Face Of The Void (Desa Kincaid Book 3)

by R S Penney

  The gray woman floated into the middle of the plaza, hovering about thirty feet off the ground. She spread her arms wide, threw her head back and cackled.

  “Why are you dragging this out?” Desa shouted. “Why not just turn me to stone? Or snap my neck with a wave of your hand?”

  “Now there’s an idea!”

  Once again, the woman snapped her fingers.

  Desa felt something that she could only describe as a tugging sensation. It was as if her molecules were trying to rearrange themselves into a new configuration. It lasted for only a moment and then faded; so far as she could tell, nothing had happened.

  The woman screeched, snapping her fingers again.

  Desa felt the tugging sensation, but once again, it faded without having any effect on her. Enraged, the other woman thrust her hand out with fingers curled as if she meant to choke the life out of Desa.

  Desa felt those fingers as a gentle pressure on her neck, barely noticeable. Was this the best that Hanak Tuvar could do? She was beginning to wonder why she had ever feared this creature.

  Grinning triumphantly, Desa shook her head. “You can’t do it, can you?” she said. “You couldn’t transform Marcus either. I remember that day when you first took control of Adele’s body. You tried to turn him into a frog.”

  The gray woman screamed, thrashing about in her impotent fury. Cobblestones ripped themselves out of the ground, surging up to surround her. A hundred tiny meteors, ready to fly at her command.

  “But why can’t you use your power on me?” Desa mused. “You healed Azra, which means you can manipulate living tissue. So, what makes me different? Why don’t you just squish me like a bug?”

  The woman howled.

  “The Ether!” Desa exclaimed. “That’s it, isn’t it? You can’t use your powers on those who have communed with the Ether! Not without permission! They have to invite you like Bendarian and Adele!”

  With a soul-piercing bellow, the woman tossed her head back and sent every one of those floating cobblestones hurtling toward Desa. Desa moved by instinct, raising her left hand and triggering the Force-Sink in her bracelet.

  A dozen rocks jerked to a halt right in front of her. Others flew past on either side, some striking the roof. She let those she had captured fall to the ground with a dreadful cacophony.

  The dead woman climbed higher into the air, a fireball igniting above her upturned palm. “I don’t need the full extent of my powers to kill you!” she yelled. “Die in agony, Desa Kincaid!”

  She hurled the fireball.

  Desa turned, running along the rooftop, hopping over chunks of debris. The fireball struck the shingles behind her, blasting a hole in the building. And just when the roar died down, another one came her way.

  Desa leaped, easily crossing over the narrow gap between this block of buildings and the next one over. She landed with a jolt of pain that raced up her leg but forced herself to keep running. Have to end this.

  Twisting on the spot, Desa thrust her fist toward the floating woman. She unleashed a torrent of lightning from her ring, a silver lance that pounded her opponent. The woman raised her hands, gathering the electricity between her palms.

  Just like in Ithanar.

  Lifting the ball of flickering lightning above her head, the woman cackled. “You never do learn, do you?”

  Desa let her arm drop and then thrust out her other hand, fingers splayed. Kinetic energy surged across the square, slamming into the gray woman and sending her into a tumble. She lost control of the electricity.

  The crackling ball went speeding into the clouds.

  Tumbling head over heels, the dead woman screamed as she tried to regain her balance. She managed to right herself at last, hovering over the square with teeth bared. “That was uncalled-”

  Desa already had her left-hand pistol drawn, her arm extended to point the gun at her enemy. CRACK! A bullet erupted from her weapon, Heat-Sink activating, leaving a trail of crystalized frost in its wake.

  It tore through the gray woman’s chest, her body flash-freezing in an instant. For the briefest fraction of a second, she just hung there, covered in ice from head to toe. Then she dropped to the ground and shattered on impact.

  “Actually,” Desa said. “I’ve always considered myself to be rather observant.”

  Any thought she had of celebrating vanished when she glanced eastward. Another swarm of gray bodies flooded into the city. Dozens of them on each of the parallel streets. Her heart sank as despair crept over her. There was no way she could fight so many.

  23

  Tommy threw his will against Hanak Tuvar. Backed by his two companions, he should have made some headway, but the beast only laughed at him. He tried and tried to sever its connection to the horde of dead soldiers that surged into the city, but it was no use. Three people just weren’t enough. Even with Desa, they would have had a hard time defeating this creature. It might have been impossible.

  He sensed her in the plaza outside the bookkeeper’s office, a tiny figure made of trillions of particles who leaped from a rooftop. He felt Desa’s Gravity-Sink draining energy into the Ether, cushioning her fall so that she landed gently on the cobblestones.

  And he felt the swarm of enemies coming to kill her.

  So many.

  Did they know that Tommy was here in this little apartment, that he and Nari and Kalia were waging a futile war against their master? No, he suspected they didn’t know much of anything. But they would storm this building if Hanak Tuvar directed them to do so. And then it would be over.

  Nari was beside him, her molecules dancing about. He could sense the shape of her, the way she slumped with fatigue. Kalia wasn’t much better. The woman was as rigid as a statue. They were failing.

  Desa was out there alone. Miri and the watchmen were nearly overwhelmed. He had sensed Dalen’s pain when a bullet pierced his love. Damn Victor! If they survived this, Tommy would have words with that man.

  He had sensed the surge in the Ether when Jim used a crystal to save Dalen. Bless that man! Dalen would start fretting about his moment of passionate indiscretion, kissing Jim. Tommy knew his love all too well. He would have to reassure Dalen once again that he was not the jealous type. Assuming they got through this.

  That was looking less and less likely.

  He felt Desa’s determination, her grim resolve to face down a hundred enemies and die in the attempt. It broke his heart. And Kalia…She was wilting under the weight of her despair. There had to be something they could do! He tried to come up with a new plan! Anything was better than hurling futile attack after futile attack at Hanak Tuvar.

  But wait.

  What was that?

  Tommy stretched his mind eastward, over the demon and its distortion field, searching for whatever had distracted him. No…It couldn’t be.

  Standing alone in the square, Desa lifted bloodstained daggers. Her lips parted as she drew in a breath. Her face was flushed, eyes wild. So, this was how she died. Well, at least she had fought to the bitter end. Whoever was waiting for her on the other side had to take that into account.

  Didn’t they?

  Several dozen grays scrambled up the East Road, rushing toward her like a flood, ready to sweep her away. She could see the hatred in their black eyes, the unrestrained fury. It was sickening. And yet, this would be the fate of the entire world. Who would stop the demon after she fell here?

  They just kept coming. She was ready. Maybe she would take down three or four before they overwhelmed her. One last act of defiance.

  The Ether stirred.

  Desa lifted her eyes to the eastern sky and saw…something. Dots against the breaking clouds. She couldn’t make out whatever it was, but she heard Hanak Tuvar’s enraged screeching even at this distance, and she knew what she felt. Gravity-Sinks. There must have been a hundred of them.

  Men and women in hooded cloaks came soaring over the city, each carrying an odd, crescent-shaped pistol. Desa recognized those weapons. The
Al a Nari! The Al a Nari had come to save Ofalla!

  The hooded figures pointed their weapons down into the street, firing jagged bolts of electricity, blasting the gray men who tried to charge the square. Smoldering corpses fell to the ground, smoke rising from their scorched clothing.

  One of the newcomers wore the yellow robes of an Elite Guardian. Twirling a metal staff over her head, she landed gently in the road and then turned her back on Desa. She slammed the end of her weapon down, releasing a blast of kinetic energy that sent her enemies flying.

  Raising a hand to shield her face, Desa stumbled backward as the wave hit her. She let her arm drop and blinked.

  Andriel stood before her with her staff in hand, wavy, red hair fluttering in the wind. She cast a glance back over her shoulder and winked at Desa. “You just going to stand there?”

  Grays charged her.

  Andriel swung the end of her staff into one man’s stomach and then – with a quick pivot – she smashed the other end into a gray woman’s head. Both enemies fell, and more took their place.

  Twirling the staff like a windmill blade. Andriel backed away. She slammed it down once again, another surge of kinetic energy throwing the horde backward. The front ranks landed in the road, and those behind rushed over them.

  With deft fingers, Desa reloaded her right-hand pistol with ordinary ammunition. “Get down!” she shouted to Andriel.

  The other woman listened, ducking.

  Desa lifted her gun with both hands, choosing her targets with care. She fired all six rounds, striking down grays who tried to surround Andriel. Blood flew, and bodies dropped.

  With a powerful jump, Andriel launched herself into the air, her Gravity-Sink letting her soar up to the rooftops. She hovered over the oncoming mob, then tossed a handful of coins down on them.

  Gray men froze when she triggered her Heat-Sinks, falling and shattering on the ground. Further down the road, other Al a Nari were perched on rooftops, blasting the army of the dead from above.

  Rojan landed in the plaza, dusting himself off and striding toward Desa with a winning smile. “How did I know I would find you here?”

  “What are you doing here?” she demanded.

  He answered that with a shrug, directing a furtive glance toward the battle. “We came north to end the war,” he explained. “We thought that perhaps taking your capital would convince your politicians to end this pointless aggression. What a shock it was when we arrived and discovered that New Beloran had fallen.”

  “It’s-”

  “Hanak Tuvar,” he said. “Yes, we saw the beast. I take it you are responsible for its injuries.”

  “I had help,” she growled. “How many of you are there? Can we make a stand here?”

  Rojan stepped up to stand beside her, lifting his crescent-pistol in both hands. He faced his enemy with cold focus, ready for anything. “There are over a hundred of us,” he said. “But I fear it will be a desperate fight.”

  Desa let her head hang, sweat drenching her dark hair. “Mercy has a plan,” she said. “To stop them all at once.”

  “Mercy?”

  “I found her,” Desa said, drawing her knives again, readying herself for the next wave of enemies. She’s here.”

  “Then we may have a chance.”

  A dozen grays came charging into the square. The one in front, a dark-skinned fellow with his hair in a short tail and his shirt unbuttoned, came right for her, ready to rip her throat out when he got his hands on her. “Can you handle him?” Desa asked.

  “I can.”

  Pulsing her Gravity-Sink, Desa jumped and flipped over the man’s head. She landed behind him, ready for her next opponent. A pale, bare-chested man came for her, swiping at her face like a cat trying to swat her.

  Desa brought one knife up to slash the underside of his wrist, causing his arm to recoil. She kicked him in the stomach, sending the big oaf lurching backward into the trio of grays behind him.

  Motion on her left.

  Rounding on this new adversary, Desa tossed her left-hand dagger up and thrust her hand out. A wave of kinetic energy sent a plump woman flying backward until she hit the front wall of a cobbler’s shop.

  Desa caught the knife as it fell, then spun and immediately slashed the throat of a man with a goatee. Black blood fountained from the wound as he landed face-down on the pavement.

  An old, leather-skinned woman attacked, brandishing a rolling pin of all things. With a furious growl, she lunged for Desa.

  Desa extended her left hand, pulsing the Gravity-Source in her dagger, pulling her enemy close. The old woman stumbled, nearly losing her balance. Good enough. Desa rammed both knives into the crone’s chest.

  The body collapsed as she pulled her blades free.

  She turned to her right, where she found herself confronted by the bare-chested man once again. He curled his fingers into a meaty fist and tried to bring it down on Desa’s head.

  Leaning to her left, Desa barely evaded the hit. She sliced his belly with the right-hand dagger, pulsing the Electric-Source and sending blue sparks flashing over his flesh. He dropped, and she searched for her next target.

  She was surprised to find that there weren’t any. Every enemy within a hundred feet of her had been put down. Some had fallen to blasts of electricity from Rojan’s gun. Exhausted, Desa took a moment to catch her breath.

  Further down the street, the Al a Nari were engaging the dead army, holding back the tide. Andriel stood in the road, twirling her staff and facing down three of the beasts. She dispatched them easily, and Desa felt a swell of pride. Whatever problems her homeland may possess, nothing rivaled Aladri training.

  She turned, rushing back into the square, gasping and bending double in front of Rojan. Forcing herself to stand up straight, she met his eyes. “Mercy needs more Field Binders,” she said. “You and I should join her.”

  Rojan’s eyebrows climbed up. “I don’t know what we can do there that we can’t do here,” he muttered. “But all right.”

  Desa led him to the bookkeeper’s shop where Kalia and the others conducted their attack. She tried the door, but it was blocked. Her friends had been wise enough to barricade the entrance. Perhaps the window? She could see into the shop; there were no obvious obstructions. But no. Tommy was too smart for that.

  “Come on,” Desa said.

  She focused and triggered her Gravity-Sink. A quick jump sent her flying to the building’s upper levels. There were windows that looked in on what seemed to be an apartment, but it was too dark to say for certain.

  She halted her upward momentum by killing her Gravity-Sink for only a fraction of a second. That done, she hovered about fifteen feet off the ground. A distant scream sent shivers down her spine.

  Rojan joined her, floating effortlessly at her side. Desa had to admit that she was impressed. Precision flight was no easy feat. You had to learn to control your velocity, when to trigger and kill your Infusions and for how long.

  Thrusting her hand out, Desa triggered the Force-Source in her ring. The window collapsed – not just the glass but the wooden frame as well – and debris flew into the bedroom.

  Desa grabbed the sill and pulled herself through the opening, killing her Sink once she was inside. She stood up, glass crunching under her boots, and scanned her surroundings. A neatly-made bed with red sheets was propped against the wall. A mirror with a brass frame reflected the sunlight.

  This was probably the bookkeeper’s apartment.

  She paced across the room and opened the door to the parlour. There, she found Kalia, Tommy and Mercy sitting crosslegged on the hardwood floor. Rojan followed a moment later.

  He stopped dead beside Desa, his brows drawn together as he studied the trio. “This is Mercy?” he asked. “She looks so…ordinary.”

  Crossing her arms with a sigh, Desa shook her head. “She’s human now,” she explained. “It’s a long story.”

  Mercy severed contact with the Ether and then cracked an eye, smiling
when she saw who had come to help her. “Ah, Rojan,” she said. “I’ve wanted to meet you for some time now. I would make a proper introduction, but I’m afraid we must make haste. Please make yourself one with the Field.”

  “The Field?” Rojan stammered.

  Desa knelt on the floor, folding her hands in her lap and closing her eyes. “The Ether,” she clarified. “Hurry.”

  The Ether came the moment she reached for it, the world transforming into a sea of molecules that flitted about like fireflies on a summer night. Her friends were all glowing. Except Rojan. He took a seat on the floor, concentrating, but nothing happened.

  Desa’s heart went out to him. He had never come into contact with one of those enormous crystals. He had never felt the steady thrum of pulses that guided him to the Ether, that opened his mind.

  It had been much the same for Desa before her first trip to the desert. On a bad day, it might have taken her several minutes to find the Ether. She used to lose herself in the forms while training with the Elite Guardians, letting her mind drift.

  Unfortunately, they didn’t have a few minutes. This city was crawling with grays. Every second they wasted cost lives. She needed Rojan to focus, but pressuring him would only make the task more difficult. What to do?

  Pulses began to emanate from Mercy, a steady rhythm that flowed over Rojan like waves crashing on a sandy beach. He felt them instantly, flinching as if someone had splashed him with cold water. It wasn’t long before he too was glowing, wrapped in the Ether’s embrace.

  Now, Mercy said. Together…

  Dalen couldn’t resist the urge to prod his chest with two fingers. The bullet hole was gone, and he felt fine. Better than fine. He felt as if he had just woken up from a good night’s sleep. Even knowing about the crystals’ strange powers, he was still amazed by that.

  Jim stood up, clearing his throat, and then turned his back. He seemed to be staring off toward the wall that surrounded the barracks. “Are you all right?”

  “Fine,” Dalen mumbled.