“You don’t know anything,” Brad declared.
Livvy shook her head. “It’s over Brad. All of it. I know you’re not a shaman.”
“Shut up!” Brad screamed, his face red. He looked sideways at Valentin and then swung his glare back to her. “I am!”
Livvy smiled sadly at him. “No, Brad, you’re not,” Livvy said. She looked pointedly at Valentin. “And Valentin knows it, which is why he’s lied to you.”
“What?” Brad screamed, dumbfounded. “But…but Valentin loves me,” he declared.
“Like an addict loves his fix,” Livvy said. Valentin returned her glare and his upper lip twitched.
“And you love me,” Brad shrieked. “You do. You said so!”
With a slow shake of her head, Livvy grasped the pendant, gave the chain a sharp tug and broke it.
“No Brad,” she said. “Not that way. Not in the way you want.”
• • • • •
In the real world, SK watched the necklace fall to the floor. He stared at the translucent pendant. Liv had dropped it as though it were nothing. Out of nowhere, despite everything, sudden hope sprang into SK’s chest. He stood up. Min and Colin were staring at her too.
“The Multiverse was in flux when you first crossed over,” Livvy said to Brad. “It was an accident. A fluke.”
Tiamat in the Multiverse, SK thought. That was years ago.
“That was my fault and I’m sorry,” Livvy said. She paused as though she was listening, but then she shook her head. “The murals revealed the Stone, but you never understood that. Because you don’t have the dreams, do you? But the shamans can’t help themselves. They paint what they see.” She pointed at something. “This isn’t your spirit helper, because you’ve never been on a vision quest. No, Brad. You are not a shaman.”
• • • • •
In the Underworld, Brad’s hands clenched and unclenched, and Valentin carefully took a step away from him. The bear growled with a rumble so deep that Livvy barely heard it. Blanca crouched low to the ground, her hind haunches curled like tight springs. Valentin kept edging to Livvy’s right.
“So you think I’m not a shaman?” Brad yelled. He raised both palms to Livvy. “Cold!” he yelled.
Though Blanca tensed, Livvy only looked at him. Valentin merely cocked his head.
Brad stared at his hands. “Cold!” he screamed.
“Have you ever seen Valentin’s Multiverse power?” Livvy asked Brad. “I would guess not.”
Brad’s mouth hung open. His dazed look swung from her to his mentor.
“Believe it or not,” Livvy said, “it’s cold. Isn’t it Valentin?”
Valentin’s thin lips curled into a dangerous smile. The tips of his mustache lifted.
“The love potion, Brad,” Livvy said to him. “It doesn’t work on Valentin.” Valentin silently laughed now, his eyes glinting, almost happy. “There has to be love to begin with.”
“Stop it!” Brad cried out. “You’re lying! You’re just jealous!”
“Your first mentor in Siberia,” Livvy said, “is that where you got the Alatyr Stone? Did you use a love potion on her too?”
“It was for you!” Brad wailed. “I wanted the love potion for you. All of this was for you.”
“How can anyone really love you, Brad?” she asked.
He blinked at her. “What?”
“If no one really knows you,” Livvy said, “how can they love you?”
Dazed, he looked as though she were speaking a foreign language.
“It must have been hard for you,” she said, “without friends in school. Always on the outside.”
His face screwed up, and he was that young boy again. Tears fell down his cheeks, and Livvy reached out to him.
“No!” he yelled, backing up, wiping furiously at his eyes and nose. “I don’t want your pity!”
“Leave him alone,” Valentin said.
Livvy stepped back.
“Or what?” Livvy asked him, squaring off. “You’ll take my youth the way you took Brad’s?”
Valentin’s eyebrows went up. Blanca and the gray wolf had squared off as well. The bear creature had begun a strange sidestep toward the forest.
“What?” Brad said. “My…what?”
“The transformation,” Livvy said to Valentin. “It was too much. Brad is only eighteen and yet he looks much older. You keep him from his parents for a reason.”
Valentin’s mustache twitched. “That’s enough, Lightning Shaman,” he said.
He’s right. Time is running out.
“Where are the shamans?” she demanded. “The ones in comas in the Institute. Where is the Stone?”
A sly and wary look came over Valentin’s face, but for a split second he glanced at the bear. Without warning, they both attacked. But neither of them moved for her, instead they charged at Brad.
“No!” Livvy exclaimed. In the blink of an eye, she surged.
Brad had only begun to stumble back to her left, his face an image of terror. The bear’s enormous muzzle gaped open and lunged for him, Valentin a couple steps behind to the right. Without him seeing, Livvy passed directly in front of Valentin and grabbed the bear by the scruff of its huge neck. Even her enormous momentum barely changed the trajectory of the giant beast, but she yanked with all her might. They moved together now, the world blurring around them. Though its fangs flashed at her, it didn’t turn its head. Only its huge black eye rotated, and it fixed her with a steady, almost human stare. Something was wrong. As time snapped back into place, several things happened at once.
Brad screamed at the top of his lungs and popped out of existence. Blanca surged in from the side, only to be hit by the leaping gray wolf and sent careening across the snow. Livvy felt a burning across her right side and midsection and thrust the bear aside. As the bear tumbled away and she slid to a stop, Valentin was instantly on her.
It had all been a feint. They’d never meant to harm Brad.
CHAPTER SEVENTY
MAMACITA HAD JUST settled into the office chair when the sound of shattering glass launched her out of her seat. As the rolling chair zoomed away from her and hit the concrete wall with a clatter, she heard something hit the floor at the far end of the loft.
“What in damnation?” she muttered.
She hated to be startled. She patted her chest, trying to calm herself as she trundled by the shamans. It was obviously not going well on the other side. The lot of them was breathing harder than she’d ever seen. The glass hadn’t disturbed them in the slightest, as she knew it wouldn’t.
On the floor under the last tall window, white shards of glass were scattered everywhere. Mamacita gazed up at the broken pane. The entire rectangle was missing. Bright light spilled in and she shielded her eyes.
“Now what could have caused that?”
She’d been about to search but paused.
What is that smell?
She followed her nose and found the offending object in seconds. It lay not far from the unmade bed, which was also covered in glass. Almost camouflaged on the concrete floor was a gray tube of some sort. It was smoldering.
“Huh,” she muttered, picking it up. It was heavy. She tested the weight of it in her hand.
“Oh,” she said, almost ashamed it’d taken so long. “Oh, I know what this is.” She chuckled. “It has been a while,” she allowed herself.
It was a one-foot section of galvanized pipe, about an inch in diameter and capped at both ends. A short fuse at one of the caps sizzled. She reached for the glowing ember of it, about to snuff it out, when she had a different thought. She gazed up at the window.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-ONE
LIVVY DODGED RIGHT, away from Valentin. His fist flew past her head. Though momentum propelled him, he managed a lurching stop and whirled as Livvy backed away. What had to be warm blood trickled down her side–where the giant bear had managed to claw her–but Livvy didn’t dare look. Behind Valentin, Blanca was moving at lightning speed as well.
But between her and Livvy, the lumbering bear and darting wolf were managing to keep her at bay.
“You want to dance with the bear?” Valentin asked, his voice full of satisfaction. He flicked his gaze down to her side and grinned. “Then you better be light on your feet.”
Despite the burning sensation over her ribs, she pressed her hand down over them. Her heavy breaths came in white puffs that billowed between them. Valentin advanced, and she took a quick step back, then another. His thin smile broadened. She realized he wasn’t breathing hard.
There’s no telling the limits of his power, Livvy thought. He might be decades older than he looks.
As though he read her mind, his left hand darted into the air. His fingers seemed to clench on something, and suddenly he held an icicle. Livvy stared at it, quickly backpedaling. Thin, irregular, and a foot long, he hurled it, from twenty feet away.
Even as Livvy ducked at lightning speed, Valentin’s right hand plucked another icicle out of nothing. He threw that one as well. Livvy dived left with a single roll and shot up to her feet. Something like a glittering snowflake arced from his hand, spinning as it raced along a shallow curve toward her. But from his other hand came a perfect ice ball, also arcing. The two were converging.
I’m in no man’s land.
But retreat would invite the gale–and the horde. She surged forward, just inside the two projectile trajectories. They whizzed by on the right and left. As she moved, the Underworld slowed around her. But even with her blurring speed, Valentin was managing to track her. His arms continued to whirl, backhanded and over his head, so he never missed a beat, launching a barrage of projectiles. But there was a beat and evenly spaced gaps, with just enough room to pass between. She turned sideways, sidestepped, and rotated as a pointed snowflake slipped through the hair behind her neck. An icicle glided between her right elbow and side. Like a deadly dance, she moved closer. She pivoted and reversed direction, and as she did, she grabbed an icicle as it sailed by. Fifteen feet away, she used the momentum of her pivot to fling the missile back.
Valentin’s eyebrows slowly arched, but his next ice ball met her icicle in the air. They exploded in a puff of glittering crystals. Livvy took another step closer, but so did Valentin. For a moment, she thought of lightning. But in that momentary lapse of attention, one of the ice balls clipped her shin. The pain was shooting, but again, she didn’t dare look. She forced herself not to limp and then spun around. A snowflake sailed past her face so close she felt its breeze on her cheek.
Just another step.
Valentin was close enough that she could see what his hands were doing. As each one clenched, the air compressed in his fist with a puff until solid ice materialized. He had to be freezing the atmosphere, pulling the water from it. Another icicle formed. Though she kept his other hand in her peripheral vision, she focused on the icicle. He whipped it forward at her, impossibly close now. Though his other hand threw a snowflake, it was traveling toward her head. This was her chance.
She reached up as she hunkered low. Though she nearly missed it, her fingers managed to clutch the back end of the icicle as the snowflake zoomed by overhead. In one last, whirling spin, Livvy took a firm grip on the dagger of ice and sprang directly at Valentin. With both hands extended to the air, Valentin’s eyes went wide.
The Underworld blurred, and in the next second, the icicle thudded into his chest. A barking grunt was forced from his mouth. Almost as shocked as him, Livvy looked down. The icicle was buried to half its length.
“Gods,” Livvy gasped. What did I just do?
She jerked her hands away from the icy dagger. But as she stepped back, Valentin grabbed her shoulder.
“Not so fast,” he said between clenched teeth.
She jerked her gaze up to his face. For a man who’d just been impaled, Valentin was looking well. He cocked his head to look down at the icicle. As though he were curious, he simply grabbed the end and snapped it off.
Livvy winced at the cracking sound. She braced herself to see blood flow through the tear in the robe–but it didn’t. In fact, the flesh around the icicle was rigid and cracked. As Livvy watched, the icicle was drawn inward with a scraping sound. Flesh-colored frost filled the wound, and in moments, she was looking at undamaged skin. She had just begun to wonder if the same thing was taking place inside his body, when Valentin’s palm landed hard on her upper chest, pushing her back.
“Cold,” he hissed.
• • • • •
In the real world, SK stared at Liv’s glowing form. She stood like a statue.
What is going on?
He’d been about to step over Valentin when he realized Valentin was breathing hard. Sweat was pouring from him.
Just then Brad screamed and sat up, ripping the goggles off. SK barely had time to get out of his way.
“SK!” Min cried.
He spun back to her. It was another contraction.
“I’m right here,” he said, crouching next to her.
“I need Livvy,” she managed to get out through clenched teeth. “Now.”
“Babe,” Colin said, clutching her hand to his chest. “We need to get to a hospital.”
“No,” Min whispered harshly. “I need–”
She screamed. Her long wail sent a shudder down SK’s spine. Colin’s face registered shock. SK clutched her other hand. Her eyes popped open and she stared at him, trying to catch her breath.
“That helps,” she gasped.
What helps? He looked at their hands together. Is it a Lightning Shaman, Water Baby thing? Though he didn’t let go, he twisted in place. Liv was in exactly the same position. She hadn’t moved an inch.
“Liv,” he said.
• • • • •
Frost as painful as any heat shot through Livvy. She gasped and grabbed Valentin’s arm. His hand on her chest was like ice. His forearm was solid as rock. She tried to let it go, but her hands had stuck to it, her fingers frozen. She sucked in a wheezing breath, her lungs slow to respond. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out.
I’m freezing.
Livvy’s knees buckled, and she knelt with an uncontrolled thud in front of Valentin. Livvy heard his dry, quiet cackle. He casually glanced to the side.
“Cold,” he whispered.
The massive river flood that only Dominique could have produced instantly stilled and froze. Like a sculpture, the torrent became an undulating surface of pure, transparent ice. The Siberian shamans rushed across it.
Somewhere behind Valentin, the low rumbling of the bear and the snarling, snapping jaws of the wolf punctuated Blanca’s yowling and roaring. Livvy tried to stand, but Valentin easily forced her back down. Searing, blistering cold soaked into her core.
“The Stone is mine,” Valentin hissed.
Unvarnished hatred filled his face, and his desolate eyes never strayed from hers. He spread his fingers on her chest, and Livvy’s heart slowed. Her lungs refused to move. Inch by inch, she was becoming solid.
Though her eyes were lethargic, she managed to look at the cloudy sky. No thunder boomed. No lightning flashed. Her thoughts were sluggish. Numbness was taking over the pain. With an effort, she cast her eyes right.
There was SK! He was staring down at Min. She was clutching her unborn child.
With a final, gentle thump, Livvy’s heart stopped. For a moment, everything was peaceful, but then SK turned to her. His face was twisted in fear. His eyes looked directly into hers.
“Liv!” he screamed.
The sounds of the chaos around her returned, and electricity burst in the sky above. She let her eyelids fall closed.
Lightning, she silently mouthed.
• • • • •
Valentin flinched as the Multiverse exploded with millions of tendrils of electricity. So thin they could barely be seen, they streaked down simultaneously. Only some miracle had prevented him from being hit but–he could hardly believe his eyes–she had. Four brilliant purple filaments danced on her che
st between his splayed fingers. They blazed an inch in front of his face. It lit her hair a luminous violet. It felt like it was melting his fingers. He felt her hands grip his arm tighter. He grabbed her behind the neck and pressed harder.
“Cold,” he said. It surged from him with a biting sensation under his hand. Her eyes flicked up and met his. “Now you see,” he whispered, pressing down, “who has the real power.”
She tried to speak but only made a choking sound. Her eyes glazed over, no longer looking at him, but the electricity brightened. He squinted as it thickened. He felt heat on the tip of his nose and under his palm. He pulled his face back as far as arm’s length would permit. Her eyes–they blazed with an inner light. She stood. Though he tried to pull his hand back, she wouldn’t let him go. The electricity moved with her, dancing over her skin. In fact, the entire Underworld was bathed in its glow. Spirit helpers and shamans everywhere were hemmed in by it. She dragged him now, as though he were a child, one pace and then another, until she knelt.
What is she doing?
Again, he tried to yank his arm back, but her grip was like iron.
“You have something that doesn’t belong to you,” she said to him quietly. She reached out to the snow and seemed to touch something that wasn’t there. “Hold still, Brad,” she said. “You’re going to be fine.”
Brad?
“No!” Valentin screamed.
• • • • •
SK was watching Liv’s static-filled body crouching in front of Brad when Valentin took off his goggles. SK jumped up, backing into the metal case. He’d forgotten it was there and nearly toppled over it. By the time he righted himself, Valentin was sitting up–or trying.
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