A goddess's legacy weighs heavily on the shoulders of a socially-challenged college freshman.
***
Liza Shiel-Smith--so named for an otherworldly ancestor who easily cleaved space with a flick of her finger--wants nothing more than to enjoy college...
My stomach dropped. Feeling nauseous, I sat on the fountain's rim. "I'm stuck here for ten years? Wait, I teleported here. Can't I do that again?"
Weylan shook his head. "The spell that carried you here was cast alongside the original transport spell that took Ortai to Earth several centuries ago. You would need the same amount of arkegy, equipment, and spellcasting knowledge as the original casters used—which could theoretically take less than ten years to amass. If you are especially skilled and lucky, you might be able to do so within three years."
I narrowly fought off the urge to hurl my weapon across the room. "What about the other people who did the teleport spell with me—where are they?"
"The spell was originally cast by ten Ortai in different Source locations. One of those locations was Veil Piercer. Your companions likely teleported to the other nine Source crystals used in the original spell."
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
A map replaced Weylan's face. It showed a world with five major continents. Ten blue dots were spread out across the continents and even the ocean itself. The map zoomed in on the northeastern continent, where a purple dot labeled "User" was located next to Darver, Ibar. A blue dot labeled "Mar'kost Vek Tivom" was part way between my dot and Darver, which was good news. Olivia's "Taroth" dot wasn't too far away, but the distance guide on the map was in "kilotails," a unit of measurement I had no reference for.
"Can you guide me to the Taroth dot? Preferably avoiding any monsters on the way?"
Weylan's face appeared again, frowning. "I am capable of doing so, but I was given a directive to find a replacement for this ship's last captain—the original Weylan. I won't allow you to leave the ship unless you agree to take responsibility for it."
I stared at the broken door through which the orange legged snail had nearly entered. As if the monsters and rusty rooms weren't bad enough, there was also a cracked skylight over the fountain, past which was a dirty metal plate.
"Are we underground?" It was just a guess, and I really hoped the answer was 'no.'
"Yes."
I glared at Weylan. "Why the heck do you need a captain for a rusty underground ship?"
He scoffed. "This ship contains enough firepower to decimate a small city, even in its current condition. If the local populace find their way inside, they could accidentally—or purposefully—cause a massacre using this ship's technology. As a descendant of the ship's former captain, you have a responsibility to prevent this."
"I have no idea how to fix alien technology."
"I do. I'll walk you through the necessary repairs."
"What if the other Ortai die while I'm working on this ship?"
"With all due respect, do you believe the lives of your nine friends are worth more than the lives of the eighty thousand people this ship's Source could kill if detonated in a populated area?"
