The Legends of Forever
Page 20
“But now . . .” she went on. “Now, well . . . We’ve been to tomorrow. And we’ve been beyond tomorrow.”
“We’re now the Legends of Forever,” Superman said. “And we’re going to heal the damage the Time Trapper did to the Multiverse. And, Iris, I swear on the memory of Krypton: If there is a way to find Barry and bring him back, we will find it.”
Iris sniffled and dabbed at her tears. “Thank you.”
“But there is one more thing.” Superman hesitated and gazed meaningfully at Cisco. “Do you want to tell her, or should I?”
Iris glared at Cisco, who ran his hands through his hair, tugging at the ends. “Oh man. Are you sure? Do you think so?”
“What?” Iris asked. “What else could there possibly be?”
“We have reason to believe that the Time Trapper sent an agent back through history,” Superman said.
“Hypothetical dominium . . .” Cisco shivered at the memory.
“An agent?” Iris asked. “Why?”
“According to what Cisco gleaned, to take revenge if he were to be defeated. We believe this agent will target you first, Iris.”
Iris laughed without mirth. “Of course.”
“But we have an answer. The Legion has established a . . . well, for lack of a better word, a safe era. It’s like a safe house, but a whole time period. Where the Trapper’s agent can’t see or go. We can take you there and keep you safe until we track it down.”
“Like a witness protection program,” Cisco breathed.
“Something like that,” Sara said. “How about it, Iris? You up for living in the future for a little while?”
Iris drew in a deep breath. “It doesn’t seem like I have much of a choice, do I?”
“Do it,” Caitlin urged her. “Stay safe. We’ll be waiting for you when you can come back.”
“Yeah,” said Cisco. “We’ll keep the lights on, coordinate with Team Arrow to keep the mad science going.” He shrugged. “And Wally will keep the speedster flame alive in Central.”
Iris chewed at her lower lip. “Can I have some time to say goodbye to some people?” she asked.
Sara chuckled and gestured to her Time Courier. “We have a time machine. Take as long as you need.”
65
Madame Xanadu strode down the hallway at S.T.A.R. Labs, turned at a certain door, opened it, and stepped through into another dimension.
Whorls of color spun around her. The door to S.T.A.R. Labs and Earth vanished.
A moment later, she heard the impossible sound of measured footsteps where there was no floor. Her associate, he who wore the fedora and the cloak and the medallion, known to humankind only as the Phantom Stranger, approached her and spoke with neither introduction nor preamble.
“It is resolved. Though not in the way we anticipated.”
“No? Barry Allen saved the Multiverses.”
“At what cost? Time has realigned. The future is in tumult.”
Madame Xanadu smiled. “Ah, but at least there is a future, my friend.”
He raised a finger to chide her, but before he could speak a word, she said, “If such as we cannot call each other friend, then who can?”
Miffed but also mollified, he offered a small shrug. “What now? What of Barry Allen? Do you truly believe this reality has no further use for him?”
Madame Xanadu sighed, then smiled. “He has run far and fast. He has earned his rest. And at long last, he now can finally stop running . . . and slow down.”
EPILOGUE
From her balcony, Iris watched the sun rise over the city of Metropolis in the mid-thirtieth century. Even with weather control technology, the night still often left her the slick surprise of dew on the balcony rail each morning.
Something in the dew spoke to her. She thought of Barry when she ran her fingers along it, drawing a lightning bolt or spelling his name. He would have understood the how and the why of dew.
She touched her belly. She wasn’t showing (not yet), but thirtieth-century medical technology had already told her that the babies she was carrying—fraternal twins—were healthy and on track to deliver normally in thirty-three weeks.
Barry’s last legacy. His children.
The sun broke through the clouds. Morning dawned and she thought again, as she so often did, of the newspaper in the Time Vault, of the headline that had once caused dread and despair but that now—through the vagaries of paradox—gave her hope.
FLASH REAPPEARS DURING CRISIS! the headline now proclaimed.
She sketched another lightning bolt next to the one she’d already drawn in the dew. Twin bolts. In the first glorious bright light of a new day, it occurred to her: Dawn, she thought, would be the perfect name for Barry’s daughter.
Yes. Dawn.
And the boy?
Well, she’d think of something.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Hello, dear reader! We’ve made it to the End of All Time and back together, and I am so grateful that you took this trip with me.
I offer my gratitude to the folks at Warner Bros. and The CW who made this madcap story possible, especially Carl Ogawa, Amy Weingartner, Victoria Selover, and Josh Anderson, but also to Greg Berlanti, Todd Helbing, Sarah Schechter, Lindsay Kiesel, Janice Aquilar-Herrero, Catherine Shin, Thomas Zellers, and Kristin Chin. I asked for the moon and the stars, and they said, “Why think so small?”
A big thanks is also due to Russ Busse, my editor, who absorbed the craziness with aplomb and who got me to change my original ending without even asking me to. Your Jedi mind tricks are strong, Russ . . .
And thanks, too, to the rest of the hardworking crew at Abrams—including but not limited to Andrew Smith, Kara Sargent, Jody Mosley, Maggie Lehrman, Chad Beckerman, Evangelos Vasilakis, Marie Oishi, John Passaineau, Alison Gervais, Melanie Chang, Maya Bradford, Kim Lauber, Trish McNamara O’Neil, Brooke Shearouse, Borana Greku, and Liz Fithian.
My thanks as well to Shawn M. Moll, who saw us through to the end with an amazing cover.
Lastly, I would run the length of the universe for my wife and kids. You are my lightning and chemicals.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
BARRY LYGA is the author of the New York Times bestselling I Hunt Killers series and many other critically acclaimed middle-grade and young adult novels. A self-proclaimed Flash fanatic, Barry lives and podcasts near New York City with his family. Find him online at barrylyga.com.
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