Lincoln

by Christina Bauer

  Once the door is closed behind us, Camilla focuses on me. “This Tithe,” she begins. “Did he make Myla into an effigy?”

  “He’s trying. She’s not an effigy yet.”

  Camilla clasps her hands by her throat. “So my baby’s still alive.”

  “Yes, but I need to get to her before the Tithe finishes his work.”

  Camilla’s mouth quivers. “How long?”

  I look around the room, my mind making calculations. “The Tithe took one of my ministers, Jali. That thrax fought the process for a few hours. Myla is tough. She can last at least that long.”

  Camilla inhales a shaky breath. “But Myla’s not at her strongest right now. I wouldn’t count on her having much time at all. You must hurry.” Reaching forward, she grips my shoulders. “Bring my baby home to me.”

  When I speak, I force all my will into the words. “You can count on it.” Stepping backward, I bow to Camilla. “I’ll be off.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “To visit the mermaids.”

  Camilla slowly nods. I take that as the most approval I’ll get for this plan. Turning, I head out the front door. Nightshade awaits; I hoist myself onto her saddle. As Night and I gallop of to the temporary transfer Pulpitum, I think through everything that’s happened since I met Myla.

  At first, I felt it was my duty to leave Myla alone. Then I gave in and trusted my love for her. Now I simply can’t lose her. Even when she fought Armageddon, I never lost faith in Myla’s abilities. But now, an enemy is targeting her when she’s already ill.

  I have fought my emotions.

  Feared them.

  Embraced them.

  Now I’ll burn down the after-realms before I’ll allow someone to hurt my queen.

  45

  Nightshade’s hooves pound across the marshy hills and through the sickly forest. Within minutes, I stand outside the round tent that marks the temporary Pulpitum station. We’d planned to keep it open for a few weeks after evacuation, just in case.

  I never thought I’d need it for a rescue mission.

  Sliding off Nightshade, I call around. “Walker? Convincing Transfer Central to hide my platform journey won’t be easy. If you’re going to show up, now would be a great time.”

  Nothing.

  Ah, well. Worth a try. I rush inside the tent.

  “Activating temporary station. Lincoln Vidar Osric Aquilus.” From the top center of the tent, a grid of white laser beams crisscross the space, scanning me.

  Once again, Cassandra’s voice echoes through the space. “Identity confirmed. You aren’t scheduled for transfer today, my prince.” Beyond Cassandra, there’s the sound of other operators in Transfer Central.

  “Can we switch to private comm?” I ask.

  “Yes.” Clicking sounds echo through the chamber. When Cassandra speaks again, I hear her voice alone. No background noise. Whatever we say now, it will be private. “What do you require?” she asks.

  “I need transfer to Earth, New York Harbor Station.”

  “That’s not on the schedule. I’ll need to do an emergency alert.”

  I pinch the bridge of my nose. “And those alerts go to my parents and Aldred, correct?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  I shake my head. We thrax are diligent about security. Any passage in or out of Antrum must be scheduled. All emergency transfers get an instant alert. It’s the equivalent of a big red siren going off in the palace. If my parents discover I’m making a rush transfer, they’ll panic. In seconds, I’ll have half the Rixa army and all the nobility racing to New York Harbor. Even worse, Aldred will insist on joining them as well. I can’t rescue Myla if I’m dealing with that amount of nonsense.

  “Can you transfer me now and wait two hours to send the alert?” I ask. “This between Purgatory and Earth. Antrum isn’t involved. It’s not a security risk.”

  There’s a long pause while Cassandra thinks things over. “But you’re our prince. Your safety is paramount.”

  “All I’m asking for is two hours. System glitches stall out alerts all the time.” I shift my weight from foot to foot. All this waiting is making me nuts. “This is important.”

  Moments pass. My fingers curls into fists. First Walker can’t help by creating portals. Now Cassandra’s getting cold feet about a simple two-hour alert delay. Meanwhile, Myla’s very soul is at risk. I travel the after-realms constantly. There’s never this level of hassle. Why today of all days?

  Finally, Cassandra speaks. “Two hours.” Another click sounds; the background noise returns. “Confirmed and ready at your signal.”

  I exhale. “Launch transfer on my mark. 3, 2, 1.”

  Beneath my feet, the transfer platform hurtles into the ground. I stream past magma and stone. At some point, we also pass the magical barrier between realms, but my platform moves too quickly for it to register to the naked eye. Soon the metal disc slams to a halt inside a metal shipping container. A lone light bulb hangs from a single cord above me. I push open the rusty door and step out onto a misty New York night. Haze obscures the city. Odd lights blink in the mist.

  It’s a welcome sight.

  I race to the end of the Pier 34 and cast the required charms to hide all trace of myself and the mermaids. Then I step down the side ladder to the harbor, swish my hand in the chilly water, and wait.

  Thankfully, the pause isn’t a long one.

  Soon Cordelia and Dwyn surface nearby. “Are you here about the dissolus?” asks Cordelia.

  I blink hard, remembering. That’s right. There’s an infestation here. “Not tonight.”

  Cordelia tosses her seaweed hair. “The thrax warriors said it would be fixed and soon,” she complains. “The dissolus are frightening our flocks.”

  “This is Acca patrol territory. They’ll return within twenty four hours and fight the dissolus. I swear it.” In my mind’s eye, I picture punching Aldred in the face. The earl promised he’d fix this. Many times. And yet it’s still an issue. “Right now, I need you to take me to the Tower of Wonders.”

  “To kill the Tithe?” ask Dwyn and Cordelia together. The hopeful look on their scaled faces makes one thing clear. When it comes to this pair, killing the Tithe might be rather motivating.

  “Absolutely,” I state.

  “We’re in,” says Cordelia. “And you don’t even have to kiss us.”

  “No kisses,” confirms Dwyn. “I’ll get a boat.”

  “Please hurry,” I entreat.

  There’s barely a sound as Dwyn disappears under the water. Nervous energy rattles through me. I need to do something and focus. I turn to Cordelia.

  “Why so much hatred for the Tithe?” I ask.

  Cordelia bares her pointed teeth. “When it comes to scaring our flocks, he’s worse than the dissolus. Effigy warriors tramping around all day and night. Most of the Tower of Wonders is underwater, you know. That’s a lot of noise for fishy ears.”

  “I can imagine.”

  A small rowboat streams across the harbor, stopping beside the pier. Dwyn surfaces beside it. “Your ride.”

  There’s no mistaking the boat’s name. Municipal Dinghy #716 is written in faded paint on the bow. Oh, well. At this point, there’s no time to procure a boat that isn’t stolen. I climb into the small vessel.

  The moment I’m seated, the hull shimmies as thousands of fish swim beneath it, pressing the boat forward. I release more charms to hide our supernatural progress through the harbor. Within minutes, we’re speeding out to sea. Most of the ocean is choppy, with whitecaps and mounting waves. However, the area around my little boat always stays calm as glass. That’s Cordelia’s doing.

  Wind howls in my ears as we rush toward the spot that will resemble an oil rig, but will really be the Tower of Wonders. I’ve stared at maps of this spot for so long, I can easily calculate how much time it will take to reach the tower. Ten minutes.

  Five minutes.

  One.

  Suddenly, the mist parts. An oil platfor
m looms above us. It’s a mountain of a structure, with four hefty pillars, a wide base platform, and rusted machinery climbing into the night sky. The glamour on it is old, though, and it doesn’t take much concentration to see beyond the magical illusion.

  I focus and it soon appears.

  There’s a white tower, round and multi-leveled, with tiny slotted windows. When Cordelia first showed me the Tower of Wonders, it was a model made from dark harbor water. Now, seeing it in real life, it’s obviously made from white stone and built to copy Heaven’s Citadel. But while the heavenly school is all arched windows and twirling spires, this structure is squat and dull. Xavier’s words come back to me.

  * * *

  The Tithe sought to replace the Citadel.

  * * *

  Well, the Tithe didn’t do the best job, at least from the design side. Another revelation appears. The countdown. If the Tithe wanted to replace the Citadel, then the countdown is part of that. He needs a certain number of souls to accomplish his goals. But what for what purpose? Does he want enough warriors to fight off the angelic force protecting the Citadel? Or is there another plan in place? There are still too many puzzle pieces that don’t fit. The Tower of Wonders … the Echo Vortex … the Citadel … and Myla.

  I stiffen my spine. At one time, I wanted to wait until I understood the Tithe’s plans. I wouldn’t march into an enemy stronghold solo.

  Then the Tithe took Myla.

  Now, it doesn’t really matter what the Tithe’s full scheme may be. I’m getting my girl.

  I turn to Cordelia. “Where’s the main entrance?”

  “On the sea floor,” she replies.

  I rub my chin, thinking through my remaining charms and the best ways to take down stone warriors. Another idea appears. I refocus on Cordelia. “Can you clear out some of the floor for me? I can take down the Tithe’s warriors, but I need to approach on foot.”

  Cordelia flares her nose holes. “That won’t be easy.”

  I tilt my head and give her a winning grin. “But you want the Tithe dead.”

  “Dead, dead,” echoes Dwyn.

  The mermaids share a long look, then raise their arms high. All around the Tower of Wonders, water begins to swirl. A great vortex forms, pulling the ocean down lower and lower. Cordelia and Dwyn both grit their teeth. Their gills flex with heavy breathing. The water continues to drop until the ocean floor is exposed, revealing a swath of seaweed and rock. It’s a four story fall to the bottom.

  “You better hurry,” says Cordelia. “I don’t know how long we can hold back the ocean.”

  “Focus, focus,” echoes Dwyn. Keeping a spell going is never her strong suit.

  Nodding, I dive off the boat’s side and swim toward the sea floor. To my right, there’s the magical mermaid barrier; it’s like a sheet of undulating glass that keeps the ocean in place. Once I’m closer to the bottom, I swim through that barrier, tumble through the air, and fall toward the soggy ground.

  Looking down, I realize that this move could kill me.

  A major dissolus nest sits directly on my landing spot. To human eyes, it would appear to be nothing more than a large boulder. But my angelic vision can see through the disguise. It’s actually thousands of dissolus eggs piled high, each one the size of a sesame seed. That’s a ton of demons hiding, right there. If I disturb them, they’ll expand to full size. I’ll be encased in acid.

  Turning, I jam my left arm into the clear wall of water beside me. The motion pulls my fall to one side. It’s barely enough to land me just outside the dissolus nest. Soggy ground sloshes as I hit the ocean floor. High above, a light mist pours over the edge of the water and into the pit below.

  Now, there’s nothing left to do but wait. Tough though it may be, it’s the only way for my plan to work. So I stand by the water wall. To pass the time, I flip charms through my fingers. The ones I grabbed are made to look like quarters. Yet as with all things Striga, if you look closely enough there are runes and writing. Magic.

  About twenty yards away, there sits the base of the Tower of Wonders. A large and open archway marks the entrance. The white stone exterior is pockmarked with barnacles. Bits of seaweed cling to its surface.

  Come on, Tithe. Take the bait.

  Sure enough, white stone bodies march out under the archway and cross the exposed ocean floor. The Tithe leads at the head of his army. I count at least five thousand warriors. I scan the faces, looking for Jali, Devak or Silvinio. None of the effigies look familiar. The stone warriors settle into neat rows that fan out from the tower’s base. The Tithe walks out before them all, pausing right before me. He’s changed into white Roman armor of the occasion. He’s even replaced his missing arm with a stone one.

  “Greetings, my little princeling,” says the Tithe. “I’ve good news for you. I’ve added new spells onto my effigies. You can’t strike them with metal or weaken them with fire. All my careful scouting of your skills has paid off. This is now an unbeatable army. With these soldiers, I shall invade Heaven itself and replace the Citadel with my own greatness.”

  “Listen to me carefully,” I announce. “Bring me Myla, whole and alive, or you will die. Painfully.”

  The Tithe grins, showing off a mouth of blackened teeth. “Attack him, everyone!”

  I match his smile with one of my own. Tossing my Striga coins onto the sea floor, I call out three words. “Consume the effigies.”

  And so it begins.

  46

  As a rule, I’ve a mind for details. Names. Faces. Statistics. All are accessible to me. Then come moments like this one, where my mind records even more information. Every last scintilla of this time becomes seared into my memory: The rows of white stone soldiers fanning out from the tower like petals on a daisy … The overcast night sky … Thin tendrils of mist curling down the edges of the water wall … And the Tithe, a dusty figure with a scraggy face and mismatched eyes, who leers at me triumphantly, all while a handful of purple coins tumble to the muddy ground.

  The charms hit the ocean floor and everything changes.

  Long arms of ice spread out from the impact point. Lines of prickly icicles jut up from the trails they make, reminding me of so many silver blades slicing up from the earth. The spell expands, encasing every effigy in a sheath of ice. They’re all captured in some state of attack as they race toward one spot.

  Me.

  Even the Tithe is trapped inside a shell of frozen water. Up close, I can see the smattering of salt atop of the slick surface. Nothing stops ice.

  Across the ocean floor, one figure moves. A spirit. My blood thumps harder in my veins.

  “Myla!”

  I race through the forest of icy figures, closing in on my girl. She’s hunched over in pain. Still a ghost, alive and fighting. My Myla.

  “I’m here,” I say. “Where are you?”

  “I see you,” says Myla. “You’re in my cell. But you keep walking away.” Tears stream down her face. “Why would you do that?”

  “It’s an illusion. Describe where you are.”

  “Dark room. Walls with writing. Coned roof. Small barred windows.”

  I scan the Tower of Wonders. There’s one spot that meets that description perfectly. “He’s got you in the peak of the tower. I’m coming. Do you hear me? What you saw; that’s not me. I’m on my way.”

  Myla’s teeth chatter as she curls forward. “Lincoln!”

  My girl disappears.

  Behind me, the statues start moving. I’d warn them to stop. As it is, they’ll only kill themselves faster if they try to race after me. But they won’t listen. And at this point? I’d like to see them all destroyed. It buys me time to get Myla.

  I rush into the tower. Inside, it’s a wide open interior, like a tall empty column reaching up to the sky above me. A corkscrew walkway lines the entire space. Basically, it’s long curling ramp with no railing which encircles the interior like a ribbon. Everywhere I look, the stone walls hold murals of more warriors. Their all-white eyes seem to pe
er out at me.

  Assessing.

  Scheming.

  Hungry.

  I pull another charm from my pocket. My last one. It’s a candy heart for speed. I bite down on the treat. Power pulses through my limbs. Fresh energy charges through every muscle in my body. I race up the winding walkway with one thought in mind.

  Myla’s at the stop of this place.

  Below me, the frozen effigies lurch into the tower. The coin charm will keep them in solid ice. But the more they move, the more the water surrounding them fights back. And living in a stone world, I’ve learned a few things over the years.

  Every stone has its imperfections.

  Water finds each crevice.

  And frozen water? It expands over time.

  With every move the effigies make, the deeper the water goes, and the more ice spreads throughout their stone bodies. Soon it will happen.

  Cold.

  Expansion.

  Explosion.

  It’s only a matter of time.

  As I race upwards, the effigies follow along. Even with my speed spell and their icy casings, they quickly close in on me. Glancing over my shoulder, I see them. Tall all-white figures dripping with frost and icicles, racing for me. Nearer.

  I must reach the top.

  The door to Myla’s cell is only yards away when a chilly hand grips my shoulder. More latch onto my ankles, pulling me down. I land on my back with a thud. A massive effigy looms above me. In life, this thrax stood seven feet tall and seems almost as wide, what with his heavy armor and wide shoulders. Icicles stick out of him from at every angle, the ends glinting and sharp.

  I writhe under the grip of my attackers. At least five effigies hold me down while a sixth gets ready to slice me in two. Just as the Tithe said, their faces are now carved with spells to protect them from fire and metal. I can’t use my old schemes against them any more.

  This can’t be how I end. So close to Myla and unable to save her. No, no, no.