– to land on the ground at the foot of the Eyrie tower. His ankles gave way, and he stumbled, falling forward. Strong third hands reached out to steady him. A blaze of concern and adoration bathed his bruised thoughts.

The crowd drew its collective breath in a loud “Ohoooo” at his dangerous landing. Then, as he straightened up, they began to applaud the ostentatious resurgence of their old Waterwalker.

For a moment he feared his jumbled recollections and shaky emotions meant he’d completely misjudged the twisting passage through the Void’s memory. But there was no powerful farsight following him, no Tathal, no nest. This was the time immediately after he had vanquished that foe, when events were so close to what they had been the first time, the genuine life he’d forgone so long ago.

Macsen gave him a derisory sneer, while Dinlay’s hardened thoughts registered his disapproval at the madcap jump from the tower. As they always do, thank you, Lady.

Kristabel’s expression was one of unwavering anger. He looked at her and smiled weakly. “I’m sorry,” he whispered inaudibly. “I’m so sorry.”

Her fury subsided as she measured the confusion and sadness filling his mind. He held his arms out to her. After the briefest hesitation, she walked over.

“Daddy,” Marilee scolded.

“That was so bad.”

“Teach us how to do that.”

Edeard nodded slowly. “One day I might just do that. But for now there’s a young man I want you to meet, a sailor.”

“Which one of us?” Analee asked, playfully mistrustful.

“Both of you. Both of you should meet him. I think you all might be very happy together.”

The twins turned to give each other a look of complete astonishment.

Kristabel moved into his arms. “What’s wrong?”

Edeard took a long time to answer. “I’m sorry for the way I’ve been lately. I’m going to stop that now.”

She shrugged awkwardly inside his embrace. “I can’t be the easiest person to live with.”

He pointed out across the city to the Lyot Sea. “The Skylord comes.”

“Really?” Like everyone in Makkathran, she extended her farsight to the horizon as the astounded residents of Myco and Neph gifted their sight of the giant creature.

“It will bring such change to our lives,” Edeard said quietly. “I think I know how to moderate any difficulties. But I don’t know everything, I truly don’t. I will need help. It will not be easy.”

“I’m here,” she said with a soft reassuring hug. “As are all your friends, and together we will live through this. So just banish that horrible old Ashwell optimism, Edeard Waterwalker. This is the life you were made for.”

“Yes.” And this is the last one; whatever happens, this is what I will live with. Sweet Lady, please, in your infinite wisdom, give me the strength to get it right.

THE CAPSULE CAME DOWN close to the center of Octoron’s little township. Acrid smoke layered the air. Several of the buildings surrounding Entranceway Plaza were damaged; energy weapons had briefly turned the iron structures molten, causing them to sag and twist as they started to lean over. The wreckage of crashed capsules was sticking out of the ruins. Heat from the impact in combination with all the munitions had ignited a great many fires, which the chamber’s drones were only just extinguishing. They’d used a lot of crystalfoam, covering vast swaths of the plaza in blue-green mush that was still emitting sulfurous belches.

Human paramedics were scuttling around, performing triage. Serious cases were carried to waiting capsules to be ferried off to the hospital on the edge of town. Thirty heavily armored and badly pissed Chikoya were strutting around, getting in the way of the human emergency teams. Resentment was starting to rise on both sides. There’d be another clash if tempers didn’t start cooling quickly.

The capsule’s door dilated, and he stepped out. It wasn’t a bad entrance, he felt; he was wearing some really quite stylish mauve shorts and a loose-fitting shirt of semiorganic white silk open down the front, like the top half of a robe. Top-grade Advancer-heritage genetic sequences and a decent diet had toned him up, and his slightly elevated position gave him that commanding full-of-confidence appearance, as if he’d arrived ready to take charge and everyone else could now relax. The frayed leather flip-flops admittedly detracted from the image, but he’d been in a hurry, so nothing he could do about that now. In any case, no one was looking at his feet; they were all looking up at him. Except the fifteen armored Chikoya who had swung their weapons around to splash their targeting lasers across his pristine shirt.

“Well, this sucks,” Ozzie said.

He trotted down the capsule’s three stairs to the ground and gave the big aliens his best untroubled grin. The Chikoya resembled medium-sized dinosaurs with vestigial dragon wings. Beefed up with armor that resembled black metallic crocodile skin, they were imposing demonic creatures. And really very pissed, Ozzie decided as their minds radiated the paranoia and aggression that only their species could produce in such quantities.

“So what’s up?” he asked.

“You are Ozzie?” the lead one asked. Its thick neck curved down, putting its helmet tip inches from Ozzie’s nose.

“Sure thing, dude.”

Three mirrored lenses in the helmet’s center swiveled slightly to focus on Ozzie’s head. “Where is the human messiah?”

“I don’t know. I like just got here. Right?”

“You are the one who broke through into the realm of the all-perception. You can use it at the highest level. You must know where he is.”

Ozzie took a sad moment to reflect how semantics always betrayed the universe-view of each sentient species. “I don’t know,” he said patiently, pushing an intense feeling of benevolence out into mindspace. “The messiah is powerful. He has mysterious ways of camouflaging himself from the rest of us.” That was a slight exaggeration. Ozzie was sorely puzzled how Inigo had actually managed to conceal himself. One moment he’d been there, his raging thoughts glaring out into mindspace, and the next he’d gone, vanished, the mind extinguished. It was as if he’d died, which, judging by the amount of carnage let loose in the plaza, was a high probability. Except there had been others with him, a woman and some kind of psychotic special forces bodyguard who also, oddly, didn’t register in mindspace. For all three to vanish without leaving a visible corpse between them just wasn’t going to wash. Either they’d teleported out somehow, which he didn’t believe because the AI was showing the damaged navy scout ship still sitting on the pad, or they knew a way to circumvent mindspace, which he wouldn’t put past that slippery, gloating little shit Inigo.

“Why is he here?” the Chikoya demanded. Oval vents at the front of its helmet clunked open, allowing a misty stream of phlegm to come spitting out.

Ozzie dodged gracefully, managing to clamp down on his feelings about that particular Chikoya body function. “As I haven’t met him, I don’t know.”

“He is a danger to all living things on the Spike. The Void may know of his presence here. It will seek us out. We will be the first to be devoured.”

“I know. Real crock of shit, huh? When I find him, I’m going to kick his ass right off the Spike. I’m going to be hunting hard.”

“We will locate the messiah. We will make him stop the Void.”

“That’s wonderful. We both want the same thing. But dude, you just gotta make sure to let me know when you find him, please. I got me special supersecret weapons that will cut the bastard to shreds no matter what kind of force fields and military protection he’s brought with him.”

“You have weapons?” Sensor clumps mounted on the Chikoya’s armor rose up like time-lapse mushrooms to scan over Ozzie as another jet of phlegm spit out.