by Kyle West
Something grabbed me from behind, pulling me from the ichor. The vision dissipated, and I heard voices talking around me. Dazed as I was, it felt as if they were coming from another world.
Finally, my eyes focused until I could see reality. The edges of my clothing were singed, and my skin reddened. I realized the truth then – when I had entered the ichor, I had walked into the fire itself. I had been pulled back before I could seriously injure myself. Even so, my skin was covered with burns; the pain was intense, though somewhat dampened by the deepness of my trance.
But the vision was gone, now, and so was the Tree on its island in the ichor sea. I had to find out why it was important, and how to destroy it. Both answers would have to wait for another day.
Chapter 33
I sat on the floor of the cave, watching the flames of the bonfire, which had shrunk to less than half of its former size. The dancing flames were calmer, now, as if a substantial amount of time had passed since I had stared into them. The images of the vision still swam before my eyes, while spots floated in front of me. I could hardly string two coherent thoughts together.
The Wilders watched me, while my friends knelt in a circle around me, talking in low voices. I couldn’t bring myself to focus on them. My mind was somewhere else. It was on Askalon. It was thinking of the Tree.
After some time – I wasn’t sure how long – I heard Shara speaking to me.
“What happened, Shanti? Did you find anything?” After no initial response, she said, “How do we defeat Odium?”
But the flames hadn’t revealed the answer to that question. Instead, they had shown me the beginning of an answer to an even larger question. How did we defeat the Radaskim in the ultimate sense? Sadly, things had cut off before I had the answer.
“She’s half in their world, half in ours,” the old man said. “She has witnessed a great prophecy, the likes of which never before seen.”
“How do you figure that, Elder?” Isaru asked.
The man came to kneel beside me, staring into the flames as well. “I watched with her, and sensed echoes of it. The full scope, however, would have broken my mind.”
“What did you see?” Fiona asked. “Would we even understand?”
The old man waited for a time, seeming to gather his thoughts. “I saw an ancient world devastated by the Aberration. I saw a great valley under the skin of the world, and a sea afire with ruby light. And I saw a white Tree – the great tree that’s the source of it all. Great power resided there . . . dark power.”
“It must be stopped,” I said, speaking for the first time. “It must be stopped.”
“What must be?” Shara asked. “The tree?”
“No,” the shaman said. “The Aberration that resides within it.”
“What is it, exactly?” Shara asked. “This . . . Aberration?”
I’d heard Flame use this same word, though there hadn’t been a chance to ask him to specify what he had meant. In fact, I hadn’t even thought to. It seemed very important.
Suddenly, the answer came to me in a burst of lucidity. “The Aberration was the rift. It was what caused Elekai and Radaskim to split. It was . . . a mutation. If it can be reversed . . .”
“It would join the two sides once more,” Fiona said. “Right?”
I nodded. “I think so.”
“What caused it?” Isa asked. “Where did it come from?”
That part was less clear. Did it come from within, or without? If we could learn the answer to that, we might have all we needed. But Askalon was lightyears away. There was no way we could ever get there to destroy this Tree, if indeed it was the source of the Aberration. It was a complete impossibility. I also wasn’t sure if what I was seeing existed in a different time period. I was sure the beginning of the vision, showing the lush world, had been in the distant past, while the barren, dead world had been either the present or the future. Of the paradise within Askalon itself, that had to still be there. If the Tree did not exist, then neither would the Radaskim.
I realized that the fight for Earth, as important as it was, was a small thing indeed compared to this Tree and the Aberration it housed. In the end, I realized, Tiamat was right. I was too focused on this world and winning battles here that would, in the end, do nothing but delay the inevitable. Ragnarok Crater needed protecting above all else. The Sea of Creation must be kept intact and unspoiled. It was the only strength we had to defend ourselves.
And who knew? Perhaps the Xenofold could be used to reach the Tree. If not physically, then with our minds. It was connected, after all, to the Xenomatrix, which connected all worlds the Radaskim had conquered, along with their Xenofolds. Could traveling there actually be possible?
But none of that mattered if we allowed Odium to reach Ragnarok Crater first. And for the moment, at least, we had more immediate concerns.
“The battle will be lost,” I said. “Just as Tiamat predicted. There’s nothing we can do to stop that.”
The others were still watching me, but I saw their expressions fall, one by one. But none of them look surprised.
“Did you see that in the fire?” Isa asked.
I shook my head. “No. But I know it all the same.”
I stood up, brushed myself off, and turned to face my friends. I kept my hold on Silence – the pain of my burns needed tending to, but there was nothing that could be done about it for now. “It still might not be too late. I will need all of you going forward. Our world is ending. It doesn’t matter if everyone bands together, or if Shen produces machines as fast as his factories can churn them out.” I looked into everyone’s eyes, one by one. “If the Crater goes down, that means no Xenofold. No Xenofold means a quick death for all of us.”
Everyone was quiet as they considered my words. The old man watched, too, his craggy face saying he understood it all.
“If you think defeat is so sure,” Fiona said, “then what do you suggest?”
“We have to save as many of our men as we can,” I said. “We need a distraction that will allow for a retreat. I would not have the Grand Canyon become a graveyard. If we lose it all here, there will be nothing to check Odium’s advance north.”
“That means abandoning Haven,” Fiona said, her voice tinged with disapproval.
“If the battle really will be lost,” Isaru said, his gray eyes growing distant. He refocused on me. “Do you know that beyond the shadow of a doubt?”
I nodded. “The question isn’t will we break. It’s how much time we have. Tiamat said as much. I . . . stubbornly refused to believe him. This vision, though . . . it’s allowed me to see the bigger picture. As strange as it may seem, we are one world among many. This . . . may be our last chance.” I turned to look at them all. “Our last chance to stop the Radaskim for good.”
Isaru nodded solemnly. Haven was his home, and it was like a second home for Fiona.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
He nodded. “I know what must be done. I can rest that many of its people have already left. But still, many will die, refusing to leave their homes.”
“I know,” I said. “And we won’t even be able to retreat unless we can distract Odium. Otherwise, it will be a slaughter.”
“How do we distract him, then?” Fiona asked. “If there was anything we could be doing, we’d be doing it already.”
“We’re going to have to risk ourselves again,” I said. “Not in open battle, but in attacking Odium’s mind. Without his coordination, his army is useless. He’s too powerful for us to overwhelm totally. The Xenofold doesn’t even have that much power. But, perhaps, we can force him to relent for a bit. A day, maybe, is all we would need to get a head start. Withdraw to Mongar, and decide what to do from there.”
Everyone was silent as they considered these words. Mongar was a good distance – about three hundred miles as the dragon flew. A trek there with low food and inclement weather could kill almost as many men as Odium.
“Can such a thing be done?” Fiona asked
. “Even trying to control the birds, it became too much. How much more difficult will it be to assault Odium’s mind directly?”
“I don’t know if it’s possible,” I said. “We just have to try.” I looked directly at everyone. “I know running is harder than fighting. As hard as it is to say, this is the way forward.”
“These are my people,” Fiona said. “As they are Isaru’s. Even if this is your decision, I’m still not entirely convinced. If we can’t hold them here, then where can we hold them?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know, Fiona.”
She nodded, pursing her lips as if restraining herself from saying something she might regret. “My people.” She looked at Isaru. “Your people. How many will we let die?”
“How many more will die if we fight to our last breath in that canyon?” Shara asked. “We made a mistake. A mistake that will cost thousands of lives. All of us own that mistake. But no matter how far we’ve gone down the wrong path, it’s never too late to turn back. How foolish it would be to continue fighting when Shanti knows, beyond a doubt, that it’s pointless. We need to keep our heads in the game. She’s right. We have to find a way to slow down Odium so we can make our next step.” Shara looked toward me. “What’s your idea, Shanti?”
Finally, everyone seemed to be on board, though neither Fiona nor Isaru looked happy about it. Not that I ever expected them to be.
“There’s a reversion here, in this cave, that we can use,” I said. “I . . . felt something open up during my vision.” I watched the others’ expressions of surprise. “It’s not just a source of ichor, now. It’s something powerful enough to challenge Odium with. Better yet, we’re far enough away that he won’t know it’s coming until it’s in his face.”
“This could really work, then?” Fiona asked.
“I don’t know,” I said. “I think it’s our best shot. We need to come at him directly, and with intensity, before he has the time to guard against it. Even so, this will likely be the hardest thing we’ve ever had to do. Harder even than the birds.”
“Just tell us what we need to do,” Fiona said.
I nodded. “We use the reversion here as a sort of focus, to amplify our bond. That’ll help us direct the power, even given the distance. It’ll be more power than he can handle, at least at first.” I looked around at the gathered Wilders, including the old man who was watching and listening quietly. “I’ll need your help, too. You and your people. Anyone strong enough to form a connection to the Xenofold needs to join us. I’ll lead the bond. All I need is the power you can supply.”
The old shaman nodded, his face grim. “This could be death for many of my people, if this goes awry.”
“I know that,” I said
“And knowing that, you would still risk us?”
I nodded. “If we don’t stop him here, none of you will make it. And neither will we. Of course, it’s voluntary. But even knowing the danger, to myself and others, we must stand as one.”
The shaman nodded, as if satisfied with that answer. “We will help you, Elekim. Every one of us.”
“How many of your people have manifested?”
“Among these? Twenty-two.”
It surprised me that he knew the exact number. That was about half of the Wilders standing here. Strong blood, indeed.
Them, together with us, would make for the strongest bond formed in living memory, if not since the beginning of the Xenofold, because for the first time, there would be someone powerful enough to hold it all together.
At least, I had to assume I was powerful enough. Failure wasn’t an option.
Chapter 34
The fire had burned low during our discussion. Something told me, though the shaman didn’t say it explicitly, that all of them were here for a single reason: because they knew I was coming. They didn’t come to this cave to seek shelter. They had come because the old man knew we would be here.
“The grove is this way,” the old man said, quietly.
He took the lead, and we followed. The cave was dark and bare of xen, so the only light came from torches placed along the walls at regular intervals. We weren’t walking far before we arrived at an ichor spring bubbling up from underground. The spring was smaller than most I had seen, but it looked deep. The bottom of it glowed brightly, the concentrated energy being the source of the opening to the Xenofold. The opening through which its power would pass through, unadulterated.
Reversions were wounds in the fabric of the Xenofold. The Xenofold was literally bleeding to give us the chance to push back at Odium. If this didn’t work, likely nothing else would.
We waited until everyone had filed in and had formed a circle around the pool. Some stood, some knelt, some sat on rocks. But all faces reflected the eerie, pinkish light of the ichor. The surface of the pool began to eddy, seeming to the sense the power of the gathering Elekai.
“Not yet,” I said. My voice sounded loud in the confines of the small grove. I spoke more softly. “We don’t want him to feel us coming.”
The words were translated for those who didn’t understand.
I drew a deep breath first, centering myself on Silence. I felt the power radiating out; my mind demanded for a connection, sensing the power beneath the surface. But instead, I stood there, deepening my focus, letting Silence become an all-encompassing barrier that would allow the raw energy of the Xenofold to pass through without destroying me in the process. If I let that concentration slip, even for a moment, I would be lost in the torrent, my mind and nerves fried beyond recognition.
I swallowed, knowing that this was what I had to do.
I reached toward the reversion and found an easy connection. I felt its pulsing, and even angry, energy. It was ready to attack, and it seemed to be ready to do so at any cost.
Perhaps even at the cost of my own life. That hatred, I realized, was directed at Odium. For the first time, the Xenofold would get its chance to strike back.
I sunk into Silence further, retreating more and more into myself, providing more of a shield. I felt the anger of that energy. It pushed against me, as if testing my defenses. Had I not been ready for that, it would have completely washed me away.
I waited, fortifying myself, until I was as prepared as I was ever going to be. The longer I waited, the more forceful the Xenofold would become.
I nodded, the signal for everyone to join in the bond. One by one, I felt everyone add their strength to mine. First were my friends, each of their souls seeming to meld with my own, deepening the bond, until their thoughts were mine, and mine was theirs. Such closeness was uncomfortable, but an unavoidable part of forming a bond. I felt Fiona’s sorrow, her feeling of failure for protecting her people. I felt Isa’s blooming love for Isaru, and Isaru’s love for her returning in kind, but also their fear of what that love might mean, given the way the world was going. I felt Shara’s own anxiety for the future, and something clouded beneath all that, that not even my own intuition could penetrate. A vestige of her Hunter past, perhaps? The old man, whose name I finally knew, Dain, added his power to mine, and I could see his entire history, his loves and failures, his tragedies and triumphs, his sins and glories. And I felt that for every member of his tribe that joined in the bond. I pushed back the chaos of thoughts and emotions, growing stronger each passing moment. All of it joined the stream, still dammed by the power of the bond. The pressure was growing to the point of being overwhelmed.
Not yet, I thought. Don’t let it go yet.
I was feeling a power that went far beyond anything I’d ever experienced. It felt as if I could lift the world, and even knowing that impossibility, I felt daring enough to try.
I knew that no one had ever controlled this much of the Xenofold’s conscious energy; not even a tenth of this power.
It’s all for you, Odium, I thought. At the mere suggestion, the Xenofold roiled, like a whip about to crack.
I had to find him, before it slipped away from me. I expanded my awareness southward,
where every Elekai was immersed in the battle. I felt their fear, their violence, their struggles – and even their deaths. Shocks of pain wracked my body. I felt hundreds of lives unfolding, hundreds of lives ending.
Southward my consciousness flew, until it ranged high above the Xenoplain south of Haven, above an endless sea of crawlers under a night sky full of swarming black dragons. I could see them all, despite the darkness – all but the one I was looking for.
But the Xenofold was desperate to cause him hurt, and it directed me until I became aware of him. And he was not yet aware of me. He was in the back of the swarm, flying high above, carefully surveying the surrounding terrain, apparently leaving nothing to chance. But that caution would not save him.
Odium looked about, as if he knew something were amiss. There was not much time left. The Xenofold was pushing with everything it had, about to give the game away.
Ready yourselves, I thought.
Odium’s eyes went right to mine. I felt the moment of his shock, and in that fraction of a second was my opening.
I let the Xenofold go.
It roared past me with the force of an exploding sun, all that energy surging across the plain, finding Odium’s own mind in a fraction of a second. It slipped right through as his defenses began to rise, and it shattered them as a crumbling mountain might shatter the surface of a frozen lake. The Xenofold overwhelmed him, striking within the synapses of his consciousness, the energy pouring in an unyielding wave.
His scream was terrible, and unrelenting. He pushed back, and the Xenofold was forced to retreat, as a hand would from a flame. At once, I dropped the bond, before the backlash could destroy us. Still inside his mind, I felt his shock, confusion, and fury. I wouldn’t be able to remain here for long. There would only be one chance to do this.
Doing this was extremely risky; if he found me, he could destroy me in an instant. He knew I was inside his mind, but such was his confusion that he couldn’t find me. But it was only a matter time.