Realms of Light (The Colliding Line Book 2)

by Rhoads, Sandra Fernandez

  The creatures hold still for a moment. Then, as if a rushing wind, they explode in a frenzy, attacking the vile monster as he fends off his own creatures, leaving my mother’s body alone. The tiny wisps of her Current dissipate into the ground, vanishing forever.

  I sink to my knees and gingerly take her hand. All warmth is gone. So is her lavender scent. I collapse beside her, my voice a whisper through the pouring rain. “I’m so sorry. I did the only thing I knew how. Mama, I love you . . .”

  Lightning flashes through the charcoal sky as the world moves in slow motion. Sage is swarmed with his beasts as they push him to the base of the hill, but he is regaining control. Thunder cracks as the scarring flames are doused by blinding sheets of rain. The weary Awakened army staggers through the valley. Some stunned, others wearing horrified expressions.

  Stormy heat rises from my toes, runs through my veins, courses under my skin as I feel new strength within me rise. Powers collide, shadow and light, as both halves of me awake. I activated my dissenting inheritance by commanding the beasts. I made a Guardian choice to protect, knowing the cost, and did the very thing I feared—what everyone feared.

  I believe with all my heart this is what the visions showed. This is the path I was supposed to take. But what happens now?

  Sage lifts his hands to the night sky and wields Milton like a wand as he approaches the Well.

  “Awake / My fairest, my espoused, my latest found . . . / My ever-new delight, / Awake; the morning shines and the fresh field / Calls us.”

  Fitting that he’d use Adam’s line to Eve after her disturbing nightmare. Except this time, he’s not talking to me.

  On cue, the once-protective Inner Wall crumbles like wilting fabric. Any plans of splintering Sage evaporate into a silky puddle. The marshy reeds suddenly dissolve into plumes of silver smoke. Through the haze, something glistens. An image looms behind the dancing fog the same way as in my visions.

  Thick liquid bubbles up from the dirt, rolling out from under the silver mist, filling the space between the two trees with molten glass—Underneath a bright sea flowed / Of jasper or of liquid pearl.

  Milton’s description is close. It’s not a sea but a small lake. A pond. And the water isn’t pearl, it’s painted like a reflection of a breathtaking sunset, the sky upside down—The portal shone, inimitable on earth / By model or by shading pencil drawn.

  Yes, capturing the full image of the portal would seem impossible.

  In that moment, a clean silver light shines like a sunrise waking over a mountainside. The fog dissipates. And there, a defenseless shrub shyly glistens over a placid lake for all to see, the light casting on wondrous faces.

  Sage brightens—of that stupendous bridge his joy increased. / Long admiring he stood. Admiring with prowling eyes and devouring the sight of an unruly shrub with a curved trunk.

  The tiny sapling is plain and ordinary—except the leaves are liquid silver, and the tendrils pulse as if it had a heartbeat. The vines curl with the same pattern etched on the Paradise Steel. The vein-like roots dip in the water, stretching underneath the liquid sky.

  This weak shrub, the same one from my vision, with its gangly vines and silver leaves, is what protects the Well?

  Sage smiles with gnarled teeth as the tiny alabaster beast flits to his shoulder. “Now, Ayala, there is but one realm, one continent / Of easy thoroughfare.”

  I’d like to slash Milton’s words off his tongue, but instead I look around the battlefield that is smothered with the stench and smoke of war. The Awakened army is gazing at the glowing shrub, weapons hanging at their sides, battle halted as bright light illuminates the valley.

  Steady rain is smothering most of the flames in the charred field. Silver Assassin staggers near the maze entrance. Not far from him, Tanji wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, stabbing one more Legion for good measure. Claire is slumped to her knees.

  Further behind me, Gray is down, wounded, struggling to stand with a small knife in his fist. His Steel suddenly feels heavy in my hand. Across the lake, I can see Maddox under the barren branches of the willow tree. My heart leaps. He’s alive, facing the glowing sight. Devon, battered and bruised, comes to help him rise, but Maddox musters the strength to stand on his own.

  For the moment, the battle has ceased. No one dares move, not even the creatures, as everyone watches, waiting. Wondering what’s next.

  The shrub rustles as if blown by a spring breeze, but the freezing air is completely still. The silver leaves cluster together, forming a mosaic of mirrored pieces. Suddenly, the clean light brightens ten times its strength. The rivers of golden Current spilling from the Well gush faster, stronger. Each strand is fueled with mainline power, brighter than before, lighting the field in the waking hues of sunrise.

  The surge feeds the Awakened army with new life almost immediately. Strength renews as they notice the light streaking through the grass and around their feet for the first time. Some begin to pull the injured to safety as others collect weapons and shields.

  But Sage ignores their rush of power, fixated on only one thing: the glowing shrub. He moves closer to the Well with belched fire and rolling smoke. A crooked smile is plastered on his beastly face. I push to my feet as he reaches down and picks up a cord of the honey-colored light, twisting threads between three talons.

  He brings the cord to his nose and inhales deep. “Lonicera.” I shudder at the way he ingests my name. His voice is no longer tinged with a French accent, like my father’s, but raspy like a tongue scarred by lava. “Lured to your own scent?” Sage turns to me, dangling the cord between his gnarled fingers, his skin slithering and hissing with smoke. “No matter where you hid, this scent is how I found you.”

  The scent from the arbor is mine?

  My quickened breath streams into the frosty air. My head spins as the reality of what I’ve done sinks in. Red sparks hiss from Sage’s fingers. With delight he snuffed the smell / Of mortal change on earth.

  Sage pricks the honey-colored thread with a small flick of his red current, injecting it like a needle to a vein. “In the day / Ye eat thereof your eyes . . . / Shall perfectly be then / Opened and cleared, and ye shall be as gods.”

  A smug, satisfied look spreads across his gruesome face as the red current alters the stream of light from a soft glow to venom green, then slick black. The strand, once glowing bright, turns to adders slithering through the grass, seeking the heels of the Awakened.

  The poisoned thread travels to the girl with the pretzel braid. As the venom reaches her feet, she drops her shield and collapses with a blood-piercing cry. The girl flails in agony. Legions swirl overhead. Crackling thunder drowns out their screeches. And my scream.

  I slosh through the glassy water, leaping over silver vines and roots, trying to reach her, but her body has already turned to wispy black mist. Legions descend on me, knocking me away from Sage, who is beside her. I duck, roll, and cut the freezing air with Gray’s Steel to get away.

  Sage inhales the girl’s Current and puffs out his chest. Two vellum wings expand from his hunched back. I’m sickened. My frozen fingers clutch the Steel tighter. The more power Sage consumes, the stronger he’ll grow.

  What have I done?

  Sage releases the obsidian cord. As soon as it falls to the ground, the caramel light returns, searching for a new path in the grass. His greedy eyes zero in on the tiny shrub—hope elevates, and joy / Brightens his crest. The black misty cloud under his feet swells as he floats above the water, circling the glowing tree, assessing his prey.

  The fiery surge of battle resumes. From the hill, Albrecht raises her sword with a battle cry. The Awakened do too. With powerful strength fed by the Well, they attack Sage—the field pavilioned with his guardians bright, rushing him all at once.

  But Cormorants knock the Awakened army off their feet, clearing a twenty-foot perimeter around the glimmering pond. Sage has unobstructed access to the tree.

  The growing smell of sulfur and ash sw
irls around me. I’m swallowed in the fight of oncoming Legions and pushed away from the Well. Gray’s Steel is powerful, but not enough to overtake the two. Then three. And four Legions that surround me. I’m hit, slammed into the mud.

  Red sparks fall with the rain as the Legions explode. “This isn’t over,” Devon’s voice says.

  Foster is helping me to my feet. He looks into my eyes. “The answer will become clear.”

  It’s not clear yet. But somehow, seeing them rally around me after what I’ve just done renews my confidence.

  I join them in the battle against Sage. But as soon as I reach the lake, something sideswipes me—Sage’s tail, a Cormorant, or a Legion, who knows. Whatever it is, it knocks me into the air and sends me sailing toward the shrub. The Steel pulls from my hand as if magnetized by the tree.

  I hold it tight as I splash into the lake. The knife sparks with explosive white light as I accidentally clip two drumstick-sized branches from the vine. The blast temporarily blinds me. The Steel burns my palms something fierce. I can’t hold the sizzling weapon any longer. It plops into the painted water. No. No. No. I search for it wildly.

  Through the scraggly vines, I see Sage stagger—his head / Crested aloft and carbuncle his eyes. His focus is on one thing.

  “Happy realms of light / Clothed with transcendent brightness.” His delighted laughter echoes as he dips his hands into the tepid water. His charred skin glows with soft golden liquid.

  I’m plunging my hands beneath the surface, diving under, feeling blindly through the gentle water, searching for the Steel. I come up for air and blink in disbelief. The weapon is floating strangely, not far from me.

  I pluck the resisting weapon out of the water as the battle sounds increase. Albrecht is trying to reach Sage. Tanji is rushing through the smoke with a searing war cry. Maddox battles Belial while Kellan fights Legions. But it’s no use. Sage is unharmed, hovering over the captured tree.

  The monster lets out an agonizing cry as he slides his sizzling hands over the trunk of the silver tree, turning the bark a deep, endless black. The caramel water surrounding the charcoal trunk slowly transforms from warm honey to the venom green, into a bituminous lake, then obsidian black, darker than Sage’s eyes.

  The Awakened army manages to reach him. Albrecht launches at Sage, attacking him from behind, gashing his wing. He roars, blasting his red current reactively into the hazy sky.

  I scramble back, finding solid ground before the infected stream reaches my skin because Sage’s touch clearly perverts best things / To worst abuse or to their meanest use. Instead of bright, hopeful light flowing from the Well, haunting darkness seeps through the Garden, chasing down the creamy threads. The air is filled with a sickening stench of rotting death that will soon snuff out the sweet fragrance of the arbor forever.

  I did everything I thought the visions showed. I know I did.

  Yet now the world burns.

  Sage has won.

  I kneel under the oak tree, drenched and muddy. My hands are raw from holding Gray’s Steel. My body aches. Cuts, bruises, and burns hide under my battered outfit.

  Legions and Cormorants celebrate in swarming circles through the rain. Muffled thunder rumbles as the Awakened army staggers through the smoldering field. Small fires and what remains of the dim strands of the Current provide the only light in the swallowing darkness. Agonizing cries fill the valley as the venom reaches another victim. And then another. All while Sage hovers over the lake as if it’s his throne. Untouchable.

  But I know this fight isn’t over, even though everything around looks as if it were.

  Sage will not win.

  I was assured that man shall live.

  Sage can celebrate and believe he’s won—for now. Because I know the bridge had to form so it could break and create a new path. New hope to spring / Out of despair. A despair painted on everyone’s faces.

  Then the bridge will break and a fierce blast will explode with white sparks where the world shall burn and from her ashes spring / New Heaven and earth.

  Despite everything, I’m positive the vision is showing that a new Empyrean Well will rise and dwell in a separate realm once again. And the blinding light is the answer.

  As Gray’s knife hums in my palm, a thought hums in my mind. Gray’s Steel. It’s part of the gate. When I accidentally clipped the tree, white sparks burst forth, like the Circuit Wall. His weapon did nothing to destroy Sage because it was never meant to wound him directly.

  It was meant to protect the Awakened. To do the very thing the Alliance feared.

  Destroy the Well.

  Something only I can do.

  I don’t know what will happen to everyone’s power when it happens, but I know this is what the vision showed. And right now, we’ve got nothing left to lose. As I find the energy to stand, Pop’s words float back with an affirming melody. No, it’s a drumming fight song.

  Casting off what winter hides

  New life on the other side

  From the ashes

  Spring will rise

  It’s time for spring to rise. Even though the pitch-black Garden is steeped in winter, a blast from the Well will bring back what Sage’s defiling power hides. But if the explosion will be as strong as it seemed in my vision, anyone unprotected by a shield will die. I might save the Empyrean Well from Sage’s control, but anyone left fighting will be destroyed in the process. Including Maddox—if his Current hasn’t already been consumed.

  I look at the lake’s edge. The Alliance symbol is fading. I don’t have much time.

  Bloodcurdling cries come faster now. I wince, feeling the agonizing wails in every part of my being. With every death, Sage grows stronger. Bigger.

  Forget finding Maddox. I have to strike now. I have to trust that what I’ll do will save the remaining Awakened around the world, because it’s only a matter of time before Sage’s power infects them all.

  As I step into the oil-slick lake, Sage throws his red current two feet in front of me. I stand frozen. He doesn’t need me alive any longer. I’ve given him what he wants. I slip Gray’s knife out of his sight. The hilt throbs, tugging toward the tree.

  “I promised no one shall live.” Sage glides around the tiny tree to face me. “But since you granted me my heart’s desire. . .” He nods at the tiny white Cormorant perched on a branch of the black shrub, the middle tree. The remaining Cormorants, including Moloch, swirl through the rain as if performing a ceremonial dance. One by one, they swoop down, diving into the obsidian waters. “Side with me, and I will spare your life and grant you all that you desire.”

  The Steel pulls harder. The cries of dying Awakened burrow into my core. But the answer is an easy one.

  “Never.” Not Ever.

  “Very well.” Sage sends his red current somewhere beyond the willow tree, lighting up the night. In the flash, I see Maddox. Alive. My heart nearly bursts. He’s on the ground, ragged and weary, holding a shield as he stabs a Legion. Without warning, Sage flings the scarlet bolt from his fingers directly at Maddox the same way he did with my mother.

  I scream, plowing through the water, straining to intercept the hit. I shout a command for Moloch to push Maddox back, for any beast to intervene, for someone—anyone—to save him. But nothing can hear me over Sage’s roaring laughter.

  I’m too far away. The red current cracks through the air, hitting the darkness where Maddox lies. Then somehow, the stream refracts into the night sky. Moloch screeches and tries to dodge the ray. She’s not fast enough. Her tail disintegrates on impact. The rest of her spirals from the sky and smashes to the ground, exploding in livid flames not twenty feet from me—exactly how Martin painted it.

  I hit the ground and cover my head with my hands. Maddox might have redirected the hit, but he may not be alive.

  I push off of the soggy ground. Half of Moloch burns like a bonfire—an inextinguishable fire—heating the air. The remaining Cormorants scatter with fear. Sage calls them back. Maddox lies on th
e ground. His shield is busted from where it caught Sage’s current. He’s alive, but his light grows dimmer. And not more than thirty feet away, Sage’s venom is hunting him down, devouring the faint thread leading right to him.

  Maddox lifts his head. Despite the distance, our eyes lock. I raise Gray’s knife in my hand and then look directly at the scraggly black shrub that once shared my scent. Please know what I’m about to do, Maddox. Protect the others and call out the code word: rise.

  He nods with resigned sorrow and mouths something: “I trust you.”

  I slosh through the water and wade to my knees. Sage has his back to me, consoling Ayala, resuming whatever twisted ceremony the beasts are performing to restore her.

  The blackened water stings my legs, but I continue on. I listen to the sounds around me, the way Cole taught me, hiding in the pouring rain. Sage doesn’t hear me coming, and he’s close enough to get the full measure of the blast.

  Cutting the vines won’t cause enough of a spark. I’ll need to stab it the way Cole showed me. I crouch, dipping my whole body in the water. The pain is more excruciating, but I move closer. I’m less than five feet away. I need to get close enough so I can shank the knife deep into the bark, cutting through the outer layer, and strike deep, where hopefully the silver tree still lives.

  Then I hear Devon cry out in agony. The venom must have reached him. Forget stealth. I lunge for the shrub, but my splashes are way too loud. Sage turns and somehow his tail manages to find me before my hand can make solid contact with the bark. A spark kicks off the Steel. I’ve only clipped the tip of a charred vine. The obsidian stick falls into the water, revealing a tiny silver core.

  Sage’s tail wraps around my chest, dunking and then holding me under the water. My arms are bound to my side, and I’m so far below the surface, I’m surrounded by stinging darkness. But deeper down, there is light. He hasn’t destroyed the Well completely. The silver vines look as if they’re deeply rooted into the portal.