by Matt King
Tamaril shook his head. “You stubborn, ignorant—”
“Hey,” August said, putting out his hands to stop him. His fingers felt an instant shock of energy as soon as he touched the god’s shoulder. “Everybody take a breath.”
“I know what they’re planning,” Tamaril said, still looking at Cerenus. “I know what horrors they wish to unleash. You think defeating their machines once is going to stop them? Think again. Tiale, the Tria—their powers alone are enough to extinguish billions, and Amara will let them die without a thought. Her obsession has reached a tipping point. Life means nothing to her now, not yours, not hers, not anyone’s.” He turned his celestial stare to August. “Walk away if you want to. Listen to Cerenus’s paranoid ravings and go back to the safety of Meryn’s worlds, but never for a second think that you’ll be safe. Amara will end this soon. Meryn and Paralos have stretched her patience too thin. Fight her alone and you will all die. Fight with me and you will finally have a real chance to win this war.”
August lowered his hands and looked between the two gods. Cerenus, for once, said nothing. His golden eyes looked hyper aware, like he expected an attack any second.
God damn it. Why couldn’t Aeris be the one to be here? He felt the weight of the seconds as he weighed his decision. One thing was for sure—he could feel an end to the war coming soon. He didn’t know how or why, but he felt the end near. If Tamaril was telling the truth, they would need him. If he wasn’t…
Then the end might come today.
He had no evidence Tamaril was lying, but deep down his words didn’t sit right either. Something about his responses seemed rehearsed, like he’d already anticipated August’s questions. August scrambled to figure out a way to test the god’s allegiance.
“All right,” he said, taking hold of an idea. “We’ll meet your army.”
Tamaril nodded and cast a hint of a smile at Cerenus.
“But it won’t be me going. Cerenus will.”
“What?” the two gods said at once.
“There’s too much on the line to trust you right away, but I trust him.” August tilted his head toward Cerenus. “If somebody who hates you this much says you’re telling the truth, then we’ll shake your hand and fight alongside you. But if you’re lying, you’re going to answer to him.”
Tamaril showed the flash of anger again. He closed his eyes for a long time before answering, “As you wish.”
“Everybody looks miserable, so that probably means we have a good deal.” August turned to Cerenus. “We’ll see you when you get back. If you need us…”
Cerenus laughed off the rest of the sentence. “Don’t worry. It’ll take more than whatever champions he’s created to challenge me.”
“It’s settled then.”
The Horsemen started walking back to the synapse. August followed in behind.
“You will tell Meryn what I said about Amara’s plans,” Tamaril said, walking after them.
August looked back over his shoulder and nodded. “I will.”
“It’s important she understands how quickly Amara is set to act.”
Looking ahead, the synapse loomed large. Being night on the other side, it was barely visible against the Void’s dark sky. Why did I think it was farther away? he wondered. The Horsemen were already at the face of the doorway. The first two went through without hesitation.
“Anything else you want me to tell her?” August asked.
He paused as the final Horseman walked through the membrane between worlds. They stood in a row on the other side, surveying. Then, at once, they turned and ran back toward the synapse.
He swung around to find Tamaril behind him. Over his shoulder, Cerenus looked like he was yelling something, but he wasn’t making a sound. He pounded his fist against an invisible wall.
“Yes. Tell her you were right not to trust me.”
A mirrored shield formed over the god’s face, letting August see the reflection of his hand as he reached for his swords. Before he could strike, Tamaril pushed him off his feet and through the portal to the other side. August landed hard on a bed of thick grass.
The blurred vision of Tamaril’s mirrored face stared back at him. He turned for Cerenus just as the portal closed in a wisp of smoke.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
As soon as he saw the synapse, Cerenus knew something was wrong. For one thing, it was too close; they’d walked much farther than that to reach Tamaril. Then he saw the world on the other side. To August and the Horsemen, it probably looked like the world they’d just come from. He saw it differently. In his brief glimpse, he saw the signature structures of a planet that had evolved to protect itself against an encroaching sun. He mentally raced through Tamaril’s known worlds until he made the connection. His heart began to race. They were walking to their deaths.
He tried to warn them. The words bounced back at him like he was inside a room. He shot forward and ran headlong into an invisible wall.
He can’t do this. The rules…
A mirrored mask formed around Tamaril’s face, just like the one he’d seen worn by the unknown champion on Soraste’s world, and at once Cerenus understood. Tamaril wasn’t doing this at all. His godclone was.
He let out a pulse of energy, trying to break free from his prison. The blast hit the wall and dissipated through its structure. He pounded his fist against the face of the cage.
“As usual, your presence has ruined a perfectly good day,” Tamaril said. His clothes morphed, becoming a suit of dark armor. “My plans included the Lawson man, or Aeris, but not you. You weren’t supposed to be here.”
“I’m rarely where I’m wanted.”
Tamaril shut the synapse behind him, leaving them in darkness once again. “You recognized the world, I assume.”
“Orealis.” Cerenus’s stomach tightened at the mention of the planet. Even though it had been dark during his glimpse through the synapse, daylight would be coming soon, and its effects would be deadly. August might last longer than the Horsemen. They were all going to die soon, though, if he did nothing.
“I can’t promise that it will be quick, or painless,” Tamaril said. “But it will be over for them.”
“Letting a sun do your dirty work. That’s cowardly even by your standards.”
“Oh they have more to worry about than just the heat,” he replied.
Cerenus had heard that tone of voice before. It was the sound of a man who was two moves ahead in a game no one else knew they were playing. Not for the first time, he missed his connection to his godly self. He needed to be able to see more than his two mortal eyes could show him. For one thing, he wanted to know how Tamaril had enough energy to form a synapse over such a long distance. Even if reaching a world that far away were possible, it was no use trying to form a synapse to save August and the brothers if he didn’t know where on the planet they were.
But Meryn can show me.
As soon as he formed the thought, he tried to connect with her. Immediately, something wasn’t right. It was almost like he’d lost the ability to communicate.
“I’m afraid I can’t let you do that,” Tamaril said. “Facing reinforcements isn’t part of the plan either.”
Cerenus steeled himself for a fight. “And what is the plan?”
“You and I don’t have to go down this path. Amara only needs one more death to bring Pyra back. Let August die and bring me the Lawson man, then Amara can have her revenge on Meryn and this will all be over. Two meaningless lives to save countless others.”
“You’re out of your mind,” Cerenus replied.
“Sometimes I think I’m the only rational mind left in this war.”
“You don’t get to make those claims when you’re fighting for a woman who believes some mythical god is coming to save us all.”
“Pyra is real,” Tamaril said.
Cerenus scoffed. “She exists. That’s not the same thing as being a god from another dimension. Really, Tamaril. I can’t believe I ever tho
ught of you as my equal.”
“Funny. I never thought of you as mine.”
He wanted nothing more than to drag the arrogant bastard to the planet’s core and watch him burn. Not yet. August. I have to save August first.
“You’re standing on proof of her power, you know,” Tamaril said.
Cerenus looked around. “Silly me. And here I thought it was just a very boring planet.”
“I’ve studied this place since my youth.”
“We’re all aware of your obsessions.”
Tamaril walked closer. “You and I both know mass extinctions happen all the time. But there’s a reason for them—orbital collisions, plagues—but life doesn’t simply disappear with no trace. I couldn’t accept it. So I looked closer.”
“Which grain of sand was it that changed your mind?” He tried to think past Tamaril’s ravings to figure out a plan.
“I stopped looking for what was missing. I looked for what was here. Do you see it?”
Cerenus scanned his surroundings. He looked beyond the surface of the world and saw what he expected to see: layers of rock, the bones of the dead. Then he looked to the sky. His eyes searched the atmosphere. That’s when he saw what Tamaril wanted him to see. Traces of something mixed with the elements. It was a substance he didn’t recognize. Impossible. There was nothing left in the universe that could surprise him, nothing that hadn’t already been studied and explained. And yet, what should have been bonds of energy holding elements together was instead a dark crimson residue, like a charred husk of what it had replaced.
“Otherworldly, wouldn’t you say?” Tamaril asked.
“It’s hardly proof,” he replied, but his words felt hollow. Something—some unknown force had done this. It had consumed what should have been eternal: life’s energy.
“Don’t be dense, Cerenus. Think. What have the humans always done when they learn of us? They call us gods. They don’t understand how beings like us are possible, so they rationalize it by explaining our powers as supernatural.”
“You’re saying that’s what Amara is doing.”
“I’m saying Amara has found something, or someone, of unimaginable power and at one point they were here on The Void. A being from another dimension, perhaps. Or another universe.”
“All myths.”
“There doesn’t seem to be anything mythical about what happened here.”
Cerenus’s mind raced at the possibilities. He’d have to piece it together later. For now, he needed to find a way out of his prison. “Even if it were true, what you’re doing makes even less sense. If Pyra does this what do you think she’s going to do to you?”
“Pyra is coming, Cerenus. It’s an inevitability. We can either side with her or be destroyed by her.” He came closer to the cage. “I’m surprised you’re fighting this. You, more than any of the rest, know the value of survival.”
“My self-centered actions only go so far. I draw the line at killing billions, if you can believe it.”
“I don’t,” Tamaril said.
Cerenus balled his fists. “You always were an arrogant bastard. You have no idea who I am.”
“That’s a lie, one you’ve become quite good at telling yourself. Everyone knows who you are, Cerenus. Anemolie, Galan, Amara—they know how this will end. Once you see with your own stubborn eyes that you can’t win this fight, you’ll come back to us.”
“I won’t.”
He could feel Tamaril’s smile behind the mask. “Tell me, when you’re all alone with your thoughts, how do you see yourself justifying your actions when you abandon Meryn? Do you hope they forgive you? Do you care?”
Cerenus slammed his fist against the wall of the cage again. A crack of energy appeared across the face. He glared through the splintered surface at Tamaril on the other side.
The god braced himself. His hands began to glow red. “Come through that wall and you won’t live to betray them.”
“It’s hard to see the fear in your eyes when you hide behind a mirror.”
“The mirror serves a purpose,” Tamaril said as he turned his head, lining Cerenus’s face up in his mask. “People never like to see themselves for who they truly are.”
Cerenus gathered all his strength and blasted through the prison wall. The cage gave way in a spray of light. His momentum took him into the waiting grip of of Tamaril, whose fingers coiled around his arms and tossed him to the ground. Cerenus created a synapse beneath his fall, placing the exit right behind Tamaril. He tackled the godclone and sent a blazing punch straight to the center of his chest. Tamaril flew helplessly backward.
Every part of him wanted to keep fighting until the lying bastard was a bleeding corpse. There’s no time. August will die if I do. He needed to lose Tamaril and make his way to Orealis before the sun rose.
Still, the urge to lay his fists into the cretin until he didn’t have the strength to go on was overpowering.
No. I can’t.
Tamaril pushed himself off the ground. His fists pulsed red.
“You deserve every second of pain that’s coming one day,” Cerenus said, “And I will be the one to make you suffer. I promise.”
Tamaril streaked across the gap between them. Cerenus backhanded him into the stagnant ocean, then shot off toward the sky.
It wasn’t long before he felt Tamaril’s energy following him. He had to think quickly to stay ahead. His mind struggled to remember where Orealis was. Deep inside Tamaril’s claim? Near the far edge? He didn’t have time to decide before he had to make his first synapse. He pinpointed his destination through the stars and sped through the portal opening to the end of the first jump. He created a second, then third, and after enough jumps, he looked back to see if Tamaril had followed. The godclone rocketed through space toward him. Good, he thought. Keep coming. I think I know right where to put you.
He opened a new portal, feigned flying toward it, then moved aside just before breaking the face. Tamaril couldn’t stop in time. He went flying through the synapse, and Cerenus closed the doorway to the nearby Vontanu quickly. I hope you enjoy the firestorms.
Finally free to gather his bearings, he plotted a course to Orealis. He sped through synapse after synapse, reaching as far as he could with each jump. Stay alive, August. Just a few more seconds and I’ll have you.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
August ran forward, but the synapse to the Void had already disappeared into mist. He ran his hand through the remnants of the portal’s tail.
It’s Cerenus. He’ll be okay, he told himself.
The words felt hollow despite the fact that Cerenus was capable of surviving situations no one else could. This seemed different though. It didn’t take August long to put together what had happened. Tamaril had created a godclone, just like Cerenus. If that was true, Cerenus might not be as safe as he hoped.
Are we?
He looked over his shoulder and found the Horsemen standing behind him.
“Everybody all right?” he asked.
The brothers gave a slow nod.
“I don’t like being anywhere Tamaril wants us to be. Stay alert.”
Stay alert was the last thing he needed to tell the Horsemen. Still, they formed a circle around him and took out their blades, gripping the curved knives in each hand.
August scanned the heavy fog. As he moved, his feet dragged through thick ground cover. It was like trying to walk through a carpet of spider webs. A hard, waxy coat of resin covered each blade of grass, making them cling to his armor. He reached down to touch one of the leaves. The coating compressed like rubber, but wouldn’t break. Dew covered its surface.
He tried to get his eyes to focus through the fog behind them. There was a small dark hole, an opening maybe, situated in the middle of what he guessed was a craggy mountainside. The landscape ahead was nothing but grass, running along gentle hills that crept down a slope. That way looks less creepy.
Taking deliberate steps, he led them farther into the mist. His heart b
eat wildly. He took out his swords when he saw a shape silhouetted in the fog. Whatever it was, it wasn’t a person. The shadow had broad shoulders that tapered down to four legs, two long ones in front and a pair of smaller ones in back. The creature lowered its long neck and rifled through the grass. As August got closer, two smaller shadows appeared behind it.
Animals, maybe. Just let them be the cute kind and not the kind with fangs.
As soon as the animals heard him, they raised their heads. He could see their eyes now, long, slanted ovals that seemed luminescent in the shadows. The larger one in front had a long piece of grass sticking out of its mouth. It chewed absently.
“Hey, cute little space deer,” August said as he re-sheathed his swords. For some reason, he felt the need to hold out his hand as he approached. “Please don’t bite my face off.”
The animals didn’t flinch, even as he got within arms length. Finally, the larger one turned away like it was bored and craned its head to look back through the fog. A small swath of hazy blue light crept along the horizon.
With a panicked quickness, the deer snapped its head around to let out a high-pitched howl. All around them, animals hidden by the long grass popped their heads out of the reeds and looked back into the fog before adding their voices to the wailing chorus. Then, at once, they took off into the mist as a group, galloping as fast as their legs would take them. One by one they jumped, extending flaps of webbing between their legs and diving out of sight.
The hell was that about?
August looked back, half expecting to see a T-Rex rumbling out of the mist. There was nothing but slow-moving fog.
He ran down to the lip of what turned out to be the edge of a steep drop-off. A jet of whitewater streamed out of an opening in the rock wall beneath him, creating a loud waterfall. The animals glided through its spray, then drew in their wings to dive into a pool of water at the bottom. The air in the canyon was clear enough to see their silhouettes beneath the surface. They swam toward a green dome that rose above the water like a toadstool. Once they were in its shade, they climbed up to a pedestal of rock, disappearing from view.
