24
Water lapping at my bare feet, stirring me awake. The gentle breeze reminded me of beaches I’d never visited. There was no training necessary for paradise—so Pearl and I had never gone. Always transient, from one job to the next.
Two hundred years of wandering, without a postcard to show for it.
I shivered, pulling my feet from the stream. I felt a sudden change—a little weariness setting into my heels that the river had soothed. I heard Roark say, “Too cold?”
“It’s not that.” I rubbed my temples, feeling the pulsating veins. Mud caked my forearms and jeans, and my palm throbbed. “What happened?”
“You passed out.” Roark knelt next to me on the sand, blue eyes filled with concern. “Drink the water.”
I pressed my fists against the sand, struggling to sit up. “I’m really okay.”
“Don’t be a martyr.”
“I’ll be fine.” I reached for the shotgun, stomach turning over when I found my back holster empty. Then I saw it lying on the grass, safely away from the sand. A small wave of relief washed over my tired body.
The watch dug into my wrist. I undid the strap and let it slip into the sand.
“You’re not fine,” Roark said. “Drink. It’ll help.”
“We need to get moving.”
“Don’t be stubborn, Ruby.”
“I don’t know what’s in that damn water.” I glared at the perfect stream, so clear that I could see straight to the bottom. I rolled over, shifting to remove the map from my pocket. After struggling for a moment, I managed to free the muddy piece of parchment.
I handed it to Roark, who said, “What do you want me to do with this.”
“Just check…to make sure I didn’t make any mistakes.”
He grabbed the map, his lean muscles tensed at just the right points, the shadows from the trees cutting across his body like a sculpture. Good thing he wasn’t a telepath. I’d met one before.
If he knew what I was thinking, I’d be embarrassed. Given the circumstances, it seemed less than appropriate. But when did life ever slow down enough for the time to be right?
Roark shook out the muddy map, now slightly frayed at the edges.
“It says nothing about the Tributary.” Roark cocked his head at the perfect sky, surveying the Realm. “I don’t think anyone’s been here for a long time.”
“So we’re on our own.”
“Looks that way,” Roark said. “Unless Odessa has plans.”
“I’m sure she does.” I tried to swallow, but my throat was dry.
It was then that I noticed something eerie: there were no sounds of life anywhere. Plenty of trees and flowers, all growing from beautiful grass softer than a mattress. A pastoral scene that would put the most beautiful places on Earth to shame.
But there were no creatures. No squirrels chattering in the branches, no birds soaring through the aquamarine sky. Not even a fish jackknifing its way through the cool stream.
Reading my expression, Roark said, “What?”
“There’s nothing here.”
He glanced around, taking it in. “I guess it’s like Martin said.”
“How do you figure?”
“All the gods left. Must’ve taken all the creatures with them.” Roark peered at the trees. “Or maybe they all died without the gods here.”
Roark held the worn map out, allowing the breeze to snatch it away. The parchment landed in the stream and disappeared below the placid surface. Loosening my stiff shoulders, I took stock of my remaining supplies.
“Can you please drink the water?”
“Tell you what.” A plan formed in my mind. Enough rest and quiet time on the beach. We needed to reach this water’s source. “I’ll take a bath and then we’ll get moving.”
“You’re not in good shape. We should stay here.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I said, emptying my pockets as I ignored his concerns.
Four MagiTekk shells in the shotgun, plus five of Martin’s mystery rounds in my jacket. Harcourt’s original enchanted note. Malcolm Roark’s threatening message. Pearl’s handwritten scrawl from beyond. The dead phone. The Realmpiece.
And the lightning blade.
With the sun blazing ahead, I removed the leather jacket, tossing it in the sand. I crumpled up the notes and jammed them in the pockets. No use for them any more. The phone was caked in marsh slime and much. Probably useless.
It got relegated to the trash heap.
We’d be traveling light.
I took a final look at the stuff, then gathered it in my arms and threw it into the stream.
“Hey,” Roark said. “That jacket was a gift.”
“You should’ve seen the gift I had planned for you last night,” I said. I unbuttoned the muddy shirt, smelling the decay from the catacombs lurking beneath the fresh scent of the Tributary.
Then I wiggled out of the jeans.
“Oh yeah?” I could feel Roark’s gaze on me. The faint wisps turned a passionate shade of red around his head.
“Yeah.” I gave him a seductive wink and then rolled my eyes. “Too bad you’ll never know.”
“No second chances?” Roark’s blue eyes were doleful and wide, his handsome jaw set in an expression of faux-sadness.
I glanced around the beach. “Where’d you put my boots?”
He blinked twice. Probably the only time a woman had resisted the charm—not that he ever used it, really, except for official FBI business. Seemed like a waste to cultivate such an easy charisma, only to lock yourself in your office. But that was the problem with obsession: it darkened the edges of the world, cloaking you in shadow.
“Well?” I asked, standing there in my underwear.
“Uh, on the grass. I washed the mud off.” He looked flustered and went to retrieve them. I stood with my hands on my hips as he handed the boots to me without comment. The stream merrily trickled by, ignorant of human affairs.
Clothes in hand, I headed to the edge of the stream and dunked them in the water. Brown ripples swirled in the stream as the grime floated away. After I was done, I brushed the sand slowly off my ass.
Just so he knew what he was missing.
I held out the clothes behind me, not looking back. “Hang these up.”
Roark cleared his throat and coughed slightly, but honored my request. I slipped into the stream and stripped naked. Dipping below the surface so that only my head was visible, I watched him return to the shoreline.
He rubbed the stubble on his jaw as I scrubbed at my dirty arms. The water did have a restorative effect, like a nice massage. We stared at each other silently for a long time. Finally, with a spare moment to talk, we had nothing to say.
Finally, I said, “See what you missed?”
Roark took an extra beat to answer. “I can’t see much.”
I stuck my tongue out. “Good.”
He sighed, leaning back into the sand. “You know, it’s funny.”
“I didn’t find last night funny.”
“You get so close to getting what you always wanted,” Roark said. “And then you shoot yourself in the foot.”
“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 walk
ed toward him. His eyes got a little wider, but I past 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 flecked 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.
Blood River (The Ruby Callaway Trilogy Book 3) Page 11