The Rifts of Psyche by Kyle West (popular e readers txt) 📗

an unrefined brute, Lucian. You must listen to a lady when she speaks and give the appropriate response to whatever she says. You might be surprised how far that gets you.”

He suppressed the urge to growl. Doing that would only make him sound like an unrefined brute. “Well, you’re full of surprises. I’ll give you that.”

Her posture seemed to thaw a bit. “That’s better. Well, Seeking is rather simple. Using Radiance, you can learn to feel flows of ether accumulating into a mage. Some are better at Seeking than others. When a mage doesn’t want to be found, they can stream what’s called a concealment ward, also using Radiant Magic. Done right, it keeps the mage from being sensed ethereally.”

“I see,” Lucian said. “Thanks for explaining.”

“You’re welcome.” After a moment of silence, she continued. “I feel like I need to explain something else to you. You’re from a warm climate, right, so customs are different. Here on Psyche, in the Upper Reaches, there’s little firewood. All you have is warm bodies to keep from freezing. So, this is very normal to me. In fact, it’s highly offensive to sleep separately from someone. It means you greatly dislike them, or you’re mad at them, or you’re just trying to insult them in some way.”

She snuggled even closer. Well, now there was nothing he could do. If he tried to create some space now, then he would be “insulting” her.

“I think you’re just making that up.”

“Not at all.”

“Then if Ramore were to see this, he’d be fine with it? Were you guys together or something?”

She giggled. “Well, I admit he probably wouldn’t be fine. Then again, it’s hard to live with someone who’s in his state. He’s . . . not right in the head anymore.”

“Sorry about that.”

“It’s life,” she said. “Well, thanks for humoring me. I think I’m ready to sleep now.”

Her breaths were almost immediately even with sleep. Now that she was quiet, Lucian found he had a million questions for her, mostly about Psyche itself. Such information could save his life down the line.

But he was also tired. He closed his eyes, the warmth of her body lulling him to sleep.

When the morning’s rays illumined the underground shelter, he and Serah had somehow ended up holding each other, to the point where there was plenty of available space in the cavity. The air around them was cold, so the surface had to be even more frigid. After Volsung, though, nothing would ever feel truly cold to him. He had to admit her warmth felt good, but at some point it had to come to an end. He couldn’t let himself enjoy it too much. He still wasn’t sure of her, and likely wouldn’t be seeing her again after today if she was still keen on leading him to Kiro.

Her eyes lazily opened, blinking in the light of the dusty sunbeams falling between cracks of rubble. She looked at him a moment, registering he was there, before shifting to stand and boost herself out of the hole. In a moment, all the warmth between them dissipated.

“Can’t we sleep in a little longer?” he asked.

She gave a short chuckle. “Can’t get enough of me now, huh? I would, sunshine, but we’ve got a long day ahead of us. Unless you intend to join me and Ramore back at the cave.”

No, he most certainly didn’t intend on that.

“We need to get moving. It’ll warm you up, and it’s coldest in the early morning, especially here in the Upper Reaches. The mountain air is thin. But we’ve got to get moving if you’re to make Kiro before nightfall. And I’ll need to find shelter for the night.”

Lucian followed her out, finding that the gray daylight of the surface was indeed cold. They stood close, and despite her lack of layers, she didn’t seem affected by the chill. A mountain woman, or perhaps a cavewoman, through and through.

“Are all women here like you?”

She laughed. “No. There’s no one like me, not in all the Rifts of Psyche.” She pointed toward the pass, which was now a mountain of rubble. “Today’s task is getting out of this pass and on your way to Kiro. Thing is, they don’t let just anyone in.”

“So, how do I get let in?”

She pointed toward the sharp rocks Lucian had used to skewer the wyverns. He could see what remained of the wyverns’ twisted, mangled corpses in the violet morning light.

“If we harvest a trophy from those, it might be enough to convince the Elders you’re worth it. The venom in their fangs is especially prized. Not every mage can kill one of those things, after all.”

“You have a knife to cut it?”

She produced a dark, obsidian knife. “This’ll do. Once done, we’ll be on our way. Ramore should be good on his own till tomorrow, and I know how to take care of myself. You don’t live as long as me unless you know what you’re doing.”

“All right, then,” he said. “Lead the way.”

They began by hopping along the broken boulders toward the wyvern carcasses, a sort of dance in the low gravity. Though Serah never explicitly said, it seemed she was racing him. She was always one step ahead, adroitly leaping from one broken boulder to another, her blonde hair streaming behind.

“So, you still haven’t told me,” she called back. “How does a little mage boy like you tear down cliffs like this? If the Elders of Kiro ever hear of it, they’ll think you’re mad with the fraying.”

Lucian stopped and feigned the need to breathe, to have more time to prepare his answer. “In life-or-death situations, people are capable of incredible things.”

“That’s a slippery answer if I’ve ever heard one. What’d they teach you on Volsung, and might I learn it?”

Lucian laughed, but thankfully, Serah seemed to tire of the subject soon enough. She was scaling the cliff leading up to the wyvern remains. Lucian took note of her path and followed her.

Despite where he