Lucian returned to his cabin to sleep and woke up what felt like hours later. He blinked away his sleepiness and picked up his slate, which revealed the time to be five in the morning, shipboard. The device expanded to fit both hands and was filled with incoming messages from his mother. He’d forgotten to let her know he’d made it safely. For all she knew, he was still stuck on Sol Citadel.

  He sent back a quick text saying he was safe. Within minutes, he had a response.

  There you are. I was so worried. A few seconds later, another text came in. They’re stationing me on the LS Refuge. It’s one of the smaller carriers. The entire fleet is mobilizing at Starbase Centauri. We’ll get there in twenty-two standard days, and I’ll be out of Sol in ten. We have that long to talk without serious delays.

  Lucian’s stomach dropped as he read. The rumors were true, then. The Swarmers were back.

  Lucian began composing his response. By now, the software of his slate knew him so well that he was hardly typing. The words appeared on the screen through eye movements. It wasn’t exactly telepathy, but it might as well have been.

  I’m fine. In my pod right now, though I tripped pretty badly getting in. I’m glad you won’t be in the thick of it. Refuge is supposed to be one of the safest ships in the fleet.

  Was he trying to comfort her or himself? He didn’t want to think about it. Lucian only had to wait a few minutes for a response.

  Don’t worry about me. I’ll survive, just as I always have. I’ll sync some credits to you because I’m not sure how much transport will be down to Volsung. I wouldn’t want you stranded. When data is backed up at the Gates, fees can be high. They gave me my bonus early. The Fleet is working efficiently for once.

  Lucian composed a new message. That’s good. Please stay safe, Mom.

  A few minutes later, another message came back: Love you.

  Lucian returned the message, figuring it was time to stop. Too many light-messages would get expensive. He slept a bit longer, then watched part of a holo. But all he could think about was his conversation with Emma. It was probably too early to find her.

  Around eight in the morning, he opened his pod to find that the pod on the opposite side of the cabin had its door open as well. There sat a middle-aged woman wearing what looked to be a nun’s habit.

  It was just his luck to be sharing a cabin with a Believer. He’d have to tread carefully.

  Her curly brown hair fell to her shoulders as she looked at her slate, which she held in both hands. She looked up at Lucian and gave a friendly smile that crinkled the corners of her eyes, but he couldn’t let that fool him. He nodded, trying to make his way to the door without starting a conversation. No one hated magic and mages more than the Believers.

  Just as he neared the door, she cleared her throat. “Hello. I guess we’re neighbors?”

  Her accent was hard to place, but it seemed to be Latin American.

  “Seems so,” Lucian said.

  “I’m Believer Horatia. From Buenos Aires. You?”

  “Lucian. From Miami.”

  “A fine name. It means light. May you be the light that drives back the darkness in this fallen universe.”

  He almost did a double take, but instead decided to nod respectfully before turning to leave.

  But it seemed Believer Horatia wasn’t through with him yet.

  “Serving the Lord God is my life’s calling. I wouldn’t be doing anything else.” Her empty gaze gave Lucian the creeps. “Is your final destination Volsung, or somewhere else?”

  “Volsung.” She stared at him harder. She wanted more than that. "I am going to help my uncle with his business.” The lie came easily this time.

  Her eyes widened. “That sounds like an excellent opportunity. It’s a growing world, and the culture is wonderful.”

  “You’ve been there before?”

  “Several times. Only on the Ostkontinent, though. The Believers are posting me to the new cathedral at Nova Bergen. There, I hope to spread God’s message to the people.”

  “Is that so?” This had nothing to do with him, but he figured it was better to be polite. They would be sharing space for the next four weeks, after all. He didn’t want drama, especially with a Believer. They were mostly avoided on Earth, but on some worlds, like Zion, they had an incredible amount of influence and were the de facto government.

  “The Church wants to expand its mission,” she went on. She pointed to the slate in her lap. “Unfortunately, I’ll have to learn Norwegian, and they want me to learn it in a few months. At times, I wish the Church were supportive of neural grafting.”

  “If only.” Neural grafting was expensive and risky. It was the fastest way to learn anything, but as far as Lucian knew, the Believers’ Church didn’t support any modification of the human body.

  “Unfortunately, I have my work cut out for me,” Believer Horatia said. “And with the mages on the rise, we Believers must increase our vigilance to match.”

  Her brown eyes intensified, burning with holy fire. There was no way she knew what he was unless she were like Emma. But if that was the case, Believer Horatia was in the wrong line of work.

  The Believers had a chapter close to his apartment, and they had no qualms proselytizing to anyone they found. He always walked a bit faster on the corners where they gave their sermons, sometimes to crowds of well over a hundred people. In this new universe with magic and aliens, miracles no longer seemed impossible. Many people had grown impatient with the scientists’ lack of answers and had turned to religion to fill the gaps.

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  He had always ignored the Believers and their vitriol. But now, he found it terribly relevant, and it made him realize how precarious his existence was. He didn’t only have to worry about the fraying slowly killing him. He had to worry about others potentially killing him, too. It had been known to happen on some worlds.

  “I wish you luck in your mission,” Lucian said, hoping it was the appropriate response.

  He turned to leave, but Believer Horatia didn’t seem to think the conversation was over. He had to resist the urge to roll his eyes.

  “Most of the Worlds seem to recognize the threat the mages pose. Volsung, unfortunately, is going in the opposite direction. The government is even sponsoring that academy. They mean to train these mad people in their dark arts! As if the Mage War wasn't enough of a lesson. As if this isn’t a cycle doomed to repeat itself until their fraying disease has completely purged humanity. Magic is sin manifested, Lucian. Never forget that.”

  She did not suspect him in the least. She saw him as an ally. How far had sentiment shifted against mages for her to take his opinion for granted? Once, mages were seen as victims of fate, unlucky people ridden with an incurable disease that would one day kill them. Now, it seemed only scientists and doctors believed that. That shift in sentiment had to be due in part to the Believers’ influence.

  How long before mages were no longer allowed to gather in academies in hopes of discovering a cure? How long before all mages were imprisoned or killed on the spot, Treaty of Chiron or not?

  Lucian’s stomach twisted at the idea. All he wanted was the space and room to breathe. Anything but spending more time with this woman.

  But he had to hold out a little while longer. He needed to be above suspicion. Even if it meant his sanity.

  Her features were as sharp as a blade’s edge as she continued her sermon. “It may be a war we lose if we don’t turn to God. The Enemy is tainting more every day. The mages are only a symptom of the problem, but more mages are being born every day. As humanity spreads, so its sins multiply. Sin feeds magic, makes it fester and grow like cancer.” She licked her thin lips and continued. “Our gravest mistake after the Mage War was suffering them to live. They continued to practice their dark arts.” She shook her head. “If things continue this way, they will regain their former strength. How long before we’re in the same situation as fifty years ago, before another Xara Mallis rises?”

  Lucian remained quiet. This woman was almost certainly a supporter of Richard Palmer and other politicians like him who were becoming far more common. Was there any point in arguing with her?

  Horatia continued. “It might be enough to break us for good. The Worlds can’t take another war. When the mages and the Swarmers ally, only then will the Worlds realize their error.” She sighed. “Forgive me. I can go on and on. I say all this only to warn you, Lucian. You must be careful. Earth is a safe place. There is power there. It’s God’s chosen world, and as long as humanity holds God in its heart, they can never poison Holy Earth or Holy Zion. But you are going away from all that. Volsung is not like Earth. A beautiful world, yes, but a world of darkness and demons. A great evil lies within it, buried deep. One day, that wound will fester open. But it will not do so until the time is ripe.” Her dark brown eyes were harrowing. “The Believers must always be on their guard. And we must spread our message to any who have ears to hear.” She grabbed his arm, and it was all Lucian could do not to pull it away. “Pray, Lucian. Seek out one of our chapters. We are in every major city on Volsung. Only if we come together can we push back the night. I would sleep easier knowing your soul is safe.”

  Lucian stood speechless. He didn’t dare question her. This woman was far past the point of ever doubting herself.

  “I should go,” he said.

  “I will say a prayer for you, Lucian, that God will shelter us both in this fallen universe.”

  “Thank you,” Lucian said. The words took great effort to say. “And I will do the same for you.”

  “My heart is glad,” Believer Horatia said. “Go with God.”

  This was going to be a long trip.

  When the cabin door closed behind him, Lucian let out a sigh of relief. He didn’t know how he’d survive the next four weeks with that insufferable woman. He walked the Burung’s empty corridors, brooding.

  He saw what Emma had meant about loneliness. Worse, Lucian understood why people like Believer Horatia held their beliefs in the first place. The stories of the mages during the war were . . . horrifying, to say the least. Most people on Earth were spared the worst aspects. But the frayed mages led by Xara Mallis leveled entire cities with nothing but their magic. Magic ensured victories that should have been defeats. Planet surfaces burned with fire, great storms were called from the skies, and they poisoned the very air of the worlds they sieged. It was hard to tell what was real, and what was League propaganda. But just the fact that he might become that one day, without ever wanting or wishing it, made him sick to his stomach.

  One thing all accounts agreed on. With their magic, the Starsea Mages under Xara Mallis had purged all life from the face of their capital planet of Isis with nuclear fire, in an event known as the Tragedy of Isis.

  Isis had once been a beautiful world, with pristine seas and natural wonders that rivaled Earth’s. But toward the end of the war, the League had pushed the Starsea Mages’ armada to Isis, where they made their final stand. Long mad from the corruption of their magic, the mages refused to surrender. They held their planet and the millions of lives upon it hostage.

  The League fleet engaged. When victory was near, the Starsea Mages led by Mallis escaped to the planet’s surface. There, under a rain of tachyon lances and plasma cannons, they committed their final act of destruction, rendering the planet's surface a raging inferno of radioactive destruction.

  Millions were killed, unable to escape an atmosphere that had turned toxic. In mere days, the paradise planet had become a post-apocalyptic wasteland. Lucian couldn’t imagine the terror of that fight, how they could have summoned such power. It seemed that even magic should have its limits, but Isis was history now.

  Naturally, after that event, things could never be the same. It settled the debate once and for all on how mages were to be treated. With the death of Xara Mallis, the last pockets of Starsea Mages were extinguished. By 2314, the Mage War was over for good. The Starsea Mages, the terrible force that fought to create their own empire where mages ruled over all, were no more.

  In one version of the story, people said Xara Mallis was still alive, the so-called Queen of the Tomb World. He didn’t put much stock in that. It seemed more like a story to scare children, that the evil Mallis would rise again to exact her revenge.

  As the years passed, the actual cause of magical emergence, along with the fraying, was never discovered. Headway was only made in the detection of mages through the metaphysical exam, and from there, mages could be directed to Academy Worlds. Even so, plenty of mages had surely escaped the net, especially on less developed planets.

  But given the way sentiment was shifting, Lucian could see how even the Academy Mages might come under threat. As it stood, Academy Mages hunted the rogues, and those too far gone were sent to Psyche, the so-called Mad Moon in the Cupid system.

  Now more than ever, Lucian realized he would never be safe. Without the training provided by the Volsung Academy, the fraying would find him eventually. Whether it killed him outright or destroyed his ability to think rationally, his options were limited.

  His slate chimed, breaking him from his dark thoughts. He pulled it out to see another message from his mother.

  It’s all but confirmed. We’re expecting an announcement from the top brass later. At this point, though, it’s a foregone conclusion. The Third Swarmer War has begun.

  Lucian’s throat clamped. If the Swarmers were back, then humanity had more to worry about than another Mage War.