A contingent of over fifty soldiers—all wearing gray jumpsuits with no insignia—entered the chamber, surrounding them on every side.
‘‘Grant,’’ Alex said, grabbing his arm again, ‘‘knock these guys out and let’s just get out of here.’’
But Grant wouldn’t budge, his eyes locked on his grandfather.
‘‘Grant, forget him! Don’t listen to anything he says!’’ she exclaimed.
‘‘You really think I would let you escape?’’ the Keeper replied. ‘‘You think I wouldn’t be prepared?’’
His finger was still on the remote, even though the bomb it triggered had already gone off . . .
‘‘Consider that first blast just a warm-up. His big brother is next, more than enough force to level this entire cavern and bring the building on the surface crashing down as well.’’
‘‘You’re willing to kill yourself over this? Why?’’ Grant asked between hard breaths.
‘‘When I called you on the telephone earlier, I sealed my fate by defying the Secretum. I am no longer one of them; their purposes for you are not mine. I want to unleash your full potential. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. The Secretum wants you under its thumb. They believed I was working toward that goal, but I wanted what was best for my blood and kin. To do that, your defenses had to be removed one-by-one through a carefully calculated game. I’m sorry for the pain the process has caused you, but it was the only way.’’
‘‘And the Loci?’’ Grant panted. ‘‘Why did you do this to them?’’
‘‘Package deal. They’re your army. Created to suit your specific needs, as the Bringer. The Forging has bonded you to them forever.’’
Grant looked around, into the eyes of the soldiers surrounding them. He was sure he could take all of them with a single thought, but didn’t think he could stop his grandfather from pressing that trigger at the same time.
The Keeper rolled his eyes again, watching Grant. ‘‘My boy, if you had any inkling of what you were doing at all, you could have called the others here to help you by simply thinking it.’’
Grant met his grandfather’s eyes with an even, triumphant glare.
‘‘He did,’’ a voice called from high above.
It was Payton.
The Keeper turned sharply to look up. His eyes danced at the sight of dozens of ring wearers encircling them on the balconies above.
All of their fingers were glowing.
64
‘‘Payton,’’ the Keeper said in recognition. ‘‘I had such high hopes for the Thresher.’’
‘‘Anyone else bored?’’ Payton called out.
With that, he leapt over the edge of the balcony and landed neatly on the ground floor. If he ached from his recent battle with Konrad, he didn’t show it. Sword in hand, he was off, slicing into guards on all sides in blurry swells of movement.
Grant used the distraction to force the bomb trigger out of his grandfather’s hand and it sailed across the room.
The others above them followed Payton’s lead, some jumping down as he did, others finding safer routes. All were met by the gray-clad guards, fists flying, guns blazing.
The guards outnumbered the Loci, but the battle was woefully one-sided. Payton zipped about, stabbing and parrying, taking down two or three at a time . . . Alex forced fear or embarrassment or misery into the hearts of everyone she looked upon . . . Morgan and Fletcher had put their heads together earlier and planted booby traps in connecting corridors, and now triggered them as some of the guards tried to flee . . . Even Daniel and Lisa were in the fight. They had stolen Taser guns from the Inveo plant the previous night and now used them on any nearby target.
Grant and his grandfather squared off in a solitary corner of the room. They began circling opposite one another, mirroring each other’s moves.
Neither took his eyes off the other.
‘‘What are you not telling me?’’ Grant bit out his words. ‘‘What is this really about? What’s the big thing up top that ‘only I can stop’?’’
The Keeper’s eyes flashed, briefly.
The building was rumbling again, keeping time with Grant’s anger.
‘‘It’s you, isn’t it?’’ Grant spat. ‘‘You’re doing it. I kill you, and it all stops.’’
He wasn’t asking.
The Keeper edged closer to Grant and then froze in place.
‘‘No, my boy,’’ he replied. ‘‘It’s you.’’
Grant froze, his mouth gaped open.
‘‘The darkness,’’ the Keeper said, ‘‘the storm raging in the skies above . . . it’s the pain you feel. Your hatred for me. Your grief over Hannah. Your blind rage!’’
Grant’s head began shaking from side to side.
The Seal glowed, brighter and brighter . . .
‘‘No . . .’’ he whispered weakly.
‘‘What did you think this was about!’’ his grandfather roared, his countenance suddenly altering its cool exterior to reveal a venomous contempt. ‘‘You miserable little fool . . . it was always about YOU!! ’’
A mighty rumble shook the ground beneath them . . .
His ring glowed brighter . . .
But Grant was too stunned to move. His eyes were hazed over, lost, unfocused, looking far away at nothing.
This isn’t happening . . .
It can’t be true . . .
‘‘The Bringer is a force of destruction,’’ the Keeper shouted. ‘‘The power of the atom . . . the energy of the sun . . . Crumbs on the table compared to what you’re capable of. There is only one universal truth in this life: you are either in control, or you are under it. I’ve seen to it that you will take control of your own destiny and sweep through this world like nothing that has ever been. You will seize it and make it your own. That is your destiny, boy! It’s the reason I saw to it that you were born. You will take dominion over this earth. Whether you want it or not!’’
‘‘But why?!’’ Grant cried. ‘‘Why did it have to be me?’’
‘‘History marches, son,’’ the Keeper said, and he began side-stepping again, ‘‘and this is your moment in it. There is nothing left but for you to play the role that history has written for you—the Secretum has seen to that. It simply is what is.’’
‘‘No,’’ Grant tried to cry out with all that was in him, but only a whisper came to the surface. He was too lost, unmoving, staring straight ahead—almost catatonic.
He tried to focus his emotions, tried to concentrate on being calm, tried to quiet the storms within and without.
But all he could think of was Hannah and Julie and his father and his life that had been stolen and the innocent people above who were dying now and the blood that still soaked his clothes down to his skin.
‘‘If only you could rein in those out-of-control emotions . . .’’ the Keeper taunted, circling him. ‘‘But you can’t, can you? You’ve been pushed too far. You’ve lost everything! You’ve slipped over the edge and now you’re falling. Farther and farther you go—do you feel it? There is nothing but grief and hate and pain. There’s no one left for you to love.’’
A war raged inside Grant. As hard as he wanted to contain his emotions, all he could do was feed them. It was too much. The Keeper was right; he had gone over the edge and there was no coming back now.
Maybe he should just let go, it would feel so good . . .
The ring was glowing so brightly now, and it felt right . . .
‘‘I have given you the ultimate power, my boy,’’ the Keeper’s voice intoned evenly. ‘‘You can change the world itself with a thought. You’re in control. And I can only imagine what you must want to do to me at this very moment . . .’’
Give in, Grant, he thought desperately.
Just give in.
Every blood vessel, every pore, every hair follicle on his body was screaming it.
Destroy him!
It will be so easy . . .
Grant was losing himself, he could feel it, and he didn’t c
are . . .
Let the world turn to ash.
Nothing matters anymore, anyway.
‘‘Do it!’’ the Keeper screamed maniacally. ‘‘Destroy this place! Take control and bring the whirlwind!! ’’
Grant bore down with all that was within him and beat it back.
‘‘No!’’ he screamed and backhanded his grandfather so hard the old man flew across the room.
His knees buckled and he collapsed onto them.
Grant balled his fists and closed his eyes, straining to rein it in.
‘‘Foolish child,’’ the Keeper was saying. ‘‘Reluctance has always been your downfall. Must you take time to think about everything?
That was your mother’s fatal flaw as well, you know.’’
Time seemed to stop, and the struggle within Grant paused as he turned to the old man.
‘‘My mother died giving birth to me. She died during labor.’’
A smile played at the edges of the Keeper’s lips and he nodded.
‘‘During labor.’’
He got up off the floor and stepped closer to Grant.
‘‘But not from labor,’’ he said.
A titanic blast of energy exploded from Grant, shattering half the building.
The earth shook violently.
‘‘You murdered her!!’’ Grant screamed.
The Seal shone so brightly now that the Keeper had to put a hand up to block it from his eyes, barely able to see through the glare.
But Grant could see the old man shrug indifferently as he struggled to remain upright. ‘‘She spit out the boy I needed,’’ his grandfather said. ‘‘Her purpose was concluded. And she intended to keep you from me. I had no option.’’
The earth’s rumbling grew stronger as Grant’s face turned beet red.
Blood, hate, adrenaline, and rage surged through his entire being.
‘‘I’ll never forget the sound she let out,’’ the Keeper shouted over the din, ‘‘as I put my gun into her chest and pulled the trigger. It was earsplitting, like nothing I’ve ever heard! You gave your very first cry at that same moment, Grant. It was the sound of birth and death. And it changed the world.’’
Grant’s fingernails dug grooves into his scalp, he wanted to yank out his hair by the fistful, this was just too much, he couldn’t hold it in anymore, he was going to explode and deliver the world into the same madness that now consumed him . . .
‘‘Come on, Grant,’’ the Keeper said cloyingly. ‘‘Become the Bringer.’’
The building began to shake free of its foundations, crumbling all around. The great steel panels fell hard. Mortar, Sheetrock, and concrete crashing to the ground and shattering on impact.
It was a disaster zone.
‘‘Everybody out!’’ Payton shouted.
‘‘The Dominion Stone!’’ Morgan yelled, moving toward it.
‘‘Leave it, there’s no time!’’ Payton replied.
Alex stopped her efforts and turned to where she’d last seen Grant circling his grandfather. He was collapsed on the floor, head buried in his hands, and sobbing so loud she could hear it over the noise and destruction. The Keeper stood over him, speaking into his ear. And his ring was glowing brighter than the sun.
‘‘Grant!’’ she screamed.
He didn’t move.
The building was coming down, there was no time left.
She was barely aware of Payton grabbing her by the arm and pulling her toward the exit.
‘‘No! Something’s wrong—we have to help him!’’ she cried.
But it was no use, everyone was running, stampeding from the building. No one even heard her protests.
Only Grant and his grandfather remained inside as the outer walls of the building crashed down in a terrible cacophony. The destruction was working its way in, and Grant felt powerless to stop it.
This was who he was.
He was the Bringer.
Death and destruction were his reality, his purpose.
‘‘No, Grant, you know who you are,’’ a female voice said.
He looked up.
The room was gone, replaced by familiar swirling clouds of purple and pink. But he remained on the ground, and he could still feel the building quaking around him.
His mother approached and knelt before him.
‘‘This is not your hour, Grant.’’
Yes, it is! he thought to her.
‘‘No, baby,’’ she said, watching him with utmost compassion. ‘‘Not this day.’’
His tears followed him to this place, even though he’d once thought that tears couldn’t exist here.
Wherever ‘‘here’’ was.
They soaked his face, and he didn’t care. I want it to end! he cried. I can’t keep going anymore! It’s too much. He took you away from me, and I just want it to end!
‘‘I know,’’ she said, smiling but sad. ‘‘One day you and I will get back the time that was stolen from us.’’
He sobbed.
‘‘But not yet. Do you remember what I said to you?’’ she asked gently.
You said I had to be willing to sacrifice to reach the journey’s end.
She nodded soothingly. ‘‘Are you?’’
NO! he protested. I can’t go any farther!! NO MORE!!
‘‘You must,’’ another voice said.
Grant looked up and gasped.
A second person stood before him amidst the clouds.
It was Julie.
Julie . . . are you dead?
‘‘No. Don’t you recognize this place? It’s our safe house, where you and I meet in our dreams.’’
His sister was unlike he had ever seen her before.
She was radiant. Gone was the evidence of her illness, her injuries.
She was still, at peace. She glowed with more than mere light. Her smile beamed down upon him, and he could feel it caressing his skin.
I don’t have anything left! he cried. I can’t do this anymore, Julie, I can’t!
‘‘That’s a lie,’’ Julie replied without accusation. ‘‘This flesh,’’ she said, ‘‘is telling you to give up. It’s telling you to let go. But you are more.’’
I can’t . . . This isn’t . . . I . . .
‘‘You promised me,’’ she said gently.
He looked up at her.
‘‘Never give up or give in,’’ she said. ‘‘No surrendering to despair. I held up my end. And I want my brother there with me when I open my eyes.’’
But I’m not even me anymore! he exploded. I don’t know who I am!
Julie took his hands and placed them over her heart.
‘‘Listen to me,’’ she said.
The clouds began to flash and fade, the underground complex peeking through. The rumbles and quakes grew worse still, and the entire building shuddered, ready to fall.
‘‘Listen,’’ she said again, and he focused on her calm, glowing face.
‘‘The face changes,’’ she said slowly, with great seriousness. ‘‘The body breaks. And blood runs cold.’’
He looked up into her face, tears streaming out of him.
She leaned in closer to him and smiled, holding his eyes in gentle contact.
‘‘But who you are . . .’’ she said, placing a hand over his chest, ‘‘is indestructible.’’
A gust of air escaped his lips as his chest collapsed, and he cried in tremendous heaves.
Julie squeezed his hand. Grant cried out and threw himself around her shoulders, holding her tight.
And he felt the warmth of her heart flowing through him.
The tears came down but they were different than before. Now they were strengthening him.
After a long squeeze, he let her go, and Julie backed up to stand beside his mother.
They both watched him, beaming with warm smiles.
Swimming in the warm feelings they flooded him with, Grant squared his shoulders.
He placed one hand on the cloudy ground beneath him.
And very slowly, he extended his legs.
The moment he was on his feet again, reality returned and he was inside the crumbling underground structure.
The ring on his finger—the Seal of Dominion—was glowing too brightly to look at. Its shimmering light filled up the entire chamber.
Still the Keeper stood there watching him, oblivious to the danger.
Grant took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
Peacefully.
He turned to face his grandfather.
And the earthquake immediately stopped.
Grant knew without seeing that the violence raging in the skies above, outside, had vanished also.
The Seal stopped glowing, as if someone had simply unplugged it.
But the underground structure was too far gone, and it continued its imminent collapse.
The Keeper’s eyes grew big, disbelief written across his face. ‘‘What are you doing? Your hour is at hand! The prophecy—’’
Grant didn’t react. He only looked at the old man in pity.
‘‘The Secretum wants to twist you and use you for their own purposes! But I made you master of your own fate! Will you so easily throw away the control I’ve given you?’’
Grant spoke softly. ‘‘In all this time, has it never occurred to you that perhaps none of us are the ones in control?’’
He turned away from him and walked to where the Dominion Stone stood on its easel. The spotlight that had shown upon it had long since fallen there in the dying building. But the tablet itself stood upright, stubbornly clinging to its easel.
He pushed the whole thing over.
‘‘What are you doing?’’ the Keeper screamed.
‘‘Making my choice,’’ Grant replied simply.
The Keeper stared at Grant, thunderstruck yet making no move to stop him or even flee. ‘‘The Secretum is forever, boy! Even if I fall, another will take my place!’’
Grant walked calmly away, though he could hear his grandfather’s voice screaming, fading in the distance . . .
‘‘You really think you can resist the Seal of Dominion?! Your destiny is written in stone! You may keep it at bay for a time, but the Seal is chaos, and it cannot be restrained!’’
The structure finally collapsed and came to a rest behind Grant, his grandfather’s echoes dying away, as he found his way back to the elevator.
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