Lex was pulled backward.
Marcus knelt on a hard floor in a dark room. An Aiac stood on either side of him. In front of him, out of sight in the shadows, stood something else.
“Tell me again!” snapped a cold voice.
“I’m to kill him,” Marcus said.
“Before…?”
“Before he fulfills the conditions of the prophecy.”
“And if you don’t?” the voice asked.
“You will kill me,” Marcus answered.
“And?”
“And anyone in this world or the other I care about.”
“It’s good to see you were listening.” The voice let out a laugh, then cut off suddenly. “Now get out of my sight.”
Marcus bowed his head, then stood. “Yes, Mistress.”
Lex was pulled backward.
Marcus stood in the shadows of the trees, just out of the shaft of moonlight slipping down through the canopy, watching Acarius sleep.
Do it now, he told himself. It’s already been too long.
He took a breath and lifted the knife, watching the moonlight ricochet off it. Light, redirected, bounced from tree to tree as he turned it. He lowered the knife.
Jana. Mom. Dad. Mrs. Martin. Mr. Martin. Steve. The names he recited to remember why he was doing this, why he even cared. Steve. Mom. Dad. Mrs. Martin. Mr. Martin. Jana. Jana. Jana.
Jana would hate him if she knew what he was about to do.
He took a step.
After tonight, he would hate himself.
He’s my friend.
He lowered the knife.
This isn’t who I am.
The knife fell from his fingers into the dirt.
He kicked it toward the trees. Curse Ardis, the prophecy, the Ancients, all of it. They didn’t own him. They couldn’t control him.
She’ll kill them all.
He wouldn’t let that happen.
He would find another way.
A blinding light split the night sky.
In the clearing, Acarius startled up to his feet in an instant. “What’s happening?” he shouted. “Marcus?”
Marcus ran toward him, squinting against the sudden brightness. “I don’t know,” he said. “Let’s go; hurry!”
He turned toward the trees.
The light slid inward, vanishing into a sliver just as a shape stepped out of it.
Marcus stared and blinked. Was it really–
“Jana?”
Lex was pulled backward.
“What’s happening to her?” Marcus shouted. He knelt over Jana’s body as it shook, her eyes rolled up in her head.
“A seizure,” Nigel said. “It should stop in a moment.”
Marcus cradled his arm behind Jana’s skull, protecting it. Jana’s body relaxed, her breathing evening out. She was asleep now, like before. He slipped his arm from behind her head. “I know it was a seizure,” Marcus said. “She had one yesterday. What I’m asking is why.”
“I told you before; she’s destabilizing. Travel affects dual-borns differently, since the portal uses their energy to power itself. We had no way of knowing quite how much, since Jana was the first dual-born to actually come through. I had hoped for a different outcome.”
Marcus turned to Nigel with a cold stare. “Fix it,” he said.
Nigel’s mouth dropped open. “Marcus,” he said after a moment. “Don’t you think I would if I could?”
Marcus knelt down beside Jana again, turning his back on Nigel. “Leave,” he said. “Please.”
Nigel slipped out through the tent door.
Lex was pulled backward.
Nigel paced in an empty tent. “The lips the teeth the tip of the tongue the lips the teeth the tip of the tongue the lips the teeth the–”
“Can you stop that?” Marcus snapped, pushing open the flap.
“Sorry,” Nigel said, turning toward him. “It helps me focus.”
Marcus peered in at him and sighed. “I’m sorry. I just–”
“I know,” Nigel said softly.
Marcus let the flap drop closed and moved away from the tent.
Focus, Nigel told himself. Focus. “The lips the teeth the – LEX Protocol!” he shouted.
Hurried footsteps neared the tent and Marcus stuck his head back through. “What?”
Nigel threw up his arms. “LEX Protocol!” he yelled again. He spun toward the tent door. “The console, where is it?”
“Right where you–”
“Bring it. Hurry!”
Marcus ran off.
Nigel bounced on his heels and clapped, then went still. “You’re getting rusty, old man,” he told himself. “You should have thought of this long ago.”
“Now, now,” he answered himself. “You are seventy-eight years old, not to mention the stress on your mental capacities from traveling through a portal into another dimension. Go easy on yourself.”
“Easy? Never!” he called out. “That would make me soft!”
Marcus stepped in, holding out the console and another small box.
“Thank you,” Nigel said, grabbing it from him. “Now get out and let me work.”
Marcus let the flap swing closed behind him, leaving Nigel alone.
Nigel dropped to the floor and set down the console, then opened the box and pulled out a keyboard, a portable monitor, and a small, plastic cube. “Battery backup still charged. Good, good. Attach the cables. Powering up, why is it so slow, oh there it goes, command screen, yes, yes, everything’s here.” His fingers flew across the keyboard.
__Access: core
__Core: Program LEX
__Program LEX: Override
__Override: All
He peered at the monitor, waiting while the system processed the language he had created to control it. The cursor at the end of “All” blinked once. Twice. The screen flickered.
He took a breath.
*Initiating Override* The words appeared on the monitor.
The screen flickered.
A bright light flashed.
Nigel’s victorious laugh rang out in the tent.
Lex was pulled backward.
Marcus lay on the ground, staring up at the sky. His body felt like lead. Every breath was a struggle. He looked to the side. Jana’s blue eyes gaped at him. No, he told himself. No. Not like this. He reached inside, found that familiar whisper of darkness, and ripped it wide open.
Lex was pulled backward.
He floated in a void of nothingness, of blackness and silence and the great empty chasm of not-being. He was in Marcus’ mind again – except Marcus’ mind was a thing dispersed, just barely holding substance. Lex strained to pull the bits together, to focus.
“Is he – “ he heard a voice say. Lytira.
“No. No!” Acarius.
“Move aside!” Nigel.
Scuffling. Movement.
“Let’s hope this works.” Nigel. “I reset the protocol a couple years ago, but channeling this much will fry the– ”
“What are you saying?” Acarius.
“We only have one shot.” Nigel.
“Do it.” Acarius.
A beep.
“What is it– “ Acarius.
“Is it supposed to– “ Lytira.
“Everybody get back!” Nigel.
A deafening boom shook the void, followed by static.
Then silence.
Marcusssss. A voice hissed, a sound of ice and danger.
“No,” Lex heard Marcus say. “Leave me alone. No!”
Calm. Another voice spoke, flooding the void with warmth.
The first voice fled.
Safe now, spoke the second voice.
“Safe,” Marcus echoed.
Safe, the voice replied.
Marcus sank into silence.
Lex was pulled backward.
He was still in nothingness.
Sulanashum. The word hissed by, like a
snake in passing.
Silence.
Speak the prophecy, a warm voice prompted.
Lex spoke. “I – I can’t remember.”
Sulanashum. A chorus of voices.
“What is that? I don’t–”
It is time. You are ready.
Lex was pulled backward.
He was falling through nothingness again, only this time he knew he had done this before. Something flashed bright to the right of him. He glanced over.
Amelia. She blinked into being just beside him, then was gone.
In the darkness, Lex felt something approaching, like a surface flying up to meet him. He braced himself for impact.
His world burst apart.
There were screams, and feet running, then a man’s voice. “Is that–”
“Grab him!” a gravelly voice commanded.
The pinch of fingers digging into his arms surprised Lex – he was back in a body. Why couldn’t he see anything? He tried to force his eyes open, but they wouldn’t move.
“What about the girl?” another man asked.
“She’s not important. Let her go,” said the gravelly voice.
Lex’s body felt limp, out of his control. The air around him smelled like smoke.
“We’ve got you, demon,” someone growled against his ear. He felt himself being dragged, then a second set of hands grabbed his ankles.
“Tie him up in the shed,” the gravelly voice said. “And you – fetch Earl. Quickly!”
He felt his mind sink away, falling into blackness.
He was pulled backward.
Lex blinked his eyes open. He was back in the chair in the Aracthea Inn, with Nigel still in front of him.
Nigel smiled. “Welcome back.”
Lex shook his head, trying to make sense of what he’d just been through. He felt as if part of him were still moving while the rest was stationary. “How did I–”
“The Worldforce carries residual consciousness from those who have passed through it,” Nigel said, crouching in front of him. “They’re like emotional imprints. They fade over time, but the strongest ones stay longest.” As he talked, he lifted Lex’s eyelids one by one, examining his eyes, then peered into each of Lex’s ears. “Not everyone can see them; our brains simply can’t function on the right wavelengths to process them. For most, the travel feels like being sucked through a dark tunnel. We can’t see what’s really around us.” He moved back to stand in front of Lex. “But you – well, you have Worldforce in you, now, so – I’m guessing you’re able to see them when you make contact with it. And you spent so long there after your death, I imagine you left behind quite the catalog of your own imprints, too.”
“Worldforce in me?” Lex asked. “I don’t–”
“Yes, well, it’s part of the process. The console meshes its programming with the Worldforce’s energy to create the portal. Ordinarily, whoever’s passing through is moving too quickly for any of the Worldforce to soak into them. But you were practically swimming in it for quite some time. You were bound to take some of it in. At least, that was the theory.” He paused, and leaned in toward Lex’s face. “Was I right? Did you see what you needed to see?”
Lex stared at him. “I don’t know.” What had he seen? What did it mean? He took a shaky breath. “I mean, yes, I saw things. But I– I mean– I think–” He paused. There were so many pieces, but he felt a certainty, a knowing he had lacked before.
Nigel leaned even closer. “Who are you?” he asked.
“Marcus.” The word escaped before Lex could even process it.
Nigel clapped his hands. “Yes!” he shouted. “I knew you’d see! It’s so much better to realize for yourself who you are than to have someone else force it on you, isn’t it?” He leaned forward. “Officially, you’re Prince Marculian, firstborn son of the former king of Arameth and the only heir of the last living family of Ancients,” he stated. “Or at least you were. Now you’re the ‘son of prophecy,’ best I can figure, so I guess none of the other stuff matters much anymore. Took me long enough to puzzle that out, though.”
“Wait… former king? Son of prophecy?” Lex asked.
“Yes,” nodded Nigel. “The monarchy was dismantled in the Great Wars over a century ago, but your father refuses to acknowledge that. He’s carrying on the family line of royalty as if anyone cares.” He laughed. “I suppose some do. The rest of the world, of course, doesn’t care that the Ancients were endowed as the rulers of Arameth because they don’t even know Ancients exist. It was part of the peace-arrangement – to wipe all memory of magic from the peoples’ minds so they would stop attacking anyone magic-born. It worked, mostly… at least until you showed up. Things have gone a bit crazy since then. People seem to think you’re a demon in service to Ardis, which is a bit of a sign their memories are returning, since Ardis is a goddess worshipped by Ancients exclusively… not that her power isn’t far-reaching. Oh, and yes, your sudden rebirth clearly makes you the son of prophecy – Sulanashum. It’s not like just any one can come back from the dead.”
Sulanashum. A flurry of half-knowings swirled in Lex’s mind, like an old song he knew but couldn’t quite remember the words to. They teased at him, but eluded his grasp.
Nigel watched Lex with interest.
The knowings continued to bounce around in Lex’s head, almost making sense, like a sentence cut up into words then blown about by a breeze.
“Come to think of it,” Nigel continued, “after your display at Alowen, the Aiacs must know who you are, and that you fulfilled the prophecy you’d been sent to destroy. Ardis had sworn to kill you for not slaying Acarius, only you died before she could, so… I’d guess she’ll be coming for you. Anyway, I’ve been holding this for you.” He reached in his tunic and pulled out a silver ring, topped with a dark blue stone.
Lex took it with shaky hands and slipped it onto his right ring finger. It fit perfectly.
“You’re the son of prophecy now,” Nigel said, “but I suppose part of you is still the prince.” He looked up at the ceiling. “You know, maybe you always were the son of prophecy, and just had to become not-yourself in order to become what you truly are. Huh. It’s so hard to tell with prophecies.” He looked back at Lex and shrugged. “Do you know?”
Lex shook his head. “I remember more now, but it doesn’t feel like me. It’s like I’m still seeing Marcus’ memories, but I’m someone else. Someone separate.”
“Him and not him, yes, of course,” Nigel nodded. “You are who you were before but also someone new. Fascinating! You would be a scientific marvel, if science could explain this. Actually, I suppose it can, since I created the technology which caused it. I just haven’t figured out the terminology yet. Who knew that technology could alter prophecy? Or is it the other way around?”
“But how?” Lex asked.
“LEX Protocol,” said Nigel. “Didn’t you see?”
“Some,” Lex answered. “But what was it?”
Nigel’s face turned serious. “A failsafe, and quite a clever one, though not without its flaws. It was a backup, so to speak – an agreement between my code and the Worldforce.”
Lex stared.
“You still don’t– Ah, I know. Yes. Think of it this way. If the portal was me knocking on the Worldforce’s door, the LEX Protocol was my offer to jump out a window… as long as it would catch me. See?”
Lex shook his head slowly.
Nigel sighed. “I told you that when I came through the portal, there were consequences, an impact on me, yes?”
“Yes.”
“One of those impacts was that the Worldforce and I are… let’s say linked. It is more clear that way. Yes, linked.”
“What does that mean?”
“It talks to me,” Nigel said. “And I to it. When Jana destabilized and the Worldforce started going berserk, I sent it a request: ‘Spare me, if ever I come to you. Make me part of yourself.’ Though in much more numeric
words, of course.”
“I don’t understand,” Lex said.
“LEX Protocol was only ever meant to work once,” Nigel said. “Lex means ‘law,’ you see, in Latin. Well, ‘rule,’ actually, but it amounts to the same in this case. It was the law of our agreement. And it was meant to work on me. I thought, if the worst happened, at least I could spend my final years there in the Worldforce – with Lily. It was my retirement plan, if you will. Only, in the end, we had to send you instead.”
“But why?” Lex whispered.
“Because you are Sulanashum, clearly, though at the time we were attempting something else entirely. Fate is a backwards thing, it seems. In any case, you are who you were but you are also who you were not, and the who you are now is not quite the who you were before. Think of yourself as Marcus 2.0, a caterpillar turned butterfly… or moth, if you prefer the fuzzy back and feathery antennae; I rather do. You are a metamorphic being, a new creation, a–”
“Lex?” Lex offered.
“Yes, exactly.” He smiled. “A Lex. It’s a good name, isn’t it? Lucky I didn’t name the protocol something clunkier. Anyway, you’d best get used to it. There’s no going back now, though I suppose you could change your name if you really wanted to. I do have to say, you look remarkably good for someone who’s been dead for seven years… not to mention that you aged backwards.”
“What?” Lex asked.
“You were missing for seven years, didn’t you know? We all thought you’d just died and then exploded into bits so small they evaporated, which given the circumstances didn’t seem all that unreasonable. We hoped at least part of you had made it through, but then nothing happened, so we reasoned probably not.”
Lex stared. Seven years. Seven years since since Marcus – no, he, himself – had experienced any of the things he’d seen. Seven years between death and waking up at Dalton. Had he really just been floating in the void that long? He had no memory of it.
Nigel peered at him. “The age reversion is really astonishing. I mean, the science of it is one thing, but to actually see it in person…” He grabbed Lex’s chin and tipped his face to the side, examining it. “You were nineteen when you died, but now I’m guessing what, seventeen?”
The Edge of Nothing_The Lex Chronicles_Book 1 Page 20
