Flawed Fracture

by Katie Vack

  Grayson looked him over unsympathetically. "You said to punch you."

  "Not that hard!" He turned his hand over, examining it. "I can't move my fingers. I can't move my goddamn fingers!" He glared accusatorily through his glasses at the lumin, rubbing his tears away angrily with his good arm. "I think you just broke my knuckles!"

  Grayson pulled a face, caught between sympathy for the stricken boy, amusement at his foolhardy suggestion, and confusion about why the warrior had such weak bones. "You never said to hold back. I assumed you were strong enough to take it."

  "Strong enough to take it!? Nobody could have taken that!" Shakily, he climbed to his feet, face clearing. "Hang on. How come you're so unharmed?"

  It was, Grayson decided, a valid point. Having to fight with his fists, he'd spent a hell of a lot of time punching walls and trees in order to strengthen them. A blow like that wouldn't have done him much damage, but at the same time he should at the very least be feeling some pain. But he wasn't.

  He raised his hand for inspection. There were two angry red marks on his first two knuckles, and smaller ones on his others, but even those were fast fading. No pain, and the bruises were fading. "The lumin you got to heal me. Some of the magic must still be circulating."

  "But," Karolus strode over, "that isn't how it works. The magic should just heal you then disperse. It's not meant to linger."

  Grayson considered it for a second, before hazarding a guess. "Every lumin has the healing ability, even those who can't use it, so we don't actually heal them; just supply them with the energy to do it themselves. I don't think anyone's ever tried actually healing another lumin. And I'm a half-blood. Maybe that's how it works with us. Normally I get healed after the injury, not before it, so I can't say I've ever been in a position to find out."

  "Interesting. I'll have tell Stein about that when I get back. But first, and I need to get this absolutely clear, have you just broken my demolitionist's hand?"

  Grayson shrugged, and Thief toyed with his hand a little more. "My first two fingers won't move. The others will, but it's difficult."

  "Wonderful." Karolus shook his head in despair. "Just. Bloody. Wonderful. Now how are you supposed to plant the charges?"

  "Oh, that shouldn't be an issue. I only had the one hand to begin with. Two fingers isn't that big a loss, and I'm great at improvising."

  "You'd better be. Now get going."

  Holding his hand tenderly, Thief began to walk off, but stopped when he reached Grayson. "If she dies, so do you." Then he continued on, allowing himself to be lifted onto Crayton's shoulder. "So don't die." Seth hopped up to take his place on the mech, before Crayton began to stride away, carrying them to their allotted positions.

  Grayson watched them go, still trying to figure out what exactly had happened. He caught Sora stifling a giggle, and shot her an irritated glance. Sunrise or Sora. If she dies, so do you. He had absolutely no idea which one of them the mutant had been referring to.

  * * *

  The train loomed on the horizon, a monstrous wurm of polished metal, scoured clean by the sandpaper wind. It was terrifyingly big, and even from his position on the ridge Grayson could tell how insanely fast it was going. It had never occurred to him what it might be like to ride at such speed, but now he realised that without Karolus to protect him his body might just be torn apart. For the first time in years, he was terrified- not just apprehensive, or wary, or nervous, but flat-out terrified.

  But he wasn't going to back down. If there was something he feared, he conquered it and crushed that fear. This would be no different, except that it would take a hell of a lot more to crush. But it wasn't like he had a choice either way, so he might as well make the most of it.

  "Three minutes," Karolus announced as he followed its progress through a pair of high tech binoculars.

  Behind Grayson on the motorbike, Sora fidgeted nervously. Even a stone cold killer like her wasn't going to have an easy time facing this. He hadn't had the opportunity to talk to her about what had happened, but even if Karolus hadn't been around she seemed to be avoiding him. To be expected, he supposed. There was a lot to be said, and neither was looking forward to the saying.

  Grayson found that, since waking up this morning, he no longer found her presence so intolerable. He still didn't like her, and he was still wary of her, but she was no longer a psychopath out to tear his heart out. Indeed, in the rush of adrenaline brought on by the incoming leviathan, he found her presence at his back almost comforting. If nothing else, he wouldn't be going into this alone.

  Or, to put it in Thief's words, it wasn't like he was 'walking alone into the valley of the shadow of death'. Whatever that meant. Another misused quote.

  "Two minutes."

  The maglev flew towards them, shrieking like a banshee as it tore the air asunder, splitting the world around it into scattered pieces. Nearing the speed of sound, he'd been informed. Either way, he didn't envy Crayton his job of bringing it to a stop. Something like that took a mountain to even begin to slow it down. Or a monster.

  With that thought, Sora rose once again to the forefront of his thoughts. What she had done, with his blood. At the time he'd thought it freakish and twisted, but upon further consideration it didn't really seem as bad as leeching other's lives to extend your own. And, he thought to himself, he had to admit the thought of it held him in a quiet rapture. He could imagine very little that could match up to using a person's own blood as a weapon against them. It held, he found, a grim and horrifying beauty against which nothing else could even begin to compare. Or then again, maybe that was just the woman brushing off on him. He shuddered inwardly. The last thing he needed right now was to develop a psychopathic side on top of everything else.

  Truth be told, having been over it a few times in his mind, it didn't really bother him that she could do it. There were, as with every technique, flaws, and in this more obvious than most. Firstly, it didn't seem she could do it without him first bleeding, and secondly it did nothing to make her faster in any way. Reading thoughts was no use if you didn't have time to react to them. No, what was bothering him was the impossibility of it.

  Silvans were a race of treehuggers. They had little to no technology, relying upon their 'harvests' for equipment and clothes, and living within the treetops of their forest planet. They ate neither plant nor animal, surviving through the absorption of sunlight, and their functioning digestive systems were yet unused. They might not be entirely pacifistic, but they always fought for their idea of justice, and never took a life unless absolutely unavoidable. They could talk to plants and animals, and in rare cases the worlds themselves, they could grow said plants to their will, and some of them, known as 'shape changers', could take on the forms of these animals.

  What they could not do was weaponise their opponent's own blood.

  She shouldn't be able to do that, if she truly was a hundred percent silvan. And even if she wasn't, Grayson had never heard of any race with a power like that. There might be thousands of species in this new universe, but he had memorised all of the most threatening, and she in no way fit into the list. His power might well contradict the laws of magic, but at least there was an explanation for it. Sora had nothing.

  "One minute."

  That was the mark at which he stopped thinking, switching with practiced ease into a heightened state of combat awareness. He plugged the keys into the ignition, feeling the motorbike purr into life beneath him. He checked the readings once again, for the fifth time in the last ten minutes- while he couldn't deny he felt a remarkable affinity to the vehicle, he doubted he'd ever trust a machine completely. Fuel was good, hydrogen pressure was stable, structural integrity was near perfect. Everything was prepared. Theoretically, it should all go as planned, but Grayson knew just how easily plans tended to break down right when you needed them. He made sure his grip was just right, his position in his seat exactly where he wanted to be.

  "Thirty seconds."

  Then it was
time. He clicked the transmit button, hesitating for only a moment before the urgency of the situation overrode his pride. "Halfling to all. On my way." Then he twisted the accelerator, leaning into the wind, and took off along the cliff top.

  The front and back wheels spun simultaneously into life, their flawless communication a testament to their master's dedication, and Grayson found himself forced back into his seat by the rapid acceleration. Sora's good arm tightened around his waist, threatening to squeeze the air out of him, and he braced himself against the bear hug. After all, it wasn't like she had anything better to hold onto.

  The front wheel rose up, lifting off the ground, and under normal circumstances Grayson would have worked with it; but he couldn't afford to here. He forced himself down and forwards into the metalwork, lowering his centre of gravity and bringing it to the front, and the bike levelled once more, dropping into the shattered earth.

  The pressing force seemed to die down a little, and he checked the speedometer. One hundred. He flicked the first lock, and the engine roared back into alertness, dragging the wheels around under the power of a million controlled explosions, and they continued to gain velocity.

  Wind whipped into his face and his squinting eyes began to water uncontrollably. To the right of him, hundreds of miles of open desert. To his left the shelf gave way to a long drop, with a sudden and final stop at the bottom. Beyond that the tri-rail edged closer, making its way over to his side. A five metre drop, he'd heard. One hell of a fall at this speed, but then this was one hell of a bike. It wouldn't be easy, but he'd been informed that he could manage it.

  He flicked off the second lock, pushing up through one eighty. The compressive force had begun to crush his body, flattening his lungs and restricting his breathing. The broken ground below was no longer so easily navigable, and he found that even through the extraordinary shock absorption the vibrations were flowing up through his arms and legs, numbing his hands. The front wheel began to buckle as the impact of the ground began to overpower his control, and he knew he was dangerously close to coming off.

  "Angel," he screamed into his earpiece, the risk of letting go with one hand threatening to capsize him, "any time now would be great!"

  He grabbed back onto the handle before he was thrown away, and a second later a shadow flew past overhead. The wheel steadied as though some invisible force had locked it in place, no longer wrestling to break free of his control. The wind in his face died down, the crushing force faded away, and was replaced by a sense of stillness. It was as though it was the world flying past them, and they the stationary ones. Certainly, Grayson decided, up there with some of his more disconcerting experiences.

  Karolus dropped down to hover beside them, on the other side of the vacuum he'd set up to shield them. "That good enough for you?" barked Grayson's earpiece.

  "Not bad." Another peculiar sensation. The ability to talk to somebody a few metres away, but hear absolutely nothing coming from their mouth. "How long can you keep it up?"

  "Long enough," the aetherial's voice was loaded with tension, "but not easily. Get this done fast."

  "Understood." Another speed check. Two fifty. He flicked off the third and final lock and the bike leaped eagerly forward, pouncing on the chance to transcend itself.

  Sora's arm tightened around his waist, and it suddenly occurred to him just how terrifying this must be for her. She seemed to be of a similar mind to him when it came to modern technology, but unlike him she hadn't had a week to get used to it. It appeared that neither of them had really known what they were getting themselves into.

  "Don't worry about it," he muttered in half-hearted attempt to put her at ease, "we'll be fine."

  There was a silence, as though she hadn't realised he had just spoken, then "Worry about what?"

  "This. All of it. I'm a good driver, this is a good machine, and Karolus is watching over us. Everything's going to be fine."

  Another pause. "Who said I was worried?"

  He decided not to press the matter, nor point out that she was burying her face in his back in an attempt to shut it all out. Acutely aware that they were completely cut off from the outside world, he figured now might be the time to get some answers. "About yesterday. I was-"

  "Don't you have something to be doing?" Same old Sora again, that cold detachment and lack of emotion.

  "But-"

  "Focus, Grayson. You have a job to do."

  "Right," he swallowed, "of course."

  He checked the speedometer again. Four hundred and twenty-five, and still climbing rapidly. He was honestly astonished at how great an effect the surrounding air could have on the machine. Apparently brute force really wasn't everything. He looked ahead, and found himself staring at an approaching drop. The cliff was incoming.

  "Angel?" Four thirty-five. "How are we for direction?"

  "Still good."

  Four fifty. The edge of the plateau was rapidly approaching, the abyss rising up like a tidal wave before him, and he hoped against all hope that Karolus and Crayton had been right. If they screwed up here, he was a dead man.

  Four seventy. The acceleration dropped to a crawl, and a wisp of smoke began to billow from the engine. The drop approached, a hundred metres away, and he closed his eyes, offering up a silent prayer to the gods he'd never really cared about. Then, drawing a knife from his belt, he slashed it across his left forearm, gritting his teeth against the pain. Karolus swore at him over the radio but he ignored the man, flicking the blood over his shoulder to patter against his partner's hair and face.

  She looked up in shock. "What-?"

  And then they were airborne.

  * * *

  There were very few things that could prepare you for the sensation of freefall. Grayson's stomach flew straight up through his mouth, and he tightened his legs around the motorbike to prevent himself from breaking away. He gritted his teeth, unsure whether it was the right thing to do or not, but having no better ideas. Reaching down into the engine beneath his body, he drew forth his shadows and dragged out the power contained within, the energy filling his body and rejuvenating him.

  Below them, the maglev flew past in a raging torrent, already stretching out towards the distance, and all Grayson could think was that they could be too late. It could pass them by right now, and they'd fall straight through into the hungry abyss. He wished nothing more than the ability to close his eyes, but he didn't have the luxury. The slightest loss of attention here would prove fatal.

  They dropped past the upper rail, a hair's breadth away, close enough to reach out and grab it, and again came the horrific premonition that there had been some kind of mistake. And then they touched down, and there was no more time for second guessing.

  The two of them dropped the five metres onto the train, the impact from the landing feeling like a sledgehammer blow. Then their velocity compounded with that of the train, and even with Karolus' shielding effect the sudden acceleration was enough to leave them stunned. Grayson was pressed back into his passenger, feeling a rib crack and knowing it wasn't his own.

  He brought down the speed, dropping dangerously fast but still preferable to the alternative. Invisible braces coalesced around him to hold him in place, and he skidded to a stuttering halt by the front of the train. Tears rose unbidden to his eyes and he burst out laughing, hysterical for no apparent reason. Perhaps that he was still here to be able to laugh.

  Karolus touched down beside them, dropping to his hands and knees and gasping for breath. His task might not have held the same danger, but that hadn't made it any easier. Grayson dismounted, tripping and nearly tumbling over the side, rolling away panting to lie on his back facing the blue sky above. There was a part of him that wanted nothing more than to lie here all day, but again he didn't have the privilege.

  Sora appeared in his line of view, pale face splattered with his blood, and offered him her hand. He took it, rising shakily to his feet, and she locked eyes with him for a second; not accusatorily
, but not appreciatively either. "That wasn't part of the plan."

  "I improvised."

  "Don't."

  "But-"

  "I know you meant well. But don't ever do anything like that again."

  Karolus got to his feet, walking over to them and cutting off the conversation. "What the hell was that?"

  Grayson barely glanced at him. "Improvisation. Bring the bike."

  Then he set off running, Sora at his heels, towards the far end of the train. Two minutes, sixteen seconds.

  * * *

  Grayson fired a crossbow bolt into the roof of the train, swinging down alongside to come level with the door, an easy task within Karolus' area of control. It was locked, just as expected. Sora passed him down a shaped charge and he planted it against the lock, braced himself, and thumbed the detonator.