by Frank Morin
“I’m going to kill you, abomination,” Alter growled, his eyes flashing with the power of his nevron. “You’re fate is sealed.”
Paul slapped him so hard, the report echoed across the square. Paul’s eyes ignited in turn, and purple fire ringed his hand. “You first, fool.”
Tomas leaped upon Paul’s back, knife striking uselessly. Paul flung him away. “I’ll shatter your soul in a moment, mortal.”
Sarah shed her bulletproof vest and pulled down the front of her blouse to expose the skin over her heart. She had to time her move exactly.
Alter’s shouted cries faded as Paul severed him from his body and began extracting his soulmask. He took his time, enjoying the process.
With the slender knife, Sarah cut into her chest, the movements fast and sure, while tears dripped down her cheeks. She felt no pain, just a terrible growing sense of loss. There were so many things she longed to say, so much she’d thought they’d have time to do.
In the square, Alter’s soulmask popped free and his dispossessed body fell in a heap at Paul’s feet. Paul lifted his soulmask high, as if in salute.
Sarah completed the cipher on her chest and activated it. The complex cipher sucked dry the well of her rounon strength and she sagged. Francesca propped her up, speaking words that only sounded like a distant buzzing in her ears.
In the square, Tomas dropped to his knees, the power of his soul meshing with hers, strengthening her, becoming one with her in such a completely intimate level, it filled her with singing joy. She could feel his love, his willingness to yield his soul to her need. The intensity of the contact brought tears to her eyes.
With her rounon replenished by Tomas’ strength, the cipher linked across to Alter, and his soulmask glowed with intense light, shifting from its dull shimmer to a brilliant radiance the color of his active nevron. Paul dropped the soulmask and retreated a step, shielding his eyes from the intensifying light.
Alter’s soulmask hung in the air, burning like a purple sun, fueled by the purity of his sacrifice.
The greater cipher on Sarah’s chest sealed to the combined power of their souls, united through sacrifice, and burned through the conduit to Alter. The brilliant light surrounding his soulmask coalesced into a slender beam that drove into Paul’s chest, piercing his greater rune.
Paul convulsed, grabbing at his chest, bellowing with pain. For a moment the torrent of energy he commanded held its own against the force of Sarah’s cipher, with Paul’s body the battlefield. He shook under the mighty, opposing forces and Sarah wondered how he wasn’t ripped apart by them.
She staggered to her feet, and their eyes met across the distance. She read his fury, his defiance and, after a second, his fear.
Her cipher continued to build momentum, like a river swelling with recent rains, while his began to wither.
“I am more than a mortal!” Paul shouted, taking a faltering step toward her.
“You are less than a man,” Sarah said, surprised when her voice reverberated through the square with as much force as his.
Paul fell to his knees, threw his head back, and howled with loss as the full measure of those three pivotal moments of history that he had been controlling were snatched away.
Alter’s soul acted as the prism to redirect all that power at Sarah.
Sarah rocked backward, every muscle convulsing in unison as the energy struck like a lightning bolt. Her skin cracked and blackened and heat tore through her, threatening to boil her blood. Her hair floated off her shoulders, sparks crackling off the ends, but she lacked the ability to breathe or to scream.
Then a second wave thundered through Sarah like a flash flood, linked back to the shades of millions of souls. The invisible blow threw her off her feet. The world burned around her, and her limbs shook as that soul force overwhelmed her ability to contain it.
Light streamed out of Sarah’s open mouth instead of a scream, and flames dripped from her fingertips. The energy consumed her innards, but she couldn’t move, couldn’t escape. She could barely comprehend what was happening to her.
Eirene stepped in front of Sarah, looking terrified. She grabbed Sarah’s arm, then let go with a yelp of pain. “Oh, Sarah, What have you done?”
Sarah wanted to explain, but she couldn’t speak. Lying in rigid immobility as the energy tore at her, she wanted to laugh at their surprise. She had needed a sacrifice, but she couldn’t bear for Tomas or Alter to give their lives for her.
Vlad’s words echoed in her mind. “If I’m not willing to take the risk to protect those only I can protect, then we’ve already lost.”
She needed their sacrifice to break Paul’s rune, but she alone would tempt the fates by attempting to control those master runes.
As the energy threatened to tear her apart, Sarah wondered if the world would label her a vampire, a monster as they had Vlad?
Through the conduit she shared with Tomas, she felt his worry, his desire to help, and that eased her pain, confirmed that she’d made the right choice. She couldn’t sacrifice Tomas’ life, not like that. She had drawn a different rune on him, binding his sacrifice to her.
The strength she drew from him made the critical difference in keeping her alive. Even so, she quivered, on the very cusp of losing control. Had she drawn upon the power of destruction as Paul had, she would have died instantly. Instead she had drawn upon the power of love, committing herself as the sacrificial offering to receive the punishing load.
As the energy reached its apex, the pain that tore at her transformed. The power of the truth she had sought burned through the link to those moments in history with singular purity. Ecstasy swept her away, so intense she could scarce comprehend it. Her muscles relaxed enough for her to move a little, but her physical form lacked the strength to handle the torrent pounding her.
Something had to change.
With agonizing slowness, Sarah dragged down the waist of her pants and cut two marks into the enhancement just below her hip, changing it the way she had in the memoryscape.
It activated instantly and, just as she had in the memoryscape, her body shifted as those marks adjusted the focus of her enhancement. Her form became fluid and her skin took on a quicksilver hue.
The glorious ecstasy filling her became a bit more manageable as her tissue composition altered and strengthened, better able to handle the strain. Sarah flowed to her feet and bounced there, unable to refrain from movement.
The sheer volume of energy filling her was more than even her altered physical form could endure. She could contain it a few seconds longer, could do what had to be done. Then she had to find a way to spend it or release it, or it would consume her.
Her eyes focused and Sarah noticed Eirene, Gregorios, and Francesca standing around her, eyes wide with wonder.
“Well, go get him,” Gregorios said, motioning toward the square.
“You look amazing,” Francesca added, but her smile looked forced.
“Hurry, dear,” Eirene said. “You may not have much time.”
Sarah wished she wasn’t on the verge of exploding. Normal enhancements would have lacked the ability to foster the quicksilver effect, and she wished she had time to explore how it felt in real life.
She didn’t. The force of those master runes were too much to contain. So she raced into the square, moving as fast as Paul had before, her legs flowing effortlessly over the broken stone. She passed Tomas without slowing, ignoring his weak cries for her to release the energy. She focused only on Paul, and nothing was going to distract her again.
Driven by so much soul power, she wanted to laugh at their earlier efforts to stop him. There was no force on Earth as strong as the combined might of millions of souls united together through master runes. She marveled that he could harness it at all. His Cui Dashi strength was awe-inspiring.
Paul had managed to stagger to his feet. Alter’s still-blazing soulmask hung in the air nearby, and the pope stood behind them, so amazed he hadn’t even tried to flee.<
br />
Paul gaped at Sarah as she approached with stolen super speed. He had been uselessly patting at the broken rune on his chest, but the skin was seared, the rune cloven in two, its power shattered.
Sarah closed in a blur, but her legs began to feel soft, as if the blazing power was beginning to melt her from the inside. It didn’t matter. She only needed a few more seconds.
Her hands morphed into shining silver blades.
Paul started to mouth a protest, but Sarah drove her sword hands into his stomach. He screamed, clutching at her silvered arms, terror in his eyes.
“I made a promise,” Sarah snarled. “And I keep my word.”
She yanked her arms away, and blood and guts poured out of the ghastly wounds. With a slash of her left arm, Sarah castrated him.
He staggered, but instead of screaming like any man would, he laughed, blood dripping out his mouth. “You’re killing yourself, you stupid mortal.”
“You first.”
With all her strength, she slashed again, and her bladed right hand cut his throat with remarkable ease, severing his head, and tumbling it across the square and into the Basilica.
Overbalanced by the lack of the resistance, Sarah stumbled to her knees in front of the pope. He gaped at her, then stared at Paul’s headless corpse that fell beside her.
“I’m glad you’re safe,” she said through gritted teeth.
Then she staggered away, searching blindly for Tomas. Her vision was darkening and her muscles quivering. Even her quicksilver form was too weak to contain all the energy she’d stolen. She needed to release it.
She’d defeated Paul, but that truth didn’t help. She’d inscribed the rune of self-sacrifice, had accepted the reality that she would probably die, but now that she faced a torturous end, she yearned for a different way.
Her thoughts scattered as she fell to her knees. Her bladed hands melted under the fervent heat of the master runes. If she could get back to Gregorios or one of the other facetakers, they could save her, but her vision blurred and she wasn’t sure which way to crawl.
The torrent of energy tore through her, stronger than ever, the rune blazing so bright against her chest it filled the square with pure-white brilliance. She tried to cut off the rune, to sever her connection to it, but her hands no longer worked. They dripped toward the ground when she lifted them, and she cried with terror.
Sarah pitched to her side, and when she struck the ground, pieces of her skin exploded away like mini missiles, burning with white-hot fire like chunks of magnesium. It didn’t relieve the pressure, which continued to build.
Sarah tried to stand, but her legs had turned soft. Her torso began to expand, like a volcano filling with lava. More pieces of her quicksilver flesh erupted away, burning as they arced through the air before exploding with shocking intensity. The thunder of the concussions filled the square and echoed in her ears.
Her final cry for help faded to a bubbling gurgle as her vocal cords melted from the inner fire consuming her. Through her faltering vision, she caught sight of Tomas rushing toward her, dodging the silver missiles shooting off in every direction.
She tried to frown. That wasn’t Tomas. It was Alter, but he was wearing Tomas’ body.
“Sarah, release it,” he repeated. “Hurry!”
He’d tried to warn her, ever since she first started testing her rune gift, tried to explain the dangers. She finally understood.
It didn’t matter. She couldn’t stop it, couldn’t control it. As her body melted into the stones of the plaza, exploding piece by piece like a gruesome fireworks display, Sarah’s senses contracted. Everything dimmed until she floated in silence, and pain faded to peace.
While her body disintegrated beneath her, she tried to feel Tomas through the soul connection they shared, but not even that was left to her. She hoped he understood she’d done it for him.
“I love you.” The words never left her lips, but she heard them.
Then she heard nothing.
Chapter One Hundred and Five
Do not act as if you were going to live ten thousand years. Death hangs over you. While you live, while it is in your power, be good.
~Marcus Aurelius, fourth life of Emperor Nerva
Sarah blinked eyelids that felt as heavy as stone. She sighed from the loss of remembered ecstasy. That energy had ripped her apart, but it had been sublime, something she doubted any other living person could ever feel.
As her mind came fully awake, she realized she didn’t hurt anywhere. She felt so deeply tired that she knew it was an exhaustion of soul more than just physical weariness, and all she wanted to do was sleep.
“Are you going to wake up finally?”
“Tomas.” Sarah snapped her eyes open and found him standing over her, smiling. The sight of him filled her with singing joy. She didn’t even care that he still wore that hunter’s body. What form he wore no longer mattered.
Tomas helped her sit. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I need a vacation,” she groaned.
She was about to ask what happened, but the memories poured back, and she clutched at his hand in remembered terror.
“It’s all right,” he soothed, stroking her hand. “You did it.”
“Really?”
“What were you thinking?” he asked more sternly. “I was the one that was supposed to sacrifice myself.” After a pause he added, “Or Alter even.”
“You did,” she said.
“You did too.” He spoke lightly, but his eyes were sad.
Sarah rubbed her face and realized with a start that her hand was not her own. She glanced down and a new fear set her pulse racing.
She wore a different body.
She was sitting on a bed in one of the trauma rooms in the Suntara headquarters, dressed in a simple blouse and loose-fitting, cotton stretch pants. Her body was slender and felt young. It looked vaguely familiar, but she’d never looked at the world out of these eyes before.
Sarah had experienced enough new bodies that she handled the shock well, but her hand still trembled in Tomas’. She couldn’t voice the question that had to be asked.
Tomas knelt beside her bed, taking her hand in both of his. “We only barely saved your soul. The explosions kept the others back, and only Alter could get through.”
“But he was dispossessed,” Sarah said with a frown.
“I gave him a lift,” Tomas said. “He’d never tried double layering before, but we were motivated.” He shivered. “That was a weird experience.”
Sarah stared. “You shared a body with Alter?”
“To save you, I’d go to hell and back,” he said. “I guess we both would.”
“How badly was I injured?” Sarah asked, her mind turning back to the agonizing ecstasy of her quicksilver flesh melting under the fervent heat of those master runes.
Tomas hesitated, and that was all the answer Sarah needed. She fell back against the pillow, unable to comprehend the loss.
She’d fought so hard to escape Alterego with body and soul intact. Those efforts had teamed her up with Tomas, had driven her to learn the truth about facetakers, and risk her life to free Eirene.
All for a chance to live as herself.
She’d defeated Paul, but she’d destroyed herself at the same time.
Francesca swept into the room, wearing a twenty-something body, looking more mature and at the same time more vivacious than ever. She pulled Sarah into a sitting position and gave her a warm hug.
“I’m glad you made it out all right,” Sarah said.
“Take good care of that suit,” Francesca said, patting Sarah’s shoulder. “I enjoyed that one.”
That’s why she recognized it. “I can’t take this from you,” she stammered, but felt a new shiver of terror. She couldn’t lose this new body so soon. If they took it away, would she ever have another one to could call her own?
“You look lovely in it,” Francesca said. “We’ve already got you a new identity, passpor
t, everything.” She added with a wink, “Even transferred all your assets.”
“Thanks,” Sarah managed, her mind lost in the complexities suggested by Francesca’s words. “So I’m…dead?”
“Martyred,” Tomas said. “Pretty impressive, really.”
“Don’t worry,” Francesca said. “You’ll get used to it. You’ll love this life, Sarah. It’s a virgin form, barely lived in.”
“But what about you?”
“New life,” Francesca said, rising to show off her new form with a spin. She was taller now, with a fuller figure. “Harriett had to change forms and sisters stick together.”
“So she’s all right?”
“Takes a lot more than dying to kill that girl,” Francesca said with a grin, which faded a moment later. Sarah wondered if she was thinking of poor Bastien. The thought of his gruesome death brought fresh tears to her eyes.
Francesca punched Tomas in the shoulder. “You watch yourself, dating such a young girl. Don’t take advantage of her.”
“I don’t think I can take advantage of the Sword of the Deliverer.”
“What?”
“It’s all over the news,” Tomas said, flipping to the local channel on the wall-mounted television. “They’re already talking about making you an official martyr for killing Paul and saving the pope.”
“You’re kidding,” Sarah said, her eyes glued to scenes of the aftermath.
Much of the front of the Basilica had been destroyed, and sizable chunks were missing from the outer shell of the dome. The square was a blasted ruin, cordoned off by police tape. In one corner of the screen they were replaying the moment when the Tiber River burst its banks and tore through the area. Sarah looked away.
“I’ve never been martyred,” Francesca said. “Way to end your first life with a bang.”
“A sword name?” Sarah asked, wondering if the other rune warriors had gotten theirs by accident too.
“What do you expect after changing your arm into a sword and hacking apart the guy trying to take over the world?” Francesca asked.
“I think you’re ready for knife fighting lessons,” Tomas added.
