Alexis’s body had gone numb, and her brain felt sluggish. Beneath her, the rhythm of Nate’s wings faltered and slowed, and his mental touch was weak. But though the lava creatures had been neutralized, the other demons weren’t far behind, and the barrier was almost completely torn—it could be repaired, but just barely, and she had to get there fast.
Even as she thought that, the black, tentacled creature that had pulled her through the barrier in the first place rose from the ground and planted itself squarely in front of the rip. For a second she thought it was going to dive through to earth. Then she realized it was waiting for her, planning to fend her off while the others escaped through the barrier.
Nate sent, What do you think?
I’m guessing the phrase “we’re screwed” isn’t very helpful.
A ripple of amusement came down the shared link, and his energy strengthened just a little, or maybe hers did. Not so much, he agreed, then sobered. You think your rainbow lasso trick will work? I’m tapped. He’d used himself up getting to her, and saving her, and keeping them aloft.
It’ll have to, she thought in return, but really, the answer was no. When she came down to it, Ixchel was a goddess of peace, not war. But failure simply wasn’t an option. “Let’s go!” she said aloud, and kicked her heels into his feathered sides. “Git-up!”
That got her a beady, backward glare. I’m not a polo pony, princess. But then he obeyed, flattening his wings to his body and diving for the attack, and she was screaming and hanging on as tightly as she could while they dove through hell, headed for the Banol Kax.
The word “kamikaze” came to mind, as did the phrase “what the fuck are we doing?” but really, there wasn’t another option, wasn’t anything to do but die trying. So she tightened her grip and called on the rainbow magic, bringing it not from blood sacrifice, but by thinking about Izzy, who’d raised her the very best she’d known how to; about her mother, who’d given her life for the former king; about her father, who’d done his part by loving his family, simply loving them . . . and about Nate, whom she both loved and feared now, in almost equal parts. Not because she thought he’d hurt her intentionally—he was too much his own man for that—but because she needed someone who needed her, who loved her willingly and took joy in the fact. Not someone who resented the emotion, and spent as much time away from her as with her. She’d tried to take love on many conditions before and it hadn’t been enough. This time—the last time—it would be all . . . or it would be nothing.
Now wasn’t the time for those thoughts, though. It was the time for love, the time to bring things together rather than ripping them to pieces. So she concentrated on the good times, on the strong times. She thought of the angle of Nate’s jaw in the morning light and the feel of his skin against hers, remembered the taste of him, and comfort of waking up beside him and knowing she wasn’t going to face the day alone. And as she thought those things, remembered those moments, the magic came.
Rainbow light flared around them, cocooning them in a protective barrier.
Nate screeched and flew faster, searching for a way around the Hydralike creature, which was a thick stalk of darkness with tentacles that whipped around it in a dark cloud, leaving no room for error. Alexis poured all that she had, all that she was, and all that they were together into the shield magic as they arrowed through a narrow gap between two flailing whips of evil.
One tentacle grabbed for them while another swiped deadly claws across her shield magic. Alexis cried out, feeling the deep furrows in the magic as though they’d been drawn across her own skin. Nate bellowed a challenge and dived, twisting, pinwheeling them away from the demon, and then they were free and arrowing up toward the gap.
The demon gave a great roar, leaped up, and snatched them from the sky.
Alexis screamed as the thing’s grip collapsed her shield inward. Yanking her MAC from her weapons belt, she unloaded the clip into the demon and barely made a dent. The thing laughed, a booming, echoing sound, and a gaping mouth opened in its thick, stalklike trunk. The tentacle that held Nate and Alexis started moving toward the fanged maw.
Suddenly golden light bloomed all around them, and trumpets sounded, seeming to come from everywhere at once. The Hydralike demon roared denial as a sinuous crimson-and-gold serpent shape arrowed through the gap in the barrier and dived, all full of anger and righteous wrath and justice, the creator god Kulkulkan come to save his children, the king and queen of the Nightkeepers coming to free their advisers.
Gold light sparked and hissed as the feathered serpent beat its red-plumed wings and scraped a huge, furrowed gash in the demon’s flesh. The creature howled in pain, losing its grip on Nate and Alexis, who fell free.
Go! they heard Strike call, his mental touch borne on the skyroad. Close the gap! We’ll buy you some time. Kulkulkan dived, hissing and scratching as the demon reached to grab the god and other Banol Kax moved in, flanking the feathered serpent, surrounding him.
“Get to the gap!” Alexis shouted, not sure if Nate had heard Strike’s instructions. “We’ve got to fix it!”
Even now she could feel the planets moving past the equinox, could feel the barrier starting to thicken and set in place. In a few more minutes there would be no hope of closing the tear. She had to work fast.
When they reached the gigantic rip, she was shaking with fatigue and nerves, and the sinking fear that she wasn’t going to be strong enough, that she had already lost before she’d begun. Nate grabbed on to an edge of the barrier with his hooked talons, perching precariously in the gap itself. Do your thing, babe.
“I don’t know if I can.” Failure pressed at her, alongside the knowledge that she wasn’t just disappointing the Nightkeepers; she could very well be dooming the world, and all because she’d used up her magic, because she wasn’t strong enough, wasn’t good enough. She was a pale shadow of what she should’ve been, what she would’ve been if she’d been raised as had been meant, if she’d known all that she was supposed to know.
She knew Nate sensed all those things from her, thought that he would try to reassure her. Instead, though, he said, very softly, I love you, Lexie. And then he opened to her, sending her all the love that was inside him, all his respect for her, his fascination with her, his awe at the person she was—imperfectly human, and perfect for the man he’d become while knowing her.
The emotions were colors, but to call them rainbows was too little, too weak a term. They were sparkles and illumination, loving blues and purples and greens so much deeper and more vibrant than anything that had ever come from cool white light, and sensual reds, oranges, and yellows that kindled fires in her nerve endings, reminding her of the slide of skin on skin, the explosion of orgasm. The strength of those feelings lit her up from within, leveling her, strengthening her, and bringing magic from love rather than sacrifice.
She raised her hands, and colors flowed from her fingertips, the strands of light taking flight and heading unerringly for the jagged edges of the barrier. She started at the top, high into the sky, and began to weave, folding the colors together and fighting the darkness onto one side of the barrier, light onto the other. When the anchors were set, she held her breath and tugged on the rainbows.
And watched the gap draw together at the top.
Way to go, babe! The hawk’s screech was so full of manly pride it almost sounded human. Or maybe it was human; she hadn’t fully dealt with that yet. All she knew was that she couldn’t do this without him, that she needed his love, his strength. He was her anchor, her support, just as she had been his during the fight. They’d deal with the rest later, as people rather than warriors. She hoped.
She kept working, weaving the strands of light into the barrier and tying them off, forming a magical patch over the blockade built by her ancestors. It was easy at the top, but grew increasingly more difficult lower down, partly because tension was pulling the edges apart, partly because the equinox was fading, and partly because she was fading. Her head
pounded in synchrony with her heart, and sweat beaded her brow and trickled down her spine. Her hands shook as she heard trumpeting behind and below, and knew the king and queen were fighting a rear-guard action, buying time.
Move it, she told herself. She had to hurry! The adviser in her couldn’t believe she was letting Strike and Leah fight for her when it should’ve been the other way around. But the Godkeeper in her knew this was her battle, her destiny, and—
Focus, love. It was Nate’s voice, cool and blue with calm, tinted red with love. He poured more energy into her, poured love into her, supporting her and steadying her. She let herself lean, let herself believe in him, in them, for the moment at least. She got past the midpoint of the patch job and the tension lessened, though the barrier was thickening as she worked, making it more difficult to draw the edges together, more difficult even to thread the tear with rainbow light. But the gap drew together; the opening narrowed.
When it was as small as she dared, she said, “Let’s switch sides.” Nate obligingly ducked through, so they were on the earth side of the barrier, where they belonged. She kept working, threading and pulling madly, bringing the torn edges together as she sent, Nochem? Time for you guys to haul ass, or we’re going to have to come in there after you.
Coming! came Strike’s reply. There was a trumpet fanfare that ended on what sounded suspiciously like a raspberry, and then a golden blur arrowed through the last narrow gap. When the flying serpent god was through, back in the thin air of the Andes mountains, high above the cloud forest, Alexis worked as fast as she could, as fast as she dared, threading and pulling like a madwoman.
She tied off the final suture just as the Hydralike demon hit the gap, slamming into the seam and straining the rainbow weft. The patch job parted and groaned, stretching slightly. But it didn’t give.
“It’s holding!” Alexis called, and was answered by Nate’s screech of joy and Kulkulkan’s clarion bugle. And as they watched, the hold grew stronger still, the barrier knitting together along the sewn line, healing along a seam of magic. Her heart kicked at the sight. “We did it!”
Congratulations! Strike sent. Come back down, okay? He and Leah were on the ground near the hellmouth, she knew; Kulkulkan was a separate entity, one they could call to earth and link with mentally on the cardinal days. When the equinox was past and his job was done, he would return back up the skyroad.
As if knowing that time was near, the flying serpent bugled a trumpet blast of joy and approval, and turned north, powering up for the race back to Chichén Itzá. Though the demons could come through Iago’s hellmouth, the gods had to use the intersection. Alexis raised a hand in farewell as she flew through the sky astride a giant hawk.
And that was pretty messed-up, she realized as the fight drained and reality began to intrude. She was riding Nate, and Nate was a hawk. A shape-shifter. The Volatile.
Like her thoughts, the sky went dark, returning to the blackness of night with the passing of the magic.
When we get home I’m going to eat about a gallon of mac and cheese and crash for a week, he sent along their mental link. How about you? She knew he felt her unease, and was trying for something light, something that would avoid the strangeness that suddenly loomed between them.
“Chocolate and Tylenol,” she said as her stomach growled in syncopation with her headache. “And a bubble bath.”
I could get behind the bath idea, he said, projecting an image that made her blush and heated her blood to boiling.
But her response was tempered with unease. “Nate, listen. I—” She broke off, not because she didn’t know what to say, but because she suddenly couldn’t breathe. Her lungs were locked, not shut, but bloating, like they were full of water. Heart hammering, she grabbed for her throat, mouth working, trying to scream but unable to get out a sound.
What’s wrong? Nate asked quickly.
The goddess, she sent along their mental link. Something bad is happening!
In the distance Kulkulkan’s glowing golden form faltered, and they heard a trumpet of distress. The creator managed another few faltering wing beats, then began to lose altitude. Soon he disappeared from sight.
Alexis felt the world constricting around her, inside her. The rainbow magic sparked within her head, arcing wildly, loving magic gone wrong. Help, she cried as she slumped sideways and started to slide. Help me!
Hang on! Nate folded his wings and dived for the earth, for the Nightkeepers, but it was already too late. Alexis’s vision went dim, then dark.
The last thing she heard was Rabbit’s voice screaming, Stop it; you’re killing them!
Iago shrugged off Rabbit’s attack and shoved him into a mental corner, leaving him weak and impotent as the Xibalban renewed his attack on the intersection.
The mage stood in the altar room beneath Chichén Itzá. The torches belched purple-black smoke, and the air rattled with foul magic. Desiree’s body lay sprawled on the now-cracked chac-mool altar, leaking blood. The crimson wetness filled the lines carved into the stone, highlighting the sacred patterns and pooling in a horrible parody of the good, pure magic the Nightkeepers had performed in that same chamber. On the floor lay what was left of the ancient artifacts bearing the demon prophecies, which had been broken to dust beneath Iago’s boots as an added source of power.
Rabbit could feel the equinox, could feel a battle raging on the magic plane, light against dark, but he couldn’t follow it. All he knew was the part he was being forced to play, his magic joined with Iago’s as the Xibalban’s plan came to fruition.
When the Nightkeepers had appeared at the hellmouth and joined battle against the death bats and the Banol Kax, Rabbit had expected Iago to throw his powers on the dark side of the battle, to swing the fight in his favor. But he hadn’t. Instead, he’d smiled and ’ported directly into the altar room, and begun a set of spells Rabbit had never heard before. Hell, he’d never heard of them before, didn’t know what they were intended to do. But though he wasn’t able to follow the intricate spell casting in the old language, he’d readily pulled the intent from Iago’s mind.
The bastard was dismantling the skyroad.
If he succeeded, Strike, Leah, and Alexis were all in jeopardy, as they were linked to their gods. Even worse—if there was anything worse than losing, like, a quarter of the Nightkeepers’ fighting force, along with the royal couple—if the Xibalban succeeded in destroying the skyroad, there would be no more hope of the gods coming to earth. No more Godkeepers. Potentially no more visions, save for those sent by the ancestors, who were on a lower plane than the gods.
Rabbit knew he had to stop the Xibalban. Too bad he didn’t have a fucking clue how he was supposed to do that. Iago controlled both of their minds, and his magic was so much stronger.
Think, Rabbit told himself. Fucking think! It was hard to focus as Iago repeated the short spell for the eighth time and the chamber started shaking itself apart, locked in an earth tremor that felt like it was going to take out most of Mexico, never mind just the tunnels.
The Xibalban stepped up to the broken altar and withdrew a sharp stone tool from his belt—not a knife, but an awl of sorts. Bracing his chin against the edge of the broken chac-mool, he stuck out his tongue and drove the awl directly through it.
Agony flared in Rabbit’s mouth as though he’d made the sacrifice himself. He tasted blood and magic as Iago stood and felt in the pocket of his dark robe, then pulled out a long string that was knotted at regular intervals, with each knot holding a wickedly pointed thorn. The thorn rope was one of the oldest of the Maya’s sacrificial tools, one that had been used to allow the kings to talk to the gods.
Now the Xibalban used it to close the lines of communication. He threaded the string through the hole he’d punched in his tongue and started pulling it through as he recited the spell one last time, nine repetitions for the nine layers of hell that would hold sway once the earth was cut off from the thirteen layers of heaven. As he did so, the tremors became a qu
ake, not just on the physical plane, but on the magical one as well. Rabbit could feel the barrier itself shudder with the force of the attack, could feel the skyroad starting to come apart.
Don’t be such a girl, he heard a familiar voice whisper at the back of his mind. Do something!
His old man wasn’t there; he was long gone. But he was right too, Rabbit knew. So he gathered his magic and scraped his tired self together, preparing for one final attack. Iago wasn’t paying attention to him except to drain his power and use his strange half-blood magic to fuel a spell that shouldn’t have existed, shouldn’t have worked. Rabbit knew he couldn’t cut off the connection; he’d tried and failed already. He couldn’t take over Iago’s mind, either, because the bastard was watching for that. But what if he added to it? Could he use a power surge to kick the bastard offline, maybe fry his synapses?
Maybe, he thought. Possibly. It was worth a shot. And if he fried his own cortex in the process, that’d suck, but at least he would’ve been a hero once in his life. The thought of dying made him sad. But the idea of taking Iago with him almost made it okay. Almost.
Knowing there was no hope for it, no other option, Rabbit closed his eyes and thought of fire. Thought of telekinesis. Thought of mind-bending. Thought, quite simply, of magic in all its forms and glory. He felt the power grow within him, felt the madness and heat of it batter him, swirl around him, making him feel larger and smaller all at once. When it reached its apex, when he could call no more magic, contain no more power, he turned out of the small corner of Iago’s mind that he’d been occupying and flung himself at the mage’s consciousness.
He sensed Iago’s focus shift in the last second before impact, felt the Xibalban bring his own magic to bear. Then they collided, and the world blew apart.
Magic was a firestorm, a power surge that overloaded Iago’s mind and derailed his spell casting. Rabbit grabbed on to the mage’s consciousness, hung on, refused to let go. The Xibalban tried to flee back along the connection to Rabbit’s body, but there was no way Rabbit was letting the bastard wake up in Skywatch, so he dug in, feeding power into the spell, pumping it up. He sensed Strike, Leah, and Alexis caught in the dying skyroad. Instinctively knowing that he couldn’t do anything to repair the road, that it was already too late, Rabbit turned his attention to his teammates, feeding them all the magic he could muster, trying to overload the connections and kick them free.
Dawnkeepers Page 46
