by Allie Burton
Chapter Twenty-Two
Math
The secret tunnel leading to the Convergence Ceremonial Room seemed smaller, longer, and more claustrophobic to Math than when he had traveled through the tunnel with Piper. With Piper the tunnel had felt intimate. Maybe because Olivia, Xander, Aria, Falcon, and Ash were following behind him. Maybe because Piper’s life was at risk. Maybe because time was running out.
He feared for Piper’s safety and the security of the Trumpet of Peace and its powers. His frustration came from Piper’s betrayal. How could she steal the trumpet and leave without saying goodbye?
His blood pressure steamed again. Not that he was upset about the not saying goodbye part. Not really. He was upset about the theft. If she’d told him the truth, he would’ve found a way to help.
His heart struggled to keep an even beat. He and his black-clad Soul Warriors scurried through the secret tunnel. He wanted to run ahead, burst into the ceremony room, fight her captors, and save Piper. He had to be patient. Timing was important. Timing to the tenth of a second. On Pi Day, in the fifteenth hour, at nine minutes and twenty-six seconds.
When he’d first realized the trumpet and Piper were gone, he thought he’d never recover. He believed his feelings for her had blinded him to her lies. That his emotions had taken control of his brain. He’d self-destructed with despair. Fury and foolishness had twined into a knot in his gut.
He’d calmed himself and started putting pieces of the intricate puzzle that was Piper together. Every meeting, every look, every word exchanged between them he’d examined as if using a microscope. She’d given him hints. She’d wanted to tell him something yesterday after visiting her Mom. She’d truly cared for him. He had to believe.
He’d paid Uncle Louie a second visit. Learned the truth about Piper’s background. Ash had used his muscle to force Louie to talk. Math had used his mind to figure out where she’d go and what she’d do.
He stepped into the anteroom outside the secret Convergence Ceremony Room. His brothers followed, and Olivia and Aria, willing to help in his quest to save the trumpet and Piper.
He needed his brain. His smarts were important and part of him. Yes, he’d wanted to prove he had muscle and could conquer a quest, but using his intelligence would be part of his success. It was part of him.
He accepted that.
And he’d realized why from the beginning Piper had lied.
She’d worked with him to retrieve the trumpet, and then she was forced to betray him by stealing the instrument.
His knees quaked like he was simply a nerd stepping into a fight. He knew that wasn’t the reason. His knees trembled because of his fear for Piper’s safety.
Even though she’d lived with the Order, Piper did not understand the cruelty of their practices. She wasn’t knowledgeable about their processes and ceremonies and sacrifices. She didn’t understand that once she knew what the Order was involved in, they wouldn’t let her walk away.
Math had to save Piper, even if she didn’t realize she needed saving.
The harsh, screeching tune of the trumpet entered the small room at the end of the passage. The pulse points at his wrists and neck pounded in a panicky rhythm. His ears hurt from the sound.
The other warriors scrunched their faces or covered their ears. They were protected from the trumpet’s effects, a smart precaution taken.
The Soul Warriors packed into the small, hidden antechamber, waiting for Math’s signal. The muscles on their faces tense. The smell of nervous sweat filled the small space. They had to time this to the precise second to save Piper and her mother. Falcon’s tortured expression showed his anxiety for the viability of the protection. He’d suffered for centuries with the effects of the war trumpet and only overcame the anguish with his love for Aria.
Math peeked into the ceremonial room and gasped.
Piper kneeled on the raised altar, playing the silver trumpet she held in front of her. Her watery eyes and tear-streaked cheeks were evidence she’d been crying. She wasn’t in a trumpet-induced trance, though. She didn’t seek the power. Her gaze darted around, either searching for escape or vengeance.
She held her shoulders straight and spirited. Her eyes might be wet, but they were determined. His panic soothed. He was proud of her.
A body lay by her side. A thin woman with blonde hair, wearing an embroidered ceremonial tunic. The vessel. The sacrifice. Piper’s mother?
His chest squeezed, knowing how much Piper loved her mother. He could tell by the way she’d talked about her being sick. She was only a few feet away and yet he couldn’t comfort her or warn her about their attack.
Math glanced at his watch. The Soul Warriors only had a few seconds before the exact time of Pi. They needed to make their move soon. He signaled them to get ready to launch.
About a dozen Order members chanted and bowed, standing around the platform. Aaron, their leader, stood in front of the dais performing ritualistic movements. His tense expression and excited gaze showed he believed he’d won.
He better think again.
Math held in a grim smirk. He and his Soul Warriors were determined to win this fight.
Piper stopped playing and stood. Her mouth pursed into a determined line. Her eyes were wide and clear, as if she’d come to a decision and was at peace.
“What’re you doing?” Aaron’s body stopped moving. “It’s almost time. Keep playing!”
“My mother,” Piper’s voice broke. “is fighting for me.”
Horror screeched through Math’s ribcage, shredding his lungs. No! Piper would never know peace if she used the Akh, and neither would her mother. He raised his hand to give the signal.
Ash grabbed his arm. “It’s not time.”
Math shook Ash’s hold off, knowing his friend was right. They couldn’t start the rescue attempt yet. Not until the precise time. “If we have an Akh on our side, the fighting should be easy.”
“I don’t sense an Akh.” Falcon would know. His connection to the Trumpet of War gave him extra sensitivity to souls and essences.
Math’s nerves screamed. He was on high alert, so close, wanting to hold Piper in his arms, knowing the timing wasn’t right.
Aaron’s full laugh echoed into the ceremonial room and scoured Math’s back.
“Part of the funeral rights ceremony and playing the trumpet at this precise time gives me control of the Akh and those connected to the Akh.” Aaron’s evil-gleeful grin sliced and ruptured in Math’s gut. “So I will control you, too.”
A sharp-edge pain shot through Math’s heart. Was he too late to save Piper?
Her expression changed slowly, from challenging the man to fear. Or was she pretending fear? Her bow-shaped mouth had dropped open, yet her gaze assessed the situation and held a determined sharpness.
Math’s lightning-quick thought process solved the problem. Piper had played the trumpet at the professor’s house to get past Olivia and Aria. So technically, Piper controlled the Ahk. If the Akh existed, because Falcon didn’t sense one.
“How can I serve you?” Piper’s voice sounded flat and emotionless.
Was she under the leader’s control? Math glimpsed Falcon shaking his head.
“Start by moving away from your mother’s body so we can complete the ceremony.” The leader held out his hand to help Piper off the dais.
The contents of Math’s stomach shifted. Maybe his calculations were wrong and the leader did control Piper. Maybe he’d lost her forever.
She stepped forward. Her expression blank and staring straight ahead. Instead of taking the leader’s hand, she held the trumpet like a club and swung at his head.
Happiness lightened Math’s insides. Exhilaration electrified his soul. His stomach calmed and strength sailed to the surface. He gave the signal to the Soul Warriors to attack. “Let’s go!”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Piper
As if me smashing the trumpet against Aaron’s head was a signal, Soul Warriors poured ou
t from the secret tunnel Math and I had found earlier. I froze, too shocked to continue my attack. I scanned each emerging warrior. Olivia and Xander and Falcon and Aria and Ash charged from the tunnel. I didn’t stop aching and yearning until I saw Math.
My glance swept over him in seconds, noting his messy hair and worried-angry expression. His mouth sat in a straight line and his chin tilted to a determined angle. He held a long stick in his hands.
My heart clutched, missing a beat, then revved faster. He’d come to save me.
My heart spun out of control. Or had he come to save the trumpet?
It didn’t matter. What mattered is I wasn’t alone against Aaron and his flunkies. Even if the Soul Warriors weren’t on my side, they were fighting to take the trumpet, maybe they’d take me with them.
Total chaos reigned in the room, no ceremony the gods and goddesses had ever seen. Warriors clashed with members. Statues were broken. Blood was spilled.
Using the height of the platform to my advantage, I swung the trumpet at Aaron again. He tried to climb on the platform, clawing his way toward me. He fell backward and tumbled into a few members, taking them down. I hoped the Warriors recognized I fought on their side. I didn’t want Aaron to control the trumpet or me.
Math fought his way to the edge of the platform. His arm muscles bulged, swinging the long wood stick. It resembled a broomstick, except he wasn’t sweeping with the weapon.
“Did they hurt you?” His concern caused fluttering in my chest.
Maybe he did care about me. “You don’t hate me?”
“How can I hate you?” Pausing, he jumped high in the air and kicked at an attacking member. “You hold my heart in your hands.”
I responded, melting at his words. Poetic words that soothed my heart, but not my conscience. “I betrayed you.” With agony, I reminded him.
Aaron grabbed my leg. I swatted his fingers with the trumpet and moved out of his reach.
Math scrambled onto the platform and stood beside me. He glanced at my mother’s body and his gaze glinted. “I understand why.”
He used the stick to knock out two more members.
Lightness seeped into the dark of my soul. How could I be sad and happy at the same time? Sad because of losing Mom and happy because of finding Math.
Three other members managed to climb onto the platform. I swung my leg like Math had showed me and knocked one back. And not just a few inches. The man flew across the room.
My muscles tensed and my eyes widened. I dropped the trumpet to the ground. “Math?”
He copied my action with another attacker. “Your powers are coming in strong.”
Similar to being struck by a car, the meaning plowed into me and dragged me under. Sure, I had a connection to the trumpet and my blood was linked and I’d done a couple of incredible things. But powers, as in S-U-P-E-R P-O-W-E-R-S?
Trying to think, I fisted my hands and clocked another attacking member. He also flew across the room. Similar to what I’d done to Aaron earlier when I’d only shoved him.
Math kicked a new attacker and sent me a glance that curled my toes. “You’ve played the trumpet.” He used his weapon to clear the area immediately around the platform. “You’re connected to the trumpet.”
Math grabbed my hand and pulled me against him. His mouth descended on mine in a passionate, powerful, and punishing kiss.
I deserved all three, wanted all three.
With a break in the action, I returned the kiss, pouring my feelings into the connection. My mouth moved against his aggressively, proving I’d fight for us. I pressed my body against his. My hand tousled his hair, my fingers swirling the short strands.
My spine tingled. A woo-woo sensation sent a warning.
Sensing an attack, I broke off the kiss. “Watch out.”
Disappointment at the short kiss caused my veins to fizzle. I wanted time to talk and kiss Math. To explain and ask for forgiveness. Instead, I twisted and flicked my hands.
Two fireballs flew from my fingertips and hit the two attackers.
Fireballs.
My chest seared as if I’d been struck by the fireball. I stumbled back, almost tripping on Mom’s body.
The members’ robes caught fire. They screamed and stamped on their torsos with flat palms. Both of them fell to the floor.
Shock sparked, recharging a battery. My battery. A battery igniting and catching fire. “What. Was. That?”
Math’s emerald eyes widened. His brow furrowed, calculating in his mind. “You must’ve inherited powers through your father.”
The men threw off their burning robes and stomped them to the ground. Their charred faces were pale white underneath the streaks of black.
I’d burned them. Fire had flown from my fingertips.
“How do you know about my father?” I sucked in a breath, needing to cool the fire burning inside me. “I don’t want to make fire. I don’t want to burn people.” Images of waving hello and setting people on fire burst in my brain. Panic frazzled my entire body.
The remaining cloaked members stopped fighting. The Soul Warriors paused. Everyone in the room stared at me. Their eyes glowed with amazement. The glow circled, surrounded and seemed to entrap.
I held my hands in front of me as if they were foreign objects. Foreign weapons of mass destruction. I tried to control the shaking. Where had the fire come from?
The Soul Warriors and the Order members expected me to wreak havoc upon them. I wouldn’t, but…
“Stop fighting or I will burn this entire place down and everyone in it.” I used a fake-forceful voice, trying to sound in command. Glancing at Olivia’s super-pale face, I winked. “The Soul Warriors have won this battle. They will take control of you and any relics they deem magical.”
Olivia gave a signal and the warriors moved into action.
I dropped my hands, afraid to lift them up for fear of setting something or someone on fire. My face was probably as white as Olivia’s. Now we both had reason to fear fire.
I took a step back. My entire body trembled, shifting my insides to places they shouldn’t be. Then again, my insides should not produce fire.
Math reached for my hands.
I shook him off, too afraid to let him touch me. “No, What if I burn you? I don’t know how I did that or how to control the fireballs.” Suffocating, I took in short, shallow puffs of air. I was going to die from smoke inhalation—from smoke on the inside of my body. “It’s not a power, it’s a weakness.”
My gaze scanned the room. Most of the Order members were knocked out, injured, or held by one of the Warriors. Aaron was lying on the ground, Ash’s foot on his chest. I didn’t see Babi.
The fight was over. Good had won.
But was I good? Or did evil reside inside of me? Would I be tortured like Mom?
“I can teach you how to control your powers. Control the fire.” Math grabbed my hands, not letting go. “Once the Trumpet of Peace is united with the Trumpet of War, balance will be restored. Inside,” he touched my collarbone. “And out.”
I listened, yet didn’t hear. Alarm—my own personal smoke detector—tugged at my chest, tightening my lungs. I tried to pull away from Math. “It’s a weakness. You don’t understand because you don’t have a weakness.”
His expression grew serious with sincere eyes and a frown. “You are my only weakness.”
I gulped down air, trying to simmer down. “How am I your weakness?”
“When you left.” His eyes hooded. “I went mad. Couldn’t think or function. Thought about giving up, believed I was stupid, weak.”
“We are only weak when we’re apart.” I could finally breathe and understand. “Together, we are strong, smart, and powerful.”
He kissed me again, showing me our combined strengths.
* * *
The other Soul Warriors were handcuffing those that lived and saying chants over those that died.
Math kneeled at Mom’s head and said an incantation in ancient Egyptia
n. His soothing tone matched his calm expression. The fight was over. Mom was gone.
Sadness flowed with peace inside me. “What did you do?”
Math touched her forehead and leaned back. “Said a chant to help guide her to a better place.”
“I’ll never see or hear from her again.” I was at a loss. I’d looked out for Mom for so long.
He took my hand and held it tight. “That’s right.”
“At the end, she finally stood up for me, wanted to fight for me.” I finally respected Mom. If she hadn’t been tormented by the trumpet or riddled with drugs she would’ve been a better mom. She’d run from Egypt and my father in the beginning and wanted to fight by my side at the end. “Finally took care of me.”
“You communicated with her after she died?”
“Yes.” I sniffled, trying to hold back my sadness. Mom was in a better place. “She was going to fight the Order with me as my Akh. I couldn’t let her live, or not live, that way.”
He stroked my cheek, his finger demonstrating tenderness and pride. “You’re very brave and very compassionate.”
“If I’d been brave I would’ve gotten her away from the Order years ago.” Self-loathing hit renewing the pain of loss.
“You didn’t know the Order’s plan. Their scheme to use you and your mother.”
“I knew stealing the trumpet from you was wrong.” The angst of my betrayal sliced through my midsection. “How can you forgive me?”
“You stole the trumpet to save your mom.” He pulled me into the protection of his arms. “It took me a while to realize that.”
I wiped at my misty eyes. “Didn’t do much good.”
He ran his fingers through my hair. “Your mom is in a better place. No more illness, addiction or internal torture.” He kissed my forehead. “We’ve taken down the cult aspects of the Order of Crucis. Damaged their leadership.” He kissed my cheek. “And we’ve recovered the Trumpet of Peace.”
