Fire Sacrifice

by David J Normoyle

  Jo smiled sweetly up at him. “That’s a surprise,” she said.

  For once, Walker was lost for words, and it was Corinne who spoke. “She must have sabotaged another part of the device.” Her voice squeaked.

  “There’s no cause for alarm,” Sergeant Taylor said. “We’ll get it fixed in no time at all.”

  Half a dozen scientists in white lab coats, including Corinne, quickly descended on the device, beginning their examinations.

  Jo frowned, watching them. She hadn’t been given full access to the Device, so she had only been able to exact minor alterations. One, she had made relatively obvious. She hadn’t expected Corinne to step forward with the solution to it, but she wasn’t surprised someone had. The other alteration she had been careful to keep secret, but it wouldn’t delay them for long.

  “I’m glad you thought to appreciate scientists in your lovely speech,” Jo told Walker. “It warmed my heart, I can tell you.”

  Before Walker had a chance to reply, the whole room’s attention was diverted by a man running down the far stairs, shouting. His words were lost in the crowd noise. Only when he reached the ground floor was Jo able to recognize him as Jeroah and hear him properly.

  “Get back. Get back from this wall. Now!”

  He was running along a wall near the entrance. Some of the crowd began to move away from the wall, but the majority of those close to him merely stared in stunned silence. It was only when he shoved a few people that he managed to get some movement. Then the roar of a deep-throated engine rushed upon them, and screams rang out. Those who Jeroah had been shouting at in vain broke out into a panicked run just as the wall exploded with chunks of masonry toppling inward.

  The lights went out.

  The wall was far enough away from Jo that she wasn’t in direct danger, but a surge of movement from the crowd around her, threw her to the ground. She coughed, and struggled to rise.

  “Jo, come to me.” For some strange reason, the voice, though not loud, sounded crystal clear in her ears despite all the mindless panicked shouting all about her. It was Alex. She focused her vision in his direction until she could make him out in the darkness and smoke. “Hold on; I’ll free you.”

  “No, don’t,” Alex said. “Listen to me, Jo. I understand how this device works.”

  “You understand it?” Jo climbed over the railing and into the Dawnsday Device to stand beside him. “How? You don’t know the science behind it.”

  “When Walker pulled the lever, I felt the magic flow through me. I sensed what the machine was trying to do. Jo, it’s terrible. It’ll kill so many.”

  “That’s why I have to get you away before it can be fixed and used.”

  “What about doing it cleanly instead?” What about breaking the connection to Brimstone without killing all those people on Earth?”

  “Is that possible?”

  Alex nodded. “I believe so.”

  Jo grabbed Alex’s arm. “Tell me exactly what you know.”

  “Jo,” Alex said urgently, and Jo realized she was squeezing his arm too tightly, and she immediately released it.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  “A bit light-headed.”

  “Stay with me.” Jo pulled her notebook from her pocket and angled it toward the bit of light getting through, preparing to take notes. “Alex, help me figure out how to fix this.” She disliked that, after all her study, the knowledge she needed was coming to her magically rather than scientifically, but she’d take what she could get. Tuning out the chaotic shouting all around her, she focused on what Alex had to tell her.

  Chapter 14

  Monday 19:05

  The world was swaying around me, and a horn blasted my ears. In the far distance, people screamed. I touched my hand to my temple, and it came away bloody. Persia was on the seat opposite me, limbs twisted, unmoving.

  “No,” I said. “Not you too.” I stretched out for her but couldn’t reach. As I came away from the steering wheel, though, the horn’s screech ended. I still hadn’t figured out where I was and what was happening, but shards of memory had begun to flash through my mind: guards sprinting out of the way; gates tearing open in front of me; yellow sparks flying in the night air; the windshield splintering; a dark imposing wall coming up fast upon me; closing my eyes, clenching the steering wheel, and pressing on the accelerator.

  “Persia!” I cried, returning to the present. She still hadn’t moved. When I reached for her again, I realized that my seatbelt was holding me in place. As I fumbled with the clasp, the final pieces of my memory clicked into place. Persia and I had deliberately crashed into City Hall, aiming to stop Walker from activating the Dawnsday Device. Even wearing seatbelts, we had both been injured, though I was healing fast.

  The passenger door opened, and Beacon Sulle climbed in. “She’s okay,” he told me.

  He arched his leg over Persia’s body and slid himself into the seat between the two of us.

  “How do you know?” I asked.

  “I can see she’s breathing,” Beacon Sulle said. “She’s just knocked out. She’ll wake.”

  I finally managed to unclasp my seatbelt. I leaned past Sulle to touch Persia’s shoulder. She stirred and gave a moan.

  “See, I told you she’s okay,” Sulle said.

  “What are you doing here?” Dust shimmered in front of me, obscuring my vision of what was happening inside. My ears were still ringing. Large blocks of masonry had fallen across the hood of the truck.

  “Where else would I be?” Sulle asked. “All my life has been leading up to this moment.”

  “All your life? We only just decided to crash the truck into City Hall several hours ago.”

  “All my life,” Sulle repeated. “As a boy growing up, I prayed for deliverance. And to my surprise, someone answered. But there’s always a cost, you know.” His voice took on a wistful tone. “The piper always has to be paid at the end.”

  “What are you talking about?” I asked, though I could guess at part of it. The one who answered had to have been Uro, and Sulle had made a Faustian deal with the devil. “Are you sure Persia is okay?” I reached past him to grab hold of Persia’s arm. I gave it a little shake. She stirred slightly, responding to my touch.

  “See, she’s okay,” Sulle said, though he didn’t look at her. “She’ll survive if you are willing to do what it takes to save her.”

  “What it takes?”

  “This stunt with the truck will buy you some time. But what happens when Walker and his shadiers regroup? Can you defeat them all with a pair of fireswords?”

  “I’ll do my best.” The nose of the truck had broken through the wall. I could see a part of the entrance hall beyond.

  “What if that isn’t enough? What if your best isn’t enough to win? Are you prepared to die? Are you prepared to let her die?”

  Persia gave another moan. Hot fear lanced my guts. “I’m willing to die protecting her. I will save her if it means cutting through a thousand Walkers.”

  “Those are empty words.” Sulle scoffed. “You don’t have any kind of plan to defeat one Walker, never mind a thousand. You shouldn’t have rejected Uro’s help.”

  “I didn’t reject him,” I said. Not explicitly, at least. Just as I hadn’t explicitly accepted him as my master.

  “You need him now,” Sulle said. “You have to know this. Only Uro has the power that will allow him to defeat Walker and stop the Dawnsday Device from being activated. Just as my life has been leading up to this moment, so has yours. You were chosen for this. You have to summon your magic.”

  “It’s not really my magic anymore. It’s his magic.” Each time I’d used it, the magic had grown in power and in wildness. I hadn’t meant to kill Holliday.

  “True, it’s his magic. Sulle climbed back over Persia, moving for the door. “But it’s your choice whether to summon it or not.” Just as he reached the other side of Persia, his arm pistoned violently.

  Persia’s back arched, her body com
ing to life with a massive spasm. She screamed.

  My mind, numbed with shock, took a moment to process what had happened. The flash of silver metal. Sulle’s hand striking Persia. He’d stabbed her. I threw myself at Sulle, hitting him hard in the face. He dropped bonelessly, disappearing into the darkness outside the cab of the truck.

  “Persia, are you okay?” Persia’s body was shaking violently, and I wrapped my arms around her. Her body felt cold, and I willed my heat into her.

  “What happened?” she asked.

  I released her. “Richard Sulle stabbed you.”

  “Why?”

  “To force me to use magic.”

  “Don’t do it,” Persia said. “Don’t give in.”

  “It doesn’t have to mean anything,” I said.

  “I wasn’t stabbed for no reason.” Persia’s face was pale but bright, somehow lit up while all around us was dark.

  She was right, of course. When I accepted Uro’s help in defeating the dragon, Duffy, I had been able to convince myself that it was a once off. It didn’t work like that. There was always a cost. Sulle himself had told me that moments ago, just before he stabbed Persia. Always a cost.

  I lifted the bottom of her shirt. Blood—black in the dim light—stained her stomach. “I can’t just let you die.” A hospital wouldn’t save her, even if I could magically transport her to one in the middle of a battle.

  “It’s okay,” Persia said. “Taking up the fight means being prepared to die for it. Prepared for death or worse.” By worse, I knew she meant watching her husband killed. Killed, then having someone else walk around in his body.

  My cheeks were wet with tears. Persia had expressed the hope that love could make it easier for me to reject Uro. Instead, Uro was using love to manipulate me. I had never healed anyone before, but I had experienced superhuman healing, so I was confident. I placed my palm on her midriff. “Healing you is in my power. I must do it.” I wasn’t strong enough not to.

  “I am just one person,” Persia said. “The world is at stake. You broke free of his spell once. Will you get a second chance?”

  I had no idea what the consequences of using magic right now would be, but Uro desperately wanted to use magic, and I feared what that meant.

  Another voice broke through my thoughts. A memory. “Those with great power must be able to make great decisions, perhaps even great and terrible decisions without being influenced by coarse personal emotion.” Walker’s voice. Walker’s sentiments.

  “No,” I said. Love was not a coarse emotion. Soldiers followed orders, but they also prided themselves in leaving no man behind. I made my decision and summoned magic.

  Chapter 15

  Monday 19:25

  My head flew backward, hitting the headrest, and a blood-curling scream was wrenched from my throat. A torrent of fire tore through me. My body became a writhing volcano of pain.

  I barely had any control of my body, but I managed to move one trembling hand toward Persia and touch her arm. I sensed the life pulsing through her: the heart pumping, blood circulating, lungs expanding and contracting, nerve ends sparking. A human body: so complicated and intricate and wonderful and perfect.

  Except, it wasn’t perfect. Far from it. The left lung was filling with blood, one section of the small intestine was severed, several other vital parts were lacerated.

  No, I didn’t want it like that.

  And it all changed. Blood stopped seeping into her lungs, and it began draining out instead. The walls of her intestines knitted together, becoming whole again. The two edges of the wound sought each other, her skin joining back together without even a scar. All it took was the merest exertion of will—a twitch of my little finger—and all the wrongness was reversed. For the briefest moment, I felt like a god.

  Then my body spasmed and, once more, I was nothing, less than nothing; I was a tiny leaf floating on a raging river of heat and light. I had to desperately hold onto the impression of myself just to stop my essence from being washed away.

  The power flowed out of me like a giant waterfall, plummeting down into the darkness below. I had no idea where the magic was going until Sulle rose up before me, his body limp, his limbs jerking like a marionette on strings. His eyes opened, white, unseeing, as the power seared into him.

  “Sulle?” I said.

  “No longer,” His voice was different, deeper. “I am Beacon.” He collapsed back into the darkness, though I didn’t hear a landing thud. The torrent of magic ended, and I lay back, spent.

  I felt a shake on my shoulder and turned to see Persia looking down at me with wide eyes. “What just happened?”

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Pretty good.” Her hand touched her shirt, and her fingers came away bloody. “Surprisingly good.” She looked up at me. “How? You?”

  I nodded. “I know you didn’t want me to. But I couldn’t not help you.”

  “And the consequences?”

  “I’m not certain.” I looked to the open passenger door and into the night beyond. I saw no sign of Sulle—or Uro or Beacon or whatever he was. “But it won’t be good. We should get out of here.” I opened the driver-side door and lowered myself out onto the step, and from there to the ground. I turned and raised my hand to help Persia. She ignored it, putting both hands on the seat and lowering herself onto the step. When she tried another step downward, though, her standing leg buckled, and she fell backward.

  I caught her. “You’re still w—”

  “Watch out!” Persia called out.

  I half-turned, and upon seeing a flash of red light, I shoved Persia behind me and raised my left hand, summoning a firesword. A fireball crashed against the sword, flames exploding backward and away from me. In the red light, I saw the shadier who was attacking—it appeared to be only one. At the same time, Jeroah was approaching us from a different direction. Shielding Persia away from the attacking shadier, I raced toward Jeroah. Another fireball sped my way, but I managed to outpace it, and it crashed against the engine of the truck. The truck began to burn. I climbed over several blocks of fallen masonry until I found a sheltered nook. Gently placing Persia on the ground, I summoned both fireswords, preparing to block any further attacks.

  Jeroah joined us a moment later. “What happened to you? Why didn’t you enter immediately after the truck broke the wall?”

  “Unavoidably delayed.”

  “City Hall was briefly in chaos,” Jeroah said. “But Walker has now rallied the shadiers, and our opportunity has passed.”

  “What about Jo and Alex?” I asked.

  “The Dawnsday Device is in the center of the atrium in City Hall. Alex is inside the Device, and Jo is close.

  “Then I have to go back. I can’t leave them behind.”

  “I’ll help.” Persia attempted to rise.

  I put my hand on her shoulder. “No.”

  Jeroah touched her torso and raised bloody fingers. “What happened?”

  “She’s still weak, but she’ll be fine,” I looked at Jeroah. “Can you get her to safety?”

  Jeroah nodded.

  “I want to help,” Persia said.

  “Right now, the only way to help me is by keeping yourself safe,” I told her.

  Chapter 16

  Monday 19:40

  The truck was blazing—long flames reached high into the sky sending sparks shooting across the night sky. I approached, ignoring the heat beating at me. Beyond the truck, through the gap in the wall, the lights of the City Hall atrium were shadowed by thick drafts of smoke. In the gaps between the smoke-clouds, I glimpsed a line of shadiers waiting. I didn’t hesitate. Stepping through the gap in the wall, I summoned both fireswords and raised them before me. I envisioned a firestorm of magic greeting me, and when that didn’t happen, I felt almost disappointed

  The shadiers were lined up, their hands in front of them, ready to use their powers, and I let one firesword fall to the side, watching them. Sergeant Taylor stood in the center of the line.
Fear hung heavy in the air. It took me a moment to realize that they weren’t facing me; it was Sulle, standing ten paces to my left, who had their full attention. It was Sulle who terrified them. Except it wasn’t Sulle who stood there, not truly. His body was still present, just surrounded by a swirl of flame. The features of his face hadn’t changed, but his skin glowed orange and red. He had once been Richard Sulle before adopting a new name; now even Beacon Sulle was no more, for this monster which called itself Beacon had taken his place.

  The line of shadiers shifted backward as Beacon approached. “What in the holy hell are we facing?” one of the shadiers exclaimed.

  “Hold steady,” Sergeant Taylor ordered.

  One shadier, unable to contain himself, released a fireball. It struck Beacon, but the only effect was that the swirling flame around him temporarily brightened.

  “I said hold!” Sergeant Taylor shouted.

  Beacon continued forward as if the line of attackers opposite him didn’t exist or were of absolutely zero concern.

  “Everyone together now,” Sergeant Taylor said. “Three. Two. One. FIRE.” He clasped his hands together and thrust them forward, creating fire and propelling it forward, and to either side of him the other shadiers matched his actions. Dozens of fireballs flew through the air. Beacon opened his arms wide, welcoming the incoming firestorm. The fireballs crashed into him, exploding upwards and outwards, creating a localized inferno that burned hot and fast. I staggered backward, the massive wave of heat forcing me away.

  Once the smoke and flame had cleared, Beacon was still standing, untouched. His lips curved upward in a smile of disdain. He lazily raised an arm, and a thick beam of flame launched from his fist. A shadier summoned a fireshield, but Beacon’s beam tore through the shield as if it wasn’t there, incinerating the shadier behind it.