Like a Torrent

by Olivette Devaux

  “No,” Ash said. “Move, so I don’t cut you!”

  Cut after cut, slicing the air in all directions, Ash pulled at the river, at the clouds. He struggled for every available water molecule to manifest, catalyzed by his sword into being just when and where he needed it.

  More streams of water, more angry hisses. Steam roiled, snake-like and redolent of sulfur.

  The twins were holding hands and chanting, eyes closed. Their power was for a back-up. If they could only transform their thunder and lightning into water – but they couldn’t.

  Ash’s katana whirled in a deadly dance of flashing steel, and as he gained his rhythm, water began to form a steady stream that appeared to flow out of the sharp of his blade.

  To his right, past Cooper, Ash caught a flash of Ellen and her sweeping, air-summoning gestures.

  Yes. They needed all the elements, and her wind would not breathe life into a fire that was locked in a lode of molten rock.

  Their eyes met. He nodded. She redoubled her effort, and suddenly the steamy sauna wasn’t as oppressive. Ash could breathe easier again.

  Water and Air against Earth and Fire. So much fire – and Ash knew with dire certainty that he couldn’t hold out for much longer. His physical strength would last, but not his ability to focus and keep the water flowing.

  An elegant arc of droplets sprayed them all. What a waste. If he could only aim it – deliver it.

  Like an injection.

  In a sudden flash of inspiration, he yelled at the twins. “Back me up!”

  Ash ran up to the stone, Mark and Paul at his heels.

  He whirled the sword overhead, his focus turned within. His core, the energy center that let him do all this, was attuned to his command.

  Growing, spinning, waiting.

  Growing – and more – and...

  Ash switched his grip and sank, driving the razor-sharp blade through the thin, stone crust. Still focused on water, the faucets of his power jammed open with sheer will.

  Life poured out of him like a torrent, water spouting into the rock as though from a fire hose.

  Steam hissed, and the oppressive heat of basaltic lava scorched his skin.

  He turned away, protecting his face, yet he kept that water pouring like a torrent.

  Arms grabbed his shoulders, two on each side. Mark and Paul, pushing their power into him, making him just a conduit for whatever they had to offer.

  The gates were open.

  The water had to flow.

  The earth had to heal, and the others had to survive, and... the water... had... to... flow...

  COOPER CRAWLED ON his hands and knees, not daring to stand. The pull of the node was too much, yet he still needed to get closer. He had a plan... a new plan.

  The whole node was too much.

  It would’ve consumed Hank, or him – and now it threatened to suck Ash’s life force dry. Any one of them stood defenseless against it. Mark and Paul were helping some, but even so, with their power-signatures matched to the same resonant frequency, Cooper felt Ash’s life gush out like through a cut artery.

  The node wouldn’t claim Ash’s life. It couldn’t – Cooper wouldn’t permit it.

  And if it did, then he’d go down along with Ash.

  CHAPTER 15

  The ground was hot under his hands and knees, and Cooper’s eyes were blinded by the hot steam that rolled out in great, billowing clouds. He saw the node in his mind’s eye, though. A great, pulsing epicenter of fire and earth that didn’t belong on this quiet alluvial plane.

  A little volcano.

  As he crawled through the wet, wilted grass, a part of Cooper’s mind recalled his horror at having caused an earthquake all those months ago. And now, somebody else did even worse. This wasn’t his doing, but he’d fix it, and then he’d hunt down whatever sonovabitch dared to put half the city in peril. Cooper glanced up. A silhouette of Ash and the twins stood stark against the sky – and Ash had plunged his sword into the magma.

  That sword was now toast, but the water still kept pouring out, and as Cooper sent a ping of inquiry in Ash’s direction, he knew Ash would soon be fried to a crisp as well.

  But that would come later.

  Now, Cooper would crawl.

  A booming explosion knocked him on his back.

  Ash screamed, and so had Mark.

  Cooper scrambled to his feet. Ash was sprawled on his back, the twins were regaining their bearings.

  What used to be a basaltic outcropping was a crater now. All that water turned to steam, and that steam had built up, and had to go somewhere.

  The ground-stone burned through the protective wreath of grape vines that Ash had fashioned for him. Cooper ripped it off his neck.

  He took a few hurried steps to the crater. Steam spewed, and the reek of sulfur spelled the dark danger of volcanic gasses.

  He’d stop all that – he had to stop it now.

  Or so he hoped.

  The ground-stone’s glow was visible even now, in the daylight.

  Cooper tossed it, aiming at the crater.

  A tug – and a remnant of charred silk cord was all that was left in his hand.

  “Good,” Jared said next to him. “I see it working!”

  Cooper had no idea what was going on anymore. His senses, both regular and the inner vision granted by his talent, were on overload. His head hurt so much, he thought it would split.

  “It needs more.” Jared’s whisper drifted to him as though across a distance of miles, not inches. “More power.”

  Except Jared only saw power. He couldn’t manipulate it.

  But Cooper could. And he would.

  He extended his hand, dropped his mind to his center, and called on the last reserves available to him.

  “Ash!” Jared’s alarm wouldn’t stop Cooper from killing this anomaly. If he only had a bit more...

  Jared’s hand landed on his shoulder, and to his surprise, he felt power flow through him. New power, an energy of a different harmonic than he’d ever experienced before. A wild, disjointed flow that could only come from someone inexperienced.

  “I can see it,” Jared gasped. “It’s working!”

  Cooper aimed all he had at the place where the ground-stone dropped into the crater. He couldn’t see it, but he still felt its pulse in his veins. He felt its protective shield spread across the node while it grew thin and fragile, like glass. Like a gossamer wing –

  Jared saw it too. “More!” he yelled, and as Cooper redoubled his effort, he felt the wild energy flow sputter in wild peaks and valleys as it poured out of Jared’s being.

  “Jared, no!” Suddenly, Jared’s unexpected effort became all too clear.

  “I can see it. It’s the only way.”

  He didn’t feel Jared next to him anymore. The fog swirled, and the hand that had been gripping Cooper’s shoulder just a moment ago loosened and melted away.

  He didn’t dare turn and look.

  He had to keep feeding the ground-stone, strengthening the shield, and...

  “I believe I can.” Jared’s whisper was like the caress of the wind itself.

  The shield stabilized and darkened, suddenly opaque and strong. Or cool... but was that even possible?

  Cooper tried to push more power through, but the shield now encompassed the ground-stone as well. Whatever he had been trying to affect was now locked away under a layer of smooth, black glass.

  “Jared?” Slowly, Cooper turned. He expected to see Jared’s slumped form on the ground.

  There was nothing.

  “Jared!” His shout was a cry of pained anguish and despair.

  Ash stirred on the ground, then stumbled to his feet. “Cooper,” he said unsteadily. “Cooper, I’m so sorry.”

  Cooper shook his head, ignoring the pulses of excruciating pain that gripped his temples and made his stomach turn.

  Jared, his favorite cousin, his playmate of many adventures, was gone without a trace.

  THE BLAST HAD knocked Ash
ass over tea-kettle, but he still kept the power flowing. His sword was still down there, in the crater, pulsing with the power connection Ash had built up over several years of frequent use.

  He tried not to think of what it had to look like now. Swords had their own spirit, and that spirit was linked to his own even now, at this critical moment. They still had work to do.

  Slowly, Ash raised himself, moving with care in order to maintain the invisible connection.

  Still pumping water.

  He didn’t know how long he could keep it up. Yet another thing he tried not to think about.

  Cooper stumbled out of the fog, grasping what looked a lot like his ground-stone, but it was now glowing with volcanic heat.

  When Cooper flung it into the crater, a whoosh of relief swept over Ash. Yes! That might work. Instead of shielding the person, they could shield the node.

  When Cooper began to pump his power into the ground stone, Ash knew they would both stay behind.

  Somehow, in the back of his mind, Ash was aware that he would die today. There was no other way – an entire person’s worth of energy was needed to take the edge off the rogue node, which would allow Hank and the others to soothe it to a permanently manageable level.

  He didn’t mind dying if it meant Cooper would live.

  Except Cooper was doing much the same thing. That wasn’t the deal Ash had been working for, but at this moment, he had to focus on that one thing only he could do: balance fire with water.

  If Cooper perished, the loss of one so young and sweet and talented as Cooper would leave the world a lesser place. Resolved to prevent this, Ash had his own sacrifice to finalize. He’d drain his reserves, fry his ability to focus, he’d throw every bit of water at this piece of Earth that so badly needed healing. Then he’d join his sword in the pit.

  His last thoughts he’d reserve for Cooper, whose power now began to ebb.

  Then Jared stepped up. A game-changer, a seer who could not do, but now... now he did, and Ash felt the jagged edges of his inexperienced power flow.

  Jagged and raw, but strong.

  Maybe they all still stood a chance of both victory and survival.

  And then it all happened too fast, and Jared poured himself into the shields so thoroughly, there was no trace of him whatsoever.

  Only Cooper stood there, with his arm still outstretched. It took him a moment to realize that things had changed.

  The shield would hold up, but at what cost?

  Cooper’s cry of grief tore at Ash’s heart, and when he crumpled to the cooked grass underfoot, Ash rolled over to his belly and scrambled to his hands and knees. Carefully, gently, he herded what remained of his own energies and coaxed them back to his core. Then he slowly stood up and took stock of the situation.

  “Ellen?” Ash called out.

  “Here,” she sounded back through the fog. “It’s changed, hasn’t it?” Soon, Ash saw her diminutive form as she picked her way over the uneven footing that was still obscured by the fog.

  “More to your left – there’s a hole in the ground on our right side.” And heaven forbid she’d fall in.

  She looked down on Cooper, who was out. Then her tired gaze drifted up to Ash’s eyes. “Jared?”

  “Gone. Did you feel anything?”

  She shook her head, then winced in pain. “Later, okay? Where’s Hank?”

  “Here,” Hank whispered. He emerged from the fog to Ash’s left, pale-faced and stricken. “Jared’s gone.”

  “I know,” Ash said. Saying he was sorry was profoundly inadequate, so he bit his tongue and peered into the milky whiteness. “Paul? Mark?”

  “Yeah. Right here, boss.”

  They seemed drained, but in one piece otherwise. “Thank you. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

  “You almost dematerialized, man,” Mark said quietly. “Don’t do that, okay?”

  “I did what?” Ash stammered.

  “You almost did what Jared managed to do,” Ellen said gently. “Let’s not talk about it here. Can we leave now? Can Cooper walk?”

  Cooper could, but didn’t feel motivated to do so. “I want to stay here, with Jared,” he said through his tears. “I want to, oh, God. I want to talk to him just one more time.”

  Ash sank to the ground next to Cooper, wincing as his knees hit the sharp shards of exploded basaltic rock. He chose to ignore it for now.

  “Cooper,” he whispered, as he snuggled in behind Cooper’s back and wrapped a protective arm around his shoulders. “I’m so sorry.”

  Cooper only shook his head. His back shuddered with a sob he didn’t bother to suppress. It tore at Ash, this failure to protect his team. This loss – his first loss, during his first effort to work with others, instead of taking all the risks alone.

  Silence settled around them, just as the unease in his mind kept roiling like a simmering pot. He took some comfort in the heaviness of his own arm slung over Cooper in a protective embrace, while the others stood between them and the rest of the world like an honor guard.

  CHAPTER 16

  “You two can stay at my place,” Hank said gruffly as he supported Ash on their way across the broken ground. Tufts of grass and weeds were harder to see at dusk, with the sky dark overhead and heavy with water-laden clouds. Not even a glimmer of sunset lit up the western silhouette of Pittsburgh on the other side of the river, and despite the uncertain footing, Ash was grateful for the soothing dusk.

  Behind him, muffled voices carried on the remnants of the fog as Paul and Mark hauled Cooper on a stretcher improvised of left-over construction lumber and an old blanket.

  “Come on,” Ellen called from the street. “The coast is clear!”

  Ash wanted to get away from here, from this place of death and destruction. His instinct told him to flee across the river, to the safe, small apartment with a basement bathtub and a big-enough mattress sprawled on the floor.

  Cooper’s place.

  A safe place, free of strong ley lines or rogue nodes, and unspoiled by the bitter taste of defeat. At least Cooper was out for the count. This way, he’d be spared the worst of his back-lash headache, and his mourning for Jared could be postponed by a day or two.

  Poor Jared, the flirty, funny, sweet cousin who saw that which was hidden to the ordinary eye, yet couldn’t even nudge the flows of power around him. Ash wasn’t sure what had happened in the end, or how Jared managed to get out all that energy that had been contained within him and merge it with the shields that now hid what was left of the node.

  He’d have given a fortune to have Jared’s insight right now, because even though he didn’t feel the thrum of the node anymore and didn’t feel the hum of the ley lines, Ash wasn’t sure whether they had failed, or succeeded.

  “Lift your feet, or I’ll have to carry you,” Hank said.

  Ash blinked. They were inside his place, with the bedroom upstairs. “Oh.” He turned. “Bathroom first.”

  Hank let him go. Ash stumbled, bare feet gripping the polished wooden floor – when did someone take his shoes off? – and barged through the recycled antique door, where he tended to his need. After he washed his hands and face, he made the mistake of looking into the mirror.

  He barely recognized himself. An empty-eyed stranger peered at him, a man with sallow skin and circles under his eyes, wild-haired, and in obvious pain.

  He turned away. This wasn’t the time for introspection. He needed to sleep this off, and when he was done, he’d tend to Cooper.

  “Is there any reishi?” His own voice was that of a broken stranger.

  Hank nodded. “Yeah, my mom gave me a batch. How much do you usually take?”

  “This isn’t the time for a normal dosage,” Ash whispered.

  “That’s right,” Hank echoed his sentiment. “This isn’t the time for normal anything.” He pulled a large bottle out of the dark cupboard and poured a small shot glass. “Here, knock this back.”

  Ash did. The flavor took him by surprise. Woody, and
... and sweet, but not from sugar. “Diff’rent,” he mumbled before he downed the glass of water Hank pressed into his hand.

  “Come on,” Hank prodded him. “You need to sleep.”

  Minutes later, Ash was in Hank’s bed, stripped to his boxers and covered in blankets. The room was dark and quiet. A random thought flitted through Ash’s mind, telling him he would’ve expected to hear at least a bit of traffic from Butler Street up the hill, or the occasional honking of a car from the 40th Street Bridge.

  He let the soothing darkness claim him.

  THE BLARING OF an ambulance nearby woke Ash up. He held still, knowing from experience not to make any sudden movements until he was sure of himself. The room Hank put him in was still dark, which was good for Ash’s backlash headache.

  Darn, he’d hoped he would wake up refreshed and pain-free. It seemed the backlash was proportionate to his exertion level, however, so he settled back and took a deep, patient breath.

  He wanted to know what time it was behind the shut blackout curtains. He needed to see how Cooper was doing. An urge to go back to the crater gripped him.

  The crater.

  Did he really manage to blow the whole thing up? He’d need a confirmation on that, because the images in his mind were likely a product of a hot and hazy dream world and not a record of something that had taken place in reality. Or, in the reality as he knew it.

  When Ash heard the microwave beep downstairs, he was relieved that he wasn’t alone in the house The thought of company gave him the impetus to get out of bed. A shower and a change into too-large clothes later, courtesy of Hank’s workout wardrobe, Ash was in the downstairs dining room while Hank served him a lunch of a previously frozen egg and ham bagel sandwich.

  He ate it.

  He drank the coffee and the water, and he downed a somewhat smaller dose of reishi, and then he looked at Hank with as much life as he could summon. “Thank you.”

  Those were his first words, and he had never meant them more sincerely. “And, I’m sorry I fucked up,” Ash continued. He meant those words, too.

  Hank settled his considerable bulk in a chair diagonally from him, and after he swallowed a bite of his apple, he tilted his head. “Why? How was anything your fault?”