Ascension (The Circle War Book 3)

by Matt King

  His skin prickled beneath his armor, almost like he had goosebumps, but he wasn’t cold. He hadn’t noticed it before, but a warm wave rushed across the front of his suit. It was like he’d suddenly been plunged into bath water. The Horsemen must have felt it too. They held out their hands to study their arms.

  Feels like Boston in summertime all of a sudden.

  The warm sensation progressed to something hotter. Through the mist, the blue light strengthened, burning away the fog to reveal a cobalt sun rising over a now-visible mountain range.

  A whispering hiss rose from the grass. Beads of moisture formed across the thick coat of wax surrounding the blades, quickly turning to stream as the light of the sun grew brighter. The heat on his skin intensified. Every second was like moving closer to a fire. He looked back to the animals down below, safe in the shadows of the canopy.

  “We can’t stay here,” he said.

  The Horsemen were already backing away from the edge of the cliff. August’s foot slipped on the slick grass when he tried to pull back. The cave, he thought. We have to make it to the cave. The dark slit at the foot of the mountainside stood behind them. Sweat drenched his skin. The Horsemen, in their dark coats and armor, were probably boiling.

  The thin veil of fog dissipated, revealing the sun in its full light. “Get to the cave! Move!” he yelled, and took off as fast as the footing would let him. The world swelled into a cacophony of hissing as the plants shed their protective shells. Ahead of him, the Horsemen’s coats were starting to steam as though they might catch on fire any second.

  They crested the hill and sprinted the last few feet until they were safe in the shadows of the narrow entrance. The temperature change was immediate. Underneath his armor, his skin felt like it was sizzling. The brothers shed their coats, patting their arms to douse the smoldering fabric. The air smelled of soot.

  He pressed the button to retract his mask. A welcome rush of relief hit his skin as the damp, stale air cooled it. Of all the ways he thought about being killed in the war, death by melting wasn’t one of them. He’d always heard Tamaril was smart. They left out the sadistic part. He took a long breath and let it out slowly as he listened to the drone of hissing outside the mouth of the cave. The calming breath did little to calm him.

  “Something doesn’t feel right,” he said aloud. Speaking to the Horsemen was always like talking to himself. He struggled to work out the nagging feeling that tugged at his thoughts. “Tamaril didn’t send us here randomly, right? He sent us here to die. We shouldn’t have been able to escape so easily.” He looked at the rocky floor leading outside. “He had to know this was here.”

  The Horsemen exchanged looks.

  August slowly turned away from the melting world outside the cave and peered into the darkness. Dust particles moved lazily through the light, butting up to a wall of emptiness. He stepped toward it, inching his way through the diagonal blue rays. The high-pitched whine of the screaming grass needled his nerves. The switch to see in infrared was only a thought away, and yet he held back.

  What am I afraid I’m going to see?

  The darkness waited with indifferent silence.

  He mentally closed his eyes and made the switch. The top of the cave was nothing but deep blue surrounded by a red vignette from the sunlight behind him. As he scanned lower, weak lines of darker blue appeared amidst the indigo. He traced them with his eyes until one of the edges moved.

  “You have to get out of here,” he muttered to the Horsemen, but there was nowhere to go, and it was already too late.

  Two blazing white orbs sprang to life in the sea of blue, unveiled like a curtain being pulled. Talus’s footsteps rumbled through the loose dirt floor as he slowly stepped out of the shadows. A dark robe fell from his shoulders, exposing his rocky skin, and lighting August’s infrared with bright red sprites from the living creatures that gave him his armor.

  August switched his vision back and drew one of his swords. His mind raced out of fear and adrenaline, but the world felt like it was moving in slow motion.

  Talus already had his great sword drawn. He stepped forward—too quickly for August to react—and drove the blade into the meat of August’s chest. The monster jerked up on the handle, lifting August’s feet off the floor, then tore his weapon back. The serrated edge ripped past August’s ribs, taking pieces of his chest with it.

  August crumbled to his knees. The sounds of the outside world boiling faded to a weak hiss. His body went cold. He couldn’t feel his hands or legs. He lazily reached for his wound, but his hand slid across the blood leaking from his suit.

  Something white hot flashed through the air. Talus fell backwards, clutching his eyes just as August collapsed in a heap.

  Though his body was dying, he watched with immortal, mechanical vision as one of the Horsemen grabbed his sword from the ground. Two others slipped his arms over their heads. “Run,” August choked out. The word barely escaped through a coating of blood in his throat.

  As they always did, the brothers worked like a machine to get him out of the cave. He could do nothing to help them. The scorching heat of the sun cinched his chest as they dragged him through the grass, still slick with melted wax.

  Outside, we all die, he thought, and it was strangely comforting to know he wouldn’t die at the hands of Talus or any other champion.

  Shouts rang out in the air. Some part of his mind recognized it as Cerenus. He couldn’t make out the words, only that they sounded frantic, but he didn’t have enough strength to answer.

  One of the brothers motioned for the other two to go on. They laid August down. His senses came back fully, and once again he heard the hissing of the melting world. Two of the Horsemen crawled toward a synapse. The backs of their coats smoked. The one who’d signaled them to go on took one of August’s arms and dragged him toward the portal. When August looked back, he saw the last brother with his sword.

  Behind him, running at full speed, was Talus.

  The great Pyrian struck the Horseman, sending him and August’s sword flying into his sibling. Once again, August dropped to the ground. He tried to force himself to move. As fast as his body healed, the heat drained all of it away again. Out of the corner of his eye, Cerenus dragged one of the brothers through the portal opening. The doorway seemed so far away. I’m not going to make it, he thought. His sword lay just out of reach. Beside it was the last Horseman, writhing beneath the sun. Smoke rose from his hair and coat.

  The vibrations of Talus’s footsteps shook August’s chest. He didn’t want to see how close the monster was. He stretched out his arm for the sword, trying to will his body to move just a few more inches.

  Talus curled an arm around his throat and jerked him off the ground, holding him toward the synapse’s opening for all to see. Through the foggy face, Cerenus stood with the three brothers on the other side.

  “Now you die,” Talus growled in his ear.

  There was nothing he could do to stop it. August waited with his unnatural stare for the end to come.

  Instead, he heard the whistling song of his sword.

  Talus cried out in a pained roar, dropping August to the ground to nurse his injured eye. The Horseman wavered on his feet next to August, loosely carrying his sword.

  August forced himself to move. He got up to one knee, then pushed up further with his hand. “Come on,” he croaked to the brother. “Hurry.”

  He half-crawled, half fell toward the portal. Before he went through, he reached back to grab the Horseman.

  Looking like a man on the verge of bursting into flame, the Horseman took a hobbled step toward the synapse. Then, like he’d been lassoed from behind, his head snapped back. Talus held him by a fistful of hair. The Horseman dropped the sword, trying to free himself, but Talus held strong. He lifted the brother up with one hand and brought his great sword sweeping in from the side.

  “NO!” August screamed.

  The blade passed through coated in blood. The Horseman’s stru
ggle ended in abrupt stillness. His entire bottom half fell to the grass.

  August fought to run back, but an arm gripping his wrist held him fast. “Let me go!” he yelled. Cerenus pulled him fully through the synapse, then held out his hand to telekinetically rip August’s sword through the portal’s membrane.

  The last thing August saw before the synapse closed for good was Talus searching for him, staring like a wild animal as he tossed aside the spent torso of the Horseman. He screamed in anger.

  August slammed his hands against the front of his mask, cursing his mechanical eyes for not allowing the tears he needed to shed. He forced himself to his feet, ignoring the searing pain still in his chest.

  “Open it back up,” he ordered.

  “I can’t.”

  August shot forward and grabbed Cerenus by the neck of his armor. “Do it!”

  “I understand you’re upset, but it’s no use.”

  “Don’t tell me that! Don’t tell me that! He wasn’t your fucking friend, okay? Open the god damned door!”

  “August, no,” Cerenus said again.

  A hand pulled August’s arm away gently. One of the three remaining Horsemen stood at his side, his face mask discarded on the ground. The man shook his head, eyes weak with pain. Behind him, the other two stood apart from each other, seemingly lost, staring blankly at the ground.

  August let go of Cerenus and backed away. A synapse formed somewhere nearby. He didn’t turn around. After a few seconds, a crowd of footsteps gathered in the clearing.

  “Cerenus…,” Soraste said. Her voice was low, ominous.

  “I know,” he answered.

  August dropped back down on the ground. His sword lay beside him. He took it slowly and held the grip in his palm. Useless, he said to himself, only another word echoed louder in his thoughts.

  Unworthy.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  The Alliance stood rooted in silence. Everyone seemed afraid to speak. August let the moments pass quietly, not caring if it made others uncomfortable. His mended heart beat rapidly. He kept his fingers pressed deep into his palms. All he wanted to do was take out his swords, jump through a synapse, and challenge everyone who called themselves a champion of Amara, or anyone else in her camp.

  Talus dies first.

  The image of the monster holding the dead torso of his friend sat lodged in his memory. It dwarfed everything else—sadness, reason—everything except his anger. That was a wildfire he had no intention of putting out.

  The remaining brothers stood together as a unit again at the edge of the forest, freshly healed thanks to Cerenus. For his part, Cerenus dealt with his loss about the same as everyone else—silently, with a tenuous grip on his anger and sadness. You could see it on his face. If August had let his mask down, they might’ve seen it on his too.

  Bear stood off to the side, talking quietly to Ion. Eventually, he wandered over to August, settling in front of him and interrupting his stare at the horizon.

  “Did you draw the short straw?” August asked.

  “I volunteered.” He folded his arms across his chest. “You should talk about it.”

  “Talking won’t bring him back. Talking won’t make Talus pay for what he did.” August glanced back at the Alliance. Aeris stood with Meryn and Soraste beneath a gnarled, leafless tree. The three of them watched his meeting with Bear in fleeting glances.

  “True,” Bear said. “It won’t.”

  “So let me be.”

  “No.”

  The answer came so solidly, August wasn’t sure what to say back. Bear met his eyes with something closer to threat than comfort.

  “You don’t get to carry this by yourself, no more than I got to carry Daddy’s death alone. You wouldn’t let me drown under that weight then and I won’t let you do it now.”

  Once again, August felt like he needed to release tears that couldn’t come. “You don’t understand. I should’ve died instead of him.”

  “Don’t say that.”

  “It’s true. It should have been me. Don’t you see? The people who try to protect me end up dead. All of them. And for what? What good have I done by being kept alive?”

  “What good can you do being dead?”

  “I won’t get anyone else killed, that’s what.”

  A noise like sizzling fire drew their attention to the woods behind them. The group took up arms at once as a swirling tornado of light spun above the ground. Gradually, it formed into the image of Galan. His disembodied face was ghostly white. Red-slotted black eyes surveyed the Alliance.

  August started to step forward, but Aeris beat him to it. She faced Galan alone with the weeds beneath his projection rustling.

  “Daughter of Paralos,” Galan began.

  “I am the daughter of Eldoran,” she corrected, “and you are not welcome here.”

  “You are less refined than I was led to believe, but I should not hold it against you, given your loss.” He cut his eyes to August and Bear before returning to her. “I am here before you with an offer.”

  Meryn started to come forward, but Aeris held her back with an outstretched hand. “We do not accept offers from your kind, outside of surrender.”

  “I assure you we will do no such thing,” he replied. “But in fact, what I truly offer is a gift.”

  “What gift could you possibly have that we would accept?”

  “An end to the war,” he replied.

  August watched Aeris’s expression as she processed the words. Like him, her face went from anger to surprise, settling on guarded curiosity. “There is only one way to win this war,” she said.

  “One result, yes, but more than one way to achieve it.”

  Her purple eyes bored into the god. “What are you suggesting?”

  “So many lives have suffered,” he said. “Amara mourns them all, for they will never know Pyra’s love.”

  “I’m sure her tears are unending,” Cerenus replied. “Aeris, we don’t need to hear this.”

  Aeris quieted him. “I will hear this out.”

  August walked forward and the god’s eyes followed him. When he looked at August, he seemed to focus, like a patient spider watching his prey inch closer to the web. August watched him with the same hunger in his eyes.

  “You do not enjoy sacrificing lives for this folly and we do not enjoy taking them,” Galan went on. “To end this cycle, Amara proposes that our champions and our armies meet in a single battle to decide this war. No more running and hiding. No more innocent deaths. Only the realization of the inevitable.”

  “Where would the battle take place?” Aeris asked.

  “We offer that choice to you. We do not fear your selection. Our champions are confident in victory, no matter the location.”

  “The Void,” August answered. When Aeris turned to him with an icy stare, he went on despite her. “It’s a dead world already. We can’t hurt it with our fight.”

  “If that is your choice,” Galan said.

  “We’ve made no choice,” Aeris replied, still looking at August. “I want to know what payment you require first.”

  Galan smiled at her. “We ask very little. We concede you the choice of battlefield.”

  “A battle we’ve not agreed to.”

  “Nevertheless, should your choice stand, we only ask that the Dillon man face Talus alone, in the decadrome on Pyr.”

  August leapt at the chance. “I’ll do it.”

  “August, do not say another word,” Aeris ordered.

  “He wants to fight me, you tell that bastard I’ll be there!”

  “August!”

  Finally, he looked at her, and her eyes were fiery. He spoke through gritted teeth. “It’s my decision.”

  “It’s not up to you,” she said. “We make this decision together.”

  “You could decline our generous offer,” Galan injected. “However, should you choose to prolong this war, we will not rest until every soul—every living thing who denies Pyra’s will—have
given their lives. This will not be an isolated attack to lure you into battle. This will be the elimination of everything you hold dear, and their blood will be on your hands.”

  He said the words with no veil to his greed. Whatever answer Aeris gave, he’d consider himself the winner.

  “We need time to consider your offer,” Meryn said, breaking the silence. She waited for Aeris to nod in agreement before she continued. “I will let you know our decision.”

  “See that you do,” he replied. “Amara will not wait long.”

  He dissolved into mist, leaving August standing next to Aeris. She looked at the ground, avoiding eye contact. Finally, she addressed the rest of the group. “We should prepare ourselves.”

  “We do not have the forces to defeat them head on,” Ion said.

  “I know.” The words were hollow, defeated. She closed her eyes like she couldn’t stand another second of imagining their fate. “I see no other option than to fight. This war must end.” She stepped past August on her way toward the forest.

  “Where are you going?” August asked.

  She walked away without looking at him.

  “So it’s decided then,” Bear said, cementing the choice in their minds.

  “It would appear so,” Ion answered when no one else would.

  Cerenus looked as lost as the remaining brothers. Soraste put a hand on his shoulder. He looked taken aback at first, then softened to allow her consolation. “We should tell Galan now. The sooner we do this, the better.”

  “I will tell him,” Meryn said.

  “If this is our last night as the Alliance, we should spend it together,” Cerenus said. He seemed to have more air in his chest, even if he might’ve been faking. “I know just the planet to throw an End of the Universe party. It’s a might more exciting than this place. It’s a bit far, so Meryn, when you’re ready…”

  “Of course,” she answered.

  The rest of the Alliance went their separate ways. Bear was the last to go. He stared at the spot where Galan had been, deep in thought. Finally, he glanced up at August.

  I have to do this, August wanted to say, but instead he let his mechanical eyes answer in silence.