:?:?:? SIXFLAME ?:?:?:?

  I awoke to humming, like the warning tone of a pressure valve about to rupture. My eyes flew open, but my body refused to respond. My limbs were pinned as if encased in resin.

  A man’s face hovered above me. He had high cheekbones, gravel-grey eyes and snow-white hair oddly tinged with a violet glow. Fingers pressed against my forehead and let go.

  “The world-walker awakens,” said the man. “Welcome, Sixflame.”

  Sixflame. I latched onto it, for that was my name now.

  “Do you know who I am?” asked the man.

  A fragmented memory surfaced of him towering over me in the cramped cockpit of a transport craft, alarms wailing. He was shouting things, but the roar of the engines had drowned out most of his words. Except his name.

  “Starcarver,” I said.

  He nodded slowly, his smile broadening. Behind him stood two figures in heavy robes, their faces in shadow. They were the ones humming that maddening tone. He raised a hand, and they stopped.

  “Can you move?” he asked.

  I tried to nod, but my neck was stiff. More memories flooded back. The transit station, the medical procedures, the stasis pod.

  I had escaped.

  “Your body remembers what your mind forgets,” Starcarver said. “Feel the world beneath you, Sixflame. This is Kabus the Untamed Moon, calling to you.”

  I focused on my palms, trying to feel where I was. Some kind of platform. I turned my head slightly and saw bodies laid out in a row nearby. I stared at them, trying to decide if this was a normal thing.

  What had I escaped into?

  “They are still in stasis.” Starcarver must have read my mind. “We shall awaken them shortly.”

  With tremendous effort, I hauled myself upright. The hangar swam around me, a space of storage containers stacked against walls and unfamiliar equipment. Through a vast skylight I saw a massive purple gas giant hanging high in the sky. The source of that violet glow.

  “Slowly,” Starcarver cautioned, steadying me with a firm grip. “Your spirit desires to race ahead of your flesh.”

  One of the robed figures stepped forward. It was a woman, her face lined with age and hardship. “Vanguard, with respect, the Hub Chief is waiting. We can oversee this one's orientation.”

  Starcarver's grip on my shoulder tightened almost imperceptibly. “Sister Gemheart, you should know that Sixflame is under my direct guidance.”

  The woman's lips thinned. “Of course, but our precepts require—”

  Starcarver's smile silenced her. “Our precepts guide, they do not dictate. See to his physical recovery while I meet with the Hub Chief. When I return, Sixflame and I will discuss his unique role in our Passage.”

  “But—” I wanted to ask what was going on, but a wave of nausea hit me, and I doubled over.

  Starcarver gently patted my back. “Rest, Sixflame. Your body still awakens.” He turned to the robed figures. “I shall return shortly.”

  As he swept away, the two moved closer. One was Sister Gemheart and other a rugged-faced man.

  “I am Brother Dawnchaser,” said the man. “The Vanguard places great importance on you. Where did you complete your First Passage?”

  I stared at him. “First Passage?”

  They exchanged glances.

  “Your initial world-walking,” said Sister Gemheart. “All Torchers must complete their First Passage on a Torcher world.”

  “I'm from Enclave II,” I said.

  Her brow furrowed. “I've not heard of it. Does it have a Torcher tradition?”

  “No. It's an afterthought colony. Resource extraction that was abandoned when profits dropped.” I tried to smile. “The company only evacuated those named in original contracts. Children were left as “unclaimed assets.”

  The pair were already shaking their heads before I finished talking.

  “I’m sorry, but if you haven't completed First Passage, you're not a true Torcher,” Sister Gemheart said bluntly. “Did the Vanguard know this? Did you lie to him?”

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  I swallowed hard. “Starcarver rescued me from Enclave II. He said—”

  “Rescued?” Brother Dawnchaser interrupted. “The Vanguard does not rescue people. He guides those already committed to the Torcher way.”

  “He told me I could walk new worlds. He gave me a new name—”

  “And here you sit with a name you haven't earned,” Sister Gemheart snapped. “The Torcher way is sacred. There are no shortcuts. You'll need to return on the transport.”

  “I can't go back,” I said. “Unauthorized departure is punishable by processing.” At their blank looks, I added, “They'll render me down for protein paste.”

  Brother Dawnchaser's expression softened slightly. “Perhaps we can find work for you here on Kabus. They need strong hands. A simple but honest life.”

  Perfect. I'd crossed countless light-years just to end up with the same callused hands and aching back. Different moon, same shovel. Although, I glanced up at the skylight, it was a nice change of scenery from Enclave II's endless rock walls.

  Suddenly the room started spinning again. I clutched the edge of the platform, newly aware of how precarious my position was. Starcarver had promised me freedom, purpose, a new beginning, but he hadn't mentioned anything about a cult.

  “Rest,” Sister Gemheart said, her voice distant as the dizziness overwhelmed me. “We will sort this out when the Vanguard returns.”

  I lay back, staring up at the violet giant in the sky. Time slipped by. The other Torchers were awakened one by one. I watched as they rose with proper reverence, speaking the right words, moving with the right motions. Their robes were pristine despite the journey.

  I felt like I'd been dragged through an exhaust vent. What unique role did Starcarver have in store for me? I hoped it wouldn’t be as their pack animal.

  Even us on Enclave II had heard about the Torchers. Anti-tech zealots who wandered across worlds on Passages with nothing but the clothes on their backs and whatever tools they could fashion by hand. These were spiritual quests on which they supposedly listened to the voice of each planet, learning its wisdom.

  Planet-botherers.

  I'd always assumed these tales were exaggerated. But looking at their reverent faces now, I wasn't so sure. They had the serene expressions of people prepared to die for their beliefs.

  When Starcarver finally swept into the hangar, the awakened Torchers rose to fawn at him. Then they settled into a group conversation, their hushed voices hissing with urgency.

  No prizes for guessing their problem. Me. The impostor in their midst.

  I hauled myself upright, my limbs responding sluggishly. The medical team on the transit station had left my body feeling strangely clean. I flexed my fingers, studying them as if they belonged to someone else. The embedded ore fragments were gone, leaving behind pale scars. Even with trembling legs still unreliable beneath me, I forced myself to stand. If they were going to make me leave, I'd walk out on my own feet.

  Starcarver's eyes found mine across the hangar. He smiled, then gestured for me to join them.

  “Sixflame,” he said warmly as I approached. “I trust your awakening has been without complication?”

  Before I could answer, Sister Gemheart spoke. “Vanguard, this one has not completed his First Passage. He is not a true Torcher.”

  “He's a colonist from Enclave II,” Brother Dawnchaser added. “He knows nothing of our ways.”

  Starcarver's smile didn't waver. “And yet he stands before us, called to this Passage.”

  “He is barely into working age,” said Sister Gemheart.

  Huh. What sort of world was she from? I’d been working for as long as I could remember.

  “Do we not teach that the universe speaks through many voices? That wisdom comes from unexpected sources?” He placed a hand on my shoulder. “Sixflame walks a different path from ours, but it joins us here, on Kabus.” The Torchers exchanged looks of uncertainty.

  “What of his role?” Brother Dawnchaser asked. “He has not earned—”

  “He will be our sentinel,” Starcarver announced.

  Well, that certainly had an impact. I had no idea what a sentinel was, but from the Torchers’ expressions around me, it was either an enormous honor or a terrible punishment. Probably both.

  “He will learn our ways as we walk,” Starcarver continued, his tone brooking no further argument. “And we will learn from his fresh eyes. The universe has sent him to us for a purpose, and I will not question its wisdom.”

  The matter was settled, though Sister Gemheart's tight-lipped expression suggested it was far from resolved. Starcarver guided me away from the group.

  “Vanguard,” I said, trying to keep my tone properly respectful. “I want to thank you for giving me this opportunity.”

  “And so you should. I plucked you from obscurity,” he said, his voice dropping so only I could hear. “And I can return you to it just as easily.” The warmth in his smile remained, but something cold and calculating flickered around his eyes.

  I felt my face slip into the neutral mask I'd worn for years. New world, new rules, but the same old game. On Enclave II, survival meant knowing exactly how much slack was left in your leash. Fine. I'd learn what he wanted, then provide just enough of it.

  “Sentinel sounds important,” I said, inclining my head slightly. “I'd like to understand what you need from me.”

  His lips curved in amusement. “It is an old role. Once, every Passage had a Sentinel. Someone who walks between worlds. Someone not fully of the Torchers, yet not an outsider either. One who notices what the initiated overlook. I think we shall re-introduce this practice.”

  I glanced at the Torchers watching us from across the hangar, radiating disapproval.

  “The others won't accept that,” I said. “They already think I don't belong.”

  “They'll accept what I tell them to accept.” His fingers dug firmly into my shoulder. “Just as you will accept your role without question. Remember, there is nowhere for you to go. No world that will welcome you. Only the path I provide.”

  I nodded carefully. “So I'm to be your outsider's eyes. But what exactly am I looking for on this world?”

  “You will watch. You will observe what this world reveals, especially what it hides from those who think they know what to look for.” His eyes gleamed. “We Torchers walk worlds to learn our lessons, but sometimes we become blind to the very truths we seek. You, with your untrained eye, will see what we cannot.”

  “And if I don't see anything special?”

  His expression hardened. “Then your Passage will be very brief indeed. Kabus is not kind to those who refuse to hear its voice.” He released my shoulder, the benevolent smile returning. “Now rest. Tomorrow, we begin our Passage into Kabus, and you, Sixflame, will help us hear its voice, or suffer the consequences of silence.”

  As I watched him go, I weighed my options. Stay and play along with whatever sentinel meant, or try to escape... but to where? I didn't know this moon, had no idea how to pilot whatever craft they used here, and even if I managed to steal one, I had nowhere to go. No coordinates for safe harbor, no contacts, no credit. For someone who'd never left Enclave II before, the universe was impossibly vast and entirely hostile.