by Patti Larsen
“If you don’t mind,” she said, “I’ll instead do my best to honor him by never forgetting what I’ve done.”
There wasn’t much I could say to that.
Ameline gestured around her, attitude shifting from sad to welcoming. “Thank you for coming to see me,” she said. “And what do you think of my home?”
“It’s amazing,” Ethie said, though she looked slightly guilty about the admission, as though she thought she should remain in suspicion of Ameline.
“Thank you,” the spirit woman said. “The power in this place holds wonders I only dreamed of when I was a witch.” She offered Gabriel her left hand, my daughter her right. “Would you like to explore it with me?”
Ethie seized on her like Ameline offered her a giant chocolate chip cookie, but my son retreated ever so slightly, fear showing on his face. I held still, as hard as it was to merely observe, amazed at Ameline’s cleverness as my son spoke.
“I can’t,” he said, arms crossing over his chest as he half turned away.
She didn’t move or drop her hand, just stood there with the offer open. “You worry about the talent inside you,” she said. “That once you opened a way here, and fear you would do so again.”
Gabriel glanced at me, a quick and guilty look. “Yes,” he said.
She’s good, Sass sent.
Is this wise? Galleytrot’s worry wasn’t surprising.
He has to accept his magic, I sent. Of all people, I know how hard it can be to fight against what won’t be ignored. But Gabriel’s power is vast and, to this point, mostly unknown to us. We have no idea what he’s capable of, not really. I was far more worried about that truth than I let on to either of the pair. He has to regain control.
So you can find the rest of Creator’s pieces. I sensed no animosity or accusation in Galleytrot’s words, but the sting was there, regardless.
So my son can find balance and be at peace with his magic, I sent, a bit more firmly than I intended. And so he can fulfill his destiny and yes, find the pieces. I sighed in my head. As much as I hate the idea of doing to my kids what Mom did to me, I understand there are no choices here. Sass didn’t comment, but he didn’t have to, not from the smug push of his power. I let it go as I went on, while Ameline and Gabriel whispered together, Ethie looking back and forth between them with a mix of awe and jealousy. He has a talent no one else has. He was born with it on purpose, for a purpose. And yes, he’s only seven years old. Way to break your own heart, Hayle. He’s my son. And I’ll shield him from harm for as long as I can. But, if my past has taught me anything, it’s that there are times when we just don’t get to say no.
Well said, Sass muttered while Galleytrot nodded.
I know, the big hound sent. I just wish… he’s so good, Syd.
He is, I sent. But he’s not his father.
“Mom.” Gabriel glanced up at me, the whisper huddle over. “Ameline is going to help me open a Gate.”
Um. What? “Here? Now?” Is that a good idea? My turn to worry. I sent the question directly into her spirit’s mind.
I believe it is, she sent. I have access to power you don’t here, ancient power that has been waiting for Gabriel for a very long time. It will protect him from the other Universe and the Order, as it did the night I tried to bring Dark Brother across.
It did? That stunned me. But it failed.
No, she sent. Had the magic of this place not been fighting with all the power it had, Dark Brother would have emerged the moment Gabriel opened the Gateway to the other Universe.
That was… good to know.
Let me recruit some backup first, I sent. And reached into the veil. It was only then, now I knew what I was looking for, I felt the full touch of the power of the maji chamber and my heart stopped for a single beat.
Not power, not a cohesive whole. Souls, millions of them. The core and power of every single blood maji born to this plane, embedded in the heart of the maji chamber. But not just this one. I could feel them, now, the five others spread out around the world, in far off places. One under a pyramid in Egypt, hidden under the Valley of the Kings. Another in the Orient, not far from Hong Kong. A deep recess in a remote part of England. Amazing and beautiful, this network of magic. Perhaps I was only now able to see because I was aware, or perhaps because they were finally willing to let me. For Gabriel.
Max. I touched the drach leader’s mind easily. He felt tired, but perked at the contact.
What have you found? A brief glimpse from his point of view gave me a rush of vertigo. He was flying over a green river, bright purple grass crushed by the fallen bodies of a large group of creatures while the other drach circled below, cleaning up the survivors.
More intruders? I should have been there with him—
My kids needed me—
Damn it.
Indeed, he sent. A rather troublesome group we’ve only just conquered. He couldn’t have known where my mind had gone or Max would never have added fuel to my self-flagellating fire by making such a comment. I crushed my guilt at needing to be in ten places at once as he went on. You’re in the maji chamber?
I am, I sent. With Gabriel. He wants to try opening a Gateway with Ameline’s help.
This was the first time since my son almost allowed Dark Brother’s vast, frightening army through to our side I had hope my son would succeed. He’d tried and failed in the past, though a huge part of me knew that failure came from his unwillingness to embrace his magic completely. Considering even Max was afraid of the Order, I hardly blamed Gabriel. And yet, we needed this. If we could use his power as intended, to find the pieces of Creator and put an end to the threat of Dark Brother and the other Universe, we wouldn’t have to worry about a super army coming to wipe us from creation.
I was all for that. And, from the instant reaction I had from Max, so was he.
I’m on my way, he sent. I let him go only a breath before the veil parted and the massive form of the drach leader stepped through. There was always a moment when he transformed from his dragon body to humanoid I sensed the two of them living together, as though the dragon still existed, only hiding behind a veneer of humanity. I really knew so little about the drach, it was all supposition that would have to wait for the day I actually had time to ask questions.
Max bowed to my kids, to Ameline, before doing the same to Galleytrot and Sassafras. When his diamond eyes met mine, I saw eagerness there and felt better for calling him.
“Gabriel,” he said in his rumbling voice. “Do not fear your power. We are far from the Stronghold.”
“I know,” my son said. “I’m sorry I’ve been so afraid. But, I think I’ll be okay now.” He squeezed Ameline’s hand. “I want to try.”
We have no time to set a trap, Max sent to me. Should we wait?
I’d hate to stop him now, I sent. We need to let him do this.
Very well, Max sent. And I agree. But we must prepare for the appearance of opposition, though we were sorely not in our last hunt. Belaisle’s appearance had been a massive shock, no more so than the disappearance of an entire race and their plane. I tried not to think of Trill’s betrayal in that distant world as my son released his hold on Ameline and drew a breath.
We’ll deal with it if he shows, I sent to Max. I hope he does. Belaisle is mine.
Gabriel’s power had a distinctive feel to it, a swelling crescendo, subtle but filled with not only the freshness of earth and spring but with the weight of the power he gained from the Gate of the Sidhe. As the air beside him sparkled and pushed outward, an arched opening shimmering into life, I found more goosebumps crawling over my skin. I’d encountered all kinds of magic, but never felt anything quite so primal, so pure as his.
I stared, feeling a bit stupid, while the Gateway settled and the scene on the other side formed. How strange I felt a bit disappointed by the view of darkness and stars in the sky, some broken masonry on the ground the only decoration in sight.
“There, Mom.” Gabriel rubbed gooseb
umps from his little arms. “This place has been calling to me. I just didn’t want to answer.” Verification his “couldn’t” was “wouldn’t” when it came to opening Gates.
“A piece of Creator lies there,” Max said, happiness in his rumbling voice. “I can feel its presence, even through the Gate.” He smiled at my son. “Well done, Gabriel.”
Max didn’t hesitate, his power reaching forward. And, when he turned to me with his sparkling gaze alight with his own magic, I knew it was true. Gabriel had done it again.
Confidence rising, I joined the drach leader and stepped through the Gateway.
***
Chapter Twenty Four
Max paused on the other side, waiting for me. I drew a breath, coughing out the dank scent of decay so different from the fresher air of the maji chamber. The atmosphere on this plane felt old, as though the oxygen was almost used up, some contamination poisoning it slowly. Death clung to every breath, though my magic kept me safe. Crumbling walls greeted us as we slowly made our way deeper into the gloom of night, a single moon overhead dull in the thickness of the gray that wasn’t quite clouds. I stumbled before my demon, her power hushed and soft, leaped to my defense, her night vision bringing everything into focus. I looked down at the hunk of rusted metal jutting from the crumbling earth that had almost knocked me over, sharp edge dulled by age.
“This world is dying.” Max’s usually musical voice held sadness.
“Our fault?” I didn’t know how many more messes I could take responsibility for. I shivered though temperature didn’t affect me these days, rubbing my arms against the chill of a thin breeze pushing more ill scent toward us.
“No,” he answered, turning and striding off, though not at his typical long legged pace. He folded his big hands together inside the cuffs of his gray robe, head down, diamond eyes dim. “The death of a plane happens from time to time. The resources meant to last until the end of days are either used up by those who inhabit it or a flaw in its makeup drives it downward to its rest.”
I thought of my own home plane and how quickly our people seemed to be devouring all of the available consumables. And shuddered. I could escape a fate like this one, go to another plane that didn’t suffer such degradation. But what about the rest of humanity? Big picture things like that just made my brain hurt.
Max paused at the crest of a low hill, looking down over the decaying remains of what had to have been a vast city at some point. Buildings reminiscent of ones I was familiar with at home squatted low to the ground, some fallen on their sides, into their neighbors, masonry dominoes, fallen giants. The earth seemed to have risen up to claim them, though the expected encroachment of vegetation was missing. Only a few scrubby bushes and the occasional spindly tree marked places where living things still grew. I bit my lower lip to keep in my emotions. We were here for a purpose, to fetch a missing piece of Creator, not to mourn the passing of a plane. And yet, it was hard not to feel the crushing emptiness of this place, to allow its slow and inevitable end to seep into my bones, to make me ache for its loss.
“This is horrible,” I whispered, lacking in eloquence if not in feeling.
“Indeed,” Max said, just as softly. “The winding down of a world often is.”
I heard them long before they came into view, felt their approach easily, distinguishing their pale sparks of life from the death all around us. I held my ground, Max with me, as a small group of people exited the shadows and darkness and oozed toward us. They had once looked like my own people, two arms, two legs, though they seemed to have skin the color of ash and a second pair of ears I could only assume served some evolutionary purpose they no longer required. Their clothing, as ragged and filthy as it was, wouldn’t have been out of place back home. I clenched my teeth against further emotion as the small group came to a nervous halt in front of us, while still more of their number crept around to circle the place where we stood.
But I felt no threat from them, just the waking of curiosity long lost and, perhaps, the vaguest flicker of hope.
She would have been taller than me if she stood to her full height. But despair had curved the woman’s shoulders forward, pushed her long skeleton down, compressed her physically as well as spiritually. And yet, her voice was clear as she spoke, my power translating her language to one I could understand.
“The last days have come, then.” She only had eyes for Max. “Will it be over quickly, my god? Or will we see it trickle outward to the end?”
Max bowed his head to her, offered his hand. She moaned in what sounded like sorrow, but when she grasped his offered fingers she kissed them, pressed them to her cheek while the others sighed as one.
“I am not who you await,” he said, so gentle and kind I had to look away for fear of weeping. “Your time has not yet come.”
She cried out, pulled on his hand. “My god,” she said, a wail in her voice. “I beg you, end it now! We can’t go on this way. We must depart and our world with us.”
Max’s mind reached for me and, for the first time since I met him, I felt desperation and the most terrible sorrow, the sadness of an ancient soul who had seen too much. What do I say?
He was asking me? And yet, here was my amazing drach friend, leader of the first race, leaning on me for help. How could I not do my best?
I stepped forward, catching the woman’s attention. She backed away from Max, dropping his hand, eyes huge, lower set of ears quivering.
“When the time comes,” I said, “you will know it. There will be no doubt. And you will see your salvation.” I don’t know why I told her that. Except most religions and beliefs held some vision of heaven and it was the best I could think of on short notice. Guilt at offering false prophecy ate at me as much as the poison in the cloying air, but I was grasping at straws here.
It had the right impact. She lunged for me, hugged me. “Thank you,” she whispered before turning to the others, arms raised, voice triumphant. “The Respite is coming!”
They cheered, a thin sound, but with enough hope in it I had to reach for Max. His hand was cold in mine, his skin rough as his scales emerged. They know the drach, I sent.
Most races do, he sent. Including yours. Dragons. Right.
We had the wrong idea, I sent. Thinking you gold hoarding figments of childhood imagination. Nice to distract with a conversation about cultural shifts.
Indeed, he sent. Likely thanks to the Brotherhood. But I can assume this race made gods of us, at least in the end.
Can we do anything for them? I tried to smile back at the woman as she turned to me, gestured for us to follow.
We cannot, Max sent, going after her. Their time is almost over.
How close is almost? I joined Max as he trod the path down toward the city, keeping my gaze on the back of her head and not on the crumbling buildings around me.
No one knows, he sent. Likely a few years. It appears there is little vegetation and less to eat. Unless they’ve found some storehouse of old food, I would say they are the final generation.
This sucks, I sent, heart hurting, mind whirling from the implications.
The worst part of being immortal, he agreed, squeezing my hand. But a weight we must bear.
Is it safe to go with them? I didn’t want to have to fight my way out past a bunch of god worshipping and desperate survivors of a post-apocalyptic world. Too Hollywood for my taste.
We have no choice, he sent. The piece we seek is in the direction she takes us.
Good to know.
We didn’t have far to walk. And though I hesitated to go underground, the woman and her people showed no qualms and Max’s grip on me gave me little option. The gaping opening allowed little light so even my demon’s vision struggled to adapt. When it finally did, I found myself in a cave system, like a maze, with endless corridors heading off right and left.
No, Syd. Not a maze. Dear elements. An underground parking garage.
Shudder.
One glimpse into the filthy winds
hield of what vaguely resembled a car and the grinning skull face on the other side spun my head around and kept my focus once again on the woman’s bobbing head. Whispering echoes emerged in answer to my fear, but they were as thin and tattered as the rest of this world. Where ghosts normally plagued me with substance and demands, this plane was so far gone the echoes of the lost barely had a breath to release in my ear.
Still disconcerting. And creeped me the hell out. Yes, I was an all-powerful maji and stuff. But, yikes. Thank goodness Max was with me or I would have died right then and there from a giant case of the willies.
I was so focused on our guide I almost ran into her when she stopped. Max’s hand held me back, shaking me out of my intense need to ignore the echoes around me. She turned and smiled at us while her people shuffled their way into the larger space. They’d moved some of the cars out of the way, made a circular area with a fire pit in the center. Stacks of old crates sat to one side, blankets and other gear scattered about. This was their home, where they lived.
From cave men to huge, powerful civilization to cave men again. So tragic.
“We knew you would come.” She gestured at the edge of the circle where one of the cars stood. Something shining and white sat within the open back door. Max took a step toward it, dropping my hand and even I forgot to be afraid as I realized they’d led us right to what we sought. “We found it, knew it would bring you here.” She clasped her hands under her chin in rapture. “The Respite is near.”
Another cheer, this one more enthusiastic. Did they see Max’s interest in the piece as proof they would soon have their salvation? If so, it was the meanest of tricks we were about to pull on them, to steal it out from under them and leave them thinking they were going to a better place, only to suffer and linger and hate us, ultimately, for lying to them.
I can’t do this. I sent the words to Max in a lash of panic. He spun back to me, brow furrowed. They think we’re going to save them.
