The Last Spell 48.1

“They will plead for you to come to your senses,” the voice on the radio continued. “They will say anything to get you back. Don’t fall for it.”

“Are the others playing hide and seek or something?” Kasumi complained. “It’s looped twice since Mireya went looking for them, and now that folk song is about to play again.”

“To be fair, it’s catchy,” Dawn said.

“I can turn it down while we wait,” Cyrin said, leaning over the table to adjust the dial on the radio. The speaker’s voice dimmed in volume, but he was sure he’d heard the message enough times by now that he knew exactly what they were saying.

“Is folk music a green flag or a red flag?” Kasumi asked, half to herself.

“I don’t think you can determine someone’s trustworthiness by their taste in music,” Dawn said.

“Okay, but what about folk music with banjos versus folk music with fiddles?”

Dawn shot Cyrin a concerned look, like she was silently asking him if he’d checked her for a concussion. He had, and he’d done what he could with a handful of magic and no medical training whatsoever. He turned around to see Kasumi giving him that same slightly glassy-eyed stare, like she thought he might disappear if she refocused her vision. There was something charged about it, despite the lack of venom in how she addressed him. It was the look of someone who hadn’t made up their mind yet.

Her question would go unanswered, because just then, Leilan and Shane entered the bridge, with Kaja and Mireya close behind. Shane’s gaze skated right over him to the radio, and Leilan’s face scrunched when he made eye contact with Cyrin. It looked like a rough attempt at a half-smile.

Cyrin felt the claws of guilt come back as he glanced away, turning up the radio again. The twang of a banjo-heavy folk verse filled the ship’s bridge, while a singer who Cyrin couldn’t help but imagine as very bearded bellowed out thinly-veiled lyrics about overthrowing the government.

“What’s with the music?” Kaja asked, staring down the radio.

“It’s— the message is a loop,” Dawn sighed. “Recorded by someone with an odd sense of humor. This is what plays between iterations.”

“It’s a great song,” Mireya said. “I remember the good old days when it wasn’t banned.”

“It’s banned?” Kasumi echoed.

“I mean, people will play it anyway and newer recordings exist, but after two Houses actually did get overthrown, someone had the thought that maybe people shouldn’t be listening to this.”

With a thunderous strum, the song came to an end. Cyrin looked around to see Shane, Kaja and Leilan holding their breath, waiting the long few seconds before the hum of a microphone played.

“I have to say, as escapes go, that was pretty damn good,” the stranger began, back at the start of the message. The speaker had clearly filtered their voice to avoid recognition, and although gender was already difficult to assume based on voice alone— Cyrin would know— it was impossible here. “Of course, I can think of a couple things you could’ve done better, but if you had done it perfectly, then I wouldn’t have found you, would I? That would suck for us both.”

“Who is this person?” Shane asked with a frown.

“We don’t know,” Dawn said. “They don’t ever introduce themselves.”

“You probably have a lot of questions right now. Like, who the hell are you? How are you talking to us? How did you know this would find us?” The speaker paused, before barking a laugh. “Well, I think those are your questions, at least. I’m just guessing, because you can’t talk to me, unless if you shouted really, really loud. And you probably don’t want to do that.”

“Saints above,” Kaja muttered, which was exactly what Cyrin had thought the first time they heard it.

“Well, I do have some answers for you,” the speaker said brightly, like they expected this to be the greatest news they’d ever heard. “I’ve taken care to make sure you are the only ones who will receive this— which is really easy when you happen to be the only people dialing in on the radio while floating on this part of the Kejvan Ocean, so I applaud you for going retro.”

“See? Told you radios could still be cool,” Mireya said proudly.

“Even still, some things are too sensitive to be shared over the airwaves. Like, what if some fisherman gets nostalgic for the good old days and tries to figure out if his favorite folk music station is still airing?” the speaker continued. “Spoiler alert, it’s probably not, because the only thing on radio these days is the audio from TV broadcasts of people who love hearing themselves talk, but you never know.”

Under different circumstances, Cyrin might’ve cracked a smirk at the visible impatience on the faces of the three who hadn’t yet heard the message in its entirety. As it was, they couldn’t find it in them to be amused right now.

The speaker cleared their throat, almost self-consciously. “Okay, so, it probably doesn’t sound like I’m taking this seriously, and I can see why, but I can promise you that I am. To prove that point, let’s move on to the part where I help you!”

“I’m not sure I like this person,” Leilan said. “At the very least, I have something against their communication style.”

“I’m sure I don’t like them,” Kaja declared.

“You’ve managed to stall Sparrow, and for that, I applaud you. Of course, he’ll be back far sooner than either of us like, and he has the meteorites that you’ll need, but this isn’t just a game between you and him.” The voice sighed. “It never has been, but the Dynastics are coming out of hiding. They want the Heirs, they want the First Spell, and they want Bridger.”

Cyrin felt everyone’s gazes slowly shift to him, but he kept his eyes firmly on the radio as if the words didn’t chill him. He didn’t want to see their expressions. If they wanted context for the comment, he had none to offer. He didn’t even know how this person knew enough to mention him.

“This isn’t something you can hide from. Luckily, there is somewhere you can go.”

There it was— the part that got the attention of everyone around, even if they’d heard it before. Cyrin found himself standing straighter, shorter of breath than earlier.

“An hour north of Storm City, forgotten inside a mountain cave, there is an abandoned magic research lab. It fell into disuse seventy years ago, after the Renvara magic supply in the mine it was built over was depleted.” Slow and dramatic, the stranger sounded like they were auditioning to read audiobooks of horror novels. “You’re probably thinking that sounds creepy as fuck. Congratulations! You are correct.”

Someone sighed. Cyrin didn’t blame them.

“But did you know it also was the location where Aphiran researchers came to the conclusion— thousands of years after Ren scientists did, I might add, so you know what side of history I’m on— that magic arrived from outer space?” the speaker added. “I bet not. A place like that has got to have more of the meteorites you’re looking for. Even better, Sparrow doesn’t know about it.” A pause. “If you can manage to get one of them, I’ll return the favor by personally freeing Autumn.”

Every time Cyrin had listened through the recording, they’d held their breath here, waiting in hopes that the message would go on to say more— that Autumn was safe, that they knew where she was, that there was a way to get her back. Of course, there was nothing new to hear. The speaker moved on like they hadn’t just dangled a lure that sent a new wave of rage through Cyrin’s bones.

“Now, before you prepare to break the nautical speed limit and zip your way to Storm City— which you definitely should do— I have one last warning for you.” The speaker’s voice got louder, like they’d leaned closer to their microphone. “Heirs, wherever you go, you will see the Houses clamoring for your return. They will claim you’re being held hostage. They will plead for you to come to your senses. They will say anything to get you back. Don’t fall for it. You may not have thought you’d end up on this path, but you’re on it now, and there’s no turning around. The Houses do not forgive.”

Silence hung heavily over the group for a few moments before it was once again interrupted by the speaker, whose tone was suddenly far more chipper.

“On that cheery note, I made this message a loop so you wouldn’t miss anything, and now I need a way to tie it up. How about a folk song, to make that hypothetical fisherman happy? Hope you like banjo.”

Dawn turned off the radio just as the same musician from before belted a rather relatable lyric about how much the world sucked.

“You weren’t kidding about the folk music,” Shane said.

“You can’t make this shit up,” Mireya replied.

Leilan folded his arms over his chest, and Cyrin had never seen a blanker look on his face.

“We’re not about to trust this person, are we?” Kaja muttered.

“They sound like they’re connected to the Dynastics, rather than Sparrow,” Dawn said. “Based off what they seem to know.”

“That’s certainly part of the problem.”

“Weren’t we thinking about going to Storm City anyways?” Shane interjected, and Cyrin realized he was looking right at them. They faltered for a moment, not expecting this after his earlier skepticism. Maybe they just couldn’t read him anymore.

“We…” Cyrin sighed, as everyone else turned their way. “My sister lives in the Prism, just outside Storm City. It would be a good place to go regardless. We couldn’t stay there forever, but she would let us lay low for a bit.”

“Can we trust her?” Leilan asked, meeting their eyes with seriousness.

“I’d trust her with my life,” Cyrin said firmly.

But even though no one was asking it, it felt like the more relevant question here was whether they could still trust him.

Leilan glanced around at the group, his gaze lingering on Kaja a little more than the others.

“This is a decision we’d all have to make together,” he said lowly. “Either we’re all in, or we pretend we never heard this and we find somewhere else to go. We can’t afford to have disagreements on something this risky.”

“I’m in,” Kasumi said quickly, and the focus of attention shifted her way. “I mean, it’d be a family reunion, right? Sounds fun.”

I’m going to have to get used to people knowing this about me, Cyrin thought. “I suppose.”

“I mean… this could very well be a trap,” Dawn started.

“I agree,” Kaja grumbled.

“But,” Dawn added, “trustworthy or not, our stranger is right about one thing for sure. Anywhere we go, there is a very real danger of being found. We might as well go to the place that has potential.”

Mireya cleared her throat. “I would like to explore an abandoned mine, please.”

“I would not like to do that,” Shane said, “but I do want to figure out what role these meteorites play in this. It’s possible that by going to this lab, we learn their importance in addition to collecting them. Without that knowledge, we’re lost.”

At Leilan’s glance his way, Cyrin offered a silent nod of confirmation. It already felt like he’d spoken too much.

“Kaja,” Leilan started, his tone softer now. “I can tell you don’t like this. Do you want to tell us why?”

Kaja’s frown was deep. She wasn’t looking at anyone, staring at the floor with her arms crossed over her chest. Not for the first time today, Cyrin had the thought that she’d never looked so worn down.

“We don’t actually know anything about this person,” she said. “No name, not even a callsign to know them by later if we do see them. They didn’t fully answer how they managed to track us down, or what they’re doing on the radio. They could easily be pretending to be a mole, and even if they are helping us, what side does that put them on? I don’t buy it.”

“Is there anywhere you think we should go instead?” Leilan asked.

Kaja was silent for a second, before she sighed and shook her head.

“No,” she said. “I’m signing off on this, but that’s not the reason why. I’m doing it because even though I don’t trust this stranger, I do trust you all. And I’m following you.”

Leilan’s shoulders sank slightly with relief. Cyrin heard a quietly released breath from someone in the room, but they couldn’t tell who.

“I’m glad to hear it,” Leilan said sincerely. “Mireya, can you set the ship’s course?”

“On it,” Mireya said, walking back to the wheel.

And even though no one said it, everyone else took that as their signal to leave. Kasumi got to her feet, and Dawn led her out of the bridge. Kaja slipped out silently. Leilan and Shane left together, but not before Shane glanced back over his shoulder, and Cyrin almost wished he’d keep looking at them with that fire. The cold sharpness in its place was somehow worse.

But they knew they’d earned every bit of it.