Southwest Truths (Semiautomatic Sorceress Book 3) by Kal Aaron (the red fox clan .txt) 📗

plane, it was still closing with startling speed on the inlet, zigging and zagging among the islands.

Lyssa held her breath, worry finally seeping in. The last time she’d come to Last Remnant, her captain hadn’t used such an aggressive approach. She’d hate to have traveled halfway across the world and end up in a shipwreck right outside the island and need to swim to shore.

The yacht soon cleared the barrier islands, slowing as it passed into the inlet to a speed most people would consider sane. Massive glyphs and sigils ran up the cliff faces on either side. She had thought Tristan’s trick with the dome impressive, but that was nothing compared to the sobering power on display.

The mountains and cliffs gave way to the inner island, which was surrounded by water. The artificial nature of its construction was obvious even from the observation deck of the yacht. A dense tropical jungle abutted an arid desert on one side, with frosty tundra on the other side. Dense forests ran up against swamps and a fiery volcanic wasteland with an exact line separating the biomes.

Lyssa had been told they originally wanted to create Last Remnant as a paradise, but some Sorcerers feared they wouldn’t be able to refine their abilities without extreme environments. They’d settled on creating pockets of everything they’d thought they might need.

She was half-convinced it was a horrible accident they were trying to explain after the fact, but it didn’t matter now. No one seemed interested in changing the setup of Last Remnant. After a few thousand years, why bother?

Soft, rolling plains and grasslands broken by trees covered the center of the main island to the city limits. Gleaming white towers arranged in perfect concentric circles rose from the ground, passages and walkways spread among them with mathematical precision. The towers surrounded an interior lake. A palace of crystal spires floated above it. It was the Heart of Remnant, where the Tribunal lived and ruled the entirety of the Illuminated Society.

Lyssa hugged her chest, taking a moment to let the sorcerous power of the island pass over and through her. She’d thought it extreme on the way, but here it washed over her like a suffocating current.

There was so much power for such a tiny population. The bulk of the Illuminated lived away from Last Remnant, leaving the full-time Sorcerer population in the hundreds, though the Shadow servants and workers were numbered over ten thousand.

Intan and the other sailors on deck reached into their pockets and pulled out plain half-masks marked with stylized Lemurian script. Coming to Last Remnant was always strange. It was like a costume party, given that all Illuminated were expected to wear their regalia except when sleeping, and the Shadows were also required to wear masks. It was a place where everyone was expected to embody abstract ideals.

The yacht continued to slow as it approached a long black pier. Sailors and dockworkers, aided by constructs humanoid and not, scurried around, moving cargo to and from the dozen or so boats docked there. Even the largest vessels were modest by the standards of the outside world. There were no big cargo ships, tankers, or anything near the size of a cruise liner.

They did not need large ships. Last Remnant was self-sufficient and had been since before the rise of the most ancient Shadow civilizations. Technology and imports were carefully controlled and limited.

The yacht came to a gentle stop, with the sailors unwinding ropes and hopping off the boat to secure it to the pier. For all the sorcery available, sometimes the simplest solutions worked the best.

Lyssa stared at the Heart. It was time to get her bag and head out. She’d achieved what she’d set out to do. She had returned to Last Remnant.

A young female servant stood outside Lyssa’s guest room in a flowing ruffly full-length blue dress and a rigid blue face mask with yellow eyes and a fixed smile. She motioned to a door and handed Lyssa a small sigil-inscribed shard key. The girl had appeared at the dock to take Lyssa to her accommodations. It was a short walk, only ten minutes, and the girl seemed reluctant to speak more than the bare minimum necessary, which was not unfamiliar to Lyssa when dealing with servants on Last Remnant. Not every Illuminated remembered their servants were worthy of respect.

“Will you need anything else, Miss Corti?” the girl asked in Lemurian.

Lyssa unlocked the door and stepped inside, smiling at the huge, fluffy bed. It was a step up from the roach motel in LA, though she was already missing her television. She had a lovely view of the docks, but it wasn’t the same as watching trashy TV starring people of questionable character.

“This is fine for now,” Lyssa replied in the same language. “Thank you.”

The girl motioned to a small glass bell atop a table in the center of the room. “The shard is attuned to me personally. Ring it if you need anything from me, and I will come. My name is Sumira. I will be your servant during your visit here. If you would prefer someone else, please let me know, and I’ll arrange for them to replace me.”

Lyssa shook her head. “I can’t imagine needing anyone else. Thanks for all your help. I’m good.” She didn’t need to force a smile because of her mask. She’d forgotten how uncomfortable the realities of daily life on Last Remnant made her. “I’ll let you know when I’m hungry, but I ate not all that long ago on the yacht.”

Sumira bowed her head. “As you wish, Miss Corti.” She closed the door.

Lyssa pulled out her cell phone. No signal. It had been worth a shot.

She wasn’t sure why she’d even bothered to bring it. Habit, mostly. She might need a camera at some point, but she doubted it.

There were no cell phone towers on Last Remnant. There were also no computers and not much electricity. Sorcery powered everything, including the floating