Ruby Callaway- The Complete Collection

by D. N. Erikson

  “Is that an apology?”

  “I already said sorry, Ruby.”

  “You could say it again.” I brushed my fingers over the surface, creating small ripples.

  “It’s been my life for so long,” Roark said. “Finding out what happened to Sam…I just can’t let it go. Even when you know you should, right?” He shook his head, a bitter smile spreading over his lips. “And that’s what I thought you’d understand.”

  My voice took a hardened edge. “Not this again.”

  “I thought you might be able to save me from myself,” he said quietly. “But I can’t stop until I know.”

  “So that’s it, huh?” I splashed the stream water on my face, feeling a refreshing tingle in my cheeks.

  “You’re pissed.”

  “What gave you that impression?” I rose from the water and walked toward him. His eyes got a little wider, but I passed right by him like he wasn’t there, heading for my clothes on the bank. The damp fabric smelled fresh, now.

  The Tributary could fix a lot of things.

  But it couldn’t fix everything.

  After wringing them out, I got dressed and returned to the stream. Without another option, I drank deeply from the shore. A healing energy passed through my chest, soothing my aching bones and relieving the pounding in my head.

  Not back to full speed, but it would do for a temporary fix.

  I grabbed the Realmpiece, shotgun, spare shells, and knife from the river bank and glanced at Roark, who stared at the horizon, deep in thought.

  “Time to get moving.”

  Rising from the sand, he said, “Well, lead the way.”

  “Thought you’d never ask.” I gave a cursory look toward the ocean horizon, where Odessa had disappeared. Then I headed further inland, where the river disappeared into the lush forest. Around the bend, not two hundred yards beyond our temporary rest stop, I halted, jaw almost dropping from the sight.

  A glittering golden city in the hills, draped in emerald moss. The river poured forth from the mountain on which the gleaming ruins had been built.

  “So, you think Odessa might’ve headed the wrong way?” Roark asked, breaking our stunned silence.

  “I’d say that’s safe to say.”

  We hurried toward the lost city in breathless excitement. Thoughts of victory clouded my head: we’d reach the source far ahead of MagiTekk. Odessa was sworn not to hurt me—and she’d gone the wrong way, besides.

  The Tributary belonged to us for the time being. Smelling the faint scent of smoke—and feeling a heat rising from the ground—I shot Roark a funny look.

  “Is it just me, or—”

  My question was cut off by the ground rumbling beneath my boots. Far above the city, at the mountain’s peak, a mirror emerged, positioning itself toward the sun. It caught light’s energy, the city seemingly absorbing the beams. Its golden exterior shimmered violently, and I had to shield my eyes.

  Through the cracks in my fingers, I watched as the giant mirror turned, focusing the concentrated light on a point on the blue horizon. The sky sizzled as the light burned a hole through the very fabric of the Realm.

  It was then that I figured out what Odessa had been up to, out by the ocean.

  She’d been helping her partners.

  Because, when the mirror was finished, the tear in the sky led straight back to a very familiar place indeed.

  Right to MagiTekk’s headquarters.

  25

  “Well, that’s a problem.” I stared at Phoenix’s neon skyline seeping through the jagged hole in the fabric of the Realm. It was like a giant had torn the Tributary’s seams apart and exposed the ugly core lurking beneath.

  But that was an illusion. The sunburst had simply opened a long-lost connection between the two Realms—one that didn’t require my skills to access. From the outside, no one could open such passageways.

  But from the inside…

  Rocks sunk in my stomach as I realized that I’d done exactly as the pictograms had predicted.

  I’d opened the Tributary up to the barbarian hordes.

  Not that I’d had much of a choice.

  Odessa wasn’t directly attacking us, so it didn’t violate the terms of our Blood Oath. Never trust a demoness.

  “It all makes sense, now,” Roark said, musing beneath his breath. His muscles quivered, a vein in his neck pulsating with fury. His hand firmly gripped his empty sidearm, even though we were all alone near the city’s steps.

  “Care to elaborate?”

  “Look.” Roark gestured toward the broken horizon, where an ugly world encroached upon perfection. “They’re building a bridge. This is what they’ve been planning for years. This was always their end game.”

  “Good to know they have a plan.” Especially when we didn’t have one beyond beat them to the source.

  Something glinted in the well-maintained plaza in front of MagiTekk’s headquarters. Carbon fiber, maybe. But their activities were difficult to make out since the tear was at least three or four miles away. I turned and tugged on Roark’s arm.

  “We knew this could happen,” I said.

  “My father will send the Ghosts,” Roark said.

  I shivered at the thought of Malcolm Roark’s black ops spellcasters. Beneath their sleek, form-fitted tactical suits was a frightening amount of power. They’d leveled part of the Mud Belt—killing the de facto overlord, Aaron Daniels, in the process—with startling ease.

  Roark and I alone stood no chance in a direct standoff against MagiTekk’s army. With a resigned sigh, I said, “Then we better move quickly.”

  “I don’t know if we can outrun this, Ruby.”

  “But we’ll have to try.”

  I stared up at the city of chipped gold, overtaken by moss. The gods had fought to seal this place away from the rest of the Realms. But they’d built in a failsafe, for the end of days. I didn’t believe much in fate, or destinies.

  Or even being a heroine.

  But I believed one thing.

  Right now, Roark and I were the only thing that stood between MagiTekk and unlimited power.

  Lungs burning, I raced up the steps, feeling every moment of the past week pressing down on my shoulders, screaming to quit. Give in. That it was all futile. And that might very well have been true.

  Malcolm Roark had strength in numbers. He had near-infinite resources. He even had a crazed demoness on his side. And he was willing to scorch the Earth to achieve his ultimate goal.

  But there were still things that needed to be done.

  And no one else left to do them.

  Behind the city’s façade lurked a beautiful, ancient ghost town of crumbling yellow stone. Like the exterior, much of the gold had flaked away, replaced by lush, creeping moss that spread over the tan bricks like a web of green arteries. The sunlight, having finished ripping a hole in the Realm, shimmered through the cracks in the tall structures, casting shadows on the warm cobbles.

  The streets were narrow, with the buildings packed tightly together. The city was tiered all the way up a mountain face, the top of which seemed to touch the sun itself. In the silent streets, our quiet footsteps and the river rushing beneath the road were the only noises.

  Without a map to guide us, and my intuition taking a nap due to fatigue, I tried the Realmpiece once more. The pewter instrument spun in circles for a moment before landing on a symbol that I didn’t recognize. Being ancient, most of the symbols had long gone out of use and made little sense to modern eyes.

  At a junction where three narrow streets haphazardly crossed paths at odd angles, I showed Roark the Realmpiece.

  “If you’re asking what it means, I have no idea.” His blue eyes scanned the empty city. I’d noticed his hand hadn’t left his pistol the whole time. He was clearly very paranoid about the Ghosts showing up. Too bad he didn’t have any bullets. “You’re the expert on these things.”

  “Ideas would be nice.” I looked at the slivers of light cutting through a broken
second-story stone window. I wondered what this city had been like 70,000 years ago. What gods had once lived there—died there?

  “I’m fresh out of ideas, Ruby.” Roark’s lips were pursed in the type of grim expression that oft-precipitated imminent defeat. I had to admit, things weren’t going great. MagiTekk was closing in. Malcolm Roark had made it clear that he’d do anything to achieve his goals—even destroying an entire city wasn’t a bridge too far.

  At the start of the day, MagiTekk had been reeling. Now, they had the upper hand.

  And we were lost in a sprawling city of gilded stone, searching aimlessly for the source of the Tributary.

  To what real end? I couldn’t even answer that. I had no clear plan on how we might harness the power within. No ideas on how the water at the source could be used to foil Malcolm Roark’s long-brewing plans.

  And then there was the issue of Kalos and Argos, held hostage in Solon’s Woods. Had Prince Martin freed them? Or had the castle fallen under siege, the human prince buried beneath the rubble as Roark and I led Odessa into the Tributary?

  Which led me to the demoness: the wild card. Harcourt, were he still alive, would’ve been proud of the chaos she had wrought, the wrinkles she had added to the game. I didn’t appreciate her involvement, nor her circumventing the spirit of the Blood Oath.

  But that was my fault for not having insisted upon a more ironclad contract.

  Time limits were a real bitch.

  “Hey,” Roark said, nudging me from my thoughts. “It shifted.” He tapped the Realmpiece, and I glanced down at the instrument’s face.

  This time, it had landed upon a symbol I recognized—one that brought the previous one meaning. The original symbol had looked like a book, which was naturally impossible—bound volumes wouldn’t be invented for thousands of years when the Realmpiece had been crafted. But closer inspection revealed a stone tablet.

  It stood for law. Order. Written in stone.

  And the second symbol was clear to anyone—70,000 years in the past or a million years hence.

  A burning ball of light.

  “Follow the sun to find the law,” I said, glancing at the light filtering through the cracked, empty windows.

  “Law?”

  “Our fates, I guess.” I sprinted off in pursuit of the sun down the centermost alley. Roark’s feet pounded loudly on the cobbles behind.

  With the sun as our north star, we wound through the city of the dead gods. Unlike on Earth, the sun seemed to shift with our position, reacting to our movements. It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility, given how Odessa had harnessed its powers to burn a hole through the Tributary’s very fabric.

  Sprinting through the mossy, abandoned streets, up flights of stairs, down through narrow alleys that would barely fit a bicycle, Roark and I eventually found ourselves at the edge of a broken bridge. Its middle had crumbled into the churning falls hundreds of feet below, leaving an insurmountable chasm.

  Here, the once placid Tributary roiled and raged, foam shooting up from the rumbling abyss to slicken the stones. I edged my way out as far as I could to survey the land. Higher up, the city continued for another two levels. Down below, the rings of the city stretched out, finally giving way to brilliant greenery and perfect streams. I counted seven levels that we had made our way through. The sweat gluing my shirt to my back confirmed that we’d come a long way.

  Just not far or fast enough.

  On the horizon, I saw what Roark had warned of: the bridge solidifying the gate between the Tributary and downtown Phoenix. It was already being assembled, little ants and specks working in the ocean to forge a permanent entranceway. When that was finished, MagiTekk would be free to channel the power of the source to its own ends.

  I clutched the wet stone railing and eased my way back from the broken precipice. The sun blazed on the other side of the shattered bridge, beckoning us forward. But the chasm spanned at least fifty feet.

  “MagiTekk’s working fast.” I shook the mist out of my damp hair and took a deep breath. Every one of my bones seemed to crack and rattle. “We need to get to the other side.”

  “I think this is the end of the line,” Roark said, his brow furrowed in worry.

  “Not sure I understand what you mean.”

  “You can’t hear it?”

  I gave him a funny look. Aside from crashing water, I heard nothing. But that was because I hadn’t been listening—so caught up in what I might find at the source that I hadn’t been concerned about other matters.

  Like who might be following us.

  Surely enough, quiet footfalls pitter-pattered through the ancient city.

  “We have to head back.”

  “You know who that is,” Roark said, weariness permeating his voice. “Ghosts.”

  “Not very Ghost-like.”

  “Not everyone can be as quiet as you, Ruby.” We shared a moment of silence, allowing the compliment to linger. The gentle footfalls grew louder, until they were like mosquitos humming in my ears. Impossible to drown out.

  I looked frantically down the street from where we’d come. “There’s a junction a few hundred—”

  “You know they’ll find us if we hide.” Roark had his hand on his pistol. “Sweep the city.”

  “Then we’ll kill them all.” I reached for the shotgun, but Roark shook his head. “It’s a choke point.”

  “They’ll come from the windows. The rooftops.” Roark swung his head around three-hundred-sixty degrees, assessing the situation with practiced ease. “We’re in the choke point.”

  “And here I thought you were an optimist.” I wrinkled my nose, allowing my hand to slide off the gun’s stock. The river pounded beneath us, the threat of imminent death behind us. The glittering city on the hill, like so many others before it, had proven to be little more than a mirage.

  How fitting that it would all end here. Right at the beginning. With me giving MagiTekk the key to the garden of evil.

  “Check the bridge,” Roark said.

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m keeping an eye on the alleyway.”

  With no energy to argue, I dragged myself back to the edge, looking out at the torn corner of the world. Nothing had changed, at least not for the better.

  I heard him load his pistol with two rounds. It cocked sharply in the blue daylight.

  “I thought you said we couldn’t fight.”

  “We’re not fighting.”

  The mist showering down upon me, I turned and said, “Then what are you doing?”

  “Do you trust me?” He pointed the gun at me.

  “Have you gone fucking crazy?”

  “Do you trust me?” Roark repeated, his blue gaze steady. The gun didn’t waver.

  I saw a red dot on my sternum. His pistol didn’t come with a mounted laser sight. I glanced at Roark in confusion, not answering.

  Then the pistol barked twice, the bullets slamming into my shoulder, sending me hurtling into the roiling sea below.

  26

  I came to in a world of darkness, battling a formless, frothing monster. I tried to scream, but water rushed into my mouth, choking my throat.

  I was underwater.

  The events played back like a sped-up flipbook: do you trust me? Roark’s pistol firing. Crashing over the edge, hearing the Ghosts shouting above. The bark of a sniper rifle missing its mark before I plunged into the cold, churning water.

  And now, coming to seconds after impact, fighting for my life. I tried to move my right arm, but the howling pain reminded me of Roark’s betrayal. Trust you, my ass. I could’ve just jumped. Now I was drowning. Hardly the placid stream that had brushed against my toes hours earlier.

  Bubbles rushed from my lips as I unleashed a silent scream. I kicked and clawed at the shapeless churn, trying to fight my way to the surface. But I was caught in a sort of riptide, the current pinning me down. At less than full strength, even the will to survive couldn’t propel me to safety.

  Angry, I
battled the water for a few moments longer before letting go. The corners of my vision darkened, my thoughts drifting toward an inevitable conclusion.

  You’re going to die, Ruby Callaway.

  That got the blood flowing again. Eyes searching the clear, cold water, I found a sliver of sunlight cutting through to my left. The Realmpiece had told me to head toward the sun, right?

  I had no other plan. Awkwardly paddling with my left arm, I turned my aching body toward the light. Using my last energy to kick, I traveled about fifteen feet, reaching the source of the light. It was as if a ten-ton weight had been lifted from my back. The riptide stopped holding me down.

  Elated, I burst upward, slicing through the water like a fish.

  I emerged from the river and drew a deep breath, choking and shivering. The current carried me a half-mile downstream, back to the start of the forested area. It deposited me gently on the shore, where I huddled in a soggy ball, desperately trying to get warm. Pain rocketed through my wounded right shoulder.

  I battled against the seductive allure of sleep. But I knew if I slept out here on the perfect yellow sand, I’d be found by the Ghosts. Best-case scenario, they’d drag me back to Malcolm as a war trophy. He could find out how far I would bend until the end of days.

  Worst-case scenario, they’d shoot me in the head and toss my body in the river.

  Their studies were over. They’d found out how to traverse the Realms. What more use did they have for Ruby Callaway?

  Teeth chattering, the sun setting in the distance, I crawled off the sand, into the lush forest. I still had the shotgun and the knife. The Realmpiece, too, judging from the way its edges dug into my thigh. But I was shot and bleeding, already exhausted.

  Serenity hadn’t told me what to expect if I sustained additional injuries. But I suspected they could exacerbate still-healing wounds. Like the radiation poisoning I thought I’d kicked.

  Dragging myself on hand and knee through the verdant forest, I finally reached a position far enough from the beach where I was hidden from view. Panting heavily, I leaned against the solid trunk of a nearby tree.