The ship heaved yet again. This time, however, the deck was leveled out rather than pitching downward.
Lucian pushed his way toward the deck, thinking Serah might have come out this way. When he pulled himself outside, there was no crosswind, no blinding sand. That sand instead fell like gentle rain, with nothing but Psyche’s light gravity pulling it down. The ship was surrounded by a violet, protective shield, outside which the storm still raged. And at the center of the deck, with her feet rooted to the surface with Gravitonic Magic, stood the Sorceress-Queen with her arms outspread, her entire form bathed in violet light. Her posture was one of defiance, of power.
All the crewmen watched in awe, and it wasn’t a moment later that Serah stumbled out from the forecastle, joining Lucian at his side.
The Zephyr, now on an even keel, descended toward a high mesa, which the captain probably meant to use as protection from the wind. Was the Queen powerful enough to hold the shield that long?
It wasn’t even a question. The shield held over the next two minutes as the ship took shelter behind the rock formation. The Binders kept the ship steady long enough for the crew to lower the anchor. The deck became a hive of activity, the crew working to resecure the lines and furl the sails. Even back here, there was still enough wind to push the Zephyr back into the storm sweeping around the mesa’s sides.
Only once all was secured, the Queen released her stream. There was no sign of stress on her face. The crew watched in awe, even as the wind whipped across the deck. The lee of the mesa was not a perfect shelter, but it was enough to ride out the storm.
Her eyes went to Lucian before she returned belowdecks.
“Rotting hell,” Serah breathed.
He knew why she’d said it. Attacking the Queen, at least directly, simply wasn’t an option. For the first time, they had seen her power. How could a mage be so powerful without the benefit of an Orb?
Serah joined him at the bow, and the two stood silently for a while. The Zephyr stayed behind the mesa for hours, enough for the afternoon sun to rise across the Mountains of Madness. When the dust settled, Lucian looked toward the west, noting the outline of Cupid taking up the entirety of the horizon.
“We could have never crossed this on our own,” Lucian said.
“It would have been a challenge for sure. I wonder what happens if we go through all this fuss only to find Arian’s prophecy was a lie, or that there is no Orb of Psionics.”
“It’s getting closer,” Lucian said. “I can feel it.”
She looked at him. “You really think you can find it, don’t you?”
“I can’t think of anything else I have besides this mission.”
“Really?” she asked, amused. “You can’t think of one other thing you might have? Or even could have?”
What was she getting at? “Be serious. You know what I mean.”
“You never struck me as the noble type. Being the Chosen. Finding all the Orbs, all that rot.”
“It’s not rot. If it is, then I’ve wasted everyone’s time.”
She shook her head. “And why should it be your burden? Why don’t you take that nice Orb you have and retire? Find a nice girl and all that.”
Lucian saw immediately where she was going with that. And the way she was looking at him made him unsure of how to answer. The feeling wasn’t unwelcome, but it did make him feel conflicted.
“Only one minor kink in that plan,” Lucian said. “How long can that nice life last if all of us are dead in ten years? It might take longer, or not. But too much weird shit has happened for me to deny it now. Until I’m proven otherwise, this is what I need to do. Besides, I can’t retire. Psyche isn’t home. It’s too—”
“Uninteresting?”
“No, definitely not. How are you able to live here? No offense, but it’s pretty rough, with all the wyverns, slavery, mad queens, and whatnot.”
Her blue eyes became distant. “Perhaps because it’s the only thing I’ve ever known. But even to my eyes, there’s beauty beyond the ugliness. There always is if you look for it.”
“This world has its moments,” Lucian admitted.
“Life is short on Psyche,” Serah said. “Especially for people like me. We have to do all our living in a short amount of time. There’s no time for frills, rot, or batshit.”
She lowered her eyes, then laid her head on his shoulder. He felt himself soften to her touch and pulled her closer to him. It was nice to have someone. To be wanted.
He’d missed that feeling.
“Is this okay?” she asked.
Lucian nodded. “More than okay. I’m just . . . no good at these things.”
“What things? Vulnerability?” He could hear the smile in her voice. “I hadn’t noticed.”
“Well, you certainly don’t make it easy. It just feels like you’re waiting to take a shot every time I . . .”
She looked at him. “Every time you what?”
“Every time I want to tell you how I’m feeling.”
“Oh? And how is that?”
“See? There you go again.”
“It’s a real question.”
“I never know with you. One minute it feels like you see me that way, and other times, it just feels like you’re poking at me.”
“Poor Lucian,” Serah said. “You know what flirting is, right?”
He couldn’t help but laugh at that. “I guess I’m just too serious.”
She put a finger on his chest. “Yes. You are very much that. You are perfectly dark and brooding. I mean, it has its charms, but it’s only interesting for so long, you know? I much prefer laughter, smiles, and rainbows. Life’s too short to brood.”
“Is that so? Well, maybe you need someone broody to balance you out.”
“Hmm. I hadn’t considered that.”
They watched the westering sun as it sunk behind Cupid’s
