And instinctually, I knew it was what Lacit sought.
“What—what is that?” I breathed, feeling Arial shake next to me. And instead of Lola’s voice, I heard her answer.
“Death,” she breathed, the whites of her eyes like beacons in the storm as we marched forwards.
“How did you know that?” snapped Lola, turning sharply to face Arial.
“Because it all makes sense. Everything, all the pieces fit. And you’re not the only one with half a wit around here, Lola.”
“Then one of you explain it to me, because apparently, I’m the odd one out,” I said, eyeing the darkness warily as its form came into focus. An enormous tree, one the exact same shape as the center of Lola’s village.
“As I’ve stated,” Lola started as we started walking towards the tree, and it felt as if we were wading in a river, against the flow of water. “The other side and this world form a reaction to each other. Where there is natural light here, there is darkness there. Heat to cold. And the longer a difference exists, the longer it is cultivated, the stronger the reaction.
“To understand this, think about when the two sides are similar. If I were to start a fire here, and a fire there—well, without intervention, the wouldn’t go out—or it would go out very slowly. It’s this intertwining that made Peregrine’s teleportation stable and rare, through a mixing of existence on both sides that kept each other in equilibrium. But if I were to start a fire on only one side, the other would slowly grow icy and cold as the worlds start to push apart, reacting against each other. For instance, on the other side, the arctic is a form of scorching desert, and magma is similar to freezing springs. Even now, if you look to the battle, you can already see frost forming from the actions of the enemy Flamethrowers.”
“Exactly,” said Arial, her voice accusatory she pointed towards the dark tree ahead. “And what they’ve done here is devise a bioweapon.”
“Devise, no,” corrected Lola, squinting to search for the forms of Lacit and Waela, her expression concerned. “But discover, yes. Prune, grow, and perfect, yes.”
“I still don’t get it,” I said, starting as I thought I saw dark forms and realized it was only a momentary coalescence of ash, my skin prickling. “What is it?”
“Here in the Amazon, we have the greatest degree of life on earth,” answered Lola. “We took that life, and we amplified it. Our Vibrants poured it back into the forest, they fertilized our massive tree, they built gardens in its roots and harbored an ecosystem that has existed for thousands of years. And with time, the other side reacted, building a resistance to their efforts. A resistance to life itself, fighting against all that we are.”
“Death,” concluded Arial once more, and Lola nodded.
“Pure death, only accessible by the hands of a Transient, in this location. For our defense, of course—for at its roots, our greatest soldiers, the Deathguards, are born. And Lacit has come here for one of the tree’s seeds.”
Chapter 105
“There!” shouted Arial and took our hands once more. Then she jumped forwards, dragging us behind her as we soared behind her in a giant leap, bounding through the darkness. And far ahead, I could just barely make out their silhouettes—two figures with ash that split around them like wakes, billowing out in an enormous triangle that marked their presence.
Our feet met the ground and Arial bounded ahead again, light as a feather, carrying us another hundred yards forwards. Instinctively, two dark orbs leapt into my fists, rapidly swelling as they consumed the flying ash. At the end of the second bound, Arial released Lola, leaping once more to carry me in full racing flight above Lacit, and I fired the orbs as we had trained.
He sensed them an instant before they struck him, throwing up a protective Telekenetic barrier that caught one and deflected the other, though the explosions still knocked Waela clean off her feet. Arial looped around as I generated two more orbs, catching my breath from creating them so quickly, and we hovered fifty feet in front of Lacit, between him and the tree. Behind, Lola sprinted to cover the right flank to prevent circumvention, her body shimmering as she watched both worlds at the same time.
“Three versus two,” stated Lacit. “Your numbers are significantly less than last time, and your cumulative powers are weaker. Do you really intend to stop me here?” He nodded to Lola, and said in a voice so casual, it sounded like he was discussing dinner. “I’ll kill her first, you know. Then the Flyer. Then you, of course. With this, I no longer have need of you—surely, this can cause far more destruction than you ever could. It’s greater than I imagined.”
“Which is all you seem to care about,” I shouted back, letting my orbs grow in power. “Destruction.”
“Oh, but the contrary. But a forest must burn before it is regrown. Burning is, after all, a part of nature. There is debris to clear. We’ve been over this, child, and I’m growing weary of explaining.”
“You can’t just remove whoever you don’t like.” I answered, the orbs growing heavy. I’d need to make them as massive as possible for the biggest explosion, to stave him off until help arrived. Until the Deathguard returned.
“Ah, but I can,” he said and stepped forwards while Arial glided backwards, keeping our distance constant. “But I won’t. As I’m sure you have guessed, that tree behind you will kill at a mere touch—as a powder, I alone could eliminate entire cities with my power. But more importantly, I think of the powers of those born under it. I am one, but they are many. As I said, however, we won’t be killing those I don’t like—actually, liking has nothing to do with it. We’ll kill plenty I do like.”
“Then you’re a maniac,” spat Arial behind me.
“Look around you! Does any of this look normal? We’re all maniacs here!” He laughed, his voice shrill and unchecked, “But no, I learned, long ago, there are those too weak to defend themselves. When my father was laid to waste by powers and couldn’t raise a finger to defend himself, but I walked out unscathed. The strong survive, yet the weak suffer. But why should we let them suffer? Why should we spend our resources on their life support, their pain? Why not just end it all for them, in one glorious act of mercy?”
Chills ran down my spine, though whether it was the proximity of the tree or Lacit’s words that caused it, I did not know.
“The powerless,” I said, my heart thumping. “That’s your plan? To kill the powerless?”
“The weak,” he answered, his lip curling. “The powerless are but a few. Imagine a world where all are high powered, where all are self-sufficient. It’s simple Darwinism—why not accelerate it? Why let them suffer at the hands of their own inadequacy? Sooner or later, they will die—I am simply the doctor with the morphine to ease them into it. In the past, they’ve had protectors, powerful protectors who would stand against us. But few will stare down death for the life of another. And those that do, is that not their weakness? For they too will be struck down.”
“Then you’ll need to start with me,” I said, raising the orbs.
“And me!” echoed both Arial and Lola.
And far above us, there was a mighty crack accompanied by a flash as a figure drifted down, streamers of multicolored light erupting off his skin to follow him. Something about him whined as he came closer, like a mosquito or grinding of gears, and the light erupted off his skin like solar flares, arcing out sporadically with no control. Throwing his hands down, two more dark orbs popped into existence at his fists, and he fixed Lacit with a defiant stare while descending next to Lola.
“And me,” declared Darian, having finally broken through to the other side.
Chapter 106
“Just how many of these can you fend off?” challenged Darian, tossing a dark sphere into the air. There was something wrong with it—it fizzed, the surface almost boiling, feeling like a static wave across space. It reminded me of Peregrine’s machine in the subway, the same feeling of nausea pulling at my stomach, unsettling me. My thoughts raced as I studied him, knowing full well th
at Darian had never been able to generate dark spheres on his own in the past, and certainly shouldn’t be able to fly while doing so. But I pushed the thoughts away, focusing on Lacit, whose eyes were scanning the ground.
“Not many projectiles for you to use, eh?” Darian continued, a physical pulse extending away from him as he flexed, and Arial instinctively floated a few feet farther away.
“What’s going on with him?” she hissed, shaking slightly. Even she could sense it—something wrong.
“Can’t say,” I answered, allowing myself a quick sideways glance to see the colors still streaming off his skin like steam. “It feels—It feels broken.”
“Then we should help him,” she insisted, and we drifted closer, but I grabbed her wrist tight, bending her arm to steer her backwards.
“Not just broken, but dangerous. And dangerous might be just what we need right now.”
Ahead, Lacit had stopped, his eyes narrowing as he stared at Darian, his nose wrinkling in distaste.
“A mere Mimic,” he insulted. “I have armies of Mimics, most can’t even stand to be around me. You’ll burn yourself out. Already I can see you unwinding.”
A crease came across Lacit’s forehead, and he closed his eyes for a moment, as if struggling with a thought. But then he shook his head to clear it and laughed, his knowing voice cutting through the air.
“But you have no idea what you’ve done, do you? I’ll offer you the same as the freak,” he nodded towards me, “since you’re a freak now as well. You have two choices—we fight or you join me. Are you tired of going hungry? Of second-rate services, of always coming last? You’re always following him, aren’t you—and you’ll always be that if you stay, a follower, a repeater, a shadow. This is your chance to become your own person, not a mere copy of something greater.”
Darian looked as if he had been struck and bristled before Lola stepped up from behind him.
“Is this always your strategy when you’re scared?” she demanded. “I’ve read about this, I know as well as you about this phenomenon, fractonis essentia. At least your reaction is appropriate; you should be terrified.”
She turned intangible for a moment as a particularly bright arc of light burst from Darian, cutting through where she had been only a moment before, then she pulled his shirt forwards in a charge. Darian threw his spheres, and they crackled as they soared, sounding more like a string of firecrackers than the usual stick of dynamite. Arial and I followed, and I launched my own, so heavy that we lurched as I released them.
Four explosions erupted around Lacit as he crossed his arms and raised them, the light searing his skin but rebounding away from him in bands of violent dark energy. With a roar that made the arteries on his neck bulge, he hurled them at Darian in a vortex faster than a baseball pitch, a whirling torpedo that distorted space itself. Instinctively, Darian drew a breath before crossing his own arms, taking in Lacit’s own power as the energy broke apart in a wake around him, but the distortions in space still bringing him to a stagger. Then he threw his arms forwards, and the parted dark streams wheeled to form a crosshairs on Lacit, who dissipated the energy just before it reached its mark.
Every muscle in Darian’s body strained, every vein popped, his eyes open so wide it looked like they were about to leap from his head. With a concerted effort, he lowered his arms, the arcs of light jumping from his so bright it hurt to look at him, and to stand at his side, Lola had to remain semi-transparent.
“You think you can contain my power?” sneered Lacit. “This power has broken many others before you.”
“Then it’s time it breaks you!” Darian yelled, his voice cracking, throwing his shoulders back as he strode forwards.
“Oh, but it already has,” answered Lacit and met his challenge.
Chapter 107
As Darian approached, I threw two force points far ahead of him in the same tactics the Mimics had used on me only an hour before. Swaying, Lacit started to rise into the air, the bent space throwing him off balance. But then he threw his hand downwards, and I felt the pressure of his will combined with his power as he anchored himself to the ground, his heels dropping with a thud. His focus divided, he turned to Darian with newfound intensity, while Lola charged at Waela behind him, her spear outstretched.
“Traitor!” she shouted, taking a jab, but Waela flickered away, reappearing with both arms on the spear. With an elbow, she jabbed at Lola, meeting nothing but air, before Lola reemerged with a kick to her shins. She cried out, pulling as she tripped Lola, both of them falling to the ground as Lola spun to regain the advantage, pressing down from above her.
Beside them, Darian and Lacit fought, trading blows from the dwindling remaining energy of any dark orbs. I hesitated to throw any more, knowing it would only fuel the fight as they snatched them from the air after they left my control. But so long as I held tight to the orbs, Lacit’s power could latch hold of the matter at the center of the projectiles, but not the curvature of space that created and manipulated them.
“Darian, left!” I shouted as Arial and I careened downwards, and I released one of the force points while simultaneously generating a dark orb. He darted, and I bowled it towards Lacit as he staggered with the sudden change of gravity. Raising a hand, he burst the orb apart, stopping the dust inside it only as the bent space rushed past him. Then he directed the dust into Darian’s face, the particles like a miniature shotgun blast that blinded him as Lacit recovered.
The ground split apart as Lacit flexed his power, deep cracks running away from him a spiderweb that shattered the earth. With a curl, he yanked shards of ground free, the material spinning in an orbit around him before slashing it at Darian. But on the other side, the dirt bore none of the characteristics of our world—those pieces that Darian could not deflect bounced away like foam, their construct light and airy, leaving no more damage than a pillow. And each time Darian utilized Lacit’s power, he shone like a small star, the buzzing turning so loud, I nearly had to cover my ears.
"Enough!" shouted Lacit as the chunks of fluff were pelted back at him, knocking harmlessly off his chest and legs. Fury filled his eyes as he spread his hands wide, the fingers curling at the tips. Around us, the ash stopped swirling, the air stilled, and the world waited.
Then the ash rushed outwards, obeying Lacit in a torrent as it covered every inch of our bodies, the flakes coating our skin in a thick layer of dust. I coughed, a plume of grey exploding from my mouth, wiping it from my eyelids with two fingers. And as my vision returned, my feet left the ground.
Together, we rose upwards, each of us carried by thousands of mites of dust propelled by Lacit’s power. He clenched his fingers, and they contracted, forming a sheath as they forced our arms to our sides and our legs straight, his power still strong since it controlled not us, but the matter around us. From the side of my eyes, I could just see Darian, light flashing as he struggled to rip the particles away, but new ones rapidly replaced each that burned off. For Lola, the momentary distraction was enough for Waela to wrest the spear away from her, holding the tip against her upper rib cage.
I pushed against the dust, but it was like wading through molasses—as one area yielded, the others tightened, rendering any advance useless. Using my power pulled at my skin just as hard as the dust, meaning that if one was coming off, the other was coming with it. Beside me, Arial tried to fly away, but her movements turned erratic, as if she were traveling through a storm, and she pitched dangerously close to the ground.
“And now,” announced Lacit, waving his arms like a puppet master, “we proceed.”
He marched forwards, each of us moving with him as if on a tether, deflecting any ranged attacks that managed to break through at him. As we drew closer to the tree, I felt terror building inside me—the dread of rustling on a dark night, or a lost child, or the moments just before an unavoidable automobile accident. Fear spiked with adrenaline that made my skin itch, my heart race, and teeth chatter.
We were close n
ow—so close I could feel the frigidity of the air around the trunk and see the wisps of light disappearing as they dissolved into the bark. Ice started to form at the tips of my hair, and with every breath, I leaked energy, as if I were losing my very soul itself.
“Now all we need is a seed,” said Lacit, casting his eyes far above. “Fortunately, I have you to search for me. I personally wouldn’t want to touch it.”
He started to raise Arial, and she squirmed, knocking off a layer of dust but not nearly enough to slow his flight. With each jerk, he brought her closer to the tree, closer to the life-sapping force that held us as strongly as his power.
But then a voice spoke, one from the base of the trunk as a small figure stepped forwards, holding a dark object in her nearly translucent hand.
“I believe this is what you came searching for,” said Aetia, holding out a pitch black acorn. “Now take it and go—but do so with peace.”
Chapter 108
“In peace? It’s always those who have the disadvantage that want peace,” cursed Lacit, casting us upwards like trophies far out of reach.
“We should all strive for peace,” Aetia countered and took another step forward, the acorn still pinched between her forefinger and thumb. Even from above, I could see dark lines extending away from it into her skin, radiating out and up her forearm, growing slightly thicker with each passing moment. For now, her skin showed the transparency of a Transient to hold them at bay—but the moment was passing rapidly. Several steps behind her, the same yellow-painted girl who had welcomed us into the Worldwalkers waited, her head down as her power translated the exchange and kept her distance.
Negative Film (Star Child: Places of Power Book 2) Page 34
