“Right, the tree,” I said, shaking my head as I struggled to keep track of all the changes that just happened. “The Monarch… he’s gone now, right?”
Part of me felt bad for not paying more attention to his death. But the sapling suddenly rustled in front of me.
“Mostly,” the noise of the leaves created a word. “Much of myself has passed on. I will now grow into something new. Something greater.” The leaves kept rustling. “You have given me more potential, Lord Earthborn. I thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” I answered. “But I have no idea what I just did.”
“I am Woadfather no longer,” the tree answered. “I am a Kingtree.”
“A what?”
“By binding with your fairy familiar and your blood, I have become linked to your authority. As it grows, I will grow. And as I grow, your health, spirit, and kingdom will flourish in turn. This power will be passed on to all of your bloodline as well, including those still growing within my boughs. Including all you have claimed as kin.”
Val started at that, looking at herself and flexing her fingers.
“He’s right,” she whispered. “I feel it. I feel different. Better, even.”
Virtus and the Testifiers all made startled nods as well, apparently examining their own Statuses. I got the impression their growth was not as pronounced, but since they were technically my subjects (I think) they would all get some benefit from the Kingtree as well.
“What about you, Wes?” Val asked me. “Do you feel any different?”
I did, actually.
Heavier.
Overwhelmed.
Defeated.
But those feelings were ridiculous. I wrestled with them, tried to force them back out of my mind, but they pounded back at my mind.
Failure, something said to me. You lost part of something great. You murdered a mother and stole her children. You have lost far more than you have gained. And it is all your fault.
Something rumbled again.
You have failed, Earthborn, the voices said.
Your skies are too low.
Your heavens, too heavy.
Your angered gods, far too great.
My vision went black.
CHAPTER TWELVE: POWER AND FEAR
He has returned, a voice said in the blackness. Why has he returned?
I thought he was exterminated, a second voice remarked. Did the measures fail?
They are old, the third voice grumbled. No doubt they have weakened over the years.
The blackness faded, and I looked up.
There was a bronze sky over me. I could see it, but it felt as if it were pressing down directly over my head. I had to bend my knees to avoid being crushed. When I looked down I saw the shadows of three old men standing over me, though I could not see the figures themselves anywhere.
Unacceptable, the first voice spat. We spent far too many resources for the measures to ever fail. I told you all it was not enough. I told everyone it was not enough!
You did, the second voice admitted grudgingly. Which was why we spent all we deemed we could afford.
And now everyone is gone, the third voice cautioned. We crippled his kind too early. We still needed them just a little longer.
It was worth it! the first voice snapped, and the weight over me suddenly doubled. At least we kept this much! Better to lose all of those worlds than let them always have their way! Otherwise we would have lost everything in truth!
My feet sank into the rusty ground. My back bent under the weight of the bronze sky.
At least the measures have not failed completely, the second voice pointed out. If they had failed for good he would not be in this space.
It will be enough eventually, the third voice pointed out. Look at his mind. Whole Earthborn were always the problem. This one is broken inside.
He still has all of the warning signs of a rebel king, the first voice spat. He gathers others to himself. Shelters the weak of other races. Shields those he has no business shielding. Such foolishness is always a concern. We cannot let his kind end another golden age!
I still say he will break himself, the third voice insisted. He is alone. Those he gathers are weak as well. He cannot protect them all forever. One day he will try, and then fail, and then die. Was that not what brought his people down to begin with?
But what if he does not fail? the first voice hissed. What if this time it works?
Then we will descend upon him and stop him for good, the third voice declared. But not before.
Agreed, the second voice muttered. Paying such costs at this time is unnecessary. Especially given his number of enemies.
Fine, the first voice grumbled. But know that seeing him crawl this high is disgusting.
Relax, the second one hissed. This is as far as he goes.
The one he seeks has been already been promised to another, the most jealous of them all. As soon as the Earthborn gets in the way of his claim, the thing will tear him apart far more thoroughly than we could on our own, the third voice said with a grave nod.
Stell, I realized. They are talking about Stell.
“Promised?” I growled out, fighting against the pressure.
Can he hear us? the first voice whispered.
Does it matter? the second one asked with a shrug.
“Did you,” I growled as my back strained. “Promise Stell… to Cavus?” My teeth clenched so hard they scratched at my gums. “Did you promise her… to that… thing?”
Oh look, the second voice chuckled. An Earthborn thinks he can look down on something else.
Don’t be too hard on the vermin, the third one said pityingly. It’s not like they are capable of realizing just how much is above their own heads.
True, the first one said. Their skies are too low…
Their heavens are too heavy… the second droned.
And the gods they’ve angered are all too great, the last one declared in a solemn and angry voice.
Wrong, a quiet voice said inside of me. They are all wrong.
Realization dawned on me.
The heaviness was not over my head.
It was inside my chest.
The same old voice I had been hearing all along.
You can’t do it.
You’re too broken.
I growled, grabbing hold of that heaviness with my mind. As I did so, my own hands latched into the bronze sky above my back, my fingers stabbing cracks into the false expanse.
“Let me say it again!” I shouted. The three frightened old men hissed and sucked in their breath.
“This is not my sky!” My fingers dug in deeper. My voice grew louder.
“These are not my heavens!” The bronze-cast weight shuddered as my voice echoed off of it. The cracks from my fingers widened into spidery webs.
“And you are not my gods!” My voice came out in a roar. The false heaven groaned as it became an earthquake over my head.
My mind and arms flexed in unison as I lifted, and pushed.
#
Request for monitoring detected. Checking authorization now. Recognizing Draconic-Level Imprint. Authorization granted for Wes Malcolm. Access granted to current monitoring log regarding Chris Rhodes.
Chris’ perspective
I told myself I wasn’t sweating. I wasn’t nervous. I wasn’t worried about being watched. Then I tried hard to think about something else.
The feed had been hacked, I reminded myself. I could think about that. In fact, that was a positive thing.
Dad found out four days ago. After he found out the team in Avalon had all died and come back with a nervous breakdown. He asked for the logs. We had linked a video system to Wes via the device we had implanted in his brain to cripple him. It let us monitor his emotional state and every now and then we got actual video feed. Somehow, they had formed a monitoring system out of that same feed that we were able to project onto all of his important people here on Earth. I snuck a glance at the records for that system, and since it did
n’t make a lick of scientific sense it was probably created from that curse-magic Dad’s people had always wielded here on Earth. That’s my best guess.
At any rate, the feed had been hacked and Dad’s people had lost access to it.
Which meant no one was watching me as I drove up to the Malcolms’ house. At least no one who was going to shoot me on the spot.
Scratch that. Mrs. Malcolm just might feel like shooting me if she found out my connections to the people who murdered her husband and crippled her son.
Maybe she didn’t own a gun.
One more left turn and I was in front of their house. I saw two cars in the driveway, and swore.
Wes’ sister wasn’t supposed to be in. If all went well, they read the note and were heading to the address I left. If not, I might be able to go get them. I didn’t know. It was a bad plan and I couldn’t think of a better one.
But the point was that the second car didn’t belong to the Malcolms. It belonged to the Browns. Specifically Davelon’s father, a senior investigator on the force. One of the only senior officers Dad didn’t have completely under his thumb.
I swore one more time, smacked the steering wheel of my own car, then inhaled deeply. It didn’t matter. Davelon’s mom and dad were people Wes would want me to save anyway. They’d be a resource for Dad to use against him. Holding them hostage would give Dad’s people an advantage in the fight against Wes.
And if Dad ever managed to put Wes down for good, he’d have more time to evaluate whether or not he still needed to keep his own son alive, since he was going to be immortal now and could make as many children as he wanted. Children he could better control, instead of his rebellious firstborn that balked at being his personal henchman.
I still, to this day, didn’t know what had happened to my biological mother. But seeing Dad smile smugly whenever I asked told me that if he could get rid of her and still sleep well, he could get rid of me just as casually.
If I was ever going to kill my dad, I needed Wes Malcolm alive and on my side. And he already had plenty of reason to hate me so I couldn’t let any more of his family die. And unfortunately the Browns were the only people that still stood by the Malcolms, so Wes would count them as family too. So I needed to start seeing this as a two birds, one stone thing.
The only problem was that I still hadn’t left the car yet. I swore again and finally opened the vehicle door. Wonder if Wes over-thinks as much as this, I wondered idly as I walked up their yard. Bet it would be really aggravating to hear his thoughts all the time.
There was a large window to the right of their front door, giving a view of the house’s kitchen table. I saw Davelon’s mom sitting in her wheelchair next to Stephanie Malcolm with a mug in her hand. That explained it. She had wanted to come by and check on her friend who was now dealing with the loss of her only son, two years after her husband ‘committing suicide’—the death and lie courtesy of my father—but since Mrs. Brown had been crippled ever since her own accident—also courtesy of my father—she had needed her husband to drive her over. And since he had a sneaking suspicion that John Malcolm’s suicide and Wes’ attack on his therapist were both bullshit, he was probably staying inside to try and protect the rest of the Malcolms from whoever was targeting them.
Fuck. I was procrastinating again. I walked up to the door and gave it three hard raps.
“Just a minute,” I heard a voice call out. Then I heard the women whisper in confusion.
“I’ll get it,” a deep voice said from the living room. That would be Davelon’s dad.
But that was okay. Because I wasn’t really nervous.
The door opened. A large, dark-skinned man wearing a suit with a gun in his belt answered it.
“Chris Rhodes?” Thomas Brown’s eyes were already narrowed. “What are you doing here?”
It was that moment when the carefully rehearsed speech in my mind suddenly vanished into white nothingness.
Come with me if you want to live popped up instead. And god help me, I almost went with it.
“I found out what happened,” I finally said. “I figured I’d come by.”
“That’s nice,” Davelon’s dad replied. He was almost as big as his son, and his son was a giant. One of the only football players I met that was taller than me and Wes. “Did your dad send you?” the powerful, suspicious man asked. Because he was smart enough to suspect that my own dad was involved in some way with what was going on.
“Dad doesn’t know I’m here and if he ever learns that I came by I’m going to disappear too,” I said in my best “fuck it” voice. “I didn’t say that I heard about what happened, Mr. Brown. I said I found out. Please don’t reach for your gun yet.”
That may have been the wrong thing to say, judging by the way the man tensed.
“Men are coming,” I pressed on, reminding myself that my time off Earth had made me stronger and faster and that I could probably subdue this man if I had to. Probably. “I don’t know when. Maybe not even today. But they know you’re tired of being threatened and that they can’t really control you, so they’re going to tie up the loose end that is your family. And probably Wes’ family too. I need to get you all somewhere safe.”
To his credit, the detective in front of me didn’t even flinch.
“This is a trick,” he growled. “You expect me to believe that Warren would let you come over here in broad daylight and spill all his secrets.”
“No,” I answered. I’m not nervous, I repeated to myself. “But Wes is alive, and I need to get you all at least close to him.”
From the doorway view to the kitchen, I saw Stephanie Malcolm’s head swivel and lock onto my own.
“You’re lying,” Thomas Brown growled again. “Why would you care about any of us? I know what kind of man you are, son. You can’t fool me like everyone else.”
“No I can’t,” I retorted. “This is a stupid, desperate plan and I don’t have anything better. But Malcolm will hunt me down if I let anyone else of his get taken. You know the three girls are missing too, right?”
“What?” The detective’s nostrils flared at that. He didn’t know. That was something kept even more under wraps.
“So’s that Gabby girl. Dad’s people took them. I can get you to them or close to them. But you’re the next loose end, and our safest bet is to leave in broad daylight when they’re not able to act as easily.”
I heard a car drive down a nearby street. It sounded like it might have been a large van. A moment later, I could tell Davelon’s dad heard the vehicle too.
“Shit,” I swore. “We need to leave now, or we’re all fucked. You can arrest me for providing false information, but you know that even if you contact the department instead, none of them will stand by you. They’ll turn you in to Dad, because he has a better handle on them than you. So come on. You either stay here and get captured or escape and help Mrs. Malcolm find her lost son. What’ll it be?”
Detective Brown gave me an angry glare, and I felt defeated. He still didn’t believe me and I didn’t blame him.
But a moment later the phone in his pocket beeped. So did the phone in Mrs. Malcolm’s purse.
I saw Mr. Brown’s eyes widen as he read the text, and Wes’ mom started shouting her son’s name after reading her own message.
“Only Wes and John knew that about me,” the tall man mumbled in surprise.
“Alive!” Stephanie Malcolm suddenly stammered. “My son is alive.”
The detective locked eyes with me again. I had no idea who had just sent that text but I knew it had brought him around.
“Fine. Let me get my wife. I swear if this is a trick I will make you regret it, Rhodes.”
“Fair enough,” I replied, dashing inside.
They grabbed a handful of items and headed for my car. Fortunately I had just gotten an SUV from one of the football team’s boosters, so the vehicle was both roomy enough and probably not bugged. Fucking probably.
Everyone had just gotten int
o the car when the large gray van pulled up. So much for broad daylight being a difference maker.
I started the car, but I wasn’t fast enough. A large man in a plumber’s uniform that bulged in a suspicious number of places stepped out of the van. I heard Thomas Brown hiss and shuffle. He was probably going for his own gun.
As more large men exited the van, the plumber with all the gun bulges in his uniform looked directly at my window. I saw his eyes widen in recognition, tinted glass be damned, and his lips mouthed my name as his head cocked in confusion. The other hitmen apparently saw their targets through the other windows in my car, and began to reach for their own weapons.
Unauthorized contact persisting, a mechanical voice said in my ear. Terminate now?
Affirmative, Wes Malcolm’s voice sounded in my ear, and I nearly leaped out of the car in surprise. Terminate the offending unit. Ensure the safety of monitored subjects and allow them to evacuate.
I couldn’t help it. I panicked.
“Malcolm?” I shouted. “The fuck?”
A powerful crack sounded out, and the lead fake plumber suddenly slumped against the car, eyes still wide, forehead suddenly very red.
Sup, Chris, Cock-Blocker said to me directly. We’re probably gonna have to talk later, unfortunately, but right now? GTFO. Please.
The man that had just been shot in the forehead with a high-powered rifle growled and wiped his sleeve across his face. He pulled himself off of the car, and more loud cracks sounded. His chest spasmed multiple times and he slumped back against the van door.
More gunshots began to sound out at and from the van’s team, but I was done gawking stupidly. I slammed my SUV into the proper gear and barreled out of the neighborhood as fast as I could, ignoring the screams and angry shouts from the passenger side of the car.
I had no idea how Wes could talk directly to me and I didn’t have time to figure it out. I kept my foot on the accelerator and barreled to the rendezvous point I had given all his friends.
#
The next breath, I was back on Avalon. Everyone around me was blinking rapidly.
“Um, Wes?” Breena asked, flying next to me and looking worried. “Do you know what just happened?”
Woad Children (Challenger's Call Book 3) Page 23
