Persia parked the station wagon. “That place?” she asked, indicating the diner on the other side of the street.
It looked even grimier than I remembered. “Maybe we should go somewhere else.”
“It’ll do,” Persia said. “All I want is something to eat and some time outside the motel.”
Inside was crowded, but a booth by the door was free, so Persia slid in there. I sat opposite. “I guess life goes on,” Persia said, turning around. “This place is almost standing room only.”
“It wasn’t all my fault, you—” I hesitated, unsure of what to say. I wanted to tell Persia that Beacon had been controlling me these last few months, but I wasn’t sure that was true. The dragon, Duffy, had been able to control people with an iron fist while Beacon’s control had been more subtle—I couldn’t tell how much of what I had done was because of his magic and how much were my own choices. Was it Beacon who wanted Holliday dead, or was it me? “I guess I came good in the end,” I said, finishing an argument that had been unsaid.
I waited for a response, but Persia remained turned in her seat; I wasn’t sure she had even heard me. “What’s going on?” she asked.
I stood up from my seat. From there, I could see that everyone’s attention was drawn to the television. Even the servers had stopped their work, watching the screen where Beacon Sulle, wearing a suit and standing in front of a podium, was giving a press conference. No, I told myself. That wasn’t Beacon Sulle. Richard Sulle was dead. That was just Beacon. With or without the fire magic, it was the fire elemental known as Uro come to Earth. Beacon.
I left the booth and pushed my way through the crowd until I could hear what was being said. Persia followed in my wake, then continued further into the diner as she was shorter than me and she needed to step around a group of tall men to get a good view.
The last time I’d been here, it had been me who was on screen, back when Konstance had declared me a hero. Is that why I had decided to return to this diner? Some unconscious part of my brain wanting to remember a time when some had considered me worthy. I massaged the lifeless flesh of my right hand and glared at Beacon.
He stood on the steps of the badly damaged City Hall. “The battle for our city and country is over,” he was saying. “Walker attempted to divide us, and he failed. I’m here to tell you that we will rise from the ashes of this damaged city stronger than ever. And I have more good news. The era of magic is over. Those who once feared shifters and shades and sentinels can rest easy. And as you all know, I was among those with power, among those at the heart of the storm that has raged in the country as a whole and this city in particular. While Walker was trying to solve the problems with war and death, I was leading a team solving them through science and technology.”
“Liar!” Persia shouted.
“Hush,” someone said.
“I’m happy to report that our efforts were completely successful,” Beacon continued. “Most of us who had the privilege of wielding magic used it for good, but we came to realize that the dangers were too great. Humans weren’t meant to wield such power. When the chance came to give it up, to return the world to how it had been before the advent of magic, I and those like me sacrificed our power gladly for the greater good. So magic is no more in this world.”
Listening to Beacon taking advantage of what Jo and Alex and I had accomplished in ridding the world of Brimstone magic was hard to stomach.
Beacon swept his arm wide to indicate the ruins of City Hall behind him. “We must rebuild, and we will rebuild. Lusteer will be stronger than ever.”
A cheer went up, and I looked around at the rapt faces watching Beacon. I remembered the scene less than a week ago when a similar crowd had been angrily opposed to Beacon Sulle. What had changed? From the mood of the crowd, Beacon, despite everything, was going to end up in power.
Still someone bad always seemed to end up in charge. What difference did it make if it was Beacon or some other corrupt politician?
Wait, what was I thinking? Beacon was the monster Uro who had been ready to kill us all a few days ago. And I had been thinking there was no difference between him and any other ruler Lusteer might have when, in fact, the previous mayor of Lusteer had been a good man. I moved forward through the crowd to Persia, and I leaned close to her ear. “We have to go. Now!”
“I want to hear this,” Persia said.
I gripped her by the arm. “No. We leave now.”
She tried to shake herself free. “You’re hurting me,” she said.
“Quiet!” someone nearby barked. Most, though, were ignoring us, transfixed by what Beacon was telling them.
“Think, Persia. Think of everything we know about Beacon, and look at the reaction of those watching. Think about your own reaction to him. Is it more favorable than it should be?”
Persia cursed under her breath. “You’re right.”
We left hurriedly. Outside, I sucked in deep breaths of cool air. I hadn’t realized how warm and claustrophobic it had gotten in there.
“What does this mean?” Persia asked.
“It’s not over,” I said. “The rest of us may have lost our magic, but Beacon hasn’t. Not all of it, at least. He may no longer have access to explosive firebeams, but he’s no less dangerous for it.”
Part II
Fire Sacrifice
Chapter 18
Tuesday 16:35
Jo upended the game board, sending the pieces flying throughout the room.
Jeroah, Persia, and I looked at her in shock. She was the calm and level-headed one—the last one we would have expected to lose her temper.
“What?” She returned our stares challengingly. “The stupid game is impossible to win. And I need some air.” She yanked open the motel room door.
“Don’t go too far,” I said.
Her only answer was to slam the door shut behind her. Alex, lying down on the far bed, giggled. “We broke Jo.”
“It’s not funny,” I said. “If Jo can’t hold it together, what hope is there for the rest of us.”
“Not much hope,” Jeroah said with a smirk. “Not much hope at all.”
I scowled at him and bit back a reply. Trust Jeroah to escalate every comment. He was all edges, making it impossible not to rub against him the wrong way. For the last three weeks, the five of us had lived in the cramped confines of two connected motel rooms, and I generally managed to avoid bickering with him, but it always took effort.
“I swear these motel rooms get smaller every day,” Persia said. “Even the patience of a saint wears off eventually.” She was suffering through the experience as much if not more than me, but with Beacon’s influence over the city growing, and no plan how to combat him, we all feared to leave.
Feared to leave, and worried about what was to happen to Alex. I glanced across at him. Even though he chose not to play himself, he liked to watch; a copy of the game instructions lay open on the bed beside him. He hadn’t managed to leave the bed once in the last three week. He may have gotten worse over that time, but it was hard to tell for sure; he certainly hadn’t improved. I had no idea how we could help him. Jo said that she had ideas about how to remove the summoning crystal from Alex’s body and occasionally spent long hours scribbling in a notebook. But Jo’s expertise was in using science to channel the power of Brimstone, and with the connection between Brimstone and Earth broken, I didn’t see what exactly she could do.
Persia bent down to pick up the board game pieces, and I helped her—one handed, of course. My useless lump of a right hand couldn’t pick up large simple objects such as bowls or cups, never mind the tiny little cubes of yellow, black, blue that made up the board game pieces. By now, I didn’t instinctively reach out with my right hand as a first reaction, so in that sense I had gotten used to my new handicap. In another sense, though, I would never get used to it. I had gone from effectively being a superhero—even though I had been one who seriously misused his powers—to being a cripple. I was as useless as my
right hand.
The board game we’d been playing was called Pandemic. It was a cooperative game in which all the players worked together as public health operatives trying to prevent the world-wide spread of an infectious disease. The five of us rarely left the motel, afraid that if we left our guard down we’d fall under Beacon’s spell like the rest of the city, but on the street where we bought groceries, I’d spotted several board games in a charity shop and thought they could make the time pass quicker by taking our minds off the situation we found ourselves in. Pandemic should have been an apt game because all the players had to work together to win, but every time we played, the disease infected the population before we had a chance to save the world.
Rather than helping us tidy up, Jeroah pushed the board aside, and lay down in its place on Jo’s bed, stretching out and putting his hands under his head. “It’s a stupid game,” he said.
“I didn’t realize it would be so difficult,” I said, picking several red pieces from the crack between two floorboards. Even in easy mode, the disease had thwarted our best efforts to quell it.
“Whoever heard of playing cooperatively,” Jeroah said. “I like to win and grind the bones of my opponents into the ground. Monopoly is good for that. A war of attrition in which every mistake is ruthlessly punished by savvy opponents.”
“I doubt you ever played Monopoly, never mind being a savvy player.” Jeroah had been inside my necklace for most of his existence on Earth. He thought he could make up for lack of accomplishment with an extravagance in boasting. “You could help us picking up the game, you know.”
“Why? Jo upturned it. She can clean up her own mess.” He gave a shrug. “Plus, wifey has it all in hand, I think.”
Persia body froze for an instant, then she resumed picking up the pieces. An eruption was going to occur, and I didn’t know whether Persia or I would break first. A rapping at the door caused all four of us to look up. Cleaning service only came in the morning, and supposedly no one knew where we were. “Who is it?” I called out.
“Open the door and you’ll find out,” a woman’s voice said. “I haven’t got all night.”
I recognized the voice—Harriet Ashley. She had previously been an ally, but I had no idea what she was doing at our door. Still, I had expected to be discovered sooner or later, and better her than Beacon. I looked to Persia, then Jeroah, then—after receiving no contrary instructions—I opened the door.
Harriet didn’t wait for an invitation; she walked straight in. “This place smells.”
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“I’ve stayed in worse though,” she said, looking around. Her focus paused on Alex. “You’ve been forgiven, have you?”
“Not by myself.”
“Nor by me. Nathan was a good friend of mine, and he died because of you.”
I shifted across to stand between Harriet and Alex. “Now’s not the time to be raking over ancient history.”
“It’s far from ancient,” Harriet said. “But it’s true that dealing with Beacon has to be the priority. Here.” She reached into her pocket, pulled out a piece of paper, and handed it to me.
I unfolded the paper to read an address and a time. “What’s this?”
“I’m ending Beacon’s reign tomorrow. You can join me. Or not. Your choice.”
“End it how?” I asked.
“Your choice.” She turned on her heel and left.
“How did you find us?” Jeroah called out after the still open door.
Chapter 19
Tuesday 16:50
For a moment, we all stared at the open door, stunned by Harriet Ashley’s whirlwind appearance. How was she going to end Beacon’s reign? What did she need us for?
Jo ran in. “I just saw her leaving. What did Harriet Ashley want?”
“It was you, wasn’t it?” Jeroah grabbed Jo’s forearm. “You told her where to find us, didn’t you?”
“Hey!” I grabbed Jeroah and yanked, meaning to throw him across the room. Instead, my hand lost its grip on his shoulder, serving merely to tear the collar of his T-shirt. Even my good hand wasn’t much good anymore.
Jeroah released Jo’s arm. He fingered his torn T-shirt, gave me a withering look, then he resumed shouting at Jo. “You didn’t just tell her where we were; you asked her to seek us out, didn’t you?”
“Of course I did!” Jo shouted back. “Are we going to hide in these motel rooms while Beacon grows in strength? We needed a kick up the behind to get us back into action.”
“You don’t get to make that choice for all of us,” Jeroah said. “For all you know, Ashley could have been corrupted by Beacon, and it’s his minions who were to come knocking on that door.”
“That didn’t happen.” Persia looked outside the door, checked both ways, then shut it with a decisive click. “Though if everyone shouts at the top of their voice, I’m sure Beacon won’t be long finding us. Calm down, Jeroah.”
Jeroah sullenly sat down on a bed.
“Jo, you shouldn’t have let anyone know of our location without having everyone agree,” Persia continued. “It’s done now though, so we’ll just move forward. What can you tell us about Ashley’s plan?”
“Nothing,” Jo said. “I didn’t know I was even getting in contact with Harriet Ashley originally. I just reached out to some of my contacts, looking for those who were planning to oppose Beacon. Through them, I learned that Harriet was returning to the city and managed to get word to her, offering help if she needed it.”
“What help exactly were you offering?” I asked. “What use are we? We no longer have any powers, any special skills. As a group, we are nothing but cripples and has-beens.” I looked around the room. “Jo is the foremost expert in Brimstone magic—which no longer exists in this world. Persia and I are ex-sentinels. Jeroah is a mix of an ex-elemental and an ex-sentinel. Alex…”
“Alex never was much anything,” Alex said quietly.
“Thanks, Rune, for shitting on everyone,” Persia said. “That’s always helpful.”
“It’s true though.” I shrugged. “True for me at least. Whatever I was before, I’m now a cripple and a has-been.”
“You haven’t lost your true superpowers, Rune,” Jeroah said. “Blaming others and feeling sorry for yourself.”
“I didn’t force Harriet to recruit us. I just reached out,” Jo said, getting her reply in fast before I had a chance to snap back at Jeroah. “We can’t be as useless as Rune thinks if she needs us.”
“She just needs fools for fodder,” Jeroah said. “If Ashley goes against Beacon, she and her men will be either killed or turned. And if she is turned, so much for our hiding place.”
“I’m sure you can find a new rat hole to hide in,” Jo said. “But I intend to act before it’s too late.”
“And what about Alex?” Jeroah asked. “Just going to leave him take care of himself when you get yourself killed?”
Jo flushed. “Alex, more than any of us, needs us to act. He won’t just magically get better.” She glanced across at him, then she blinked away tears. “Though I don’t yet know how, I’m going to save him. Whatever it takes.”
Persia stepped beside Jo and put a hand on her arm. “We’re all intent to help Alex when the opportunity arises. But Jo, your strength is in coordinating from behind the scenes. You can do that while staying here with Alex.” Jo opened her mouth to object, but Persia didn’t give her a chance. “Don’t go all action hero on me, Jo, you know what your strengths are, you know how you can best aid a team effort.”
Jeroah stood. “Action heroes are for Hollywood and for the magically-invulnerable. For the rest, those who charge against superior forces simply get plugged full of holes.”
“I’ve still got plenty fight in my body, and I’m not going to give up.” Persia looked at each of us in turn. “We’ve won battle after battle, and each time we have gotten closer to a final victory, but it’s all for nothing if Beacon isn’t stopped now. I’m joining whatever forces
are still wiling to fight him.”
“Winning battle after battle, but always losing,” I said. Each time, I lost another part of myself. “I’m not sure if I have any more to give.”
“Don’t second guess this, Rune. I’m going to fight with Ashley, and you are, too.”
“Persia, I simply—” I began, grasping for a way to explain how I was feeling.
“You have to keep fighting, Rune,” she said. “What else do you have?”
Persia’s reply felt like a blow to the gut, and I struggled to draw my next few breaths. What else did I have anymore except the fight against Beacon? What else did I know?
“You cut deeply, wifey,” Jeroah said. “I like it.”
Persia spun toward Jeroah. “And that’s the last time you will call be wifey.”
As Jeroah’s smile widened, Persia stepped forward and gave him a shove that sent him toppling over the corner of the bed. He landed on his ass, but the smirk never left his face. “I didn’t realize I was getting under your skin so much, wi… wi… witch.”
“Call me witch all you want or even something that rhymes with witch, I just never again want to hear any suggestion that we are married! And you are coming with Rune and me,” Persia declared, standing over Jeroah. “Noah would never have given up, and you have his body. There’s enough of him still in you.”
“I’m not him though.”
“Don’t worry, I’m painfully aware of that.”
“Painfully conflicted too, if I’m not mistaken,” Jeroah said. “My looks, my mannerisms, even my smell must remind you of him.”
Persia flushed. “I don’t want to talk about Noah. I want to talk about you going with us when we face Beacon.”
Jeroah clambered back to his feet. “No.”
“You owe me, Jeroah!” Persia said.
Fire Sacrifice Page 10
