"People die in battle, yes, but death is not the ultimate goal. Wars are waged over territory or power or riches—"
"Or glory," Marsh said.
Damon wiped the dirt from his face and said, "Yes, you are correct, Seaver. I sought glory. But no matter what you may believe, mankind would have survived my adventuring. Changed perhaps, but I would not have brought about the end of days."
"And Brennus will?" Marsh asked.
"His goals are very different than mine. Where I sought glory, he seeks chaos."
"What's the difference?" Coop scoffed. "He can't win a battle in the Light any more than you can. I don't care how many spirits he's got behind him."
"Agreed. He would not triumph in the Light . . . if the Light were his objective."
"It's not?" Coop asked quickly.
"What other objective is there?" Marsh asked with trepidation.
"Brennus has accumulated the evil of untold souls,"
Damon cautioned. "Even I shudder at his dark thoughts. His aim is to conquer the place that holds the collected wisdom and knowledge of mankind. It is the final destination of every completed soul."
Coop and Marsh exchanged looks.
"I don't like the sound of that," Coop said.
"You mean like . . . heaven?" Marsh asked.
"The other end of the Morpheus Road," Coop said, numb. "Where Press said the Watchers are from."
"It has a name," Damon said. "Solara. Brennus intends to destroy the spirit of mankind that has existed there since the beginning of time. When he succeeds, it will truly be the end of days."
"But . . . how can he do that?" Coop asked. "I mean, he can't open up a Rift into heaven. Can he?"
"He needs only to find the Threshold," Damon replied. "It is the portal that the Watchers employ to pass along the road and into Solara."
"Is that a real place?" Coop asked.
"It is. Even I would not have dared to attempt a crossing. There was no reason. I have no true quarrel with the Watchers."
Coop paced nervously. "So you're saying he's going to take those millions of spirits from the Blood and . . . conquer heaven?"
Damon shrugged and said, "Simply put, yes."
There was a long moment of silence as the grim reality set in.
Coop finally broke the tension and grabbed Marsh's arm. "We gotta get back."
"Wait," Marsh said, pulling away from Cooper. "I . . . I have to think."
"He's done, Marsh," Coop argued. "I can't stand looking at him anymore."
Marsh nodded, his mind spinning out of control at the implications.
"Yeah," Marsh mumbled, dazed. "We have to warn Press."
The two backed off and turned away from the broken general. They took only a few steps, when Marsh suddenly spun around and stalked right back and stood over Damon.
"Ralph!" Coop exclaimed.
Marsh ignored him. He got right into Damon's face and said, "You assembled an army in the Black and came searching for more recruits to do what? Battle the Guardians? A force you already defeated once?"
"That was but a minor skirmish," Damon said, scoffing. "So why battle them again? There's no glory in that. You saw yourself sitting high on a horse in front of an army of spirits that you could lead straight into the Light, didn't you?"
"A splendid dream," Damon said wistfully.
"It was a dream all right," Coop said. "You'd have been cut down in a heartbeat by modern weapons."
"It was never about victory, you obnoxious thug," Damon spat at him. "It was about the glory of the battle."
"A battle you had no chance of winning," Marsh argued. "Not a whole lot of glory there."
Damon was ready to disagree, but remained silent. "Let's go, Marsh," Coop said.
"Tell me," Marsh said to Damon, "which is more effective? The brute strength that comes with numbers? Or the skills of a master tactician?"
Damon smiled. "You know how I will answer that."
Marsh pressed on. "Then, why not wage a campaign that is truly worthy of your skills?"
"Easy, Ralph," Coop cautioned.
"Where are you going with this?"
Marsh stayed focused and said, "Defeating the Guardians again wouldn't change history's perception of you. And the glory of marching into the Light in front of an impressive army wouldn't last long. Is that all you wanted? A brief moment? Or would you rather battle the greatest force ever assembled . . . with a chance of actually winning?"
"You can't be serious," Coop said with dismay.
Marsh had Damon's full attention.
Keeping his eyes on Marsh, Damon slowly got to his feet. Coop ran forward to stop him but Marsh put his hand out, keeping Coop back.
"Am I hearing correctly?" Damon said. "Are you suggesting I wage war against Brennus?"
"I am."
"Marsh!" Coop screamed. "He's probably lying through his pointed teeth about Brennus and Solara and all that."
Marsh finally focused on Cooper and said, "Does it matter? You saw those spirits flooding into the Black, and the millions more waiting their turn. The Guardians can't stop them."
Coop was flustered. "But . . . after all he's done to us. Do you realize who you're talking to?"
Marsh glanced to Damon and said, "Yeah. Maybe the only guy who can stop them."
"No!" Coop screamed. "How can we trust him after all he's done?"
"The Watchers won't stop Brennus, and the Guardians are outnumbered a thousand to one," Marsh barked. "Even if he's lying about Solara, do you seriously think the Guardians can stop Brennus, no matter what he's up to?"
Coop started to answer quickly, but held back and softly said, "No."
Marsh pointed to Damon. "But he might."
"I don't believe this," Coop muttered under his breath. Marsh stood directly in front of Damon and said, "So? Are you willing to gather your spirits and fight the war that you've been waiting centuries for?"
Damon stared at Marsh for several moments, then stepped away, lost in thought. He strolled around the fountain, surveying the Blood version of his ancestral village and contemplating the statue of Alexander.
"You are clever, Marshall Seaver," Damon said. "You have used my weaknesses in an attempt to influence me, as I have played on your fears to do the same to you. Bravo. But as I see it, you need me more than I need you. You are still fighting for your eternal souls, while I have nothing more to lose."
"But a whole lot to gain," Marsh said quickly.
"Do I?" Damon asked. "These are my terms—"
"Terms?" Coop screamed. "He's giving us terms? I'll kick his ass to—"
Coop went for Damon but Marsh held him back. "What terms?" Marsh asked.
Damon said, "If I were to wage this battle, I would need your assurance that you will do everything in your power to ensure that I will not end up back here."
"How are we supposed to do that?" Coop shouted. "We're not Watchers."
"But you have their ear," Damon argued. "It is the least you can do."
"No, we can do more," Marsh said.
"We can?" Coop asked, surprised.
"If you battle Brennus, I'll plead your case to the Watchers but I can't guarantee what they'll do," Marsh said. "But there's something I can guarantee."
Marsh reached into his hoodie and pulled out the crucible.
Damon stood stiff at the sight of it. "The final crucible," he said with reverence.
"Win or lose, when the battle is complete, I promise that I'll destroy this. You'll no longer be cursed by the blood of Alexander."
Damon let the hint of a small smile cross his lips. He glanced up to the statue of his former general, then back to Marsh. "Very well," he said. "I accept your terms."
"Oh my god," Coop lamented. "I don't believe this."
He pulled away from Marsh and stalked toward Damon. "Are you serious about this? Or is it just another one of your lies?"
Damon stood straight, brushed the dirt from his armor, and spoke with a crisp, confident voice.
<
br /> "I will not insult you by pretending to be anything other than what I am. I do not justify my actions nor deflect responsibility. But I am proud to say that I am a motivator of men and a superlative tactician. I would welcome nothing more than the opportunity to prove my worth and to show that if anyone is up to the task, it is I."
"And then what?" Coop said, scoffing. "March your army into the Light anyway?"
Damon held Cooper's gaze. Neither blinked.
"No," Damon said with finality. "Defeating Brennus would be adequate . . . so long as the crucible is destroyed and I am free of its hold."
"It will be," Marsh assured him.
"This is just nuts," Coop said, kicking at the ground angrily.
"There is one more thing," Damon said.
"More?" Coop said, incredulous.
Damon looked to Marsh. "If I am to have any hope of succeeding, I will need the poleax."
"No way!" Coop screamed. "Jeez, you got brass."
Marsh looked to the dark sword that he had been holding at his side.
"Why?" he asked.
"You know the power it holds in the Black," Damon said. "It has opened up Rifts between lives . . . and it can close them."
Coop shot Damon a surprised look. "Seriously? You can close the Rift?"
"No matter how brave and accomplished a general may be, a battle against an infinite army cannot be won. To defeat Brennus I must first stop the flow of souls from the Blood."
Marsh looked to Cooper. "What do you think?" he asked.
Cooper shrugged. "I have no idea. It's your call, Ralph."
Marsh raised the poleax and looked it over.
"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" Coop asked.
"Yeah," Marsh replied. "I'm taking the only chance we have."
He held the poleax in both hands and offered it to Damon.
"I have to trust you," he said.
With that, he handed the powerful weapon over to Damon a second time.
29
Marsh and Cooper huddled together inside the Flavian Amphitheater in the Blood, hidden behind a pitted column, watching as the endless stream of spirits continued to move into the Rift.
"Brennus is gone," Coop said, pointing to the empty throne in the royal box.
"He went through," Marsh said. "He's not in the Blood anymore. Don't you feel it?"
Coop nodded. "Yeah. I do. Let's hope he was one of the lucky contestants who got whacked fast on the other side."
Marsh ran from behind the column, moving quickly forward and closer to the Rift, where he ducked down behind a pile of shattered arms and legs that once belonged to statues. Coop was right behind him.
"You realize we made a deal with the devil," Coop said.
"I do."
"We're risking it all for the guy who killed me and your mother and a few thousand other innocent people. And ate some of them, by the way."
"Yup."
"And you think he's going to keep his word?"
"I think he's going to fight because that's what he wants to do. He's never lied about that."
"And what if he wins, Ralph?"
"I don't know. Let's hope we get the chance to find out."
Marsh moved around the pile of marble body parts and sprinted to a spot along the brick retaining wall not five yards from the left edge of the Rift. None of the spirits paid them any attention.
"I'll go first," Coop said. "The Guardians know me. Wait a few seconds and then follow. If I'm not there when you get through, wave your arms and scream your head off."
"What should I scream?"
"I don't know. Your mother's name. Or Zoe's name. Or anything that'll make them realize you aren't like the other drones coming through."
"And then we both start screaming," Marsh said.
"Yeah. Man, I hope you know what you're doing, Ralph."
"Me too. And would you do one thing for me?"
"What?"
"Stop calling me Ralph."
Coop stared at his friend for a long moment, then gave him a big smile and the double okay sign.
"See you on the other side."
"Good luck," Marsh called, but Coop was already up and running for the edge of the Rift.
Coop pushed his way into the line, not caring that he had cut in front of about eight million others waiting to go through, and disappeared into the Rift.
Marsh took one last look back into the Blood, hoping he would never have to see the wretched place again. For any reason. He counted to five, then jumped up and followed Coop. He first had to shove his way into the flow of spirits before riding the wave into the Rift. He was sandwiched between two spirits who were moving quickly. Too quickly. Marsh didn't have time to prepare himself. He held his breath, ready to scream out at the Guardians to avoid getting mowed down by a black sword. Seconds later he was pushed through the gray opening and back out to the arena floor.
In the Black.
After having spent so much time in the dark of the Blood, Marsh was momentarily blinded by daylight. He felt an electric charge jump through his body and realized that the spirit who had come through in front of him had taken a sword hit directly to his chest and been vaporized.
"Hey! It's me! Marshall Seaver!" he yelled, waving his arms.
He saw the silhouette of an attacker move toward him. All he could think to do was fall on his knees and hope that the black sword would miss him.
"I'm Ree Seaver's son!" Marsh yelled, holding his arms up to block the sun and whatever else might be coming his way.
He expected to feel the same tingling sensation as when the spirit had been destroyed, only a thousand times more powerful. He braced himself, ready for his existence to end.
Instead of the stinging shock, his arm was grabbed by strong hands and he was pulled to his feet.
He had made it.
"Where's Cooper?" Marsh asked the Guardian as he was being pulled along.
"Right here, idiot," Coop replied. It was Coop who had grabbed Marsh and was pulling him away from the Rift. Marsh's eyes finally adjusted to the light and he recognized his best friend. As they moved away from the fighting, he glanced back to see that the defense of the Rift was ongoing. Spirits were still pouring through. Some were quickly destroyed; others escaped in a cloud of color.
"We don't have much time," Marsh cautioned.
"We can't do anything without Zoe's help," Coop replied. He let go of Marsh, and the two sprinted to the far side of the arena, where Ree and Press stood observing the battle.
Ree threw her arms around Marsh. "Oh thank god," she cried.
"What happened?" Press asked.
Cooper started to answer but Marsh cut him off. "We've got to clear the Guardians away from the Rift," he said breathlessly. "Now. Right now."
"Why?" Ree asked, confused.
"Because our best hope of beating Brennus is about to come through the Rift, and if the Guardians get to him first, we're done."
"Brennus came through a while ago," Press declared. "He was surrounded by a dozen figments. The Guardians cut down most of them but Brennus escaped."
"All the more reason to clear the Rift," Coop said.
"What's going on, Marsh?" Ree asked.
"If I tell you, you're going to ask more questions and then it will be too late. Please, just trust me."
Zoe ran up to the group, still brandishing her black sword and out of breath from the battle.
"Did you destroy Damon?" she asked.
"Not exactly," was Coop's calm answer.
"Pull back the Guardians," Ree commanded Zoe.
"Pull back?" Zoe shouted with surprise. "Why?"
"Somebody is coming out who can help us," Marsh answered.
"Who?" Zoe asked.
"Just do it!" Marsh yelled with frustration.
"But that will allow hundreds of spirits to come through," Zoe protested.
"A few hundred more won't matter when there are millions lined up to get out of there," Marsh said.
; "Millions?" Ree repeated, aghast.
"Give or take," Coop said with a casual shrug. "Pull them back, Zoe. It'll only be for a short while."
Zoe was torn. She glanced between Marsh and Cooper, trying to understand.
"You have to trust us," Marsh said.
Zoe committed. She turned and sprinted back for the Rift. "She's not going to like this," Coop cautioned.
"Nobody will."
"Who's coming through, Marsh?" Ree asked.
"You wouldn't believe me, so you're just going to have to see for yourself . . . and have a little faith."
"Or a lot of faith," Coop added.
Zoe rounded the Guardians until she came to the edge of the Rift, and the battle zone. She raised her sword and screamed, "Hold back! Hold back! Let them through!"
The Guardians responded with confusion. How was it possible that their leader would be ordering them to back off? They ignored the command and continued to mow down as many spirits as they could.
Zoe lifted her sword and strode across the mouth of the Rift, forcing the Guardians to back off.
"Give way!" she commanded. "Do not attack!"
Some obeyed begrudgingly while others continued to slash and stab. Zoe had to swing her sword threateningly at her own people, forcing them to understand that she was dead serious.
"I said stand down!" she screamed.
Eventually every last Guardian obeyed and backed off, grumbling. They knew better than to challenge Zoe.
Making the situation more confusing was the fact that as soon as they stopped their defense, spirits came flooding through the Rift unhindered. They appeared by the dozens, taking one step into the Black and then disappearing in a cloud of color.
Zoe kept her back to the Rift. She knew what was happening from the horrified looks on the faces of the Guardians but didn't want to see it for herself. She had put her faith in Marsh and Cooper and had to believe she was doing the right thing.
The Guardians continued to retreat until there was a ten-yard buffer between the line of those holding spirit swords and the mouth of the Rift.
"We will stand down!" Zoe shouted so all could hear. "But stay ready. On my command, the defense will continue. Until then, do not attack any spirit that arrives."
Fearing that the temptation to continue the defense would prove to be too much for some of the Guardians, Zoe positioned herself in the dead center of her front line. She faced many inquisitive looks but didn't have the explanation they desperately needed, so she steeled herself and turned to face the swarm of spirits that poured from the Rift.
Morpheus Road 03 - The Blood Page 25
