offer is this—we immediately cease hostilities in this sector. The Engineering Guild will lift the interdiction holding everyone once we are agreed. The Engineering Guild retains majority ownership of the Astatine-222, with the following updates: the Vergola become the distributors of Astatine-222, with a portion of the stake to now be owned by the Cartography Guild. That should more than cover all gate travel for the Engineering Guild in perpetuity.”

“What percentages are you offering for such generous recompense?” the Vergola asked, with no visible reaction Drake could decipher. The being was one of the strangest he’d ever seen, from its abnormally long limbs of pale skin, to its oblong head. It wore robes as if they were part of its body, and seemed unaffected by the chill, despite not wearing a protective suit.

“You can see it all in this chart. We would need