Paranormal Misdirection

by Dima Zales

  The dart guy uses Nero’s indecision to his advantage and spears Nero’s thigh with a dart.

  Nero looks down at the dart, raises an eyebrow, and pulls the thing out as if it were a piece of lint.

  If I had lungs, I’d exhale in relief. It looks like it would take a lot more than that dart to knock Nero out, even in his weakened-from-blood-loss and possibly drunk state.

  “Go on,” a familiar British-accented voice says from behind the small man’s mask. “He killed Bogof and the rest of your kin.”

  The bigger masked people rush for Nero just as I realize whose voice that was.

  Darian.

  The very person who got me into the Cognizant world with his machinations—the man who is convinced the two of us will one day end up together in a happily ever after.

  His trying to kill me makes no sense. Unless this is a weird, preemptive break-up?

  “Remember,” maybe-Darian shouts to the crew closing in on Nero. “The girl is not to be harmed under any circumstances.”

  Okay, so maybe he isn’t trying to kill me. That makes it more likely this is indeed Darian, though it still doesn’t explain why he’s doing this. Although I may have an inkling as to his beef with—

  The front wave of attackers reaches Nero, and I wish I had lungs so I could suck in an excited breath.

  Nero blurs into motion and rips the first to arrive to shreds.

  More victims rush forward, and Nero turns them into more chunks of dead meat.

  Something about what’s happening is familiar, and I’m on the verge of a realization when Nero turns back to deal with the next attacker—and rips the guy’s head clean off.

  When the head rolls past Felix, the clown mask slips, revealing the green face of an orc.

  Of course. That’s what’s so familiar about this. I’ve seen Nero rip orcs to shreds before, and this reminds me of that day. I guess there’s something particularly memorable about seeing orc insides become their outsides.

  Then another thing clicks. Darian said, “He killed Bogof and the rest of your kin.”

  Bogof was the name of one of the orcs in that massacre. I even noted how it was also the abbreviation for “buy one, get one free.”

  That means these orcs are out for revenge, which isn’t surprising given what Itzel said about orcs having family values and being into vendettas.

  In the time it takes me to realize all this, Nero dispatches a good dozen more orcs, but more stream from both his front and his back, replacing their fallen comrades.

  One really fierce-looking orc rushes at Nero and—perhaps accidentally—steps on Felix’s unconscious body.

  My nonexistent heart leaps in horror as I hear the loud crack of bone breaking.

  Nero’s gaze whips to my unconscious body.

  “It’s not me, it’s Felix,” I want to scream at Nero, but I don’t have a mouth.

  Darian uses Nero’s distraction to put a dart in his back.

  The dart doesn’t seem to affect Nero, except perhaps to make him angry. With a very dragon-like roar, he slices the orc who hurt Felix into halves, then rips those halves into smaller chunks before turning his deadly attention to another attacker.

  More clown-masked orcs show up behind Darian—but the new batch coming from behind Nero didn’t even bother with masks. That, or they ran out.

  Seeing the pieces of their brethren makes this set of attackers charge more carefully. They get as close as they can to Nero, but stay out of the range of his claws.

  Nero growls, his gaze snapping between the two groups, clearly deciding whom to kill first.

  Darian shoots Nero with the dart gun again.

  This time, Nero dodges the shot, and the dart hits one of the unmasked orcs. The orc looks at the dart very slowly—then just as slowly looks at Darian with an expression that seems to ask, “Why?”

  Falling to his knees, the orc passes out.

  How strong is the tranquilizer in those darts?

  Finally making a decision, Nero leaps forward and starts slicing the masked orcs into bits.

  When they’re down, Nero glares at Darian, his gaze holding the promise of extreme pain—except more masked orcs show up and stand between him and his prey.

  “Go!” Darian yells, and the extra-careful unmasked orcs shout a war cry and rush forward, forcing Nero to fight on two fronts yet again.

  Nero focuses more attention on the unmasked ones, and I finally realize something: he’s doing his best to stay in the spot where my body is.

  Claws blurring, he slices off the arm of a particularly toothy orc and bashes him on the head with it. He then kicks the head of the knocked-out orc like a soccer ball. With a crack, the head disconnects from the orc’s body and flies at another with devastating force, causing him to stagger—which is when Nero turns him into minced meat.

  Darian shoots his dart again, and misses. Then he shoots once more, and it looks almost as though Nero walked into this dart.

  Or more accurately, Darian shot where Nero would be.

  Ignoring the dart, Nero wipes the blood from his eyes and renews his attack.

  I wish he could shake off all the blood covering him as it makes it hard to tell how badly his shoulder is bleeding.

  Another orc steps on Felix in his rush to get to Nero.

  Felix spits up blood, and his breathing becomes uneven.

  Oh, no. This is really, really bad.

  The offending orc pays for what he did. Nero tears into him with such ferocity the leftover bits fly as far as Darian is standing.

  Darian aims and shoots—again to where Nero ends up jumping.

  He’s clearly using his powers to assist his aim.

  Nero kills the next orc, but another dart pierces his back. A few dead orcs later, yet another dart joins the others.

  It could be my imagination, but it seems like Nero is beginning to slow. His hard-to-track attacks are starting to be more visible as he dispatches two more orcs. Confirming my fears, the next unmasked orc bites a chunk of flesh out of Nero’s forearm before Nero squishes him into pulp.

  The forearm gushes blood as Nero fights on, with more of Darian’s darts hitting him. By now, even the orcs are noticing his slowing, and they get bolder in their attacks.

  Darian reloads his gun while Nero kills five orcs.

  He hits Nero with another dart when a particularly large orc walks out from the corridor leading to the hub.

  This newcomer seems to dwarf the others—an impressive feat given the average orc’s size.

  “I’m the chieftain of the clan,” the newcomer snarls, sticking out his chest like an elephant seal defending his harem. “Bogof was my brother.”

  Nero moves forward with a speed that’s glacial for him, but impressive for even an elite martial artist. Without giving the chieftain a chance to take a fighting stance, he strikes his enemy in the chest.

  The chieftain dodges the strike with surprising agility.

  Perhaps he’s the chieftain due to his fighting ability?

  As he dodges, his giant fist flies at Nero’s injured shoulder. Nero sidesteps—right into another dart from Darian’s gun.

  The rest of the orcs rush to help their chieftain, crushing my hope of there being a one-on-one fight.

  Nero swipes at the chieftain again. Is he moving even slower now? The chieftain grabs Nero by the wrist. Nero swats with the other hand—and gets it captured as well.

  Darian shoots another dart into Nero’s back. Then another.

  The horde of orcs closes the distance and starts pummeling Nero with punches and kicks.

  Why doesn’t he turn into his dragon form? That’s the only way I can see out of this situation, but he’s not doing it.

  Is he not allowed to turn on Earth? Because if there was ever a time to break the rules, it’s now. Unless it’s the Mandate that disallows it. Since Nero is on the Council, the Mandate is less restrictive for him, but maybe turning isn’t on the list of perks? Alternatively, maybe he doesn’t turn beca
use the corridor doesn’t have enough space to hold all that mass? Yes. This sounds closer to the truth. I bet if he turned, the whole underground structure would collapse on top of him and the orcs… but also on top of Felix and my unconscious body.

  Four orcs grab Nero’s right leg, and five more grab his left one. Three other orcs help their chieftain by latching on to Nero’s right arm—which is when the chieftain lets go and smashes his fist into Nero’s jaw.

  Darian shoots a few more darts—some hit the orcs that are not holding Nero, but one pierces Nero in the neck.

  The chieftain and the orcs not holding Nero keep punching him—and their hits, or the tranquilizer, make Nero sway on his feet.

  Oh crap. This does not look good. Maybe Nero’s just pretending to weaken so that they let him go?

  That’s what I’d do, at least.

  A minute of abuse later, I strongly doubt Nero is faking. His body slackens in the grip of the orcs—but they keep pounding him.

  Leisurely peppering Nero with more darts, Darian approaches the orc pileup, and when he’s a few feet away from the melee, he takes off his mask.

  If I still had any doubts about his identity, they’re gone now. This is definitely Darian—only for the first time I see a cruel expression on his face, one that looks quite at home there.

  The orcs deliver another round of hits and kicks, but Nero fights unconsciousness to glare at Darian with pure murder in his eyes.

  “You threatened a fellow Council member—and a seer at that,” Darian says, pulling out a dagger from a sheath strapped to his back. “Did you think there would be no consequences?”

  It’s just as I suspected. Nero humiliated Darian by holding him by his neck like a kitten and forbidding him to talk to me on the pain of death. The seer clearly feigned his submission long enough to find allies in these orcs and strike when Nero would be at his weakest.

  Nero grinds his teeth almost audibly, then sneaks a glance at my unconscious body with an unreadable expression on his face.

  “Yes, she is why you can’t risk turning,” Darian says, noticing Nero’s gaze. “And you’re right to be afraid. In the futures where you dare it, she dies during the collapse.”

  If looks could be weaponized, Nero would kill Darian with his next glare.

  “Hey now.” Darian clicks his tongue in mock sympathy. “If you care about her as much as I do, I have a silver lining for you.” Approaching Nero, he stops less than a foot away. “She dies in every future where she chooses you.”

  For the first time, I see pain on Nero’s bloodied face—as if Darian’s words accomplished what the orcs’ fists couldn’t.

  I’ve never wished for a body as much as I do now. If I had one, I’d yell, cry, and, more importantly, use it to tear Darian into pieces for this.

  “Ah, yes.” Darian smirks. “You know what I just told you is the truth, and the truth hurts.” His hand tightens on the dagger’s hilt as he adds, “But not as much as this will.”

  With a wide arc, he stabs the dagger into Nero’s throat.

  I watch it go in but refuse to accept that this is actually happening.

  Nero’s roar is choked by the blood spurting out of his throat as he futilely tries to free himself from the orcs. But they hold on for dear life, and the free ones go into a blood frenzy as they frantically pound Nero, over and over—until he finally drops to the ground.

  “We have to be sure,” Darian mutters to the chieftain and points at the dagger in Nero’s throat.

  The chieftain grabs the hilt, rips out the weapon, then uses it to completely detach Nero’s head—

  Chapter Sixty-Two

  I’m back to reality, my heart jackhammering in my chest.

  I feel sick, my body trembling all over.

  “It was a vision,” I remind myself, fighting the urge to vomit.

  I can still prevent it.

  I have to prevent it.

  A modicum calmer, I leap back into Headspace.

  The shapes that surround me are identical to the ones from before—each no doubt ready to give me a vision just as awful.

  For a few seconds, I allow myself the luxury of just floating there and letting my mind cope with the emotional overload.

  Darian is behind everything.

  Felix is about to get badly hurt.

  Nero is about to be gruesomely killed—again.

  And there’s something else that bothers me—something I didn’t get a chance to process in the vision.

  “She dies in every future where she chooses you,” Darian had said.

  He’s said this before. The last time was at the funeral. Chester had been there, and he’d cast some doubt on Darian’s motivations, which made me more or less ignore his words. This time, however, Nero, with his truth-telling abilities, believed the seer—which means that this statement is somehow fact.

  But what does that actually mean?

  If it’s the opposite of the future where Darian and I are a unit, I’m toast—because that’s not happening, especially after this incident.

  I’m in just as much trouble if by “choose Nero,” he means I develop feelings for my boss. No matter how much I want to deny it, that’s already the case—and my reaction to Nero’s possible demise just makes me more certain about it.

  I float there, letting that sink in.

  I, Sasha, have feelings for my dangerous, manipulative boss and Mentor.

  Who’s a dragon.

  Yeah, okay, I’m going to file that away and deal with it later—if there is a later.

  Back to the whole “Sasha dies” business. The best-case scenario here is that Darian was talking about a future where I become Mrs. Nero Gorin, then perish as a result. Maybe in childbirth if I literally attempt to be the “Mother of Dragons” as Ariel was joking about?

  Well, that fate is one that can be averted. I’d just have to stay away from Nero—an idea that fills me with dread but is, theoretically, doable.

  Something else occurs to me. Is this why Rasputin seemed to be against the idea of me and Nero? Has he also seen the future Darian is talking about? Is that why he wants Nero to go away and reunite with whoever Claudia is?

  Realizing I’m dwelling on this to stop myself from dealing with the much scarier reality of Nero’s imminent demise, I force myself to focus on what needs to be done.

  What if I were to break the big problem of having everyone survive into smaller, more manageable chunks?

  Yes, that’s it.

  First, I need to figure out how to dodge the dart that knocks me out. If I’m not knocked out, I can surely save the day.

  Somehow.

  Examining the visions in front of me, I wonder if any of them contain a version where I dodge the dart, and if so, how to pick it out from the others.

  Could using intuition—the way my father does—help?

  Of course, I could just see all these visions at once, as a cloud, but that would eat up a ton of my seer juice, and I need to save as much as I can for what happens after I dodge the first dart.

  Intuition it is. At least as plan A.

  Another decision I need to make is the vision duration. These default visions will show me the whole fight—but I could just see the very beginning instead. The shorter vision would let me save some seer power and spare myself the pain of seeing Nero die at the end.

  But no. What if, thanks to some butterfly effect, my attempt at a dodge helps turn the fight later—and lets Nero survive? I don’t want to miss that.

  So, I’m going with plan A and default vision duration.

  Must dodge the dart, I convince myself, in case that helps my intuition. He shoots me in the right shoulder, so I have to make sure he misses.

  Metaphorically chanting the phrase over and over, I reach out with my ethereal wisp and touch a shape that seems nearly identical to the others.

  We’re halfway through the corridor.

  Darian shows up wearing a killer clown mask, followed by the orcs.

  Know
ing the dart is about to hit my right shoulder, I duck a moment before Darian shoots.

  The dart whooshes by my shoulder and into the orcs behind us.

  Darian lowers his gun—as if in confusion.

  “Yes,” I mutter. “I did it. This is—”

  Darian raises the gun and shoots again.

  I dodge to the left—and that action is what puts my thigh in the path of the second dart.

  Because my leg muscles are tense, the pain from the needle is sharper, and my legs buckle even faster this time.

  I start falling—but blissfully pass out before my body hits the ground.

  I’m bodiless again—and I watch as Nero catches my body like before.

  We get flanked.

  Felix mutters, “What’s happening?” and gets knocked out with the dart gun.

  Everything else proceeds like in my earlier vision, with one exception—when he takes off his mask, Darian looks at my unconscious body and says, “I’m sorry, Sasha. I thought you’d be knocked out and wouldn’t witness any of this unpleasant necessity.” He looks at all the gore. “Alas, it looks like I underestimated your seer capabilities.”

  So, a butterfly effect did occur, but not what I wanted. Instead, Darian is now aware of my seer efforts, and might counter them.

  No positive changes happen for the rest of the vision. Darian still stabs Nero in the throat; then the chieftain finishes the grizzly business with the decapitation.

  Chapter Sixty-Three

  I’m back in the real world for an eye blink, then get right back to Headspace despite my hammering heartbeat.

  The shapes around me are all the same as before—but I feel even worse than the first time.

  I dodged the first dart, but it was all for nothing. Darian realized that I used a vision to dodge; then he used a counter vision and shot me again.

  Could I counter his counter? My head hurts even thinking about it, but I use my intuition and locate a shape that I hope is the one I need.

  Darian shows up.

  Since I know his first shot is at my right shoulder, I duck, but when he shoots, he aims lower than I expected, and hits my shoulder as in vision one.