Ascension (The Circle War Book 3)

by Matt King

  “Guess not.” August pointed up at the ship. “See that thing? We’re going to blow it up…somehow.” He made explosion sounds as he tried to mime out his attack. “Got it?”

  The Orphii moaned again.

  “Good enough. Follow close and try not to step on me.”

  Meryn’s Orphii may not have been much for conversation, but they’d always been able to figure out what his orders were during a fight. He charged back into the fog with Moose Tracks trailing behind. Along the way, they passed more of Meryn’s army climbing out of the earth. Some had already begun to fight the Ministers, including an Orphii covered in tree roots that lifted a Minister up in one hand and pounded him against the ground until his body broke into tiny pieces.

  They finally made it to a broken section of pathway leading back up to the main network. The ship’s hull appeared through the thinning fog, and the weakest of plans started to form in his head. He’d try cutting through the hull with his swords first. If that failed, he’d get Moose to start punching his way inside. Plan C probably involved some sort of dynamite. Plan D was figuring out a way to invent alien dynamite.

  He pumped his legs faster as they drew close. The ship was almost within reach.

  “August Dillon.”

  The words stopped him in his tracks. He could have gone the rest of his life without hearing that voice again. One look to his left was enough to locate the monster. Talus stood on a walkway two levels above them. The rocky bastard knocked away a Minister that had fallen at his feet and jumped down to the path intersecting August’s.

  “No more running,” he said in his native tongue.

  August drew his swords, and the monster did the same. The great sword made a horrible ripping sound as he took it from its rough scabbard. Talus held the weapon with one hand even though it looked like it weighed a hundred pounds. The black stone of the blade barely held a reflection from the weak sunlight coming through the sky.

  I shouldn’t do this, August thought as his body tensed for the fight. He’d been in this situation with the monster before, back on Pyra when he was supposed to be looking for Gemini and had decided to fight Talus instead. His desire for revenge had ended up costing millions of innocent people their lives. He couldn’t make that mistake again.

  “I’d love to stop and catch up,” August said, stowing his weapons, “but I need to go flatten your tires, so to speak.”

  Talus lunged forward. He ripped his great sword in a long swipe aimed at August’s head.

  Moose stepped in and took the brunt of the hit on his thick forearm. The sword lodged in the Orphii’s skin. Moose knocked the sword away, lumbering in between August and Talus.

  “This is Moose,” August said. “I’ll let you two get acquainted.”

  Before he made his escape, August looked up at the drill again. Its yellow ring of lights spun furiously. Someone had activated the drill.

  Shit.

  Just as he made the connection, the drill sank into the crust, releasing an earthquake that twisted and warped the spider web of catwalks. With no handrails, it felt like he was standing on the back of a mechanical bull. Something hard slammed into the ground behind him. Talus’ blade stuck out of the platform only inches from where August stood. The monster snarled up at him as Moose laid on the ground, his arms wrapped around Talus’ feet.

  Time to go now.

  He tried not to pay attention to Talus’s roars behind him as he ran. Every time he looked back, Talus and Moose were entwined, each trying to push the other back down to the valley floor. Precious seconds wasted away as he tried to navigate the broken strips of walkways. The path swung back toward the ship in a sharp V. Out of the corner of his vision, he could see something fighting with Aeris on a section of pathways above him. It looked like Polaris. His view of the fight vanished as Moose came streaking through the air past him, crashing through the wall of a home suspended between two walkways. The Orphii’s molten seams glowed in the darkness. He stirred weakly.

  Talus landed in front of August with a crash. He tossed away a handful of Moose’s skin.

  August formed his staff. He willed himself to stay put even when Talus bared his jagged teeth. The ship’s main engines swelled to life behind him, vibrating the air. You gotta be shitting me. August looked from them, to the quickening lights of the drill, to Talus, whose stony face was curled in a grin.

  Another tremor struck. August tried to use the distraction to skirt by the monster, but Talus was too quick. He shouldered August hard enough to knock him off the platform, then grabbed his foot as he fell, holding onto it as he whipped August through the air and back down onto the hard walkway like he was beating a rug. The air rushed out of August’s chest. He rolled over and tried to kick away so he could catch his breath. Talus swung his sword in a wide crossing swipe. August reached out with his staff to block it and the impact sent him flying backward.

  Time ticked away loudly in his head. He was losing too much ground on the ship.

  “August, look out!”

  Aeris waved her arm frantically from the pathways above. She pointed at Talus, who leapt toward him, sword held high.

  With a deep roar, Moose came shooting out of the broken tree house and caught Talus in mid-air. The two went over the side of the pathway and landed hard on the platform below, scattering Orphii and Ministers around them. Talus heaved Moose off of him and looked up to find August.

  With nothing in between him and the ship anymore, August took off in a sprint. The path shuddered beneath his feet, not from the drill, but from the sound of the engines. Up ahead, a section of broken walkway hung precariously on the barrel of a gun protruding from the hull. The Minister warship rose slowly, inching its way higher. Soon it would be out of his reach.

  He pushed his legs faster. When his pathway ended in a crumpled gnarl, he tucked away his swords and jumped. The hanging section of walkway grew larger in front of him, then started to swing away as the ship rose. His fingertips barely caught the edge. He hung on with all his strength, dangling in the wind as he fought a losing battle against gravity. Inch by inch he pulled himself closer to the gun. He looked down and saw nothing but a hundred feet of air between him and the Orphii beneath him. It took him a second to register that the fight was breaking up. The Ministers were running back toward something. Through the haze, he saw a shaft of blurred light in the middle of a platform.

  Only a short jump separated him from the ship’s hull now. He shimmied higher until he could climb on top of the gun barrel. The roar of the engines thronged in his ears. He couldn’t hear himself breathe. Vibrations shook his vision. He reached back and grabbed one of his swords, turning it around until he held the blade like an ice pick.

  You only get one chance at this. Don’t screw it up.

  He jumped through the air and rammed his sword into the ship’s metal hide. The blade buried deep. He slipped down a few inches, cutting through the metal just with his weight. If he could just grab his other sword, he might be able to cut a hole and get inside. He reached his hand back.

  A roar loud enough to be heard through the din of the engines ripped through the air. He swung his head to the side just in time to see Moose’s severed legs hurtling toward him.

  “No!” he screamed.

  The dismembered Orphii slammed into him. August fell, ricocheting off the mangled, broken pathways and landing hard on a splintered platform.

  His entire body screamed in pain as he tried to get up. Beside him, the sword he’d lodged in the ship clanged against a rock beside him. He grabbed it, wincing as he was forced to use muscles and bones that were bruised and broken. He stumbled ahead and looked up. The ship’s lights faded quickly. It’s over, he told himself. Still he lumbered forward, trying to get back up above the clouds even though he knew it was too late. His chest felt like it was filled with glass shards. Each breath brought a wave of pain with it.

  He stumbled across the wide platform holding his side. At its center was the beam he’d s
een earlier, a pulsing whitish blue column of hazy light. A pair of Ministers on the other side of the landing ran toward it and leapt into the light to escape an Orphii chasing them. The Ministers floated toward the ship.

  A tractor beam. Maybe there’s still time. August limped forward, hoping to make it into the light before it was too late.

  The other half of Moose came skidding across the floor, knocking him down. The pain in his ribs exploded all over again as he fell against Moose’s torso. The Orphii’s diamond eyes were dull and lifeless. August recovered slowly, bringing himself up to one knee. Talus looked down at him with the light of the tractor beam behind him.

  On the opposite side of the platform, Aeris and Polaris appeared through the fog. Polaris thundered away at Aeris with a pair of blades. She eventually kicked Aeris to the ground and searched for Talus on the other side.

  “Into the transport,” she said to him.

  Talus ignored her. Instead, he wiped the remains of Moose off his sword and came at August with teeth bared.

  “Talus!” Polaris yelled. She checked quickly over her shoulder. Aeris had already regained her feet. “Leave now or die here alongside them.”

  Before Aeris could get to her, Polaris jumped into the beam.

  Talus stopped his charge and looked between August and the ship. Finally, he put his sword away. “Soon,” he rumbled, then leapt into the light. The beam followed him up to the ship, leaving them alone in the fog.

  “Are you all right?” Aeris asked as she ran over to him. The Horsemen finished off a stray Minister behind her before joining the group.

  “I’m sorry,” August said. “I couldn’t—”

  “We haven’t lost yet,” she said.

  “What do you mean? Do you not see that giant ship flying away?”

  “We still have the Mountain.”

  He shook his head. “It’s too late for that. There’s nothing left for it to fight.”

  “I do not mean for it to fight.”

  Her eyes cut from the ship to the drill, and it dawned on him what she meant to do. The Mountain needed something physical to bond itself to. Why not the drill? Or the ship. They would have to aim the Orphii at one of them. “We can’t do both,” he said.

  “I know.”

  He put his sword away and released his mask. The platform shuddered as the drill sent another shockwave through the planet’s crust. The yellow lights around its hull were moving so fast, they were almost solid. Off to its left, the ship carrying Polaris and Talus barely lit the clouds. They were nearly away.

  “We might not have this opportunity again,” he said. “You can kill Polaris and Talus right now.”

  Aeris clinched her fists and closed her eyes.

  As much as he wanted to make the call, he’d given over leadership to Aeris for a reason. He’d have to trust her. “Aeris, we have to make a choice.”

  She opened her eyes and looked again at both targets. “You know there is no choice. We cannot let this world suffer.” She trained her eyes on the drill. “Meryn, do it,” she said.

  In an instant, a crack of thunder heralded the arrival of the last Orphii. Its swift wind pushed aside the heavy banks of fog. Like a bullet, the Mountain tore through the drill. As soon as its hull broke, the machine exploded, sending a blinding flash in all directions. Fire erupted from its core. August braced himself against the shockwave.

  The wave of fire collapsed in on itself like it had been sucked into a vortex. Gradually, like molded clay, the body of the Orphii began to form out of the flames. Fragments of the drill and molten rock swirled across its newly-formed skin.

  With its bonding cemented, the Mountain held out its hands, inspecting its new body, built from flames, with its single diamond eye. It took a single step before letting out a triumphant roar that vibrated August’s bones.

  For August’s part, the moment felt anything but triumphant. He bent down and put his hands on his knees.

  “It’s not your fault,” Aeris said.

  “We could have won if I was strong enough to beat him.”

  She placed a hand on his shoulder. “Look there.”

  Pity was the last thing he needed. “Not now, Aeris.”

  “Look,” she said again.

  He turned his head and followed her pointing hand. In the distance, something moved in a fallen home. A person crawled out of a window, its body as gray as the walls that made its home. The man reached back into the house and pulled another free, a woman carrying a child in her arm.

  “They are alive,” Aeris said. She smiled as she looked at them. “We did what we came to do.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  It hurt to smile. August hadn’t done it in so long, he’d forgotten how it made the irregular edges of his eyes dig into his cheeks. But when he saw Bear, Ion, and Cerenus on the other side of the synapse after he stepped through, he forgot about the pain of smiling. They looked haggard and beaten, but they were alive.

  “You made it,” Bear said. He clapped August on the shoulder.

  “And in one piece, no less.”

  Meryn approached the group and reached up to take Bear in a hug. When she finally let go, they cast a glance at Cerenus. Bear lost his smile when he saw the godclone. “Yeah, well we had some complications.”

  “Like what?” August patted the top of Ion as he floated by. Ion responded with a wisp of red across his face.

  “It’s nothing,” Cerenus answered.

  Bear cocked an eyebrow toward him. “It didn’t seem like nothing.”

  “I overreacted. I’m fine.”

  Aeris joined August at his side. They traded glances. “What is going on?” she asked.

  “We must wait for Soraste to return to know for sure,” Meryn said. “Tiale may have done something.”

  Cerenus shook his head. “It wasn’t Tiale, Meryn.”

  “But you said you felt it.”

  “Can somebody please tell me what the hell we’re talking about?” August asked.

  “After our fight, Tiale spoke to us,” Bear said. “She said something about darkness coming, then she disappeared. After she left, Cerenus said he felt it.”

  Listening to them skirt around the story was like being front row at a vague-off. Aeris must have felt the same. “Felt what?” she asked.

  Everyone looked to Cerenus. The godclone’s jaw tensed. “Normally, I have a sort of connection to my real self, if you want to call it that. There’s an ongoing exchange of consciousness. It’s how I know things are happening around the universe, sort of like being able to see and hear in multiple places at once. When Tiale disappeared, that connection severed. It hasn’t come back.”

  “Do we know what happened?” August asked.

  Meryn answered. “That is what I sent Soraste to find. At great risk, I would point out. If something did manage to kill your godly form, Cerenus…”

  Kill a god? Gods didn’t die because someone cut through them with a sword. If something had killed Cerenus, their fight was about to change drastically.

  “We don’t know if that’s what happened,” Cerenus said, but there was no conviction to his words. The look in his eyes said everything. He was a man adrift, with no sign of the confidence that had always overflowed in him. For the first time ever, he looked scared.

  Aeris walked to the center of the group. Everyone, including Meryn, turned to her without her needing to say a word. “We’ve no time to mourn,” she said. “Soraste will return with news. Until then, there are other matters needing our attention. We’ve won two impressive battles today. More importantly, we saved lives—but they will not be the last lives in danger. We do not know how many of these weapons the other side possesses, but we know they will not stop simply because we tasted victory. We should make plans for their next move.”

  “If they do have more of those bombs,” August said, “we don’t have the firepower to beat it again. Am I wrong that we’re running low on Mountains?”

  “No,” Meryn answered. She
held Bear’s hand. “That was the last Orphii of its size.”

  “Then we make a new plan,” Aeris said. “And we make it quickly.”

  Ion started to hum. Cerenus looked down at him. “What is it?”

  “Unexpected,” Ion said. “I am receiving a message.”

  The godclone turned white. “From Soraste?”

  “No,” Ion replied. “From Tamaril.”

  Everyone’s breath seemed to catch at once. August watched the swirling clouds on Ion’s face as if the god might appear through them at any second.

  “Erase it,” Cerenus said in a hush. “Whatever he has to say, we don’t want any part of it.”

  “We should at least listen,” Meryn said.

  “No, we shouldn’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “You know why not. No, what am I saying? Of course you don’t. You never could see through him like I could. None of the Circle could. He’s a liar and an opportunist. If you think I’m selfish—and I am—he makes me look like an amateur.”

  “Tamaril is smart,” Meryn answered. “Too smart not to see what Amara is doing and where her plan will lead. If he is contacting us this way, he may finally be ready to join our side.”

  Cerenus’s golden eyes blazed. “Meryn, he is a menace. I don’t trust him to share the same air as me, let alone a supposedly harmless message.”

  Aeris stepped between them, defusing the argument before it got more heated. “Ion,” she said. “Can that message do anything to physically harm us?”

  “No. It is only a recording.”

  “Then I want to see it.”

  Cerenus tossed up his hands and turned his back to the Alliance. In an instant, Ion created his theater around the group again and began playing the message. When the scene appeared, August felt an instant pang of homesickness. Everything about it reminded him of Earth. There were trees in the distance with yellow leaves like New England in fall, and a blue lake surrounded by grassy hills. The sunlight cast a warm glow on Tamaril’s face. He dressed in a muted brown tunic with a black robe on top. He could’ve passed for a monk. Like the rest of the gods, though, his eyes gave him away. They were black orbs dotted with shining white sparks like stars.