“Rafael and Jeremy first figured out what was happening. They helped me control the nightmares, just by being there when I slept. I was a wreck when Jeremy died. I compensated by throwing myself into his work, just so I wouldn’t have to feel anything that would give Luscian an opening. Then you and Ruarc came into my life, and you became my anchors.
“I have lost everyone I ever loved. For a while, even you two, when he was busy being Imperator and I was too proud to admit that I should never have asked you to bring Toby back.”
“You didn’t speak to me about anything personal for years after that,” said Rory. His voice was carefully neutral. “You have no idea how much that hurt.”
“I know, and I’d take it back if I could. Eventually, I let you both back into my life, and I was happy again. I had reclaimed two of the people who meant the most to me. Then, after the birthday party, I thought you had prevented me from getting back one of the others.”
“Revenant isn’t Toby.”
“I know. I spoke to him, and he made it pretty clear. But for a moment, all I could see was you standing in my way. The rage was too near to the surface. I left to stop myself from letting it out.”
Rory sighed. “What can I do?”
“You can give me some space, and let me work this out on my own. I never want to raise a hand to you, Rory.”
Rory looked thoughtful. “Nick, I am the Redeemer. Nothing can hurt me permanently. Maybe, if you let some of the rage out, it will take the pressure off.”
Nick stared at him in horror. “Are you offering to be my punching bag, Leshir?”
Rory said nothing.
“Don’t you ever say that to me again.” Nick stood and glared down at his lover. “You will never offer yourself to me as a sacrifice. Never. Do you understand?”
Rory shrugged. “It was only one possibility.”
“No it wasn’t. It was a foul, poisonous thing you just said, and if I ever took you up on it, I would become just as evil as Luscian was.”
Rory met his eyes, unafraid. “All right, Nicholas. I’ll stay out of your way. I just wish there was something more I could do.”
“There’s nothing. As long as the Crown is tied to my soul, that’s just the way it is.”
Rory got to his feet. “Then I guess I’ll get started on this invest—” Then he staggered.
Nick caught him as he fell and eased him to the floor. “Rory, what’s wrong?”
The gloves Rory was wearing burst into flame, and the harsh white light of the Grace filled the room, exploding from his palms in a spherical shockwave that rattled the windows. Then the light faded, and Rory was left shivering in Nick’s arms.
Nick held him tight. “Leshir, talk to me. What happened?”
Rory forced himself to speak. “The Grace. It struck along a spiritual connection, just like it did during the Burning. I saw his memories as he burned.”
Nick tried to keep the dread from his voice. “Who was it?”
Rory looked up at him, his eyes wide and fearful. “Nick, I’m sorry. I don’t know why it happened.”
Nick swallowed. There was something raw and terrified in his lover’s eyes, and Nick knew the answer before he asked. There were not many Nightwalkers he kept close to his heart. “Who was it, Rory?”
Rory closed his eyes and turned away. “Rafael.”
CHAPTER 29
September 2142; Jumpvessel Singularity, Hephaestus Station, lunar orbit
The bridge was burning.
They were trapped in the center of the psychic span. There was a moment when Antonio could have escaped, but he clung to Rafael’s screaming spiritform as it writhed in agony. He could only watch helplessly as the white fire consumed his mentor’s mind and memories, while he remained untouched.
The circle of flames closed in on them as more of Rafael’s life was scorched away. Antonio could feel the power draining out of the Nightwalker’s spiritform, the vampire’s psychic image becoming more insubstantial as he watched. He looked out at the sea of blazing light as it marched inexorably closer. Finally, the flames scant inches away, he let go of Rafael and stood over him, his fists clenched as he screamed his defiance at the boiling conflagration. “I won’t leave! You take him and you take me, too!”
The firestorm froze in place, and the heat disappeared, along with the roaring of the flames. Then a pure, white light illuminated the bridge, softer than the harsh, actinic white of the fires that surrounded him. A voice echoed in his mind, filled with a subtle music he couldn’t quite make out.
“Ask and ye shall receive.”
Antonio lowered his fists. “Who are you? The White Wind? Another angel?”
“No.”
“Who then?”
“I am the scales and the sword of Justice, the power that you know as the Grace. Be at peace, Master. You will not be harmed.”
Antonio snarled as he understood. “You’re the Grace? And you’re judging him? You gave a second chance to Nightwalkers that have killed millions over the years! What has he done that is so bad that he can’t be forgiven?”
“Nothing. If he had been touched by the scales, he would have survived my judgment. But you do not wield the scales, Master. You touched him with the sword, and so he must die.”
“You’re speaking in riddles. Tell me what you’re talking about!”
“The Redeemer’s power is that of the scales. A scion of the Red Wind touched by that aspect of my power would face judgment, but yet may still have been found worthy of redemption. But you are not the Redeemer. You are the Harbinger come round at last, the final retribution. Your power is that of the sword. Your touch brings death to all the Children of Darkness.”
Antonio looked down at Rafael lying at his feet, features frozen in a rictus of pain. He looked out at the flames in horror. “I did this to him?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“He fed upon your blood and was cursed.”
“Lots of people have fed on my blood. It never did anything to them!”
“But never a Child of Darkness, Master. He is the first of your enemies to taste your true wrath.”
Antonio was about to deny it, but then realized that the voice was right. There had been only a handful of people with whom he had ever been comfortable enough to share his blood, and never at this terminus of his trips, under the watchful eye of his mother. There were no Nightwalkers outside the Solar system. It was a Guild regulation to facilitate the Great Work. It’s true. I did this. He looked out again over the endless expanse of the fire he now knew to be the Grace. “Not him. You can have any of the others, but not him. Please. Let him go.”
“Master, you are the Harbinger. It is your destiny to usher in a new age of peace by cleansing this world of the Red Wind. Why would you spare this scion of theirs?”
Antonio wept, standing over Rafael, in the center of the flames. “Because I love him. I always have.”
The voice was silent for a time. Perhaps it was shocked. “Master, I cannot save him. He is already filled with your power. A single drop would have sealed his death. He has tasted enough of your blood to smite an entire army. He can live only if you draw away the poison into a suitable vessel.”
Antonio’s head snapped up. “What kind of vessel?”
“Something similar enough to your blood that it may absorb my power and harbor the curse.”
“My blood is a mixture of vampire and Sentinel mystical signatures. There’s nothing in the world that is anything like Starchild blood!”
“Except Starchild blood, itself.”
Antonio forced away his panic and tried to think. “The other Children of Starlight don’t have this power?”
“No, only you are the Harbinger. This is your Gift alone. The others were meant to live in the world that you will create.”
“How do I draw off the power to them?”
“Master, if you pass my power to your brethren, then their blood will become as yours: lethal, no matter how i
nfinitely diluted.”
“Will it hurt them?”
“No. The Children of the White Wind will be unaffected. But you will condemn them to become weapons of war, instruments of the White Wind, just as Narissa committed her people to become Sentinels unto the last generation. This is not the purpose for which they were created.”
“I don’t care. Just let him live.”
“Is this truly your will?”
“Yes.”
“Very well, Master. Your fealty is accepted. The Children of Starlight will answer to you, and through you, to the White Wind. Reach out to your soldiers and cast yourself into the fire. My power will be drawn along the spiritual links to ground itself in their bodies.”
Antonio reached out with his mind, and suddenly, he could feel them all, even scattered across three star systems and traveling the void. The Children of Starlight felt his touch as well, and Antonio could feel their eyes upon him as they realized who he was. “Brothers and sisters,” he thought to them. “I am sorry.”
Then he turned away from them and walked calmly into the flames.
THE BRIDGE
CHAPTER 30
September 2142; Citadel Central Infirmary, Lunar Farside
Rory stepped inside the waiting room and faced his family, who watched him expectantly. He closed and locked the door behind him.
Antonio was the first to speak. “How is he?”
Rory gave him a long, measuring glance. “His higher functions appear to be intact, and his memory is repairing itself based on the residual psychic template remaining after the attack. Mentally, he should probably recover completely, though I’ll probably check in on his thoughts every couple of hours.”
“I could help with—”
Rory cut him off. “No, you can’t. You may have the power, but not the skill. The slightest error right now could snuff out his mind like a candle flame, and not even the Grace can rebuild his psyche without a framework.”
“You shouldn’t be involved anyway,” said Nick, looking out the window at the numberless stars. “You’re too emotionally invested.”
Rory nodded. “I agree. Other than the damage to his mind, the fact that he’s somehow become a Daywalker should speed his physical recovery, since he’s regenerating without the need for blood feeding.” He sat in a chair next to Lorcan, who reached up and draped his arm over Rory’s shoulders.
“Walk us through it again, Antonio,” said Layla. “Everything you can remember about what it said.”
Antonio slumped in his chair and tried to recite the conversation as best he could.
“I always thought the Grace responded like a living creature,” said Rory. “It’s too unpredictable to be a simple tool.” He shook his head wearily. “I never dreamed it could be sentient though, or capable of speech.”
“Lethal, no matter how infinitely diluted.” Layla leaned forward intently. “You’re sure that’s what it said? And the other Harbingers are the same way?”
Nick turned around to face her. “Layla, now’s not the time.”
Layla glanced up at Nick for a moment, then refocused her attention on her son. “What happened to Rafael was regrettable, but we must understand the implications of Antonio’s actions. If Harbinger blood is now a weapon, we have to learn the scope of its power before we can decide upon a responsible course of action.”
Antonio glared at her. “What makes you think you get to decide anything?”
She regarded him calmly. “Because you choose not to rule. That leaves me to pick up the pieces.”
Antonio stood and stared at her. Then he turned and went to the door. “I need some air.” He unlocked the door and walked out.
Nick sighed. “Ruarc, would you please keep an eye on him?”
Lorcan raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Of course.” He stood and followed after Antonio.
Rory locked the door again from the inside. Then he faced the others. “The three of us need to have a serious discussion.”
“We do,” said Layla angrily. “Starting with why you sent the leader of the Court of Shadows to watch over a man whose blood is poison to Nightwalkers.”
“It proved Nick trusted him,” said Rory. “And it gave Ruarc an excuse to honorably give us the privacy to talk about what could potentially be an entire new phase in the war against the race he represents.”
Layla cocked her head as she looked at Nick. “Subtlety, Nicholas? I had forgotten what it looks like on you.”
“Everything changes,” said Nick. He leaned back against the wall and folded his arms in front of him. “Why are you pushing Tony so hard? Don’t you know how he feels about Rafael?”
“Of course I do,” she snapped. “And as soon as my son admits it to me, then he and I are going to have a very pointed conversation.”
“All of that aside, what the hell are we going to do about this mess?” asked Rory. “I mean, we can’t use the Harbingers as bait for the Nightwalkers to snack on.”
“There must be a way to use this power against the Court,” said Layla. “Otherwise, the Grace wouldn’t have said Antonio has a destiny to fulfill.”
“Since when do you care what the White Wind wants?” asked Nick.
Layla snarled at him, her eyes shifting to red. “They will not take Antonio from me the way they took Tobias. They knew he would die, so they named you Champion. The smallest word of warning could have preserved his life, but they do nothing if it does not impact their interests. I will not be a pawn in their games ever again, and neither will my son. But this new power makes him a target. I must understand it before I can take steps to protect him.” She faced Rory. “I need you to determine how powerful this curse is, and what its limits are, if any.”
Rory nodded. “I can do that. I’ll also see if I can make contact with the Grace on my own. It might be able to answer my questions.”
“We’ll have to move fast,” said Nick. “The doctors knew something was up as soon as they discovered Raf was a Daywalker. No conversion has ever involved this level of damage without causing death. Sooner or later, Ghian is going to hear of it.”
“And he will want to use the weapon immediately,” said Layla. “He is still the Wind of Earth at heart, and he will not balk at genocide.”
* * *
Rory knelt on the floor with his eyes closed, focusing on his breath as he meditated. When he felt perfectly calm and centered, he stretched his mind toward the cross brands in his palms. He felt the immense power contained within, like he held a pair of fusion reactors in his grasp.
He touched the power and let a trickle flow into him, a tiny morsel of infinity. His entire being vibrated with the strength that flowed through him, but instead of casting the power from him in a spell as he normally would have, he gathered the energy up into a tight coil of potency in the center of his mind. Then he tried to form a psychic link with it. “Can you hear me?”
“I can. Greetings, Master.”
“You’re the Grace?”
“That is the name by which you know me.”
“What are you?”
“I am the scales and the sword of Justice, an avatar of the mercy and the vengeance of Heaven made manifest.”
“Why haven’t you ever spoken to me before?”
“In truth, my mind was not fully aware until the Harbinger woke the other half of my existence.”
“You told him his blood was to cleanse the world of Nightwalkers. Is that true?”
“Yes. He is the last piece to be placed on the game board of your world. All the elements are now at your disposal to complete the task before you.”
“The Great Work.”
“Yes.”
“Why did they give this other aspect of your power to Antonio?”
“In all things there must be balance. You are the Redeemer, the instrument of redemption, a creative force. It is forbidden for either side to intervene unilaterally on this plane. The Red Wind’s bargain with Luscian to create the Firstborn gave the White Wind
leave to create the Sentinels in opposition. So it was with the Grace.”
Rory considered that. “You mean the Red Wind gave someone else a similar power and the Grace was created to oppose it?”
“Yes. The power of the scales and the sword are a direct answer to the Red Wind’s gift to Luscian of the knowledge and strength necessary to create the Crown of Souls and the artifact blade Reaper.”
“But that was thirty thousand years ago!”
“All eras are one. Time is an illusion of those confined to this plane, a constraint which does not apply to those without.”
Smug bastard,thought Rory on a deeper layer of his thoughts, but he let none of that bleed into the psychic link. “Could I use your power to release some of the souls in the Crown? Nick has always wanted to dismantle the damn thing.”
“That I do not know, Master. The Crown is my equal and opposite. If Nicholas wishes to understand the limitations of the Crown, perhaps he should address his questions to it, as you have done with me.”
“Wait. Are you saying the Crown is sentient?”
“It is.”
Nick’s not going to like that.Rory decided to leave that tidbit of information for another day. “So, tell me about Antonio’s power. How can he hold the Grace without channeling a pure draw as I do?”
“The Harbinger only wields the Grace, Master. It is you who was given the burden of carrying my physical presence in this world. Both of you together are required to carry out your task.”
“And if we succeed, what then? Will you leave me and return to the higher planes?”
“The knowledge of my own fate is hidden from me. However, I am bound to your soul. I can no more leave you than you could cast your soul aside.”
“Wait. They told me I would be free once the Great Work was complete.”
“You will serve until the last scion of the Red Wind is judged or destroyed. That includes you, Master.”
“Are you saying I have to die for the Great Work to be complete?”
“Perhaps.”
Rory opened his eyes as he lost his mental focus and the mental link broke. Layla was right. Screw them and their power games. I’ll find another way.
Starlight(Pact Arcanum 4) Page 15
