by T. A. White
As his lips shaped an order, Ilith streaked past him, arrowing toward Ryu. A shadow the size of a large cat dropped from above, Ilith and Rath tangling in midair.
A shield of gleaming light formed as Ai opened her mouth and blistering energy erupted toward Ryu.
It splashed against the shield. Bright light flared, the intensity of which forced those present to look away and protect their eyes or risk being blinded.
When it abated, Tate looked up to find Rath draped over Ryu’s shoulders like a stole while Ilith hovered tiredly between Ai’s image and the other two.
Her dragon’s scales were pale, her face exhausted even as her eyes burned with determination. Ilith wasn’t moving even if it meant her death.
“Nice trick, but no matter.” Nathan’s grip strengthened on her shoulder, holding her upright, the cold in his hand spreading to her skin and sapping her strength. “The more you struggle; the more pleasurable your eventual defeat is to me.”
Tate didn’t have anything to say, could only stare defiantly up at him as he aimed a taunting smile at Ai.
“Do it.”
Power built again in Ai as Tate made a small sound of denial. Despair sank bitter claws into her. Hope depleting.
Before the last of Tate’s will deserted her, Roslyn’s ghostly mirage took shape at Dewdrop and Ai’s sides. Roslyn closed her eyes, placing one hand on Dewdrop’s shoulder and holding the other out toward Ai’s physical body hovering in midair over the console.
Sound, several times more intense and savage than Dewdrop’s banshee scream, sundered the air. Ai’s image flickered from the intensity of the sound waves.
“What is this?” Nathan’s gaze held only confusion as Night landed on the ground. The rest of those who were supposed to be immobile stirred.
Ryu lifted his head, fixing eyes filled with wrath on Nathan.
Tate smirked. “Oh, you know, just a gift from some old friends.”
Rage made Nathan’s cruel features even more brutal. “She has a mental-based relic. They left you a pandora’s box.”
Tate winked. “Surprise.”
Ryu yanked at his wrists, his muscles bulging as the metal holding one wrist snapped with an audible crack.
“All that power and you gave it to someone else?” Nathan asked with a stunned expression as if it had never occurred to him Tate would pass up such a thing. Probably because in her place he would never do the same.
“I’m powerful enough, and everyone could use a little help now and then.”
Nathan’s expression wiped clean, knowledge of his imminent defeat on his face. He’d lost and he knew it.
“No matter. At least I’ll be able to end you.”
Ryu’s other wrist snapped free.
Tate’s eyes flicked to a shadow at Nathan’s left. Nathan let go of Tate, his blade starting to lift. Peter’s blade fell into the space between Nathan and Tate, severing Nathan’s arm in one clean movement.
Nathan’s arm, still holding the black blade, clattered to the floor amid a splash of blood. Nathan’s scream was a shrill accompaniment to the interference Roslyn was projecting.
Nathan staggered a few steps away, the blood from his arm leaving a trail across the floor. “You—”
Peter’s face was entirely blank as he watched Nathan catch himself on the console. The remainder of his arm started to blacken, small tendrils of darkness crawling up his face.
“What did you do to me?” Nathan asked as those tendrils reached his face and his skin whitened.
“The Polar’s Kiss. Don’t you remember? It’s what you used on my mother when you killed her,” Peter said calmly.
“Kenneth’s boy.” Nathan lost his hold on the console and fell.
“I couldn’t get revenge then, but time makes all things better, wouldn’t you say?”
Nathan lay down, a dry chuckle escaping him. “Is this how you want this to go, Tate? It’s not very Savior-like”
Tate stepped close, wanting her face to be the last thing he saw. “I never had any illusions of being a Savior. All that ever mattered to me was protecting the people I love. You got in the way of that. You really should have known better.”
Tate held her hand out to stop Ryu’s charge. Her lover’s expression was almost feral as he hovered only a few feet away, the intention of ending Nathan written on his face.
Tate understood. She really did, but she didn’t want Nathan to die so easily, and whatever death Ryu gave him would be infinitely more merciful than Peter’s Polar Kiss by the look of things.
Nathan’s breaths came faster. “If you join me, you’ll never have to worry about such things again. You’ll be immortal. So will they.”
Tate’s smile was wry. “No thanks. I like things just fine the way they are.”
Peter lifted the sword before Tate could stop him and brought it down with a guttural grunt. “This time, Nathan, I have no intentions of giving you the chance to resurrect.”
It cut through Nathan’s neck like paper, biting into the deck and lodging there. Nathan’s head separated from his shoulders and rolled to a stop at Tate’s feet.
Tate walked away from him, crossing the floor to where her lover waited. “Goodbye, Nathan. Looks like you were right. This really was the end.”
TWENTY THREE
Tate stopped in front of Ryu, her gaze traveling over his body. There weren’t many places uninjured. Blood coated his chest and arms, the only thing remaining of his clothes were his pants.
Her expression was pained as one hand hovered over his chest.
Ryu was the first to move, taking Tate into his arms and pulling her to him tight, unmindful of the pain such an action must have caused.
Tate made a small keening sound as she finally let herself register the fact that he wasn’t dead. That he was somehow still with her.
A rumbling purr sounded under her ear, comforting her.
Tate dug her face further into his chest as her shoulders shook with the effort to suppress her sobs.
The tattoo of Rath lay under her cheek, a part of her still able to feel the connection Ilith had initiated, and beyond it, Ryu.
That whisper of a connection loosened the anxious feeling in Tate, letting her know that she could reach out at any time and touch the piece within her that was him. Assuring her he was still here. That he still breathed.
Tate moved back, lifting her head to meet Ryu’s gaze.
He dropped his forehead to touch hers, his eyes closing as he reached up to cup her neck with both hands.
They stood like that, taking each other in, until a scuff of shoe against the deck brought her back to the fact that there was still unfinished business to take care of.
Tate and Ryu looked up to find Dewdrop standing next to them with an uncertain expression.
“How much longer do we have to do this?” he asked, pointing to the mirage of Roslyn still holding his shoulder. “I’m not really a fan of being touched by ghosts. It feels creepy.”
Roslyn’s expression was exhausted, the image of her worn and faded.
Tate stepped away from Ryu, squeezing his hands when he was reluctant to let her go. “I think that’s enough.”
Roslyn lifted her hand from Dewdrop’s shoulder. “Are you sure?”
“Nathan’s gone. Without his control commands, she no longer has to fulfil his orders.”
It might have been arrogant, but Tate couldn’t bring herself to believe Ai had lost so much of herself that she would attack mindlessly unless directly threatened.
Over and over again during the battle and before, Ai had done the bare minimum to fulfil Nathan’s orders. Going so far as to miss key opportunities to hurt and kill Tate and the others.
As if to prove Tate’s words, the adult image of Ai stabilized when Roslyn stopped amplifying Dewdrop’s banshee frequency. Her expression returned to a blank mask.
“Do you remember who I am?” Tate asked.
“Tatum Allegra Winters.”
Ai’s voice was
as robotic and emotionless as the first time Tate had met her.
“Do you remember who you were?”
This time there was no answer. Deep in Ai’s gaze, buried almost where Tate couldn’t see it, was a spark. Of interest or hope or something else, Tate couldn’t say.
Tate moved closer. “You’re Ai. My friend and the owner of this place.”
Ai looked around, taking in the bridge, her eyes stopping on her body still suspended over the console. “That’s me.”
Tate nodded. “Yes.”
“Why am I over here then?”
Tate hesitated. “That’s a long story.”
“There are other versions of me within.”
Tate nodded, feeling something of relief. “Yes. Do you have memories from those other versions?”
Ai focused on Tate, her expression almost childlike. “They are there but not there. I cannot access them at this time.”
Tate released the breath she’d been holding, disappointment replacing the relief she’d just had.
Ai looked back up at her suspended body, something close to yearning flitting across her face before disappearing.
That yearning gave Tate a hint of hope that some piece of her friend remained. “What do you feel when you look at your body?”
Ai’s forehead creased. “Feel?”
“Do you wish you and she were one?”
Ai’s head tilted as she focused on her body once again. “I don’t think that is possible. The other versions of me cannot be separated from this place.”
Tate’s shoulders slumped.
“But—”
Tate’s head lifted to find the purest expression of naked longing on her face, the first real emotion Tate had ever seen in the minor goddess.
“It would be nice if the part of me that is her was allowed out.”
“Is that wise?” Dewdrop asked as Night slunk to their side. “She did almost kill us all. I don’t think her real body is bound to this place like the rest of her.”
Just the thought of an all-powerful Ai able to wander the world at will was enough to send chills down Tate’s back.
For a moment, Tate hesitated, the responsibility of the world threatening to crush her. Did she have the right to make such a big decision just because she could?
Ai’s head tilted in a gesture Tate recognized from the younger version of herself. “My abilities are only possible in this form. My physical body will not have the same capabilities.”
Tate pressed her mouth together, wavering for a split second before nodding. So be it.
“The freedom of choice was what this world was founded on,” Tate finally said.
Ai and the other half-Ijiri deserved the chance to make those choices in the same way the Silva and Kairi once had. Tate was under no illusion that they would always be choices she agreed with, but they’d been enslaved in their domains long enough. It was time for them to take charge of their own destinies.
“I will release your physical self,” Tate said, meeting Ai’s gaze.
“If it will make you feel better, I can promise never to harm a human.”
Tate’s smile was poignant as she walked toward the console. “While the sentiment is welcome, I can’t in good conscience accept it. The years are long, and you never know what you may encounter. I would never want to take away your ability to defend yourself.”
Ai’s gaze clung to Tate, a lack of understanding written on her face.
Tate shook her head, not explaining further. Some things, Ai would have to figure out for herself.
Tate climbed on top of the console, reaching for the red gem on the collar. Already cracked, Tate sensed it wouldn’t take much effort to destroy it fully.
A part of her wished she could restore the Ai she knew and have one last conversation with the other woman. An impossibility with all Nathan had done.
In some ways, this was Ai’s death, but in others it was also her rebirth. Tate held onto that as she concentrated.
Tiny cracks spread from those already present, splintering through the gem faster and faster until it disintegrated fully.
The field suspending Ai lowered her to the ground as the Ai behind Tate flickered and then disappeared.
As she did so, the eyes of the woman in front of her opened, the deep black of her iris and pupil focusing on Tate.
“Who are you?” Ai said haltingly.
Tate’s smile was pained. “I’m your friend. Tatum Allegra Winters.”
Ai frowned, the expression awkward and unwieldy on a face that had probably not known expressions in an eternity. “And who am I?”
Tate held out a hand to her. “My friend. Ai.”
Slowly, hesitantly, Ai took Tate’s hand, allowing Tate to draw help her off the console. She looked around with a distant gaze, taking in her surroundings with the same detached expression as the old Ai.
There was a screech from above as a phalanx of dragonlettes, led by a dragon Tate recognized as Daisy’s, swept out of the entrance leading to the rest of the tunnels.
They circled above their heads, their screeches echoing in the wide space.
“What are they doing here?” Tate asked, staring up at them as a few batted their wings against the ceiling and their foreclaws clung to almost nonexistent holds.
Daisy’s dragon winged toward them, landing in front of Dewdrop where she warbled before butting her head against his chest.
“Dewdrop.” Tate’s voice cracked with authority.
“I have no idea, Tate, I swear. When the sleepers came for me and it was clear we couldn’t all escape, I gave Daisy the cube and told her to run. I guess they didn’t listen.”
Tate fixed Daisy’s dragon, Skye, with a look. “I guess not.”
Tate could feel a headache coming on. With effort, she pushed aside her concern and rebukes. Nathan was dead and even if he hadn’t been, she couldn’t say she wouldn’t have done exactly as the dragonlettes had in their place.
Though she did wonder how they’d managed to find this place.
The dragonlette followed her bonded’s link to the young one, Ilith whispered.
Tate frowned. Link? What link?
Ilith didn’t answer, falling silent as they both became aware of the mournful croons from the dragonlettes, who gathered around one of the cages.
Thora.
Tate and Ryu shared a look, grief in both their eyes at what they suspected they’d find. Her hand slipped into his as they made their way toward his now open cage.
Ben was seated as far away from Thora as he could in the small cell, still holding the unconscious body of the real Lord Provost protectively in his arms. “Thora’s been like this since the interloper hit him with the relic.”
Tate froze as she caught her first glimpse of Thora’s mishappen body, still caught in a partial transformation.
More dragon than human, he lay on his side, his labored pants almost soundless.
The dragon-human rolled his eyes toward them.
Tate forced herself to move in his direction, kneeling at Thora’s side as a sick feeling washed over her.
Her perception of time was warped because of her short stint in the med bed but from one look she could tell their shift had been delayed for far too long. The fact they were still alive was a miracle in and of itself.
Ryu’s hand clasped her shoulder, his face a mask of pain as he took in his oldest friend. The knowledge that things didn’t look good for him was written on his face.
“Thora,” Tate said in a choked voice.
“Little Queen.”
Not Thora then.
“Dragon.”
The smile he gave her was weary. “After all this time of fighting him, we are finally dying.”
Tate slipped her hand into his, trying not to flinch at the icy feeling of his fingers.
His pupil nictated as his lips parted in a macabre smile that was more nightmare than expression of pleasure. “You feel sorrow for both of us.”
“Yes, Th
ora is my friend.”
“But I am not.”
This time it was Tate’s turn to smile. “You share too much in common with my bonded for me to feel nothing.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Tate caught sight of the emperor and Tyne slipping into the cell. Tyne stood on his tiptoes to get a better look at Thora, pulling an expression when he caught sight of the painful looking half-shift.
Thaddeus tugged him back and Tyne gave him a look as if to ask what did he do.
“Kindness. An emotion we weren’t familiar with until we came here.” The dragon’s gaze turned distant. “I did not mean to come to this land. I was curious and by the time I realized it was too late.”
“Is there no way to save you?”
The dragon shook his head. “We are both tired. Perhaps if our bond was like yours and the little queen’s we might have hope, but our trust in each other was broken long ago. There is no hope now.”
Tate’s breath caught. “Then reclaim that bond.”
The dragon’s hand flexed in hers. “Too much has happened on both sides for us to ever extend that trust again.
“Try,” Tate pleaded.
“I do not wish to, nor does he. This is our end. Please allow us to go.”
Ryu’s breath caught on a choked sound of pain. When she looked up, his face was an emotionless mask, only the redness of his eyes showing the agony he bottled up inside.
Tate looked back down at Thora, a sense of loss carving out her insides. This wasn’t the first person whose hand she’d held as they died, but it never got easier, no matter how many times it happened.
Her relationship with Thora hadn’t started off on the best foot but she’d grown to respect him. Not just as a person but as a commander. There was no one who was as devoted to the dragon-ridden as him. She could honestly say he always had their best interests at heart.
Her throat tight, Tate nodded.
“If there’s one thing I could ask, it would be to feel home one last time,” he said with a nostalgic expression on his face.
“We can do that,” Thaddeus said, speaking up from behind Tate. His emerald eyes met hers when she looked up.
She moved back as Archie and Ryu moved forward. She stood and backed away as they picked Thora up and carried him out of the cage.