The thing unfolded from the darkness. Nine feet of monstrosity masquerading in the approximate shape of a man. His disfigured face contorted into something akin to a smile, his eyes regarded Alice as a minor nuisance.
How many tests had she faced through her far-too-long lifetime? This creature saw a small girl, it had no idea of the truth her diminutive form concealed. Perhaps she should've relished that irony. If she'd allowed herself to become as detached as Cain, perhaps the creature's expression wouldn't even register with her. But she wasn't Cain, and she had little use for irony. No, the thing pissed her off.
Enough hiding. Dirty my hands Cain? You have no idea the centuries of blood and grit I will never be able to wash away. This is just one more thing—one more obstacle to put down.
She took a step forward and changed. The pale skinned girl tanned, her armour becoming tattered cloth.
"In the earliest years, they thought me a demon and named me Lilith."
Another step, another change. She'd become pale again, but her tattered cloth had darkened and elongated into a flowing scarlet robe.
"When the Pendragon's corruption threatened the world, they called me Morgana and vilified me for orchestrating his destruction."
One more step. The most radical change of all. A muscular man dressed in armour studded animal skins stood in her place. At this, the Veil beast howled in anger and perhaps even fear.
"Yes, Grendel, you knew me as Beowulf."
One more step and she appeared as Alice once more, only now her armour had become a black dress and her hair flowed on either side of her face in two long ponytails.
"I have seen the hand of god and that of the devil, and worn both their masks as history required. But I will be none of those things any longer. Face me monster as my true self. The girl named Adrastia, who earned her most noble reputation as a defender of the righteous and the nurturer of the god Zeus."
Her scythe leapt to her hand. That wouldn't be enough. She tore into the Veil and summoned him. The modern children of Suture referred to it as pulling a rabbit from the hat. They'd been led to believe such creatures were of another world, brought forth through the will of the Anunnaki. This was a lie. The 'rabbit,' like their weapons, was their heart given form. To produce something so large and autonomous required incredible power.
When she'd been Lilith, he'd been seen as a demon. In the days of Arthur, they simply called him The Black Knight. She had no name for him, he was a tool to be used in the most dire of circumstances.
"Now come, Grendel. Let me kill you one more time and be done with this."
§
Gwynn dove toward Sophia. He ripped into the Veil, envisioned it pushing him faster toward her.
"Sophia, grab my hand."
She reached out. Their fingertips brushed.
More. I need more.
"Again. Grab for it."
This time, her fingers closed around his wrist and his around hers. With the strength the Veil afforded him, he used that single grip to pull her against him. He wrapped his left arm around her.
"Hang on to my neck."
With his grip on her secure, he tore into the Veil.
Wings.
His shirt shredded as the wings burst from his back. The chasm they fell down proved too narrow, he couldn't extend his wings all the way. He imagined them arching and flexing like a parachute behind him. How far would they fall? Seconds could've been minutes, minutes hours. The lack of knowing made time meaningless.
Not slow enough. If we hit this hard, there'll still be injuries.
Xanthe.
The sword answered his call. He pushed his desires, his need, into the sword. The blade shot forward, bending at a sharp angle against the wall facing them and striking the opposite wall with the tip. The sound of scraping metal and concrete filled the space with a deafening shriek. Sparks danced like fireflies, falling down and fizzling out of existence.
Gwynn's wings extended and Xanthe lost its grip as they passed into a larger cavern. He let the sword return to the Veil—his wings now able to provide the soft landing they needed another twenty feet down.
Their feet touched firm surface, yet their embrace lingered fractions of a second longer than needed. A dim glow radiated from the cavern walls. Just enough for him to see Sophia's eyes widen as she saw his wings.
"I… I was so focused on falling, I didn't realize…" She reached a hesitant hand toward his right wing. "Can I…?"
"Touch it?" Heat surged into his cheeks. "I guess so. Go ahead."
Her fingers brushed along his wing, sending small tremors through his chest.
"Katsuro told me some Anunnaki could change their bodies, but this…" She traced his wing in the air. "I had no idea. Uh, it destroyed your shirt."
Gwynn scratched behind his head. "Yeah, I didn't exactly count on using my wings. I don't suppose you saw me saving the world topless, did you?"
She chuckled a little and routed around in her backpack. She handed him a hoodie.
"It should fit. I like them really big and baggy."
"It's pink."
"Oh?" She raised an eyebrow. "Are you not man enough to wear pink?"
"I just… I mean… Tell me you didn't have a vision of me saving the world wearing pink."
Her laughs came so unrestrained tears ran down her face.
"Well, I brought it for a reason, obviously. Don't worry, you still manage to look very heroic." She craned her neck, inspecting the space. "Where are we?"
In the dim light, Gwynn could make out dark stains—evidence others were less fortunate in their fall.
"I don't know." He nodded toward a hall. "It looks like we can get out that way."
He boosted her the four feet to the hall and pulled himself up.
"Any of this look familiar—from your visions?"
She shook her head, no.
"I have a confession. I might've lied about how much I saw in my visions."
"Why would you do that?"
Her cheeks flushed.
"I had to come. I knew Katsuro would never let me if he didn't think I was important. In my visions, I was there. So even if it's dangerous, this is where I need to be."
They came to an iron door with a barred window. No handles were visible on their side of the door. Gwynn tore into the Veil, pulling strength into his limbs. He pressed against the door on either side, but it didn't give.
"I don't think anyone is supposed to get out," Gwynn said.
Sophia ran her finger around the edges of the door. She paid particular attention to the top.
"I don't think the door opens out," she said. "See if you can get a grip at the bottom and try lifting it."
There was no way he could jam his fingers under the door. Instead, he gripped the bars over the window and pushed upward. The door protested with a loud groan, but it did move.
More. I need more.
The skin of his hands scaled and darkened in colour. He pushed all of his strength into throwing the door upward. Before it could come crashing down, he grabbed the bottom.
"Go," he said.
Sophia ducked under. His arms quivered as he angled his body underneath the door. When he cleared, he let go of the door and his grip on the Veil.
"Your hands," Sophia said, taking his hands in her own.
He tried to pull them away, but she held them tight.
"It's not just wings," she said.
"Not exactly. The wings I can control. My hands change when I take on too much." His flesh colour returned and the scales softened. "Pridament said if we draw too much on the Veil it can corrupt us. If I open to it too much, I become less human. I…" She'd released his hands. He flexed his fists, thankful for their familiar sensation. "I worry about losing myself. No one else seems to think about it, but I just can't let go of that thought."
She caressed his cheek.
"I don't think you should worry so much. I'm sure you won't lose yourself."
"Was that one of your visions
too?" It came out as a hoarse whisper.
"Nope. We'll call that one instinct. We should get moving."
They stood in a short hall that led to an intersection.
"Which way do you think we should go?" he asked. "I mean, should we try to find the others, or find the Bifrost?"
"The Bifrost—that's where Katsuro and the others will go."
"Were they with us in your vision?"
"Yes."
They walked the short distance to the intersection.
"So I say again, which way?" he asked.
She closed her eyes and pressed her right forefinger to her lips. She took a couple slow breaths, pointed her right arm straight out, wavering from right to left like a divining rod. Right to left, left to right, her arm moved. Then it pointed right and her eyes snapped open.
"That way," she said.
"What kind of power is that?"
She giggled.
"None. If you bothered to look, you'd see that going left leads to a door just like this one. I bet it's another trap."
Gwynn leaned around the corner and saw she was right.
"Yeah, ok, fine. I should've looked first."
"Nah, why should you when you have the mighty oracle with you?"
He chuckled.
"You're not confident at all, are you?"
"Hey," she poked him hard in the shoulder. "I've been having visions for years." Her voice verged on cracking. "It took a long time to feel confident in them."
"I'm sorry. I kind of understand what it's like learning to trust new and strange abilities."
"We should go." She smiled. "We have worlds to save."
They navigated their way through a labyrinth of hallways. On more than one occasion they had to backtrack. Hours passed. Gwynn was about ready to start using his strength from the Veil to knock down walls when they came to a door Sophia recognized.
"Here," she said, her voice rising in anticipation. "This is the door. The Bifrost is through here."
Gwynn summoned Xanthe to his hand and edged his way through the door. A series of columns adorned in gold lined the room, leading to a raised pedestal where a circular disc was set in the wall. A familiar swirling maelstrom filled the disc.
"It looks like a smaller version of the world killer," Gwynn said. "So what am I supposed to do?"
"I'm not sure. In my vision you had your arm in it. You've seen something like it before?"
"Yeah," Gwynn said. "It almost killed me."
"Oh. Uh, I didn't see you dying, if that's any help."
"It's ok." He tried to inject some confidence in his voice. "That one was a lot bigger than this."
"Well, you know what they say…" She gave him a wink. "Size matters."
Is this what it would've been like if my Sophia hadn't kept her distance? Gwynn wondered. It feels so easy and natural.
Gwynn walked up to the disc, took a long breath, and blew it out in a rush.
He plunged his right arm into the vortex.
A fire ignited in his right hand and burned up his arm. He grit his teeth against the discomfort. The glyphs on his arm glowed and twisted in rapidly changing patterns across his flesh.
A sudden stab of pain shot through to his chest making him gasp and groan.
"Are you ok?"
"Stay back." The words were so hard to say—the physical pain kept increasing. He remembered losing his Sophia and the destructive energies he unleashed. He couldn't risk having this Sophia close to him if that happened again.
He tried to focus on closing the vortex. In his mind he pictured the door that needed to be closed. He fought against the pain, stretched out his fingers, and willed the vortex to collapse in on itself. Instead, the vortex clamped down, trapping his arm, drawing him deeper into its hungry maw. His right hand contorted, deep purple and scarlet scales erupted and his fingers elongated and sharpened into claws. He felt the glyphs now, dancing like an army of ants across his flesh. But the procession of crawling feet didn't end at his arm, it continued up and across his shoulders. He fought the urge to claw at his skin.
Gwynn felt the fold opening before he saw the ripple in the air and the figure stepping out of it.
"Woten."
The older man gave Gwynn a grim smile.
"Hello, Gwynn. And to you as well, Sophia."
Woten waved his hand. A chair materialized and an invisible force pushed Sophia into it. She struggled, but invisible bonds kept her in place.
Sounds of an ensuing battle echoed from outside the room. Woten acknowledged it with minimal interest.
"I'd hoped we would have more time to chat," Woten said. "Though I'm sure Heimdallr will keep them occupied long enough."
"What is this?" Gwynn tried in vain to free his arm again.
"This is the salvation of our world," Woten said. "I can't expect you to appreciate the centuries, no, millennia, this has taken to develop." Woten snapped his fingers and another chair appeared, which he sat down in. "You see, I entered the Veil long ago. Unlike other Anunnaki who have done the same, I didn't just lose myself looking at the grandeur of my own soul, I opened my eyes and took in the enormity of the Veil. I looked so long and so deep, I lost one of my own eyes in the process. But I learned something very valuable—the Veil is damaged. These multiple worlds and our souls stretched thin trying to accommodate numerous versions of ourselves, is not how creation was meant to function. All of this has happened because the universe had to compensate for a paradox. A paradox that you, coincidentally, helped create."
"You're not making any sense." Gwynn worked hard to keep his words from becoming unintelligible screams.
"Let me tell you a story. You see, Anunnaki exist to help repair damage to the Veil. The paradox is that the damage exists because of Anunnaki. If it weren't for the existence of Anunnaki, they never would have had the power to enter the Veil. If they'd never entered the Veil, they never would have damaged it, which means multiple worlds would've never existed. If multiple worlds didn't exist, then the root cause of the paradox would have been impossible."
"You're talking in circles," Sophia said.
Woten shot her a cutting look.
"Very well, let me tell you what happened. There were two boys, one in one world, the other in a different world. In the way these things work, they were the same boy. At the age of eight, their abilities as Anunnaki awakened. One of them fell into the Veil. The other remained in his own world. In that shared moment of awakening, their powers erupted in fear and anger and exploded out of control. The one boy acted as an anchor, while the other, falling through the Veil, tore at its innards ripping and tearing his way through it. Those scars never healed properly. They bled out, birthing multiple worlds and eventually requiring the creation of Anunnaki to heal the wounds. The paradox is, neither of those boys would've been Anunnaki if they hadn't caused the damage to the Veil. And there wouldn't have been two poles creating the damage if there had only been one world."
"How is that Gwynn's fault?" Sophia asked.
This time, Woten smiled.
"Tell her."
Tears streamed down Gwynn's face. The pain threatened to overwhelm all his senses. Despite that, he knew exactly what Woten was describing. His knees buckled, but the vortex's grip on his arm wouldn't allow him to fall.
"It was me," Gwynn said. "My powers awakened when my parents died. There was another Gwynn, Pridament's son, who disappeared into the Veil. He's saying it was us. We made all of this."
"That's not your fault. How could you control any of that?"
"Precisely," Woten said. "It wasn't their fault at all. They were victims. But I've created a way to fix the damage. And you, Gwynn, are the catalyst once more. Poetic, you started it, and now you can end it. Right now, on numerous worlds, crossroads have been created. I've ensured large amounts of Veil energy will be expended in those places. You, through the Bifrost, will act as a beacon. We will collapse all the false realities and create a single, unified world, here on Asgard. Imagine the
society we can create when it isn't populated with people whose very souls are overburdened. We will set reality back on track."
"I guess I don't have a say in this?"
Woten shrugged.
"Your opinion is meaningless. I'm sorry, but there is more at stake. To be honest, I thought my plan would never work. Your other half proved elusive, and you appeared to have somehow lost your powers. It wasn't until your Sophia had a vision of your second awakening that I had hope. Of course, Justinian was a selfish bastard, so I had to make sure he thought the plan would benefit him. I took on a different face and voice and convinced him your awakening would create a world where he would be a central god. All it took was a jolt from an Ambrosia Ring in your English class and your little field trip to the Cameron house to set my plan on track."
"What about Fuyuko?" Gwynn asked. "Did you send her there to make her suffer?"
"No, no. The girl's vision indicated Fuyuko needed to be involved, so I ensured she was there. You must understand, Gwynn, prophecy is a fickle creature. To see it come to fruition you must do everything right—whether that's making sure the right people are present," Woten chuckled a little, paying attention to the pink hoodie, "or you have the right wardrobe."
Loud explosions sounded from outside.
"Well, I'm afraid the time for our little chat is coming to a close," Woten said. "When this is over, I hope you'll be able to appreciate the improved world we've created. Perhaps you might even be able to forgive me."
Woten stood up, waved the chair back into oblivion, and folded away.
The chair Sophia sat in also disappeared, sending her crashing unceremoniously down to the floor.
"Gwynn, what do we do?"
"I don't know. But I can feel it—the worlds connecting, merging, and dying. Oh god, Sophia, I feel so much death."
The doors smashed open and Katsuro, Pridament, Jason, and only three remaining men charged into the room.
"Gwynn," Pridament said.
"Wait." Sophia stood in their way, arms outstretched to further block them. "Gwynn said to stay back."
"Is he destroying the gate?" Katsuro asked.
Sophia looked nervously toward Gwynn.
"I… He's trying. We can't do anything for him. If we interfere, we might hurt him."
Suture (The Bleeding Worlds) Page 22
