Free Chains of Mist by T. C. Metivier Page A

ponder what he had just heard. The phrase ‘convergence of power’ sent a chill through him, and his mind returned again to the Mari’eth, dissolving into dust, and to his soldiers, reduced to empty sacks of skin. Somehow he knew that Espir would be worse.
    But it didn’t matter. He had made his choice. He would see this through to the end. “Copy that,” he said. “Ortega out.”
    * * * *
    Austin Forgera stood just inside the front door of his house near the edges of the Tellarian capital city Tyen, and wondered if it would be the last time he ever saw it.
    He was terrified. Terrified beyond anything he had ever known before. More terrified than he had thought was possible. His hands were cold and clammy, and they shook as he ran them along the smooth wood of the doorframe. He could feel his heart thumping, each beat sending earthquake-like tremors through his body. His mouth was dry, and waves of nausea weakened his knees and made his stomach roll like an angry sea.
    What was I thinking? How could I agree to this? After what I saw on Hilthak? After Rokan Sellas… He couldn’t bear to finish the thought. Even two days and countless thousands of parsecs later, the memories were still too fresh. He dared not think of them for too long, lest he lose the little that remained of his tattered resolve.
    He had not felt this terror before departing for Leva five days ago. But that had been different. Then, Rokan Sellas had been just a man. The mission to kill him had been perilous, certainly, but it was a familiar danger, a comfortable danger. It was not particularly different from any number of situations he had found himself in over the course of his nearly decade-long career with the Federation Ambassadors Guild. It was something he knew, had trained for, and could defend against. All of the Vizier’s talk about magic talismans had been little more than idle chatter in his ears. Austin had known the truth…but he had not believed .
    Now, Austin had no illusions about what he would face. He had seen the horrors that Rokan Sellas was capable of. He had seen men and women, soldiers brave and well-trained, held utterly powerless in the grip of a force that was beyond them. Rokan Sellas had killed them as effortlessly and casually as one would swat an insect. Austin had survived through sheer luck, not through any combination of his own abilities. And he doubted that he could count on such luck a second time. If Rokan Sellas turned his powers against Austin, Austin would die just like the soldiers on Hilthak, or like the Mari’eth. And there was nothing he could do about it.
    Yet it was too late to turn back. He had all but demanded to be included on this mission. He had practically defied the Vizier himself. That was not something to be done lightly, nor undone. For good or ill, his path was chosen. He had no choice but to walk it.
    Besides, Justin needed him. Austin thought of his friend, captured and likely suffering unimaginable torments. He remembered the promise he had given back on Drask: “ Remember, stick close to me if this starts to get ugly. I’ll protect you. ” A promise he had failed to keep—a friend he had let down when that friend needed him most. Determination ignited within him…but it was a feeble flame, overmatched by the frigid ocean of his terror.
    Austin pulled in a deep, shuddering breath. Right now all he wanted was to see his wife’s smile, to hear his son’s laugh. But even those simple things were beyond him. He had tried to call Elena and Jordin, but the comm had been unable to establish a connection. That failure was not surprising; if his wife and son had stuck to their original vacation itinerary, they should be a few hours along the forty-seven-hour u-space journey from Releghar to Tellaria, and communications between realspace and the alternate-dimension u-space that allowed superluminal travel between the stars were notoriously difficult.
    On impulse, he tried again, hoping and