Final gunshot still ringing in his ears, victory seemingly theirs, Paco fixed his attention upon the ship’s core. The orb continued to slowly spin in place, its green surface covered in red patches that expanded or divided seemingly at random. As Wyrlynd checked up on Sapphire, the gunslinger stepped closer to inspect it. Though he was careful not to make any physical contact.
Salty, he thought, crinkling his nose. He hunkered down. The core wasn’t connected by any wires or cords to the ship. He pressed a hand to the floor and felt energy pouring outward into the metal. Paco had been able to command the lift to bring him up to the bridge, so the ship could understand his words. So, if that was the case…
“Curious,” he murmured to himself. “Like one big gun. So many parts. Not sure what does what…”
But taking it apart is half the fun, he finished in his head as the doors to the bridge slid apart, making him look over his shoulder. Don rushed into the room with Nakoda and Lilian riding in his saddle. Nakoda looked bad, but the magical mark on his face seemed to be gradually healing him. Lilian hopped off the back and Belkross was there to catch her. They exchanged a look. Paco guessed they were chatting in each other’s heads.
A little rude? Sure. But he wasn’t gonna say anything.
Lilian spared Wyrlynd and Sapphire a passing glance. Her eyes lingered a little bit longer on the two dead androids, but the core quickly took up all of her interest. Hunger flashed across her eyes. She caught Paco looking and put the mask back up quickly, but not quick enough. Again, he didn’t comment.
“Another one,” Lilian said. “Though untainted.” She looked over at Sapphire again. She was being helped up by Wyrlynd. “Sapphire, are there any more enemies aboard this ship?”
Sapphire closed her eyes. “…Give me a moment to…to remember.” She tilted her head towards the floor. “A small battalion of blazes are still in stasis. As for the ship, everything is fully functional. I just need time to…adjust to being in control.”
Lilian nodded. She turned to the two dead androids. “Quick question: Do we need those for anything? Can I borrow them?”
In contrast, Sapphire turned away from them. “That’s fine. I no longer have any use for it. Them.”
Lilian snapped her fingers and Belkross threw a body over each shoulder. Outside of a heavy grunt, he seemed able to handle the weight just fine. Grimacing, he looked Nakoda up and down, grunted, “You look fucked up.”
“Everything hurts,” he groaned, lying against Don’s neck, obviously still in a great deal of pain. “This was a lot. I mean, I didn’t like him very much, even before he got fat and ugly and green, but Sir Andres was still once a Rider. I’m gonna go see what Sir Rupold wants to do with the body. And then take a nap. Is that okay?”
Lilian rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “Just stay close to Don so that he can keep healing you.” She turned to Belkross. “Come on. Time to go back outside.”
He grunted.
Wyrlynd touched Sapphire’s arm carefully. “Hey, you okay? Maybe we should take you to Mama Nomi.”
She shook her head. “No. It will be for the best if I remain here. It will do this body well if I make myself home aboard this vessel.” Her eyes returned to the core. “Make it home.”
Wyrlynd frowned deeply but didn’t push the issue. Instead he took small, tentative steps away from her, not that she seemed to notice.
Paco suddenly called out for Chrys. The silver dragon had been knocked off of Sapphire and to the floor. Mostly undamaged, Chrys flew over to the gunslinger. Paco stepped over to a wall and pressed a palm against it. Lines and sigils spread outward, but he couldn’t make heads or tails out of any of it. “Can you help me decipher these symbols?”
Chrys began to speak, only to shudder. He dropped a few inches before catching himself. As if nothing strange had occurred, he told a frowning Paco, I am afraid that I no longer have access to these files. It will take me several hours to integrate myself into this vessel’s system and register you all as ship personnel.
Wyrlynd wandered over to them. He glanced over at the spot where the dead sapphire had been laying. He then looked at Paco, glanced over at Sapphire, and then back at the spot. He repeated the cycle a few more times. Paco didn’t completely understand, but he gave a small nod, telling the kid that he was at least aware that there was something fishy going on.
As he did so, Sapphire suddenly looked over at them.
Her face illuminated by the core’s green light, she smiled.
A shiver ran up both their spines.
The others met up with Revalynd, Zahir, and Tyr down on the first floor of the ship. The elves were looking around, in clear awe of the size of the ship’s interior. Revalynd shifted back into his elven form. This didn’t change the fact that his mouth, front, and hands were drenched in android blood. Lilian noticed that Tyr’s pretty face was notably devoid of wounds. The coward.
And not only him. Outside of the tigers, none of the “hunters” had offered any aid. Even Zahir, blustering man that he seemed to be, had failed to show. All in all, these people left very, very much to be desired.
We’ll have to fix that, Lilian thought. Her eyes settled upon Zahir. He returned her gaze, and in it she saw awe, but also envy. Suppressing a knowing smile, she told Revalynd, “Your boy is up on the third floor with Sapphire and Paco.” She pointed at the platform. “Just say ‘up’ and it will take you straight to them.”
“It does not require a sapphire?” he asked.
“No. I believe it is for the sake of convenience. That way the ship’s other occupants don’t have to constantly ask the captain for permission to access the other levels.”
Revalynd nodded and excused himself.
That should keep him occupied, Lilian thought. To Belkross she thought, Ready to put on a show?
Always, he answered. His arms curled protectively around the dead androids on his shoulders. Though these dolls are heavier than they look, so the sooner the better, please, Mistress.
The scent of burnt grass and Sir Andres’ dying fart continued to taint the air as they stepped out of the ship and onto the ramp. Several of the elves looked up guiltily. They’d lined up the dead blazes and were in the process of looting the androids’ armor and weapons. They held their breaths, like small children waiting to be reprimanded. Instead, with great effort, Belkross held both androids up like a hunting trophies. In unison, Lilian punched a fist into the air and bellowed, “VICTORY!”
Behind her, Nakoda woozily repeated, “V-Victory!” He then said, confused, “Turtle?”
The lizard had settled upon the grass a short distance away. He blinked sleepily at the world. That wouldn’t have been out of character for him if it hadn’t been for his eyes. The veins of them were a pale shade of purple. It seemed that, like his fart, Sir Andres’ curse persisted. Nakoda and Don went to check on him. This suited Lilian just fine. That just left one potential obstruction…
“Tyr,” she said. “The Riders-Nakoda and Sir Rupold-will need spades or something similar to bury their fallen comrade. Present the tools to them but do not aid in digging. It is something they must do themselves.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, not bothering to look to his father for permission. He then bounded off like an overexcited puppy.
Pity, Lilian mused to herself while watching him go. I always wanted a puppy…
“What next, girl?” Zahir growled, breaking her train of thought. She turned. He was watching his hunters looting. One of them stood up and turned on a blaze’s saber. There was a wince of pain before the hunter’s eyes went wide as he stared into the humming red blade.
“Next?” This time Lilian allowed herself to smile as she touched Zahir’s arm. “That’s easy. You and I need to talk. In private.”
“…You know where it’ll happen then.”
“Lead the way.”
Belkross dumped the dead sapphire and onyx by the blazes before following close behind the pair. The elves waited until he was a good bit away before all but pouncing upon the corpses. Having lent his scarf to Sapphire, he couldn’t use it to hide the hideous grin that warped his mouth then. Too easy, he laughed.
Meanwhile, Don pressed the side of his horn against Turtle’s head. He tried to heal the lizard using his magic. All that did was allow Don to see the ghostly chains binding Turtle’s body. Now that Sir Andres was dead, there was a bit of slack, which might allow him to walk or even attack. But it was all up to chance, unfortunately.
“Not strong enough,” Don chastised himself. To Turtle he said, “Sorry, my friend. We’ll find a way to fix this. I promise.”
“No…rush,” Turtle yawned before falling fully asleep.
“Sir Rupold,” Nakoda whispered reverently. Lilian’s mark and Don’s magic were still a long ways from fully healing him, but despite that he still hopped down from the saddle and walked over to the giant. Sir Rupold was dressing down Sir Andres’ body. Or at least attempting to. The malformed state of the Reaper’s body was making it difficult for him to slide the armor off.
“What are you up to, Sir?” Nakoda asked.
Sir Rupold turned to him and then clasped a large hand upon the halfling’s pauldron. Nakoda yelped. Rupold ignored it and pulled in in closer, studying the mark upon his cheek. He then glanced sideways, to the retreating trio of Lilian, Zahir, and Belkross.
“…She’s up to something.”
“Uh, yeah,’ Nakoda conceded. “She’s…yeah. Lilian’s nice, but not a good person. She’s like the friend you like to have on your side, b-but…scary. She’s scarier than most girls and girls are already scary enough! Nakoda tapped a fist against his shattered chest plate. “But thanks to her, I’m fine-ish now. At least she didn’t set me on fire this time!”
He looked over at the dead Reaper. “Um, but yeah, what are you doing, Sir Rupold?” He frowned at Sir Andres’ own chest plate. “Kinda like our armor, but butterfly’s all wrong and scary…So maybe it’s a moth, maybe?”
“Riders!” a voice called over. They turned to see Tyr rushing over, holding a makeshift spade in each hand.
“Hey!” Nakoda waved back excitedly. He immediately doubled over, cradling his ribs. “Ooh. Too fast…Woozy…”
Rupold released his pauldron, placing the same hand upon the boy’s head. Light poured downward, into Nakoda. His gasped as the last of the damage to his body was undone. Nakoda blinked repeatedly, confused. “Oh! Thank you, Sir! That’s new! Or, er, could you always do that?”
Tyr reached them before Rupold could respond. “Hello, hello,” the elf said. “The young woman said you’d need these. I’d offer to help, but I was warned that this was a ‘you thing’.” He handed the spades over to each of the Riders. “But if you need anything-food, water-Mama Nomi said she’d be more than happy to provide it for you.”
Tyr then bowed to them, and then Don, before retreating towards the opposite end of the valley. Nakoda smiled warmly as he watched him go. “I have no idea what he said,” he sighed contently.
But I do, Rupold thought, grimacing. His mind had automatically translated the language. Despite the Riders of the Wing’s nomadic lifestyle, they’d run into elves so rarely back on Golarion that he’d never bothered to learn their language. What other surprises await inside my mind…?
The thunk of a spade striking the ground made him turn. “No, Nakoda,” he said. “We must strip Sir Andres of his armor first.”
Nakoda shot the body a dubious look.
“Um. Okay. We gonna cut him up?”
That would make things easier, Rupold conceded mentally. Aloud he said, “Just hold the body still, boy.”
Together they managed to get the armor off without damaging the body further. Rupold set the armor aside (off the Reaper, it had shrunk to what he assumed was its original size) and examined the body further. A long slit ran across Andres’ stomach and chest, ending just beneath his collarbone. In the heat of battle, it had split apart here and there. Black blood leaked from the gaps. Rupold used the spade’s edge to cut it completely open. Enlarged organs immediately spilled out, making Nakoda cringe back, covering his nose. Without hands to cover his snout, Don retreated a few paces.
Forgive me, my friend. Rupold set the organs aside and pulled back the folds of skin. This revealed the Reaper’s ribs. By the light of the shining sun above, he made out ruins etched across the lower ribs. Unfortunately, his mind was unable to translate these.
“Nakoda.”
“Yeah, Sir?”
“Come over here. These markings, do they mean anything to you or the mule?”
Despite how much they clearly didn’t want to, both Nakoda and Don approached to give the ribs a closer look. “No-um, wait.” Nakoda hunkered down, resting a hand against one of Don’s front legs to steady himself. Pale magic poured from the animal and into the boy, filling his pupils. Neither seemed to notice. “…Pain to pain. Chain to chain. Soul to soul. Until one remains.” He glanced up at Rupold. The light lingered for only a moment before fading. “Sounds like they’re putting things together, Sir. Smashing ‘em together to see what happens.
He stood up shakily, spade in hand. “I-I’m gonna get started on digging,” he said. “Give you and Sir Andres some space.”
“Wait.” Rupold gestured to himself. “Inspect my body. Search for any similar markings.”
“You want me to cut you open?”
“No. Just look.”
“Oh. Okay.” Nakoda walked around Rupold, searching. He was directly behind the giant when he suddenly stood on his tiptoes. The bone armor was integrated into the back of Rupold’s neck, making it look like his spine was tearing out of his stone flesh. “Found ‘em! But they…they look incomplete. Just ‘Soul to soul’ here. None of the other stuff. Was that helpful?”
“We will see,” Rupold replied, getting to his feet.
Nakoda made a face up at him. “Is this something we should tell Lilian about so that she can help?”
“No. At least for now.”
“Alright, you have my word-Gasp!” Nakoda snapped to attention. “As your squire I will do my best, Sir, and dig the hole!”
And he did just that, much to both Rupold and Don’s bemusement. Sparing Sir Andres another look, the giant Rider gripped his spade tightly, murmured a prayer to Desna more out of habit, and joined in the digging.