There was a chain of small explosions across the demon’s chest. Chunks of plate were knocked off and fell to crush some of the screaming marchers below. Browning stopped shooting long enough to yell at her, “Fly, Faye!” Then he returned to blasting the demon.
“Mr. Garrett!” Faye hit the Virginia side running. Her ears were ringing from the cannon. “Where’s Dan?”
“Over here,” Dan Garrett shouted back. He came around the side of the abandoned house carrying a fat leather book. “Get me to Sullivan, quick.”
That she could certainly do, provided Mr. Sullivan was still alive. It took her two hops to get her head map close enough to find their Heavy. Not surprisingly, he was running along the Mall, between the craters created by monstrous footsteps, trying to catch up with the demon, which was now a few hundred yards ahead of them.
“Jake!” Mr. Garrett shouted, before he fell, dizzy, into the mud. Some folks just didn’t have the constitution to Travel well. “Over here!”
Sullivan slid to a halt, turned, and ran back to them. The Heavy looked like death warmed over. He was almost unrecognizable beneath the coating of dirt and blood. “What’ve you got?”
Dan had used a chunk of newspaper as a bookmark. He flipped the book open to show a complicated spell. “The Coordinator said this was the only antidemon spell he knew of in here. He’d learned it as insurance in case Crow ever got out of hand.”
The demon leapt high into the air to swing at a biplane. The landing shook the whole city and knocked most of them off their feet. “I’d say he’s out of hand now!” Faye exclaimed.
The demon had missed the biplane, and it was buzzing their way. Both mouths opened wide after it, revealing a swirling red light emanating from deep within the monster’s core. Sullivan bellowed, “Get down!”
The demon’s fiery breath streaked their way in a blazing wall of hot death. Faye’s mind was moving quickly, running complex calculations on instinct-the weight of her companions, the approach speed of the jet of flame, the distance her head map told her that she’d have to move all of them to be safe… In a tenth of a second she understood that she would only be able to move one of her friends in time and none of the other injured stragglers trapped beneath the fire.
But she was saved from having to choose at the last instant. The fire broke before them, rushing upward and away. It was a miracle they weren’t consumed. The air was unbearably hot, and Faye was forced to cover her face as the heat threatened to suck the moisture from her eyes.
Whisper stood some distance behind Sullivan, both palms open, as if she was shoving the fire away with her bare hands. Her hair was whipping wildly around her and her eyes were glowing with unnatural light. “Find your own tricks.” With a snarl of rage, Whisper pushed back, and the vast fire arced up and back, curled in on itself, forming into a huge cloud, which then raced back to strike the demon. It roared in confusion as it was engulfed. “Fire belongs to me!”
Whisper fell to her knees. The heat broke, leaving all of them dehydrated and red. Faye got up and ran to her. “You’re alive!”
“For the moment,” Whisper responded weakly. “What manner of beast is this?”
“It’s an old god from the Summoned’s world. It’s real bitter and wants to eat everybody on our planet…”
The demon had shrugged off the flames and was once again heading toward the Capitol. Explosions were rippling continuously across the creature as more military guns joined in. Some of those were coming from the mortar shells that Lance was tossing over the ruined museum. The searchlights could be seen beaming down from the aircraft carrier that had been patrolling over the city. It was maneuvering against the wind to use its main guns as well. A mass of panicked humanity was still in front of the monster, though, and it was doubtful anything would be able to save those people in time.
Sullivan took the spell book from Dan and started analyzing the page, dark eyes flying back and forth rapidly. The main writing looked like gibberish to Faye. Tightly packed notes had been scribbled in the margins, and luckily those were in English. “Yeah, I should be able to draw this… What’s it do?”
“It’s a shield of some kind. Summoned can’t get in, no matter how hard they try.”
Sullivan studied the demon for a moment. “Faye, get us in front of that thing.”
She took Sullivan first, dropping him off near where she’d left Mr. Browning, who was busy ordering young soldiers to hand up more heavy cans of ammunition. Since Mr. Sullivan was so unnaturally heavy, nearly twice what he looked like, she had to be extra careful when she picked a spot. Several soldiers and marchers leapt out of the way as Sullivan suddenly came barreling through them. Normally the sudden magical appearance of a mud-covered Heavy would have startled them more, but he was nothing compared to the spectacle of the oncoming god of demons. Sullivan had already opened up the book and was looking for a spot to work by the time she’d gone back for Whisper and Mr. Garrett.
Even with Mr. Garrett’s pudginess, the two of them together weighed less than Sullivan, so she took the both of them in one hop. She realized as she touched down that she probably wasn’t doing them any favors, since they had been on the west side of an eastbound demon, and now she’d dumped them right into the shadow of its next target.
“Dan! How big a shield does it make?” Sullivan asked as soon as they’d arrived.
“The more Power the creator puts into it, the bigger it should be.”
“Shit…” Sullivan muttered.
Faye knew right away what was wrong. Mr. Sullivan was by far the best of them at making spells. He just had an artist’s knack for it. However, he’d already burned his Power hard and there was no way he’d had time to recuperate. If you pushed too hard you risked killing yourself. The others hadn’t made that connection yet, but Sullivan caught her looking at him, and he just shook his head. He was going to do it anyway.
“I’ve got plenty of Power!” Faye exclaimed.
Sullivan held up the open book. “Could you bind this?” It was terribly complex. She was still struggling with the most basic communication spells, and there wasn’t normally a giant demon coming to kill her if she messed those up. Her hesitancy was obvious. “Didn’t think so. This one’s on me.”
Near them, a tank fired its main gun. The shock wave sent her reeling. Sullivan just hunched his shoulders and walked ahead of the line of military vehicles. Hundreds of soldiers had arrived, and they were going to hold this line or die trying. He picked an open spot of sidewalk and knelt down. People were still fleeing past, but the bodies parted around him like waves against a rock. Mr. Sullivan took a knife from his belt, used it to slice open the tip of one fingertip, and began to write on the sidewalk with his own blood.
The demon was charging toward them. There would be only one chance to get it right.
“Jake, what’re you doing?” Mr. Browning shouted.
“If this works, don’t leave the circle,” Sullivan responded.
“I see… Would it be all right if my bullets leave the circle?”
Sullivan drew another line. “I don’t see why not.” Browning went back to shooting.
A hand landed on Faye’s arm and pulled her around hard. It was Whisper. Her eyes were wide, terrified. “Listen to me. There is something I must tell you. It is about who you are.”
Faye didn’t understand. She turned back around. The demon was closing fast. “Can’t it wait?”
“No! Listen to me, Faye. Remember what we spoke about before?”
“Of course, but I-”
Whisper was desperate. “You must listen to me. You are the one.”
What?
Faye didn’t have time to think about Whisper’s words. The blood magic design Sullivan was drawing had caught someone’s attention. Several soldiers were running toward the Heavy. “Stop that, wizard!” shouted an officer.
“His kind brought the wrath of God upon us!” screamed one of the marchers. “Kill him!”
It was understand
able. A man drawing obviously magical markings with his own blood, with a great big demon nearby, was pretty suspicious-looking. Rifles were raised in Sullivan’s direction. “Back off. I’m busy,” he growled.
“Shoot him!” ordered the terrified officer.
“ Stand down! ” The voice that came next seemed to drown out the entire world. “You heard the man,” Dan Garrett said, angry magic seething from every word. “ Back off.” The soldiers lowered their rifles. The Mouth was pushing so hard that even Faye wanted to surrender, and she was already on his side. “That big fellow is going to save your life.” The Mouth decided to take it up a notch and put his new allies to work. “Protect this man. Fix bayonets and keep these idiots out of his way.”
“Yes, sir!” the soldiers shouted in unison, and formed a protective circle around Sullivan.
“Faye, listen to me,” Whisper pleaded. “I was sent to watch you, even to kill you if necessary.”
But Whisper was her friend. “Kill me?”
“Because you are the Spellbound.”
Faye didn’t know what to say. She recalled Whisper’s strange story, but it didn’t make any sense. “The murderer?”
“You have no idea how much I wanted to simply murder you and be done, at first… But I was wrong. The last Spellbound was evil. You are not like him, you are nothing like that grey-eyed monster, but you could become like him. The possibility was there, and that was enough.”
Faye looked away from Whisper. Sullivan had finished the spell from the Coordinator’s book. Now he was concentrating on the small design, binding it to the ground, connecting it to his own Power.
“That was his spell! That was his curse! You inherited it when Jacques killed him. Can’t you feel it? All of that death? Every time someone dies near you, you grow stronger, don’t you?” Whisper had gone crazy. She didn’t know what she was talking about.
Except she was stronger, like before, like when she’d fought against the Chairman.
Where so many had died.
“The Power bonds to us, lives through us, and when we die, it takes that bit of itself back, larger than before. The Spellbound subverts the order of things. That energy, instead of going back to the Power, it goes to the Spellbound for a time. It isn’t like your regular magic that will regrow. When you use this stolen Power up, it returns home, and that leaves you hungry for more. That’s how the first Spellbound became evil. He needed more and more magic, so he began to take it. That’s how he became a monster, and the same thing will happen to you.”
Faye’s mind had always moved rapidly, and now it was spinning through the implications of Whisper’s words. The first time she’d had a jump in Power had been when Grandpa had died. After stabbing a kanji-bound man in the heart, she’d had enough Power to beat Delilah in a fight. She’d grown stronger again during Mar Pacifica amidst the dying Iron Guards, and then even greater aboard the Tokugawa, and all of that extra Power that she’d been granted had been burned up in one epic Travel, when she’d dragged the entire Tempest a thousand miles through the walls of space. And it had started again with the sudden death of George Bolander. He’d died fighting Crow… and Faye had taken his connection to the Power.
Faye was different from other Actives. She’d just never understood how different. It made sense. She was stealing magic when people died. That was horrible. Whisper was right. Only a monster would steal somebody’s magic.
She snapped back to reality. Why had Whisper decided to tell her all this now when there was other important stuff going on? The strain was going to kill Mr. Sullivan. Veins stood out on his neck. Sweat poured down his filthy face. He gathered up every last bit of Power he had and shoved it into that design and then he went back for more. They only had seconds left.
“When a Normal dies, it isn’t much. Just the little connection that was there from when the Power first checked to see if it could bond to them, but with all of those poor people…” Whisper trailed off as she looked across the mall. “Are they enough? Could they ever possibly be enough?”
But Faye didn’t know what to do.
The god of demons’ rampage was almost upon them. Its footfalls were shaking the tanks. Shells were exploding across it with no effect. Soldiers and marchers flinched away, prepared to die.
The air seemed to shimmer around Mr. Sullivan. He lifted one hand, and with a roar, slammed it down into the middle of his spell. The sidewalk cracked. The world seemed to flex in an expanding blue wave out from Mr. Sullivan’s hand. It washed over the soldiers, over the refugees, and over her. The wave passed them by and the world behind seemed to return to normal, except for an electric hum audible just beneath the ringing in her ears.
Mr. Sullivan collapsed, seemingly lifeless, onto the broken sidewalk.
The wall of blue surged outward until it collided with the unnatural bulk of the Summoned. The demon recoiled as if it had driven itself into a mountain. It drew back and crashed into the wall again. The spell did not budge. Furious mouths opened and the demon hurled fire against the shield. The heat that came through was brutal, but the flames washed over the blue wall, leaving them all in what felt like a hollow dome of fire.
He did it! He’d saved them! Dan went to try and help Mr. Sullivan.
The Lexington had gotten into firing range, and the next shells that struck were the biggest of all, the biggest Faye had ever felt. The demon rocked back under the mighty impacts. Shrapnel whistled through the air and the spell did nothing to stop it. Soldiers and marchers died all around her. A mighty strip of flesh was ripped from the demon’s side and flaming ink poured across the ruined lawn.
Angry at being unable to break through Sullivan’s spell, and finally being challenged by something that could actually injure it, the demon took two mighty steps back, roared at the airship, and-
“Wings?” Faye shouted. “It can’t grow wings! ”
The black smoke that was pouring from the thousands of wounds on the Summoned was coalescing into two vast shapes across its back. Sullivan’s sacrifice had been for nothing. The wall had only saved the lives of those assembled in one spot. The god of demons was simply going to continue past them. It would tear the Lexington from the sky; then there would be nothing nearby that could hurt it. It would find a place to hide, maybe in the depths of the ocean, while it grew stronger. Even her head map couldn’t fathom just how big the god of demons would get on this world if given enough time.
The wings became solid.
“Faye!” Whisper said. “Look at me!”
She turned to face the young woman that she’d thought had been her friend. This whole time Whisper had been prepared to take her life, and it seemed that in these final desperate moments, Whisper had decided to fulfill her mission. There was a small black pistol in the French girl’s hand. “What’re you doing, Whisper?”
“All of those Normal deaths aren’t enough for you. It is the connection of a Powerful Active that you need.” She was crying, tears cutting through the soot on her cheeks. “No one else can stop this demon. Only you. You’re this city’s only hope…” Whisper seemed to grow more determined. “Promise me you’ll stay good, Faye.”
“I don’t-”
“Promise me!”
“I promise to stay good.”
“You must always. Find a way to kill this beast. There are children here, and they are hiding, scared, in the dark. They need someone to come and save them. When this is over, find Jacques Montand of the elders. He will know how to help you… Stay close to me, and do not waste my Power.” Whisper lifted the pistol and put it next to her temple, then thought better of it, and moved the muzzle down against her chest. “I would like to make a pretty corpse at my funeral.”
“No!” Faye reached for her but Whisper pulled the trigger and shot herself in the heart.
Time came shuddering to a violent stop. Faye could see the slide traveling back and forth and the single gleaming brass case spinning out. Whisper’s eyes were wide, earnest, with just a hint of m
ischief and sadness, but that changed, and for an instant there was only hurt and fear and doubt, and then that too was gone, and so was Whisper.
Time returned to normal.
Whisper’s eyes rolled back into her head and she began to fall.
Faye caught her friend. At best, she only had seconds to get Whisper to Jane or the other Healer. “Whisper, don’t die! Don’t die!”
But it was too late. She was already gone.
It wasn’t fair.
Faye knelt there, crying, another dead friend in her arms, in a field filled with smoke, blood, and exploding bombs, under a shimmering dome of magic, beneath the spreading wings of an angry god, as she grew… furious.
Had Whisper been right? She’d certainly thought she’d been telling the truth. But why? Why choose Faye? Why did it have to be her? Was Whisper a noble sacrifice or a selfish, deluded fool? And Faye hated herself for even asking. Was Whisper right? Had her death fed the furnace of Faye’s magic? Fearful, Faye peeked inside.
The connection to the Power had grown. Faye could feel new magic humming through every bit of her body.
Whisper had been right. She was the Spellbound. All this time, she’d thought she was special, but she was just a thief robbing the dead. She was a monster.
And it would take a monster to beat a monster.
The demon roared and leapt into the sky. Powerful wings beat and wind struck them like the edge of a tornado. Faye looked toward it, a great black shape blocking out the sky, as it surged toward the Lexington. She let go of Whisper’s body.
Faye reached the demon in one effortless hop, landing precariously between the spines on its back. It didn’t even notice her. She may as well have been a flea. The air whistled around her. They were climbing fast. Below was the city, people shrinking into flailing dots and tanks looking like toys. A desperate biplane flew past, so close that Faye could see the pilot’s mouth open in astonishment. Above, the searchlights of the aircraft carrier illuminated them. The main gun fired and Faye’s heightened senses actually watched the gigantic shell pass between the massive, flapping wings to explode far below.
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