by Ben Hale
Quad issued a grunt of irritation. "Stand still."
Iris released a sigh and relented. After a moment, she said, "I can't believe he killed Jack."
"Varson hated him," Quad replied. "I think it was only a matter of time until they fought. I'm more surprised that Tess's parents killed him."
Iris shook her head. "I've learned not to doubt them."
Quad fell silent, but after a moment he murmured. "Are we going to get out of this?" When Iris didn't respond, he pressed, "Our ability to communicate with our army is destroyed, half our officers are dead, and our commander was killed. By all accounts we've already lost."
Iris's lips tightened. "Jack's final act was of courage. I'm not going to betray his memory right after he dies."
"But what can we do?" Quad asked.
Iris felt a pull from one of her threads and perked up. "Riley, can you see them yet . . ."
Her eyes widened at the image, and she gestured to the only surviving techno wall in the room. Abruptly Riley's memory thread filled the screen. Wrapped in the despair of the recent conflict, the survivors in the room did not notice it. Then the sound cut in.
The boom shook the chamber and rattled the shards of broken magic on the floor. Men and women turned to the image, and watched the mighty cyclone drive a massive white drill into the Earth. The tiny figures of Siarra and Tess rolled away as the huge projectile slammed into the earth, causing the ground to ripple for miles.
Drawn to the screen, Iris's heartbeat began to accelerate as nothing happened. Then suddenly the ground trembled. A moment later it shook. Then it heaved. With each subsequent quake the ground reacted with ever increasing violence . . .
—The explosion rent the very horizon, incinerating thousands of miles of Earth in a titanic blast. Fire and dirt pierced the clouds and streaked outward. Then the shockwave hit the viewer and the entire image shook.
Iris tore her eyes from the screen when she realized the rumbling of thunder was not just coming from the thread. Out the window a massive surge of wind blew past the city, momentarily nudging Auroraq north.
Iris looked back to the screen in time to the see the blast of superheated steam rise with the smoke. Vaporized at the supreme temperature, the plume of steam did not abate. Bound by the natural barricade, the Dark had been caged.
"What did she do?" someone breathed.
"The oracle closed the entire southern flank," Gerik responded in awe.
A smile pulled at Iris's mouth, and it quickly grew. If her best friend could do that, they could hold the line. She was not surprised to see the same affect on the others around her. Men and women straightened, their eyes filling with hope once more. The oracle fought for them, and she had given them a chance.
Iris's mind buzzed with ideas, and she linked to every thread that had survived the assault. As she did a part of her mind overheard High Chancellor Gerik and the president in a tense discussion. From the gist she understood they were trying to decide who would replace Jack.
Stupid.
With so much damaged, no one would be able to connect to the distinct branches of the Earth Army in time. No magic could link the threads fast enough. The only way to link them in time would be to cast a gralisian charm and connect every thread to a single mind . . .
Understanding filled her and her heart sank. The gralisian charm was meant to connect one's mind directly to the threads, magnifying their thoughts until they became the network. To connect with the entire army would require every one of her army to cast it—and then one of them to be the hub.
"Are you alright?" Quad whispered in her ear. "I've never seen you so tense."
"Fine," she responded. "I'm just going to regret this."
She let out a long breath, and then sent the message to her techno army. All teams, prepare a gralisian charm. The replies bombarded her with immediate concern.
But that's a level twenty-eight charm—
And only Keidon could do it—
Are you sure you can—
It's too risky!
The replies came faster and faster, until her anger cut them apart. "We don't have time for this," she snapped. "Get it done. It's the only way we can connect to all of them. Laz them to me and brace yourselves."
But connecting to so many will kill you! Uri shouted.
The others raised their voices in protest but Iris ignored them. Drawing a breath to steady herself, she stepped from Quad, but he caught her arm.
"What are you doing, Iris?"
"What I have to," Iris said, and pulled her arm free.
She strode to the center of the map and then called on her magic. The threads in the room brightened into the visible spectrum and coursed toward her form. At her will they fused together and wrapped around her in a lazy tornado. The surge of power caused everyone in the vicinity to retreat as her skin began to glow.
"Whatever happens," Iris said, "don't touch me." Then speaking became difficult.
The threads of magic bombarded her mind, demanding her attention. Gritting her teeth, she allowed them to link directly to her consciousness—and her awareness exploded outward. The monitoring motes in the Spirus had now become her eyes and ears, allowing her to see every person and hear every sound.
But it did not end there.
One by one she linked to hundreds of other techno mages and her awareness sped through their networks, stretching her mind until she could feel every remaining thread on Earth. Her skull throbbed as her consciousness struggled to retain the volume of information. Empowered by the tremendous support of her techno friends, she cast workaround charms to overcome any damaged threads. She did not stop until she could feel the entire army.
Dimly she was aware that those around her had begun to shout, but it was like a mouse squeaking in the background. Her mind was now lazed to hundreds of techno mages and millions of radios, phones, and other signals. It took all her effort to speak in a single voice.
"The communication is repaired. Initiating orders now . . ."
Her mental voice reverberated through the chamber a thousand compressed echoes. After a moment, the president stepped forward. Iris saw it through the surviving motes in the room. Everything from a loose thread on his suit to the creases in his skin were abundantly obvious, as well as the soldier whispering into his ear.
"She's taken control of every signal we have," the soldier said, his voice rising in panic.
"Iris," the president drawled, "What are you doing?"
"Sorry Jacob," she replied, her voice thrumming as threads in the room reverberated with her. "The Dark is an hour from the eastern side of the Stacks. We don't have time for you to find a replacement."
"I don't recall placing you in charge," he said.
"I already am," Iris replied. "And until this kills me I'm your best shot."
"You don't know how to be a general," Lefevre shouted.
"Of course I don't," Iris replied, drawing a startled gasp from the generals in the room. "But I know what Jack would do. I watched him every step of the way. When I burn out you are welcome to try something else."
The surviving generals crowded around Gerik and the president, their voices angry. Gerik stared at Iris, and she watched his eyes from a dozen angles. Ultimately he came to the conclusion that she knew he would. He had no choice.
"She's right," Gerik yelled. "If her mind is controlling all the threads, it's the best chance we have."
"Let's make the next few hours count," the president said with a curt nod. "Iris, what do you need?"
"Silence," she replied.
The president turned to the other generals and issued crisp orders for them to return to their stations. With her mind buzzing with unbridled power, Iris heard one more voice speak her name.
"How could you do this," Quad groaned under his breath.
It was obviously not meant to be heard, but she picked up on it anyway. Flicking a thread to his mind, she spoke into it.
I'm sorry, Quad. I wish we could hav
e gotten more time together. I would have liked to feel what a kiss was like . . .
Quad blinked, his eyes widening with sudden understanding. She'd never kissed him—not because she didn't want to—but because she was afraid to. Regret flashed across his expression, too painful for her to witness in such magnified detail. She gave herself over to her magic, and his voice faded into the background.
Then she focused on the line of Twisted dragging the Dark forward. Visible through the millions of auren cameras, mage monitoring motes, and the memory threads from her army, she witnessed the impending assault in its entirety.
The images bombarded her mind and courage in a tidal wave of doubt. She struck back with her confidence in Tess and began to issue orders. The words left her mind as fast as she could think them, and the combat units leapt into action.
Because of Keidon's attack on the network, the combat units were in disarray. The Dark had dispatched millions of Twisted ahead of the eastern cloud. Realizing her army wouldn't make it to the Stacks, Iris ordered them to turn and form a line. The ones already at the Stacks she ordered to fill the inevitable holes.
Tanks mobilized, their great cannons spitting fire as Twisted appeared in the distance. Soldiers opened fire with magic and machinery, their weapons tearing into the Twisted. Now leashed to her will, the Halo of Dawn began to fire. Like they were her hands and feet, each of the millions of people and machines reacted to her thoughts.
With the east forming up, Iris turned her mind to the west. Their losses had been extreme, but most had made it to the Stacks. She spread them out, and then ordered several of the straggling units to get to Oakridge. Due to its placement in the mountains, the secret mage village would hold out longer against the Dark.
The magic taxed her mind and body to the extreme, and she felt a buzzing flicker at the back of her awareness. The human mind was not meant to see so much, and it was only a matter of time before hers simply stopped functioning. Until then she would give her friend all the time she could.
Standing in a vortex of threads and churning magic, she sifted through the information sub-charms. Analyzed from the mountain of information, the enemy's plan came together. With so many resources at her touch, she crafted a counter-strategy in seconds, and sent the orders to the teams.
One of her charms came back after connecting with Jack's discarded omni-glasses. Finding a memory thread in them, she realized what Breaker and General Branson had been ordered to do. Re-tasking a satellite, she issued a hundred orders as she waited impatiently. When it was in position she looked through the eyes of the satellite and felt a stab of fear. Then she sought to warn them. To her dismay she discovered all threads to the group had been severed.
Even the one to Rox.
Chapter 37: Heart of Stone
"How much time will we have?" Breaker asked.
General Branson looked up from the device. "Five minutes to escape the blast radius."
Breaker accepted the report and his gaze flicked to the horizon. Even with twenty miles separating them from the eastern wall of Dark, it rose higher than the mountains that surrounded Yellowstone National Park. Breaker's jaw tightened as he thought of Jack.
They hadn't heard from the command center in over an hour. Without any other direction, he'd carried forward with the last orders he'd received. The absence of communication caused his worry to mount, forcing him to consider the tactic.
The western losses had forced Jack to reassign the units in Wyoming to reinforce other areas. The gaping hole in their defenses had been an invitation—and a trap. As the army had retreated to the Stacks, Breaker and a small force had remained behind to trigger the failsafe.
A squad of Army Rangers surrounded their position. Their fatigues were blood-spattered and numerous wounds marked their skin, but they had volunteered for this operation. Breaker had hand-picked his own team as well. Among them, Rox and Shorn were posted on the western side of the circle.
Rox's eyes connected with Breaker’s, and her look of anger could not be ignored. They both knew he'd pulled her from the front line to keep her safe, but he didn't care. The battle was coming to an end, and Breaker would do anything to keep her alive.
"One more minute," Captain Jeffreys said.
Breaker nodded, and strode to his lieutenant. "Any sign of intrusion?"
Lieutenant Barrows shook his head as he continued to rotate in a slow circle. "I sense nothing abnormal in the trees. I've got a wolf pack coming from the west, but it looks like they are just fleeing the cloud."
"Don't stop checking," Breaker said, and returned to General Branson.
"Are you sure your team modified this device properly?" the General murmured to him. "A three megaton tactical nuke is not something to be meddled with."
"They know what they’re doing," Breaker said. "When it goes off, it will wake this slumbering volcano. Miles of magma will stop the Twisted better than we can."
"I'm more worried about an eruption," General Branson said. "This super volcano is only a few hundred miles from the Stacks. If it becomes a full eruption, there won't be any of us left."
"You can trust my team," Breaker said.
"We're ready, sir," Captain Jeffreys said, and opened the case. "We just need your handprint and the timer will start. As you requested, we've removed any chance of disabling the device."
General Branson nodded, and strode toward the bomb. "Let's get this over with—"
The bullet struck him in the knee. Crying out, he went down as other shots rang out. Breaker spun to the source, and watched as a trio of the Rangers fired on their own team. He raised a wall of stone just in time. Sparks scattered across its surface. Then he saw their faces. Horror twisted their features as they strained to fight an invisible force . . .
Ducalik.
He lunged for the triggering mechanism and swung it toward Branson. Just as he was about to release, his fingers froze, causing it to fall to the dirt. Breaker fought to open his mouth, but it felt welded shut. His warning went unvoiced, and soon the gunfire tapered off. Most of the soldiers and mages lay dead, and the remainder were forced to walk into the clearing.
Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Ducalik ride into view astride a Twisted wolf. The beast had grown to the size of a tiger, as had the quartet flanking it. They glided into a perimeter, surrounding the group. Ducalik dismounted and strode to Breaker.
"You are a stubborn one—"
His mouth locked open as his eyes flicked past Breaker. His hand shot out—too slow. A loud beep indicated the device had been activated. Breaker would have smiled if he could. Branson had dragged himself the distance and activated the trigger.
Rage contorted Ducalik's features, and he forced everyone to turn and look at Branson. The general was clutching the wound in his upper leg, but the pressure did little to stop the blood flow.
Ducalik stalked to him and knelt. "You will disarm the device."
"You can control my body," Branson said, his voice strong despite the color draining from his face. "Why don't you do it yourself?"
"No man can control the mind of another," Ducalik said. Standing, he turned to the remaining Rangers and motioned them forward. Against their will, they pointed their guns at their commanding officer. "You will disarm it, or your men will kill you with your vile weapons."
One of them fired, and the round penetrated Branson's shoulder. Bound by Ducalik's power, Branson could only cry out. Pain filled his expression, and he forced the words out through clenched teeth.
"I need my hand to do as you ask."
Ducalik gestured to him, and Branson's free hand twitched. His hand was surprisingly steady as he yanked his pistol free and pointed it at his own head. Before Ducalik could react the gun fired, and Branson went limp.
Ducalik sighed in annoyance, and his gaze fell on Breaker. "Let's try a different tactic, shall we?" He motioned out of Breaker's view and two figures were forced to walk to his side. Sweat beaded Shorn's features as he fought to contro
l his own body, and Rox's eyes were full of defiance.
"I may not be able to control a mind," Ducalik said in a sinister voice, "but I can see what it thinks. It appears you have brought your daughter and the man she loves."
Caged by his magic, Breaker screamed and roared. His flesh trembled from the effort to break free. No sound escaped his lips, but Ducalik heard his thoughts. His smile implied pain, and Shorn's hand rose toward Rox. Tears leaked down his face as he realized what Ducalik was about to do.
"Let's see how much gravity it takes to crush your daughter, shall we?" Ducalik said.
Rox slumped to the ground, her eyes clenching tight as Shorn's magic slowly squeezed her. Supreme rage filled Breaker, and he surged against his bonds. His hand lifted a fraction, forcing Ducalik to turn on him.
"Such power." He issued a dark laugh. "Yet so helpless. Disarm the device, or watch your daughter die in front of you."
Breaker's vision filled with black, but then he noticed the look in Shorn's eyes. Instead of defeat or anger, there was a monumental resolve to cast a spell without moving. Ducalik must have sensed what was coming, because he whirled to him and raised his hands.
"You think you can harm me?"
Shorn's gravity blade struck his own arm, severing it at the elbow. The spell crushing Rox dissipated and relief flooded her frame. Ducalik stepped forward and struck Shorn in the face. His head rocked back, and the skin on his cheek split. Shorn's eyes conveyed only triumph as the blood dripped onto his uniform.
"Your flesh is mine!" Ducalik roared. "You will obey my will. If I want you to kill, you will kill. If I want you to die, you will die. There is no man on this world that can defy my might. I am the Master of Flesh, and the very Dark obeys me!"
His voice rose into a shriek, and he struck Shorn again and again. Shorn's eye began to swell, but the look of triumph did not fade. The defiance served to goad Ducalik to greater violence, and he unleashed his rage onto him. Then another voice spoke . . .
"Not all flesh obeys you," Breaker said.
Ducalik froze, and the wolves issued a low snarl. He whirled to face Breaker, and his eyes widened. Step by step, Breaker advanced toward him. Ducalik raised his hands to stop Breaker, but Breaker did not stop. Each step of his halting advance spurred Ducalik to greater effort, but his magic had lost its hold on Breaker's body.