by Cory Barclay
The hand that gripped Steve’s shoulder flinched. Geddon’s face had become tight and unreadable. It was an odd sight, one that made Steve furrow his brow in confusion. He followed Geddon’s eyes and realized his friend was staring at Malachite’s face, not Tetsuo’s.
“Well?” Richard said at last, holding his arms out wide. “You said you wanted to parley.”
“Yes,” Geddon said.
“And here we are. But I’m going to make you say it.” A mischievous grin flashed and disappeared from the Overseer’s face.
At that moment, Steve knew something was wrong. His eyes became unfocused and his heart started beating faster. He looked over to Annabel and she seemed as confused as he felt.
Steve tried to shrug away from Geddon, but could not. The man’s grip was iron-tight on his shoulder.
Geddon sighed. Still staring ahead at Overseer Malachite, he said, “Whatever it takes.”
“Give him the terms, Geddy,” Steve said, nudging his chin forward a bit. “Tell him how we plan to dissolve—”
“Overseer Malachite,” Geddon interrupted, not looking at Steve. “I have brought you your son, as you asked months ago, to exchange for our leader, Tetsuo. Will you make good on your promise?”
Richard nodded. “I will. It is a fair swap.”
Steve’s eyes bulged as Geddon’s words came out. His world came crashing down and all he could do was stammer in disbelief.
His heart felt like it was going to explode from his rib cage. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing—this was almost more surprising than learning his father still lived.
“G-Geddon, what are you doing?” Selestria asked, stepping forward.
“I concur, Geddon,” Steve said, using his formal name rather than “Geddy” for the first time in a long time. “What are you doing?”
“This wasn’t part of the plan, mate,” Aiden said, moving alongside Selestria.
“It was,” Geddon said, refusing to meet Steve’s stare. His voice was strong but sad. “This has been the plan all along, my friends, and I’m sorry to do it. But it must be done.”
A wave of rage passed through Steve as he came to the sudden realization that Geddon was betraying him.
He’s been my friend all along . . . making me earn his trust . . . watching as I did things for him to further the Kinship cause. Risking my life! And all along I should have been the one seeking his trust!
How the fuck did I not see this coming?!
“You fucking bastard!” Steve cried out. Blackguards were suddenly alongside him and prodding him with their spears, forcing him down the aisle.
Tetsuo squeezed passed Steve, coming from the other direction, also led by blackguards.
Steve’s helpless, pitiful gaze met Annabel and he saw fear plastered on her face. She so badly wanted to do something.
“Nawao! Strike now!” Steve called out desperately.
But the treeline didn’t move or stutter—the only movement came from a few branches blowing in the wind. It wasn’t his order to command.
Steve felt panic rising up inside him like vomit. He wasn’t sure if his life was in peril any longer, but he knew he was being separated from everyone he’d learned to love . . .
Annabel was part of a family no longer associated with the Brethren, because Steve had broken up their union.
Does that mean I’ll never see her again? Where will my father take me? Am I a prisoner?
A million other questions rippled through his mind, but he couldn’t focus on any of them, so lost was he in his blind rage.
He struggled to push away the blackguard soldiers, but they were familiar with rowdy rebels. They kept their spears leveled near his neck, ready to stab him if he tried anything violent.
Steve felt his head sway and he thought he was losing consciousness. No one would stick up for him. This was it.
Then Annabel screamed.
It was an ear-piercing, shattering wail filled with dread and anger and blasphemy—a sound so loud that it brought everyone around to their knees.
Steve thought his eardrums would burst, his hands instinctively covering his ears. He tried to look at Bel but her eyes were clenched shut, her hands in tight fists in front of her. Her mouth was open impossibly wide.
The banshee’s shriek swept over the congregation like a tsunami barreling through the woods.
“Argh!” Overseer Malachite cried out, going to one knee.
The two guards with spears on Steve lifted their weapons, needing to cover their own ears.
This wasn’t a random act of unfocused rage from Annabel, Steve understood. This was a diversion.
Steve used it to his advantage. He leaped away from the encircling blackguards and sprinted toward Annabel.
Constantin Lee stepped in front of Steve. The vampire seemed the least affected by his daughter’s screeching. He’d probably heard it plenty throughout his life.
Steve reached out, under Constantin’s arm, toward Annabel.
Annabel’s eyes opened as her shrieking died. She reached out too, gripping Steve’s forearm.
Constantin roared and bared his teeth to bring down on Steve’s neck—
And then Steve was gone.
Steve looked around and saw only Annabel and a translucent ghost of Constantin. Everyone else in the congregation had vanished.
Constantin’s head darted around, fear on his face, wondering where Steve and his daughter had gone.
Steve had managed to dream-leap in his moment of distress, and he’d taken Annabel with him.
She embraced him. “Oh, Steve, what is going on?”
“I don’t know, my love.”
“What the hell are you doing here?” a voice called from nearby.
Steve jumped out of Annabel’s arms and stood in front of her, to shield her.
Steve’s father stood before them. Overseer Malachite—Richard Remington—whatever you wanted to call him. Somehow, Steve had dream-leaped into his own father’s mind.
And Richard didn’t look too pleased.
“What do you want with me, father?” Steve asked. “Why do you want me and why did you trade Tetsuo for me?”
“I want you to join me here, son. Is that so much to ask? For a father and son to work together?”
“We’ve never gotten along,” Steve said.
“That can change. I have changed.”
“I can tell,” Steve replied. “And I still don’t like it. If anything, you’ve become worse. You’ve become a monster.”
Richard flinched. His face formed into a vicious grimace. “How dare you!” he screamed, stepping forward toward Steve and Annabel.
Steve blinked. When he opened his eyes, he was back at the wedding, surrounded by Constantin and Mariana Lee, and the rest of the audience.
He had lost his connection to Ethereus.
Did I do that myself? Did I lose my power?
He feared Annabel would be taken from him again, so he turned around and embraced her, gripping her tight.
“I won’t lose you again,” he whispered in her ear.
Constantin stepped toward Steve and Annabel.
Steve backpedaled, pushing Annabel behind him.
Another shriek roared over the crowd. Steve’s head swiveled—following the sound—as did everyone else’s.
It wasn’t as loud or powerful as Annabel’s wailing.
It was a shriek of dismay.
And it came from Selestria.
“NO!” the nymph cried.
Steve squinted, trying to see what was going on.
His eyes widened.
Tetsuo and Geddon were embracing, like friends who’d been parted for so long ought to do.
But something shiny reflected off Tetsuo.
It was a dagger in his back.
“W-What?” Steve stammered.
Tetsuo sank in Geddon’s arms, falling to his knees. Geddon gently guided his body to the ground.
Tetsuo reached up, the old samurai’s mouth agape, his bo
dy shaking. Blood spilled down his chin.
Selestria ran to her fallen husband, hands on her head. To Geddon, she screamed, “You monster! H-How could you?!”
Geddon put his hands together as if in prayer. He stepped forward and tried to take Selestria in his arms, but was rebuffed and pushed away.
“Sela, I love you!” Geddon cried out for all to hear. “I’ve been doing this all for you!”
“I love my husband!” Tears streaked down Selestria’s face.
“He was weak, my love, and stifling us—don’t you see?” Geddon said. “With him gone, you and I can lead the Kinship together!”
“Soldiers, I’ve seen enough,” Overseer Malachite said from the other side of the aisle.
The stupefied blackguards came to their senses and put their spears forward.
Then all hell broke loose.
“Koa!” Geddon shouted at the top of his lungs.
Arrows flew in from the darkness, rippling the air from the midst of the trees. As blackguard bodies fell from the barrage, Nawao warriors came into view.
Steve ducked as an arrow whizzed past him.
On the other side of the clearing, Barns let out a great roar. He stampeded down the aisle, his battleaxe arched in his hand. He charged toward Overseer Malachite.
Jareth Reynolds stepped in front of Barns’ terrible charge and raised his hands. His eyes glowed red and steam rose from his clothes. His tuxedo burst into flames and his skin seemed to melt away, replaced by molten, orange skin. He grew in size. The heat emanating from his body was enough to make Steve and Annabel back away in fear and disbelief.
Jareth transformed into the Hulk, except instead of being green he was orange and red and covered in flames. All notion of humanity left him. His face became gruesome and demonic. Curved horns spiked from his head.
He looked like the Devil incarnate.
Mid-charge, thick tufts of fur sprouted from Barns’ skin. His body grew as he shifted into something like a two-legged bear. He roared and swung his axe at Jareth.
Jareth caught the blade in his fiery hands. The steel turned neon orange and then melted, oozing to the ground like magma.
“I think it’s time to go,” Steve yelled behind him, to Annabel. She said nothing but grabbed hold of his shirt.
Steve pulled Annabel with him. He didn’t know where he was going—anywhere away from the heat of Jareth’s molten skin.
A blackguard stood in his way to blockade his passage.
Steve took out his flimsy little butcher knife and gritted his teeth.
The blackguard’s eyes opened in surprise.
A split second later, something shiny smacked into the blackguard’s forehead, embedding itself above the bridge of his nose. His eyes rolled back and he fell.
Aiden ran up alongside Steve, another gold coin ninja star in his hand.
“You two seem to be the only ones with any sense around here!” the leprechaun said. The trio ran past the fallen body of the blackguard.
Steve glanced over his shoulder as he ran. He saw Jareth Reynolds’ fiery hand grip Barns’ hairy arm and yank it away from his body. Barns screamed as his arm detached at the shoulder and was thrown aside like a burning log. After an initial spurt of blood, the wound cauterized and blackened.
The great warrior took a step back in shock, his berserker bear form failing him. His face showed sudden recognition of his human form.
Jareth’s hand circled around Barns and lashed out, grabbing his face. Barns screamed in agony, his head bursting into flames. The big man’s fiery, headless body dropped to the ground like a smoldering tree.
Steve winced and looked away, watching to see where he ran.
Misty the cat-turned-spy was in front of him, wagging her long, pointed nails. She staggered like a feline. Then she hissed and stepped forward.
Steve lunged—an unexpected tactic—and punched the witchy woman in the face.
Misty went down clutching her jaw, crying out for her master.
All around them, the battle raged. Nawao and blackguards fought each other with spears and arrows. Noblemen and women from the Brethren Council tried to flee the violent, chaotic scene in any direction, dashing into the woods.
Steve was running toward the carriage. He didn’t know why, but that’s the direction he was going, and he was so close . . .
Then Tiberius was in front of him.
“Godammit!” Steve cried out, annoyed that so many people blocked his passage. His feet came to a halt and he put up his fists, drawing a cruel smile from Tiberius.
“You aren’t going anywhere, thief! That bitch is mine!” Tiberius snarled. The young man put his hands up, as if to challenge Steve to a game of fisticuffs, but Steve was in no mood.
Aiden and Annabel spread out and went into fighting stances also.
A flash tore through the sky.
Startled, Steve jumped back. Tiberius was no longer standing and no longer in front of him.
Steve looked to the ground. A wolf was on top of Tiberius’ chest, snapping its jaws at his face. It had come flying through the trees and tackled the young man. Now he struggled with all his strength to keep the jaws of the powerful wolf at bay.
Saliva dripped from her teeth.
“Fuscia!” Steve yelled. He knew this was his chance to escape. He grabbed Annabel’s hand, gestured toward Fuscia, and said, “Looks like that bitch is yours, Lord Amethyst! You’re the one who killed her lover!”
Fuscia either growled or chuckled. Steve dashed past them, leaving Tiberius to fight for his life against those snapping jaws.
Steve would have liked to help Fuscia, but he had no time—Let the woman who lost her lover avenge Charles’ death, like she’s always wanted to.
Steve made it to the carriage and swung the door open. Annabel still gripped his hand. Aiden pushed on Steve’s back, forcing him up the stairs.
“Son!” a voice called from outside the carriage, downstairs.
Steve spun around and saw his father bounding toward him.
He shut his eyes again. When he opened them, he was back in Ethereus—back in Richard’s mind. The intense wedding-turned-battleground faded all around him.
How the hell does this keep happening? Steve wondered. Is my dream-leaping on the fritz?
There was no time to contemplate his Ethereus predicament. Richard was running up the stairs behind him.
“Join me here, son! Rule with me!” his father yelled.
Steve shook his head. “Neither of us belong here, Dad!”
Richard’s face twisted angrily. “Then you leave me no choice!” he screamed, reaching inside his tuxedo pocket.
He came out holding a handgun.
Steve wheezed and pushed Annabel and Aiden behind him, up the stairs.
Richard leveled his arm toward the carriage and squeezed the trigger.
Steve dove sideways as a searing pain shot through his leg.
He looked up from the ground and was facing a shining, glittering reflection of himself.
The Parallel Reflector stood in front of him, the mythical artifact leaning against the back wall of the coach.
Annabel and Aiden helped him to his feet as Richard came leaping up the stairs and into the carriage.
“You’re cornered!” Richard cried out, holding his gun on his son, his hand shaking.
Steve limped backward, toward the mirror, blood dribbling down his leg. He shook off the pain. Annabel held his hand and gulped, backing up with him. Aiden had Steve’s arm gripped tightly, shaking his head.
Steve’s eyes went wide as Richard cocked the hammer back on the gun.
Then Steve did the only thing he could think of.
He blindly dove backwards, pushing himself toward the mirror. He pulled Annabel and Aiden with him as he jumped.
He closed his eyes and prepared for the glass to shatter.
Instead of crashing and breaking the artifact, a strange sensation engulfed his body.
He was floating and spinning,
trying to make his mind work.
Everything was black around him. He couldn’t see if he held onto anyone any longer. Where is Annabel? Where is Aiden?
A moment later, still trapped in oblivion, a strange thought came to him.
Where is Dale?
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
STEVE SEEMED TO BE swimming in blackness, or in time itself. He lost track of his location and the moment and what it meant to embody a physical form. He was moving away from his own existence—from his own body.
Then he thought of Dale and his mind whirled and turned a page, plummeting back into his skull.
He could see a light and he reached toward it—despite being told all his life not to do that.
He was careening out of the non-existence, shooting out of a black hole and falling . . .
Falling out of a mirror.
He landed with a crunch on a laminated, limestone bathroom counter. The handle on the sink jutted into his side. Blood from his leg smeared the countertop. He somersaulted off the counter and crumpled to the ground in a heap, rolling on a bathroom rug. His arms flopped behind him and hit a wall with a thud.
His eyes widened as he noticed something coming from the mirror above him.
He tried to roll to his side to avoid the orange and green ball that crowded his vision.
Aiden cried out and landed weirdly, grunting as he fell directly on Steve. Their arms and legs tangled and mixed together. His freckled head crashed against the wall. They were both entwined in an awkward, immovable position.
They were in a small bathroom.
“W-Where are we?” Aiden asked, looking around at the sink and counter that had been the bane of them both. The nearby shower curtains had little Batman symbols embedded on the side.
“I have no idea,” Steve muttered, struggling to push himself free of Aiden’s wiry, short body. He looked back up to the mirror expectantly.
He waited for Annabel.
And waited.
Then the bathroom door burst open.
A huge form flew into the room, holding a baseball bat over its head.
Steve and Aiden and the newcomer all screamed in unison, everyone frightened and terrified and confused.
