by Patti Larsen
“It is,” he nodded. “This is one of the nine drach who gave their physical forms to protect Creator’s body when the Universe was made.”
My mind didn’t want to grasp what he was saying. “I don’t understand.”
“There is no time to explain now,” he said. “We must go speak to Fate. I have the answer I need, Sydlynn. Now I must know where this answer will lead us.” He gently took the ribbon from me, deposited it on the foot of the statue again. “I will explain everything, I promise. But we have to go.”
I nodded, feeling vacant, like my poor brain was on a time out. My alter egos seemed equally as stunned, the four of us still struggling to get past the terrible grief of the drach soul. Even my sorcery felt blunted and sad, recoiled tightly beneath me as Max took my hand and opened the veil.
We both felt the resistance the moment we entered. It triggered my anger, but what I felt was clearly nothing compared to Max’s rage. With a roar he burst into drach form and tossed me at the same moment. I landed firmly on his back, weakened power more than enough to anchor me to him.
Let me, I sent. You’re still tired. Like I wasn’t.
The hell I am, he snarled in my head, magic surging around him, violence in his power. I’d never felt him angry before and it scared the crap out of me.
Remind me never to piss you off, I sent as he smashed through the barrier with a burst of fire and a heave of his broad wings. I heard the screams of fear from those who opposed us, their failure echoing into the veil even as Max slashed a giant hole in the rubbery membrane and hurtled us through it.
Instead of shifting to human shape as he usually did, the giant drach skimmed low over Center, the maji city barely ten feet below us. His shadow sent the white-robed residents running, screaming as his power preceded him. A back wash of his wings sent a few flying, tumbling away as he landed us in the central plaza, at the foot of the steps to the main hall and where Light Fate resided.
Four rows of maji stood in our way, all terrified but refusing to back down. And, at their head, stood the old leader, Zeon. He held up both hands, Santa Claus face a mask of command, though I could tell from the shaking of his body he was as anxious as his people.
“You may not enter!” His voice boomed, making visible ripples in the air.
Max roared again, power shaking the ground, sending the maji stumbling and falling from the steps they guarded. Zeon caught himself in time, but he still looked foolish to me.
“Get out of my way, maji,” Max growled, smoke and a hint of fire puffing from his massive muzzle. “Now.”
Zeon’s eyes flickered to me. “She may not accompany you,” he said, pointing at me. “She’s done enough damage.”
Max snorted more smoke. “She’s with me.”
“She is maji!” His shriek totally blew his whole master of the Universe routine, revealing his fear clearly at last. “She will obey my commands!”
“Zeon,” I said, slipping from Max’s back as he shifted to human form and began a firm, deliberate stride toward the maji leader, “take a flying leap already.”
I didn’t have to do anything. The drach leader’s power—the magic of the first race of the Universe—even weakened was more than a match for the frightened maji. With a wedge of shielding shoved in front of him, Max sent our opposition scrambling out of the way while Zeon, face alternating between rage and terror, followed us.
I ignored him. Who cared what he had to say? Max didn’t seem to and, from the ineffectual way the maji had handled pretty much every major disaster in my life—that is to say they didn’t lift a freaking finger—I was pretty much ready to trust Max on it.
“Drach!” Zeon wasn’t about to quit as we strode up the steps, growing, as we were always forced to, to meet the size of the place. I pushed upward until the main hall looked less like I was an insect and more like I belonged there. “Any crisis that befalls us because of your meddling with Creator is on your head. Do you hear me?” Max kept walking. “Do not come crying to the maji when the servant of the Dark Universe unleashes hell!”
Max spun suddenly, stopping so fast I caught my breath. He glared down at Zeon who cowered a little. Just for a moment, but the rage and resentment that flashed in his eyes told me he hated Max for making him feel small.
“Stay out of this,” the drach leader said, “like you always do, maji. Whisper your lies to each other, your old dreams never realized because you were too weak and afraid to act. Pronounce your judgments on those who choose to act. But leave the salvation of the Universe to your betters.”
I could have jumped up and down and cheered and made na-na-na boo-boo sounds at Zeon. Could have. Decided to be a grownup and just shrug at him with an arched eyebrow.
Sucked to be him.
Together, Max and I spun on our heels and left Zeon behind.
***
Chapter Thirty Eight
I wasn’t surprised to find Fate waiting for us, though I was a little shocked to discover her dark brother was with her. But the moment the two heard our footsteps, I realized things were way worse than I’d ever imagined.
Light Fate’s face was sheathed in tears, her white, blind eyes wide and staring. Usually, she seemed to be able to make her way easily, as though guided by what she could see internally. But even her brother looked drawn and frightened, Dark Fate’s anxiety and lack of poise pulling me to a halt.
Max didn’t falter approaching Light Fate. I knew he loved her, though the origins of their first meeting and what they truly meant to each other was lost to me. They didn’t talk about it and I didn’t ask. Besides, this was no time to bring it up, not when she stumbled and almost fell, feet tentative beneath her, Max's strong hands catching her and lifting her to him.
She cried out and buried her face in his chest, sang the song that was his name while he sang softly back to her. Whatever he said made her sag as he guided her to the fountain where I’d first met her, sat her down beside her staring and desperate brother.
“Tell me,” Max said.
“Is Sydlynn here?” Light Fate felt around with her hands and I realized, for the first time, she and her brother were truly blind. I caught her fingers in mine, Dark Fate’s in my other and watched them both shiver but ease in their fear.
“My love,” she whispered. “We can no longer see the future.”
Her brother bobbed his head, blond, wavy hair hanging around his cheeks. “For days now,” he said. “Since Zoe Helios became a phoenix.”
She became a what? So that was how she survived the flames. But what did that mean?
“It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.” Light Fate’s voice cracked and warbled. “She was meant to heal the Oracles, to cleanse them of the taint of the Brotherhood and reset their abilities. To prevent further damage to the future.”
All caught up now, I hoped.
“Be we didn’t foresee this.” Dark Fate’s hand fell from mine and he slouched, looking more like a teenager with a terrible secret then an all-powerful Fate of Creator.
“Zoe can’t see anything either,” I said. “Her power is gone.”
Light Fate hiccupped, nodded. “Then, I fear the worst has happened,” she said. “That somehow Liander Belaisle has found out a way to move outside Fate and, in doing so, has rendered us helpless.”
That had to be impossible. They were the Fates, weren’t they?
“I worried for Syd,” Max said, “when I was unable to reach her almost three days ago.” Wow, had it only been three days? “I suspected the Brotherhood when I tried to find her, the feeling of their foul sorcery everywhere. But, I was forced to leave that investigation to her.” He nodded sadly to me. “I traced Belaisle’s power, you see. Not to Gaia or the council. But to the edge of the Universe.”
The sound of running feet whipped my head around and I barely had time to brace myself before Iepa threw her arms around my neck and hugged me.
“Syd,” she said, backing away, her face mirroring the Fate’s fear. “I tried
so hard to help. But they wouldn’t let me go.” Frustration burst through her power.
“You’re here,” I said. “Thank you.” I paused, frowned. “You’re responsible for Ameline’s soul being trapped in the maji chamber.”
She gulped and nodded, sinking down next to me beside the bubbling fountain. “And for what little information she told you,” she said. “I could only hope you would find her at last and she could point you in the right direction.”
There had been a time I didn’t trust Iepa, that she’d betrayed me, or I thought she had. Only to discover Fate was in control of everything. But now, in this moment, I saw clearly just how much she’d done, what she’d risked and fought for, to help me. And I hugged her for it.
“You did great,” I said before turning back to Max with her hand in mine. “Keep going.”
“Your effort was most valiant, Iepa,” the drach said. “But, I fear, no manner of support from you or even all the maji could have helped against what Belaisle has already done.”
I almost didn’t want to ask. “What would that be?” Like it would be me if I didn’t look down the rabbit hole.
“You already know, Syd,” Max said, showing us all a vision of the drach caught in a spinning maelstrom of what looked like power and the veil and darkness all woven together. “I’ve already spoken his name. Belaisle has made a pact with the other Universe. His new master is Creator’s Dark Brother.”
We all sat silent, lost in what Max had said.
“The rest of the drach?” I should have known better than to let that burst of panic go anywhere.
“Safe,” he said. “On Demonicon, resting. It was a close thing, but we managed to escape the vortex and partially reseal it. But Syd, I was mistaken all along thinking we’d closed the way to the other Universe.” He shook his big head, eyes sparkling with regret. “I now understand once the way is opened it can never be closed again.”
Something Gabriel’s actions triggered seven years ago. There was an “unless” hanging in his voice, but I was too afraid to ask him what it might mean. Because I was positive whatever he would tell me would have to do with my son and I refused to put Gabriel in harm’s way.
Max knew that. Maybe he held back on purpose, to save me. But, then again, I needed to know.
“Tell me something,” I said, though I knew he might see my question as shifting blame. I never intended it that way. “If your race created the two Universes, why can’t you just fix the hole?” Way to prod your drach friend with the fun fact this was all his fault.
He sighed, shrugged. “It’s always easier to destroy than create,” he said. “And though we had the power to segment the Universes by creating the new magicks, we were unable to undo the damage once it unfolded. Only the power of Creator was strong enough to keep both Universes from being destroyed by the very forces that broke them in two.”
Gotcha. Sucked, but made sense.
“What’s made things worse in the long run,” Max went on, stifling my unhappy ponderings, “is the fact Belaisle has linked himself to Dark Brother. Perhaps if he hadn’t the schism would have remained small and gone unnoticed. But with his interference, by permanently bonding himself to the other side, he has created the potential for growth of the crack. Please understand,” he said to me, as if I was the only one in the dark , “the way between Universes is a veil of its own, but nothing really like what separates the planes. It is, instead, the exact moment the two Universes split, held in stasis. Time, an instant of it, formed into a thin band of limbo. Life goes on around and on both sides of it. But that hair-thin barrier was always meant to be impermeable and has been, in the history of all things, the strongest force known to any magic.”
“Because time itself is immovable,” Light Fate said, regaining some of her poise as she spoke. “Fluid and under constant motion, but always the baseline of everything in the Universe. The pulse of life.”
“When Creator realized what was happening,” Max said, “when she discovered the new Universe had sprung up, in reflection to this one due to the creation of the new magicks, she forced time to stop and create a barrier to forever keep the two apart.”
“In doing so,” Dark Fate said, young man’s face serious, “she was forced to give of herself—
her being and all her power to this Universe, to abandon her physical form to create the time seal and save us from destruction.”
“What will letting Dark Brother through to this Universe do to us?” I had to force myself to breathe, so tense my lungs ached with each inhale and exhale.
“Were that his purpose,” Max said with grim anger, “I would worry less than the true goals in his dark heart.”
“What has happened?” Light Fate clutched at his arm.
“Creator gave up her being to protect us,” he said. “But her physical form wasn’t destroyed, was impossible to eliminate. And so, she instructed the drach to break apart her body and protect it, scattering nine pieces around the Universe to keep them safe. No one knew of their locations but the drach who guarded Creator’s pieces."
I did not like the sound of this. “The Stronghold,” I said with a soft gasp. “The statue.”
“No statue,” Max said. “But the final resting place of Creator.”
Oh. My. Swearword.
“Her heart was left with her body,” Max said, “that much we were allowed to know.” The Stronghold called it his heart. That made total sense to me now. Creator’s own heart beating in the deepest soul of the first plane. “Protected by the soul of one of the drach.” Max was sad about something, and I wondered what could make any of this any worse than it already was. “My mother,” he said.
Wait. What? I thought he was the first drach ever? While I pondered that anomaly, my own heart crumbled. “The silver thread?”
He nodded. “I lead the drach,” he said. “But only because my family gave of themselves in the beginning. They no longer exist, not as we understand existence.”
I leaned into his shoulder, my forehead against the soft fabric of his robe and I cried silently for the drach who had birthed him, the remains I’d held in my hands and the song she’d sung, the last of her legacy.
When I leaned back, snuffling, tears ran down his cheeks, though he smiled at me. “She was proud to answer Creator’s call,” he said. “As were my father and brother.” That made three of the nine. “The rest were chosen specifically for their strengths and their dedication to Creator.” Max’s words became hesitant and I wondered why he wasn’t chosen. He was the best of them, as far as I knew.
“But our visit to the chamber has now proven to me someone else knows about Creator’s form,” Max said. “And is actively seeking to assemble the pieces separate from her body.”
The hole in the statue’s chest. The falling thread. “Her heart is gone.”
Light Fate gasped so loud I jumped. “To where? Who has stolen it?”
“We don’t know,” Max said. “But it bodes evil for us all. With the loss of Creator’s heart, Fate has stopped, holds its breath. What Gabriel began is evolving, thanks to Belaisle and his pact with Dark Brother.”
“And that is why,” Zeon’s voice cut through our conversation, making me lunge to my feet with a snarl of rage on my lips, “the abomination you mothered must be destroyed.”
Over my dead and desiccated corpse.
My power hit Zeon full in the chest, not holding back my anger even a little. He staggered, fury on his face. Let him be pissed. He had no idea what anger was.
About to find out, though.
“You come near my son,” I snarled, “and the maji will regret your decision for generations to come.” Zeon opened his mouth and I shut it with a blast of magic. “You do not want to find out if I’m kidding. Trust me.”
But Light Fate was openly weeping. “He may be right,” she whispered.
I turned on her, spitting fire. “Don’t even think about it.”
“Syd is right,” Max said. “It’s far too late,
now. And Gabriel’s existence was necessary to fulfil the prophecy. Which ended with Syd victorious. His continued health and wellbeing is of no concern to us. The damage is done and cannot be unmade.” He glared at Zeon. “Or do you now challenge the prophecy Creator herself put down for us to follow? I have heard no thanks from you since its completion at great personal risk to Sydlynn and her son seven of her years ago.”
The maji leader backed off a bit as my white-hot temper cooled to bubbling lava.
“I’m afraid,” Light Fate said. “For the first time in creation, there is no guidance, nothing to show us the path.” Dark Fate nodded with her.
“Maybe that’s a good thing,” I snapped. Okay, maybe not. But I was tired of being the only one who didn’t have a damned clue. Nice to have company for a change.
“How did Belaisle know to take Creator’s heart?” Iepa turned her back on Zeon, speaking quietly while her leader glared with his arms crossed over his wide chest. He looked more like an angry Zeus than Santa Claus, but I still didn’t respect his dumb ass.
“Dark Brother must have told him,” Max said.
I shook my head, sinking to the fountain’s edge again. “He couldn’t have done it,” I said. “Stronghold kicked all the Brotherhood out. There’s no way Belaisle made it past his defenses.”
“Then, he had an ally,” Max said. “Who the Stronghold trusted.”
I shuddered. That meant someone I knew was a traitor.
“With Creator’s heart gone,” Max said, “the Stronghold’s personality is sleeping. It must have developed separately, out of the presence of Creator’s heart.”
“Maybe we can appeal directly to Creator.” I had no idea how, but wasn’t it worth a try? Normals prayed and stuff all the time to their deities, didn’t they?
“There is no cohesive personality to appeal to any longer,” Max said. “Creator is all around us, in every part of the Universe. The body is simply dense with magic because it bore Creator. But the essence of the one who made us is long absorbed.”
