“It will not be easy for my people either,” Vincent admitted. “I understand your stress. I wish I could promise you that I will take care of this—but obviously, if I failed in the future, there is the chance that I may not make it this time. But foreknowledge changes everything.”
“I can’t lose you,” Rose said firmly. “I need to destroy the thing before you even have a chance to go near it.”
Vincent smiled. “Don’t let concern for me cloud your judgment and make you behave irrationally. Nyssa has informed me that Pax and Amara did not enter the vector zone in her timeline—that is already a crucial advantage. I will be counting heavily on Pax’s teleportation skill for this battle. She is the only deva alive who is able to perform that technique—she is indispensible.”
“There are already differences apparent in the two timelines?” Rose asked in confusion, tilting her head back to look up at her husband.
Vincent nodded. “Whenever someone travels to the past, events become skewed. In Nyssa’s timeline, Pax agreed to marry Thorn and did not feel the need to travel to the Pseudosphere. Instead, she stayed in this realm—and well, that’s why there was an apocalypse.”
“So you’re saying the fate of the world rested on that one decision?” Rose asked with a frown. “On that one small decision made by one small girl—influenced by so many fluid factors…”
“I’m saying that you should relax a little bit, darling. Our chances for success are already exponentially greater than they were in the past of the future.”
Rose smiled. Somehow, her husband’s crazy talk about alternate realities which should have given her a headache was soothing compared to looking at Kalgren Tech’s financials. “But we may lose a grandson,” Rose added. “If Nyssa’s boyfriend is Pax’s son, then he may never be born. Is that the equivalent of him being killed? Can we kill someone who has not yet been born?”
“Don’t worry about that,” Vincent said. “The girl respects me more than her own father—and with good reason. I will exercise many tactics of manipulation in order to ensure the conception of our grandson once this battle is over.”
“Please do, Vince—and it has to be soon enough that he can still be Nyssa’s boyfriend. They can’t be too far apart in age,” Rose added. She suddenly exhaled. “I do feel better about all this. Thank you for coming to reassure me, love.”
Vincent squeezed her upper arms. “So it’s all settled then. The world will be saved. Will you come to bed?”
“You!” Rose glowered at him and swiveled in her chair to lightly smack him in the arm. “Is everything you say meant to distract me? I’m still going to do my part in this. I’m still going to find the money—come hell or high water, I am going to find that money and send those spaceships. I won’t sit idly by and let you have all the glory, especially when I know you could fail.”
“That’s the biggest drawback of your technology,” Vincent remarked. “It is too dependent upon your human financial constraints. Deva powers and magick are dependent upon the natural energy of the universe, and thus are unlimited and far superior.”
“A very complicated way of saying ‘money sucks.’”
“My poor wife,” Vincent said, placing his hands on the arms of her chair. He leaned forward, kissing her lightly on the lips. “Don’t worry—we may be dirt broke, but at least we have each other.”
“Vince!” Rose said, laughing.
“We’ve been through a lot together,” Vincent mused. “Apocalypses aren’t anything new. But financial difficulties? That’s different. It’s kind of exciting.”
“You’re making fun of my first world problems,” Rose accused with a smile. She actually had lost perspective for a moment. “It’s not exactly financial difficulties if I can’t access billions of dollars of my own money because it’s tied up in the company. But I do need to access it…”
“And even if you could,” Vincent said, “if you mortgaged the compound, and if you mortgaged every facility and factory across the country, and if you sold…”
“Oh, god!” she moaned, tilting her head back in horror. “I can’t think about this. The debt would bury me. The massive debt—it would take years…”
“Relax. Shhh, Rose, relax.”
“No, no. Vince, you don’t understand—I’m one of the wealthiest women in the world. And I promised that girl I could do this, but if I dedicate myself to this cause—I could lose everything. The money. The figures. I’ve been working with the best case scenario figures all night, and it’s… possible. It’s possible, but it will bankrupt me. And I thought I was past the struggling point of my life. I’m retired, Vince! I have only returned to the helm of my company for a single day to sort things out, and in that one day I could sink everything it took me a lifetime to build. Everything my ancestors spend their lifetimes building before me.”
“Rose…”
“Do you know what it’s like to find out that your whole empire is a sham?” Rose said softly. “To find out that you thought you had more than you ever needed, and suddenly it’s not enough?”
“Darling, you are forgetting all about your largest resource,” Vincent said, gently taking both of her hands. He lifted them to his lips to place a kiss on her knuckles, a wicked glint in his eye. “I can just work some magick on your various accounts and change the numbers…”
“You can’t just create money! It has to come from somewhere! I have never asked you for help in my life.”
“Where would you prefer for it to come from? I can have people die and leave you everything in their wills, along with their life insurance policies. I can re-locate oil from somewhere on the planet and deposit it in land you own, and you can ‘discover’ and sell it. Money is easy. You name it, love. Whatever you wish.”
“Vince,” Rose said disapprovingly. “I want to earn this myself.”
“Why?” he asked with a growl.
“I didn’t marry a god because I wanted his help in my petty matters. I married a god to spend every day proving to him that even though I was just a human woman, I was his equal. I wanted to show you that my science is just as good as your magick. And if I accept your help, then I’ll fail.”
“I thought you married me because I was great in bed.”
“Well, that too.”
“It amuses me that you call the funds you require to stop the apocalypse ‘petty,’” Vincent remarked. “What did any of these humans do to earn your protection? What did they do to deserve their lives? Let me tell you something, Rose—the old gods were not merciful. They did not care about human matters. If this comet was a natural event, and not an act of war by an enemy meant to weaken us—I would let it happen. Humans have to earn the right to live by fighting for their lives in the face of adversity, just like every other organism. Our duty is to ourselves and our family—not to everyone else.”
“I don’t agree with you,” she said simply, swiveling back around in her chair. “Go to bed and let me work.”
“Rose…”
She was staring at the computer monitors again. “Nyssa suffered so much to come back in time and specifically ask us for help. It’s our task to tackle. The comet needs to be dealt with far away from the planet; it takes time to get way out there, and we don’t have time. Time and money—I need to find a way. It’s breaking my brain. I promised that poor girl—but even if the board of directors knew, even if I could present them with the information, they would say that it wasn’t my responsibility…”
“It’s not. You’re not responsible for this country, Rose.”
Her head jerked up. “No. I’m responsible for the whole world.”
He swiveled her chair back around, and before she had even realized what was happening, he had effortlessly lifted her into his arms. “What a strange woman you are. Why do you say this?”
“Well, for one thing,” she responded, leaning against his chest, “every single person has a responsibility to this planet to take care of it for future generations—so they can ex
perience the wonders of life just like we did, and even better. For another thing, I’m married to you, and you’re this herculean, supreme being. If I seem really intent on doing this, and make a huge competition out if it, you will feel guilty and rise to the challenge of trying to beat me. Maybe you will beat me, maybe not, but ultimately my involvement will motivate you to get off your lazy ass and use your power for good. For the good of mankind, even though you profess not to care about us.”
“So I’m the one being manipulated here?” Vincent asked as he carried the sleepy, rambling woman out of the room.
“Of course,” Rose said with a yawn. “Just so you know, in a few days I will have four unmanned rockets ready to go. I’m going to stuff them full of nukes and send them on a collision course with this comet. As soon as I get word of the comet’s location, money for fuel, and permission to launch… well, I guess permission isn’t a big deal at this point. Government can eat me.”
“All of your efforts to carefully design these spaceships and purchase this fuel—and you don’t get anything back? Everything gets destroyed?”
“Yes,” she responded in a drowsy tone. “I could attach cameras to the rockets and sell the photos of the explosion, so at least there’s that.”
“Maybe we could have Pax send your bombs up there. Save the fuel money,” Vincent suggested.
“Wow. Her talents are worth billions of dollars, and my son left her for some floozy,” Rose mused. “That’s actually a really great idea.”
“See, working together isn’t so terrible. You with all your bombs and spaceships, woman; you’re forgetting one important thing.”
“What’s that, Vince?”
He kicked open a doorway as he carried her through the empty halls of the building. “With the tip of my finger, I can create a nuclear explosion, wiping out this entire city in a manner of seconds. Given time to concentrate, a bit of light reading, the proper diet, exercise, and sleeping pattern, I could manage far more. I realize this may sound arrogant, but that is only because I am unapologetically, shamelessly arrogant. I’m the biggest nuke you’ve got. So come to bed with me.”
Chapter 16: Letters in Smoke
Pseudosphere, Month Forty
It has been roughly a year since I last spoke to Amara. I have been meditating, practicing, training and growing stronger every single day from the moment I wake up to the moment I collapse, but I have not been able to make any progress with breaking the fjuyen sphere. I have traveled all over the surface looking for a weak spot, and I have tried to teleport inside the dome, but nothing is working. I am completely lost and I have given up. I can hardly believe that it has been over a year since we entered Room Five. This has easily been the worst trial so far—and there isn’t even any constant pain or danger. It’s just nothingness—it’s just this indestructible ball. I hate the waiting—I hate being unable to change the state of affairs.
I don’t know what to do. I just want to go home.
Pax had no pen or paper. She sat cross-legged, using her telekinesis to write the words in black smoke, shaping it into small lettering against the bright fjuyen crystal for contrast. She felt the desperate need to sit down and write to sort her thoughts down, as she often did—and this would have to suffice. When she was at the end of her rope, and could think of nothing new to try, this was what she did to ease her mind and refresh her creativity. She just needed a few more minutes of this—a few minutes of creating letters in smoke, and she would momentarily return to her physical trial. She would try everything until she succeeded.
I have made great progress in Silver Form, for what it’s worth. I can continually maintain the transformation for a whole week. I’ve gotten really strong, but I can’t wrap my head around the puzzle of the globe. It’s driving me crazy. I hope Amara is okay. I can sense her life force, but I can’t determine whether she is healthy or happy or well. I suppose she knows exactly how I am and what I’m doing with her long-range telepathy. Good for her.
I hope you are enjoying the loneliness, bitch. I hope you are happy with your decision to forsake me. But that’s what you Kalgrens do, isn’t it? You forsake and trample the people you love so you can save your own skin.
It’s my own fault—after Thorn hurt me, I shouldn’t have agreed to ally with someone who was his own flesh and blood. That was a stupid decision. I should have known that I would only get hurt again. But I forgive both of them. I love both of them. I miss Thorn more than I can possibly describe with smoke.
I’ll give this another year, and if I can’t find a way to leave this room, I will give up. The failure is devastating. If I keep failing, then I’ll stop writing in smoke, and I’ll use my own blood.
* * *
It was hard to stay angry at someone when you were all alone with them and there was no other biological being, human or otherwise in the realm. It was especially hard when that person had been your best friend for your entire existence—someone you admired and loved, even if she was often terrifying. Yet it was much easier than one might expect when that person was an insensitive, power-hungry, fire-goddess who considered her own death only mildly inconvenient.
There could be no greater rift between even the best of friends than for them to pull in such opposite directions. One desired to push past pain to strength, the other desired to feel secure and to avoid danger. Amara had needed to get away from Pax in order to feel safe.
So then, why was she so bored with her so-called safety? Hundreds of times over the previous year, Amara had considered going to her friend and apologizing. She knew that Pax never would—Pax was not even considering such a thing, and Amara paid very close attention to her friend’s thoughts. The dark-haired young deva’s single-mindedness was unshakeable, but so far, fruitless.
Amara had used her mind to watch from afar as Pax grew stronger and stronger every day. She felt jealous of her friend. Jealous of how productive Pax was being in her solitude. Her power was increasing massively with her newfound anger and determination, while Amara did not know what to do with herself. She mostly slept, and when she wasn’t sleeping, she lounged about uselessly. Sleeping was the best, because she often dreamed of home. If she could not be strong enough to get home, at least she could escape and pretend to be there.
But part of her believed she could be strong enough. Part of her wanted to feel the hormone rush of training. She even... wanted to feel the power of Golden Form again. The hardest part was admitting that. Admitting that she’d been wrong, and afraid. Admitting that she’d clutched her human side desperately, not sure if she was ready to accept that primal, petrifying side of her she had fought so hard to repress since birth.
Most of all, she missed being Para. Not only was she going through training-withdrawal, but she also had to suffer through the withdrawal of losing half of her body. It physically hurt! She had spent years previous to their fight being Para at least once a day. This enhanced how much her pride stung after her breakdown and Pax’s callous reaction. And there was Pax, widening the gap between their abilities which had finally begun to narrow. Pax used every second to attain more control and skill, leaving Amara in the wake of her success again.
She almost hoped that Pax couldn’t achieve Golden Form on her own, because then she would no longer be needed. Every time she felt an unusual energy spike from Pax she freaked out and imagined Pax had transformed without her. Amara felt useless. She had tried to meditate or train on her own a few times, but she had been too embarrassed about performing techniques wrong. She needed Pax’s guidance. She didn’t want to need it, but she did.
She thought of Asher, and how he had said that the vector zone would be too much for her. She didn’t want him to be correct, but it felt like all she had done since she entered the room was prove him right. She knew that if she could push past her fears and let her body experience the power which was her birthright... well, she’d emerge from the room a completely different Amara than Asher had ever known. She’d show him; she just had to.<
br />
Even though she knew that he hadn’t left her because she hadn’t been good enough, or because she'd done something wrong... she still felt a need to achieve successes he could never have imagined, just to rub it in his face. And maybe... maybe if he saw that she wasn’t just a spoiled princess, and that she was a warrior too... maybe he’d realize that they were meant to be together. But she would have to actually train to accomplish all of that.
She told herself that it was futile because Pax was only working on conditioning a body that would deteriorate in a few decades anyway. But she knew this wasn’t completely true.
* * *
Pax had remained in Silver Form for over a week, trying to crack the fjuyen globe. Once she had exhausted herself, she had lain on her side and curled up, falling asleep. After several refreshing hours, she awoke with a start, feeling an energy signal close to her. Her face froze as she recognized the life force, but she could not believe what she was sensing. When she felt a hand rest comfortably on her hip, she did not want to turn around to see who it was, for if it was just her imagination, she would have cried.
When the hand began to slide up and down her thigh, in a familiar, soothing motion, she closed her eyes tightly. She was going to cry anyway. “Thorn,” she whispered.
“You were gone too long. I was getting worried.” These words were spoken against the back of her neck, and she could feel his warm breath and smell his fresh cologne. His arm circled her abdomen, as he hugged her tightly against him. “I couldn’t let you have this huge adventure without me, could I, Paxie?”
She was sobbing softly, grasping his arm to assure herself of his presence. “This isn’t a dream? You’re here. You’re really here. How?”
“It wasn’t easy to sneak in, I’ll tell you that. But I needed to get to you, so I found a way.”
“Please don’t disappear,” she murmured, digging her nails into his forearm. “Please don’t be an apparition. I need you so badly right now.”
Thirty Minutes to Heartbreak Box Set (Books 1-3) Page 43
