Apocalypse: Fairy System Macronomicon (a book to read txt) 📖

recessed dip in the ground so the light didn’t spread beyond the immediate vicinity of the camp.

There were half a dozen hide yurts set up around the camp, where the outlaws presumably slept on the job. Strangely, Jeb spotted some constructions moored downhill that looked a little bit like bayou airboats.

Jeb glanced at the moon and down at the slope and figured they were on a slope of the Split Mountains facing away from the city of Kalfath, further ensuring the camp couldn’t be seen from the city.

Off to the side, Jeb spotted Smartass waving violently for his attention, pointing down to the yurt she was hiding in. They were playing it safe in case one of the outlaws had enough Myst to be a problem, so she was half-hidden on the roof of one of the leather constructions, ducking behind the furry edge of a hide.

Even if a Myst user could see a fairy, they were small. Hiding came naturally to them.

Jeb glanced down at the yurt she was pointing to and made a note of it, mentally signaling the butterfly cavalry to start its approach.

The only reason Smartass would point to a yurt would be if their rescue target were in it.

Now that Jeb knew where the girl was, he could bring the swarm of void butterflies in and tear these people apart with impunity. The only problem was it would take a minute for the black swarm to orient themselves above the camp, then swoop directly down in an inescapable mass.

Butterflies could only fly at about twelve miles per hour, after all.

Svek’s meaty palms wrenched Jeb to the left, changing his view drastically. In a matter of seconds, he was face-to-face with an ugly wooden X in a clearing near the center of camp. It was made of thick wood poles with thick steel restraints designed to subdue people a lot stronger than Jeb.

The restraints themselves were covered in blood and bits of gore. Flies buzzed around the base of the wood angrily as the lumbering sapients got close enough to make the greedy insects nervous.

Well, that doesn’t look good, Jeb thought, suddenly very invested in figuring out how quick a butterfly could cross a distance of a mile.

Five minutes! Holy shit! A lot can happen in five minutes!

“Gather round!” Svek called, gathering the attention of the surrounding pirates, who were distracted from their general rowdiness by the call, standing up and peering at the short little monkey their leader had in his grip.

“This gentleman has volunteered to be the evening’s entertainment.”

He glanced down at Jeb, malicious pleasure glittering in his eyes.

“Jebediah, you’ve got some balls, having survived the Impossible Tutorial. Maybe we should start with those.”

Stall for time, Jeb thought desperately as rough hands grabbed his arms and legs, hoisting him up onto the sticky wood. His heart was beating so hard he could barely hear the jeering of the pirates.

“Come to think of it, springing Boney Pete isn’t the worst thing,” Jeb said. He didn’t have to add the tremor of fear as they secured the restraint. It was already there.

“Jebediah, my friend,” Svek said, twisting a wickedly curved knife out of the wood of the X. “I learned a lesson long ago from my dear departed father; I’ve lived by it my entire career, and it’s served me very well. Want to hear what it is?”

“No, but I bet I will anyway,” Jeb muttered, tugging on the restraints.

“Never, ever let someone say ‘no’ to you twice. Everyone who ever has wound up sitting right where you are now. And guess what? Not very many people say no to me.”

The towering melas put the hook of the knife in Jeb’s collar and yanked down, splitting his brand-new clothes down the center.

Sonofabitch.

“H-hold on!” Jeb said, mind awhirl as the hooked blade approached his pants. “How about a Deal?”

“I think we’re past that.”

“Seriously! I could tell you the secrets of how to form a Myst Core! How about that? In exchange…”

Motion caught the corner of Jeb’s eye, and he spotted one of the pirates emerging curiously from the yurt with their captive in it. The man was obviously straightening his pants, sending a lance of cold realization through Jeb’s chest.

They were hurting her.

It felt like some huge, ugly hand in Jeb’s guts flipped a gigantic switch from Flight to Fight, bringing laser focus and numbing the fear down to nothing.

“…I’ll take your lives.”

Svek burst into an uproarious laugh that rippled through the surrounding men. Even the rapist joined in the laughter as he approached, although he was clearly not in on the joke.

“Sure,” the towering melas said, still chuckling a bit. “Let’s hear it.”

Click. Jeb felt something inside him lock into place, and he started spilling his guts, everything he knew about Myst Cores and how to make them.

It felt uncontrollable and reflexive, like information vomit.

He gave them everything: from the techniques that the fairies had taught him to gather and condense Myst, to his own personal observations on the nature of Cores and how they represented the user’s ideal power, and his notes on the physics of Myst and lensing effects, only stopping when he’d run out of things to say.

“Damn,” one of the pirates said from close to the back once he was done.

That’s five minutes, Jeb thought, glancing up at the sky, where the stars were blocked out by the cloud of void butterflies hovering above them, just out of sight.

Jeb glanced back down, and he saw the calculation in Svek’s widened eyes as he regarded him. He knew exactly what the pirate captain was thinking.

How could he possibly allow that kind of information to be disseminated among his crew members? There was a good chance one of them would use it to make themselves