Sky Raiders (15 page)

“No.”

Lyrus gave a nod. “The man unwilling to brave the test has already shown himself to be much more craven than the man who fails.”

Cole couldn’t help feeling offended. “What if I didn’t
come here to be tested? Heroes only need to be brave when there’s a good reason. It would be stupid to risk your life without a purpose.”

Lyrus sighed. “Every coward has his excuses.”

“What are the tests?”

“The only way to find out is to try one.”

“What do I get if I pass?”

“Confirmation of your heroic status.”

“Like what? A certificate?”

“You get to keep a weapon from the arms room, a work of art from the gallery, and an item from the treasure house.”

Cole glanced up at the lifeboat. “Can I tell you why I’m here and get your advice?”

“If you wish.”

“We’re salvagers. We want to take some stuff before this place is destroyed. Would each person have to pass a test to take something?”

Lyrus paused. “There are five trials prepared.”

“What if we pass all five?”

“Then . . . I would arrange for more.”

“Would you have time?”

Lyrus scowled in thought.

“This place will only be around for a day or two,” Cole pointed out.

“Nonsense.”

“You know we’re floating in the sky.”

“Nonsense.”

Cole glanced upward. “I came here in a flying ship. Look around.”

“Non—” Lyrus began, but then stopped himself. He squinted up at the
Okie Dokie
. He surveyed the area. “I feel . . . odd.” He rubbed his eyes. “It’s hard to explain.” He scanned the area some more. “How have I missed so much?” He folded his arms. “It’s as though I’m not supposed to recognize what I’m seeing. I’m not supposed to pay attention.” He gave a sheepish smile. “I never thought about whether Parona was in the sky or not. I didn’t stop to consider the odd manner of your arrival. Yet I see it all now, and no matter what impulses compel me otherwise, I cannot unsee it. I never run. I never hide. Not from anything.”

Cole felt bad for the big soldier. He knew he had just messed with his head.

Lyrus glowered at the ground. “You call yourself a salvager. You claim that Parona will be destroyed?”

“This is a castle floating in the sky. You came out of a cloudwall. You’re heading for another cloudwall. You’ll never come back.”

Closing his eyes, Lyrus rubbed his temples. He gritted his teeth. “Where do I come from?” he muttered. “I can’t recall where I come from.”

“You’ve probably existed for less than a day,” Cole said. “Nobody really knows how you were made.”

“Nor do I,” Lyrus said. His eyes widened. “No! No, no, no! You speak the truth! I’m a fraud!”

Cole was ready to run. The soldier didn’t seem very stable.

“I had no idea,” Lyrus said, a little calmer. “I have no past. It seemed I did, before I gave it my attention, but as I examine myself honestly, I have no history. No childhood. No
memories before this place. I pose as an expert on heroism, yet I have accomplished nothing.”

Cole stared at the soldier. He seemed more perplexed than angry or sad.

“Would you mind if we took some stuff?” Cole attempted. “That way, part of Parona can live on.”

Lyrus examined his sword. He stared down at himself, stroking his breastplate with one hand. “I look real enough.” He met eyes with Cole. “Real as you.”

Cole wasn’t sure how to respond.

The soldier looked up at the
Okie Dokie
and beyond to the
Domingo
. “There are fine treasures here. I understand why you salvagers took an interest. But I cannot allow you to take anything without first passing a test.”

Cole sagged a little. Lyrus had been sounding so reasonable. “Why not?”

The soldier straightened. “It is my duty. It is my purpose.”

“Why is it your duty?” Cole pressed. “Who gave you the duty?”

Eyes squeezed shut, Lyrus bowed his head. “I have no answer.”

“Can’t you just drop the act?” Cole asked.

“I’m here to test heroes.”

“What gives you the right to test anyone?”

Lyrus sheathed his sword. “This is my purpose. I may have no past, but I am still Lyrus. I am not deaf to your request. I can be reasonable. I don’t want the treasures of Parona to head needlessly into oblivion. There may be some room for bargaining. But a test must be passed.”

“We’re not heroes,” Cole said. “My job is to run from danger, not to fight it.”

“If only,” Lyrus began, and then he looked like he was choking.

“Are you okay?” Cole checked.

The big soldier nodded and steadied himself. “Perhaps,” he started again, then couldn’t finish.

“You can’t tell me,” Cole realized.

Lyrus nodded.

“You want to help me?”

“Yes.”

Cole had a devious thought. “Don’t run away from this. Don’t back down. If you want to help, there must be a way around it.”

The soldier’s expression grew intent and serious. His lips moved as if to speak several times before he said, “I’m chilly.”

“What?”

Lyrus gave him a level gaze. “You don’t know what you have. I’m chilly.” His eyes dropped a little.

Cole fingered his shawl. “This?”

Lyrus trembled but said nothing.

Cole sheathed the sword and unclasped the shawl. Lyrus knelt, and Cole put the shawl over his shoulders, clasping it.

“Is that better?” Cole asked.

Lyrus smiled. “Much better.”

“Why?”

“The cloak makes a semblance obey whoever puts it on them.”

Cole blinked. “You know you’re a semblance?”

“Not until you gave me the cloak. It freed me to know what I had to know in order to serve you. Whoever made me caused me to ignore my true nature. You were helping me catch glimpses, but now I see plainly. Until you gave me the cloak, I didn’t realize I had been fabricated. This is common with semblances. We play a role without much self-reflection. It helps us seem more authentic.”

“Who made you?” Cole asked, wondering if he could answer now.

Lyrus furrowed his brow. “I still don’t know. I’d tell you if I did. I’ve never met my maker. I sprang into being along with Parona not long ago.”

“A semblance gave me this shawl. How could she take it off if it controlled her?”

Folding his arms, Lyrus paused before answering. “In a place like Parona, we semblances form a system. Some semblances are allowed more leeway than others. The semblance you encountered must have had the freedom to decide how best to preserve the system. I myself enjoy similar freedoms.”

The explanation matched Merva’s behavior. It clarified why she might have been the only one to offer him her shawl. “Wait. You wanted me to give you the shawl so you could help me?”

“I’ve become more self-aware than my creator expected,” Lyrus said. “After you helped me recognize my origin, I turned my bravery against the cognitive limits my shaper had placed on me. The effort opened my eyes to many things, but there were some mental boundaries I couldn’t cross. I recognized what your shawl could do when I first saw you. It was
why I asked about it—to see if you were aware. Without the shawl, my options were limited. But with it, more becomes possible. To be honest, helping you was only a small portion of my intent.”

“Then why point out the shawl?”

Lyrus stood tall. “I want the chance to prove my worth. If you command it, I’ll take the test for you. I’ll serve as your champion.”

12

“Y
ou can take the test?” Cole asked.

“I can with the shawl,” Lyrus replied. “If you wish.”

“You want to?”

“I am Lyrus. The instant I realized I was unproven, I craved nothing more than this opportunity.”

“If you pass the test, we can have the treasure?”

Lyrus drummed his fingers against his breastplate. “It will require bargaining.”

“Can’t I just order you to give us the treasure?”

“You could. But regardless of how you command me, I cannot force the other semblances of Parona to let you claim any rewards unless a test has been completed. Even with my full cooperation, if you try to take treasure without completing a test, the full defenses of Parona will engage, including the catapults and the ferocious beasts. However, if we strike a bargain, with me speaking for all Parona . . .”

“So let’s bargain,” Cole said.

“Allow me to remove the shawl so I can act as the guardian
of Parona. Our bargain would not be binding to the others if I were under your control during the negotiation.”

“How do I know you’ll put the shawl back on?”

“You have my word.”

Cole thought about that. The soldier was still wearing the shawl, so he had to obey orders. “I command you to tell me if you can lie to me.”

“I cannot lie. With or without the shawl, I keep my word. I want to bargain so I can face the trial for you and earn you access to our treasures.”

“All right,” Cole said. “Take off the shawl.”

Lyrus removed the shawl and draped it over one arm. “You wish to bargain for full access to our treasures?”

“They won’t do anyone much good if they’re destroyed.”

“True. I need your name.”

“Cole.”

“What are the chances of other heroes coming here before Parona is no more?”

“None,” Cole said. “Only salvagers can reach you. And we run if things get bad.”

“Very well. With little chance of another hero visiting, and with Parona facing destruction, on behalf of all the guardians who dwell here, I will make a deal that grants the crew of your airship full access to our treasures—on one condition.”

“What?”

“You must pledge that, along with my other responsibilities, I can remain a protector of Parona whether or not I am wearing the shawl.”

Cole hesitated. “Would that mean you would stop protecting me?”

“No matter what happens, I vow to fight to the death to protect you. Remaining a protector of Parona would not enable me to alter any agreement we make. But I cannot allow your crew full access unless I know someone will be able to act in the interests of Parona. Otherwise, by the terms of this arrangement, Parona will be left unguarded.”

“You won’t attack any of us?”

“I pledge that I will not attack you or your crewmates. As promised, I would defend you.”

“What about the other semblances?”

“The other semblances will not be able to attack you for coming here or for taking anything. They must honor this agreement. I speak for all Parona.”

Cole felt satisfied that Lyrus was being straightforward. “What is the agreement exactly?”

“If you pass one of the tests, using whatever aid is at your disposal, the treasures of Parona will be yours for the taking. After a single trial is won, the guardians of our treasure cannot move against you or your crewmates for setting foot here or for removing anything.”

“Including the floatstones,” Cole verified.

“Anything.”

“And you’ll help me pass the test.”

“I have sworn it.”

“Deal.”

“Including my condition?”

“Yes. You’ll still be the protector of Parona.”

Lyrus gave a single slow nod. “The bargain is struck. I can now put on the shawl if you desire.”

“Sure.”

Grinning, Lyrus clasped the shawl around his neck. “Come, young salvager. Let’s select a trial.”

Cole followed Lyrus up broad, shallow steps into one of the larger buildings. The rectangular structure contained a single room with no walls—just columns on all sides and a roof overhead. At one end of the room, on a platform, sat five large bowls in a row.

Lyrus took a torch from a sconce and led Cole to the row of bowls. “Choose which I should light.”

“Don’t you know what test you want?”

“I know which trial pertains to each bowl. I know which fight would be easiest. But only a coward would deliberately pick the easiest. I yearn for the hardest fight—Gromar the cyclops. But is that fair to you? I would be more likely to fail. As your champion, it would be selfish to select Gromar. So I will abide by your choice.”

Cole considered the five bowls. They appeared identical. “Second from the left,” he said, pointing.