You cared about Master Dogan, and look where that got you.
It wasn’t a demon voice—or at least not one from the demon world—just one of the voices in my head that never seemed to have anything good to say.
Yeah, look where it got me. A wise mentor and friend that I’m honored to have known.
It was true. He was worth the pain. So were the rest of my friends. So was my mother. Maybe that was the secret—finding the people that were worth the hurt.
“On three?” I said, like I had earlier when we’d been about to jump down to the demon world.
“Sure,” Kat said. “Three.”
She jumped, looking every inch the warrior that she was.
“You heard the woman,” Taren said, squeezing my hand. “Ready?”
“We’re about to find out,” I said.
We jumped together, Taren and I, hands clasped tightly together. Wind whipped by us, but we remained buffered by the energetic bubble I’d wrapped us in. I could feel Cole and the Dahr—Zoe—a dozen yards above us, also falling.
I broke Kat’s fall, and a moment later Taren and I joined her on the cracked earth of the demon world. Kat’s hair whipped in the wind, and she plugged her nose as she gagged. I extended the bubble to include her.
“Well, that’s handy,” she said, smoothing her wild hair and wrapping it in the elastic she wore on her wrist.
Cole and Zoe landed, and we merged our bubbles. The area around us was quiet, but I knew that wouldn’t last. The demons I’d seen were waiting on an order from a Root, and then they’d mobilize.
“There’s something you need to see,” I said, and showed both Taren and Cole what I’d seen through the Dahrak’s eyes.
Both of them cursed, and Zoe grunted, while Kat said, “What is it? Tell me.”
I did, and she cursed too.
“You both are powerful,” Taren said. “But what you just showed us…”
“I know,” I said. “We need the Colony and all of Cole’s people.”
“No we don’t,” Cole said. “If we did, they’d be here. We’ll work with what we have.”
“What about Michele?” Kat asked.
“She’s on her way,” I said. “She’s bringing anyone she thinks can help.”
“What about the Dahraks?” Taren said. “Aren’t there still some down here who are on our side?”
“That’s what Cara told me,” Cole said. “But I don’t know where they are, and precise communication with Zoe is…difficult.”
“What about Darys and Lukos?” I said.
“Both up top, keeping the Dahraks that didn’t turn against us in line,” Cole said. “It would be dangerous to take them away from that duty.”
“OK,” I said. “We’ll wait until Michele gets here and then—”
Something in the distance caught my eye and I blinked, unsure if what I was seeing was real. Could it be…?
“The Colony,” Cole said, his voice as awed as I felt. “With Sadah, and Aryn, and—”
“We are so going to win,” I said, feeling almost giddy.
“They’re all Daemons?” Kat said, squinting.
“I think that’s why they’re floating,” Taren said, his relief palpable.
And they were. Nearly all of the Colony members—fifty at least—plus all of Cole’s people except for Grae floated quickly toward us. They landed effortlessly, all of us now enveloped in the same bubble.
Cole got to Sadah a split-second before I did, so first I went to Aldous.
“I thought you were ready to meet your fate,” I said with a smile.
“Fates change,” he said with a twinkle in his eye that reminded me of Master Dogan.
I went to Sadah then. “How is Grae?”
“Perfect,” she said, beaming. “He is with the other children back at the Colony. A handful of elders were left behind to watch over them and evacuate them from the island if necessary.”
“Does that Gateway hold?” I said.
“For now,” Aryn answered. “But nowhere will be safe for long if we do not finish this.”
“We’ve got company,” Taren said, suddenly back on high alert.
The group of us turned to see tens of thousands of demons advancing.
“Well, that’s not terrifying at all,” Kat said, her eyes wide with fear.
“It’s OK,” I told her. “We’ve got this, trust me. Just stay back and catch any strays that come your way.”
“No problem,” she said, swallowing hard.
Taren turned to me and said, “Be—”
“This isn’t the time to be careful,” I said.
“I wasn’t going to say be careful,” he said, and kissed the top of my head. “I was going to say, ‘be brave.’”
I smiled. “Good hunting,” I said.
“Good hunting,” he replied, squeezing my shoulder. “Now go do what you do.”
“On my mark,” I said, squaring off to face the onslaught. They were marching hard, only two hundred yards between them and us. “Now!”
I sent bolt after bolt of lightning into the mass, frying dozens of demons at a time. The others used the skills they were strongest in. In some spots the earth erupted, swallowing Dahraks whole, in others, Birds were slammed into the snakes below, killing both. Huge boulders rolled at high speeds into the crowd—bowling for demons, as it were.
The more I killed, the better I felt. Not so much because of the killing, but because of the power I was wielding. That feeling—the dangerous and seductive superhuman feeling—was circling around me, and I had to hold tightly to my control of the Chasm, or risk it controlling me. I was becoming one with everything around me, even the demons as they died. I was in ecstasy and agony at the same time.
A Root spoke to me. Or tried to. Instead of blocking its sending, I grabbed it and used it as a conduit for the Chasm, sending enough power that I felt its brain turn to pudding.
Four down, five to go, I thought.
Time passed, and I realized something: The Chasm might be inexhaustible, but I wasn’t. I felt myself sag with fatigue, and noticed the other Daemons doing the same. More and more, a Dahrak or a group of Monkeys got by as and had to be taken care of by Taren and Kat. Even they were moving more slowly. But still, the onslaught kept coming. It was a never-ending stream—as if every demon in existence were marching toward us.
“They are,” Michele said, having read my mind. When had she gotten here? “I glimpsed their thoughts. Three of the remaining Roots have joined forces and have brought every one of their minions.”
What had seemed like a sure thing an hour ago now seemed tenuous at best. I drank more deeply from the Chasm. I had to end this. Before long, Cole and the other Daemons would run out of strength. I would be the only one who still had access to power. I had to stay strong. And I had to kill the Roots. With them out of the way, most of the lesser demons would scatter, giving us time to regroup and pick them off.
Dozens more Guardians arrived and began killing demon after demon, keeping the rest of us from being overrun. Crystle and Callie were there too, using the Chasm. Our coffee sessions had paid off. Madison and Bridget—who were Guardians-in-Training—had been eager to learn as well, and from the skillful way they were fighting, seemed to be combining both disciplines seamlessly. If we survived, it would be a whole new era for the Institute.
Yes, if you survive, said a Root. I wasn’t bothering to shield my thoughts. I needed all of my strength for dealing with the demons, and any Root dumb enough to access my mind was in for an unpleasant surprise.
Allow me, Michele said, then followed the thread from her mind to mine, and into that of the Root. I felt its brain explode off in the distance.
Nice one, I told her as thousands of demons began to scatter.
“What is that?” Kat said, breathless and pointing.
I followed her finger and saw what looked like a giant black cyclone headed straight for us.
55
Up to that point, we’d been sh
ielded from the biting wind of the demon world, but our bubble couldn’t shield us from this. Wind whipped around us now, so strong it threatened to lift us from our feet.
“I think it’s a Root,” I said.
I sent a powerful bolt into it only to have it disappear into the blackness. I sent another, and, if anything, the cyclone swirled faster.
“What do we do?” Taren shouted above the din of what sounded like a freight train coming at us.
“Take cover,” I shouted back.
All of us scattered, diving under boulders and into cracks in the earth. Taren grabbed my arm and pulled me into one such crack—a deep fissure big enough to hold a dozen of us. Taren used his whole body to shield mine, and with my eyes closed right against his chest, I felt the cyclone above us. The earth shook and the ground opened, leaving us all scrambling not to be swallowed into its depths. I felt myself being pulled, as if I were being sucked up into the thing, and I clung more tightly to Taren than I ever had. But he was being pulled, too. How long would we be able to hang on?
I opened my eyes a fraction, and saw that everyone was fighting the same force. Richard clung tightly to Gretchen next to us, but his muscles strained painfully against the pull.
Link!
It was Cole. I opened to him and a second later Michele and Sadah were there, too. I let Cole direct the power—my lightning certainly wasn’t the answer. More and more Daemons joined us, and soon I realized what Cole was trying to do.
The spinning of the cyclone slowed—a fraction at first, but the more Daemons joined our circle, the more powerful we became.
The cyclone—a Root to end all Roots—hovered above us. It was no longer spinning, but it shook violently. I could feel its rage at being contained.
Now what? I asked Cole.
How did you kill a cyclone?
Before he could answer, Richard shouted, “Incoming!”
And there were. Thousands upon thousands of demons who had been stopped by the spinning Root now bore down upon us.
“Snakes!” Kat shouted, hacking and slashing at her feet.
Snakes slithered up from the depths of the crack, sending us all scrambling out of it. All around us, Guardians battled demon after demon, hopelessly outmatched. My power linked to Cole, I couldn’t help with the fight. None of the Daemons could.
“Dad!” Taren screamed, and I looked over to see Richard, eyes wide, looking down at the blood spilling from his belly. He sank to his knees.
“No!” Gretchen cried. She knelt beside him and began putting pressure on the wound.
More and more Guardians were falling at the hands—and claws, and teeth—of demons. They were gaining ground and within minutes we’d be overrun.
What do we do? I said to Cole and anyone else listening.
You die, came the reply. It was a Root, but not the one hovering above us. This one was off in the distance somewhere.
Cole took a fraction of the energy he held and melted its brain. I heard it scream as it died.
Taren was at his father’s side now, and I rushed to them.
“Take care of your mother,” Richard said, his words a painful staccato. He was as white as a sheet.
“That’s your job,” Taren said. “Don’t give up.” He turned to me and said, “We have to get him out of here.”
We all had to get out of there. The cyclone Root was vibrating so hard it made my teeth rattle. It was stronger than all of us put together. We weren’t going to be able to contain it much longer. We had to end this or we’d all die.
I seized control of the power from Cole and with one hand sent dozens of lightning bolts into the mass of demons. With the other, I sent a bolt as wide as a truck into the Root above us, which was the exact wrong thing to do. Instead of exploding, it absorbed the bolt and flung it back at us, sending us diving for cover. Link after link snapped, and the Root spun furiously above us.
I was being pulled, lifted from my feet and into the cyclone. Taren grabbed my hand but the pull was too strong. Fingertip by fingertip, his grip broke.
“I love you,” I said, and was sucked into the cyclone.
Nietzsche once said, “When you stare into the abyss, the abyss stares back into you,” and in that moment, I knew exactly what he meant.
The Root had only taken me, and it was images from my life that flashed in the swirling blackness all around me. Below me I could no longer see the ground, just a spinning whirlpool.
Let it look into me, I thought. What other hell could it show me?
The answer came quickly when I was sucked into a vision—an unwilling participant.
The skyscrapers of Los Angeles stood tall around me. I found myself on a street, deserted except for a cluster of homeless people lying in an arched doorway. The only working streetlight buzzed and flickered, then went out.
Inside I was still me, but my outer form began to twist, my flesh burning until it charred. My vision narrowed and everything became tinged with red. My heart thumped wildly in my chest. No, no, not this, not now. My jaw flexed, rows of jagged teeth cutting the inside of my mouth as it did. What started as a scream warped into a deep, guttural sound.
A rumbling that began in my stomach traveled my whole body and I shook with...hunger. Before I could stop myself, I was moving, lurching toward the two men and one woman, wrapped in filthy blankets.
No, stop! I commanded my body. But each step came quicker, and a moment later, I towered over the sleeping bodies.
Slimy black drool dripped from my mouth and splattered the ear of the woman, waking her. She wiped at the sticky goo and turned her eyes upward, into what was left of mine. The woman screamed, and as she did, I was simultaneously aware of three things: the terror in her eyes, the irresistibly delicious scent of her fear, and that I was about to devour my own mother.
I fought back against the hallucination. In no world—not even a fake one—would I hurt my mother that way. And if I ever did become a Dahrak, I wouldn’t be running the streets; Taren had promised me that.
The more I doubted the vision, the more transparent it became, until finally it fell away.
The power of the Chasm still rushed through me but I didn’t dare use it. How could I fight a demon that could use all of my power against me?
For another moment I swirled and tumbled, but then a new vision pulled me.
A nightclub—the Whiskey a Go-Go on Sunset Boulevard. Apparently it was metal night. Not just metal, but what my mom called hair metal—from the eighties. Guys with mullets and girls with big hair danced while a singer in tight spandex pants and too much hairspray pranced around on stage.
What the hell was I doing there?
I spun around and locked eyes with a man across the room. In that way of dreams—where you know who a person is, even if they don’t look like the way the do in real life—I knew that I was looking at my father.
I have his eyes, I thought.
Before I knew what I was doing, I ran across the room.
“Hey,” I said, smiling.
“Well, ‘hey,’ yourself,” he said with a grin. “Buy you a drink?”
“What? No,” I said, confused. “Dad, it’s me. It’s Ember. I’m your daughter.”
The man took a step back and held up his hands. “Whoa, kid, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Of course he didn’t. How could he?
“It’s OK, I don’t want anything,” I said. “I just saw you and I wanted to meet you.”
“Look, I’m not your father, understand? No glove, no love.”
But he was my father. I knew that he was.
“Look, Dad, look at what I can do,” I said, and lifted a glass from the bar and let it hover in front of him. “See, I’m just like you—”
His eyes went wide and he said, “Listen, kid, it’s time for you to go. You ain’t mine, but even if you were, I don’t want nothin’ to do with whatever that is.”
He turned his back on me and I felt my eyes sting with tears. Growing
up, I’d tried to never let myself think about who my father was or what he was like. I’d always known that was a dead end. But once I’d learned that he was at least part Daemon, I couldn’t help but think that maybe someday, with the help of the Institute and the Colony, I might find him.
But in my fantasy he’d been happy to see him, proud of who I was.
My own father, how could he…?
But then I realized what was happening. This Root was looking for my Achilles heel. My biggest fear. My inner demon. But realizing what it was looking for made me think of it, and the scene that rose around me turned my veins to ice.
I was alone in a room that was covered in dingy padding, with no windows except for a small one on the door. I tugged at my arms, bound in a straightjacket, and struggled to stand. I was heavily drugged, and I stumbled, and falling painfully on my shoulder.
I had to get out of here.
Again I stood, wobbly but upright. I made it to the window where I stood on my toes, struggling to see out.
“Hello?” I said.
No answer.
“Hello?” I said again. “I’m…I’m not crazy. You can let me out.”
Laughter answered me this time. “Sure,” said a voice. “I’ll get right on that.”
I’d always thought my biggest fear was becoming my own mother, but this was far, far worse.
“No, I mean it,” I said, beginning to panic. “I’m OK, really. Send in the doctor. Please.”
I leaned against the padded wall, too drowsy to stand on my own.
The lock clicked and when the door opened, it was Master Dogan standing there.
“Oh, thank God,” I said. Something tickled the back of my mind—something that said he wasn’t supposed to be there—but I was so happy to see him that I pushed it aside. “Thank you for coming to get me.”
Master Dogan looked at me quizzically, but then said in a stern voice, “Miss Lyons, you know the rules. Step back from the door. We don’t want a repeat of yesterday’s spitting incident.”
Spitting incident?
I stepped back awkwardly.
“Master Dogan, I don’t know what’s going on—”
The Gateway Trilogy: Complete Series: (Books 1-3) Page 57
