by Jak Koke
At first, Lucero thought she was hallucinating. The mean cold deepened for a moment, and it felt as if she were suffocating, then something moved at the corner of her vision. She turned her head, just in time to see one of the corpses, a brown-haired girl, stagger to her feet.
The girl's head toppled to the side and stayed that way, the half-moon wound on her throat gaping like a hangman's leer. Then Lucero became aware of movement all around her as the dead came to life and pushed themselves to their feet.
With a quick movement, Oscuro lifted the sacrificial dagger from the altar, and raised it. With two deft slashes, he cut diagonal wounds along his upper left forearm. Then he transferred the knife to his opposite hand, and repeated the process on the right forearm.
No blood flowed from those wounds. Oscuro began chanting in a tongue Lucero couldn't understand, but that hurt her ears.
Several of the zombie-corpses around her began to transform. They doubled over in pain as huge sharp bristles of spiny black hair pierced out of their skin. Their legs and arms changed into furry tentacles, multiplying until there were four on either side of their now-hideous bodies. Their heads flattened, and massive insect mandibles jutted with a gooey crunch sound from the base of their jaws as their eyes split and divided. That was all Lucero had time to see, because at that moment, she was slammed with the full force of the evil across the Chasm. It was a raver's madness, a lunatic's cruelty, a rapist's glee at the subjugation of all it surveyed.
I'm sorry. I'm sor- As Lucero's consciousness faded, the knowledge that her sins had allowed this to happen struck her with desperate force. The hollow, cadaver sound of Oscuro's laughter echoed around her as his new forces made a slow advance toward the light.
Lucero knew it was only a matter of time before the song was silenced. The light quenched.
And like herself, the beauty turned to ugliness.
Abomination.
39
On the floor of the arboretum, Ryan straddled the cyborg body covered in gore, feeling as if time stood still as Burnout's cold metal fingers squeezed down on his throat. Blackness crept in like ink on the periphery of Ryan's vision as the power of the Dragon Heart surged through him.
Suddenly, Ryan felt Lethe bring his influence to bear, pushing against Ryan's hold on the Dragon Heart.
Ryan knew Lethe wasn't able to use all of his magical strength, because Ryan would never have been able to resist the spirit's full force.
Lethe, why are you doing this? I thought you wanted to help.
"Help you to attain the Dragon Heart so you could keep it for your own? I would much rather this man of wretched metal have the Heart. At least he can be reasoned with, at least he is honorable."
Ryan struggled to understand what Lethe was saying. Then he understood. Lethe, I know what you 're thinking, but you're wrong.
"Am I?" The deep voice was grave. "Even now, I can sense your desire for the Dragon Heart."
Yes, I have a desire for the Heart; its power is seductive, and any man could justify that desire by saying how much good he could accomplish with it. But if you can sense that desire in me, then you've got to be able to sense the fact that I will not keep the Heart for my own.
There was a short pause, and Ryan became aware of Burnout's grasp on his throat, of the cyberzombie's slow-motion movement to bring the Manhunter on target.
"Even though I sense what you say is true, why should I surrender this man, who for the small price of your death, will put forth his entire effort into helping me transport the Dragon Heart to Thayla? You, on the other hand, might still succumb to your own base desires."
Ryan grew desperate. The barrel of the Manhunter was swinging toward his chest, as if in slow motion, targeting the spot where his armor had already been damaged.
Lethe, there is more. Things you don't know. Listen to the truth in my mind. There are only two people on this planet who have the knowledge and the trustworthiness to carry the Dragon Heart across to the astral plane. Two mages specified by Dunkelzahn. Neither of them would have anything to do with Burnout. Everything we are fighting for will have been for nothing.
In that moment, the odds were put on the scales, the risks were calculated. Ryan could sense the spirit's thoughts turning as Lethe made his decision.
"You have still not convinced me that you are devoted to taking the Dragon Heart to Thayla," came Lethe's reply. "I will honor my agreement with Burnout."
Ryan couldn't breathe, and he felt the power of the Dragon Heart fading with the last of his strength. Tiny splotches of black touched his vision, like droplets of dark oil on his eyes. I'm going down.
Burnout targeted the Manhunter, his finger poised on the trigger. But he didn't fire. "I have detected the rise in oxygen," he said. "Any spark would blow this whole room. I think I'll move outside before I riddle your flesh with bullets."
Into Ryan's mind came Dunkelzahn's voice. A follower of the Silent Way uses the terrain to his advantage, Ryan-thusar. Uses all his assets in a fight, even those that seem to be lost.
Grind's voice came dimly, as if from a great distance, yelling, "Get off him, Ryan! I've got the shot! Get clear!"
"Negative, Dhin," came Jane's voice. "At his current position, Quicksilver is not covered by sprinklers. Even if you don't hit him with the sniper gun, he'll buy it in the explosion."
Ryan felt the zen of the Silent Way creep over him as he centered himself. It had been too long since he had felt this way, ever since Roxborough had taken control. Now, as he focused, his spirit meshed with his body in perfect synchrony. And he knew what to do.
Ryan closed his hands over the Dragon Heart, hanging from Burnout's waist in its cloth sling. He brought all of his strength to bear, making sure that his grip was iron-tight.
Then he concentrated and used his telekinetic magic. Ryan nudged Burnout's trigger finger with a focused magic push.
The Manhunter roared, and Ryan could see the muzzle flash just as he heard the distant sound of Grind's heavy-caliber sniper rifle.
Ryan felt the Manhunter bullet blow through his armor and throw him back, knocking the breath from his chest.
Then everything turned the nightmare orange color of Hell. The exposed flesh of his face and hands began to sizzle and cook as he flew through the air. The pain was too great, the force too strong.
Ryan lost his grip on the Dragon Heart.
The skin of Ryan's eyelids split and began to bleed as he closed them against the roaring wall of flame that engulfed him.
His blistering ears could hear the sound of glass shattering above him as the roof blew outward.
Ryan drew on every reserve of strength he possessed, and focused to hold his flesh together.
And he heard the sound of something heavy, something metal, hit the floor just beside him, and he knew it was Burnout.
Something pushed Ryan violently across the room and into the soothing cool of the sprinklers. Jets of cold water, which at first simply turned to steam, finally fought their way through the fire on Ryan's skin to gently caress his wounds and soothe them.
Then it was all over.
Ryan opened his eyes, which were covered with a film of red, making the purgatory scene in front of him even more lurid. Am I still alive?
The small pockets of flame that still remained were hissing and smoking under the constant spray of water.
As Ryan rolled slowly, trying to get to his feet, he could feel the huge blisters on his cheeks break open on the blackened marble floor.
Across the room lay the motionless, charred body of Burnout like some child's fallen nightmare, a huge hole in his chest from the sniper round.
"You have won, Ryan Mercury." Lethe's voice was weak, distant.
You saved me? That push into the water spray was you?
"I saw your willingness to sacrifice yourself. I see the truth that you have changed."
Thank you, Lethe.
"Just fulfill your promise. Take the Dragon Heart to Thayla."
I will. But I could use your help.
"I have used up the last of my strength."
What do you mean?
"Ryan Mercury, we all make mistakes, and we all pay for them. When this fragile mortal coil dies, I will die with it."
Don't die, Lethe. You have to help me take the Dragon Heart to Thayla.
No response.
Lethe?
There was a crash behind Ryan, and Secret Service agents stormed into the room, weapons ready. Grind followed a minute later and rushed up to Ryan's side. The dwarf took one look at Ryan and spoke into the air. "Jane, get that Doc Wagon crew in here pronto. Quicksilver's so fragged up I'm not sure why he's still alive."
The only answer Ryan could hear on his melted earphones was distant static.
"Ryan?" The voice came from behind him.
Floating into his vision came Nadja. She was sopping wet, her ruined gown clinging to her. Her black hair was plastered to her soot-smudged face. Standing there, like some war zone survivor, Ryan thought she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.
40
In the swirling darkness of the interface between Burnout's meat body and his cyber, Lethe found the silver cord-the trail Burnout's soul left as it struggled to find an exit from the magic that held it trapped. The cord draped downward into Burnout's inner darkness.
Without hesitating, Lethe plunged into the blackness, following the cord as fast as he could.
It didn't take him long to find Burnout's essence.
To Lethe, it looked like a small human boy, with skin of liquid silver that shimmered as the boy trudged slowly downward.
"Burnout?"
The boy did not run, did not slow his descent.
"Burnout?" Lethe said, again.
The boy turned slowly and looked at Lethe with dull, tired eyes. Eyes that spoke of a weariness no child should have to suffer. "There is no Burnout here. He is dead. I am all that is left. Now leave me alone."
Lethe moved closer. "If you are not Burnout, then who are you?"
The boy turned away, but called over his shoulder, "My friends call me Billy. Billy Madson."
Lethe continued to follow him. "Where are you going, Billy?"
"Go away. I'm going to rest. I'm so tired."
Lethe thought about it for a moment. There had to be something that would draw Burnout's soul back to his metal body, something this young boy would find enticing.
Then it came to him.
"Billy, you want to see a magic place?"
The small figure stopped. Turned. For a moment, Lethe could see the excitement behind the exhaustion in the boy's eyes. Then a look of suspicion crossed the young face. "What magic place?"
Lethe came up close. "There is a place in the meta-planes, a spike of mana. There's so much magic there that it fills your whole spirit."
Billy's eyes narrowed. "I've heard of that place. A lot of people died there. What's the magic in dying? I mean, if you're dead, how're you going to enjoy it?"
Lethe laughed. "Billy, I can show you a side to that place that very few people ever get to see."
"Oh, yeah?"
"Look." Lethe formed an image of Thayla in his mind. He drew from his memory of her song, of the sheer perfection of her beautiful magic. He showed Billy the power of the white light that radiated from her.
The small boy drew breath as the vision took him.
After a minute, the vision faded.
The boy looked up at Lethe. "You've been to this place?"
Lethe nodded.
"And this is a real place, not just something you made up?"
Again, Lethe nodded.
"It's wonderful."
Lethe laughed. "Yes, it is. Would you like to see it?"
A small fire seemed to light behind the weary eyes. "You could take me there?"
"We can only go together. You have to come back with me, back the way you came."
The small boy looked upward, his eyes trailing the silver cord that stretched out of sight into the darkness overhead. Then he looked downward, in the direction he'd been heading, and such longing filled the boy's eyes that it made Lethe's heart hurt.
"But I'm so tired," said Billy, in a tiny, child's whisper.
"I know you are, Billy. But this place is worth it. I promise."
They stood there like that for a moment, then Billy looked up and faced Lethe. "All right, if you promise." Together they struggled back up along the silver strand.
41
Ryan woke to the sound of crickets.
For a long moment, he didn't open his eyes, he simply savored the feeling of clean sheets beneath him and the smell of fresh air.
Even the dull pain in his chest and on his hands and face was welcome.
I'm alive.
He opened his eyes to silvery moonlight peeking through the miniblinds. The window was open, and the blinds rocked gently in the soft breeze blowing into the room.
Ryan felt good. Sore, tired, spent, but good nonetheless.
He was in one of the small guest rooms in the mansion's west wing, the walls were a soft magenta with oak wainscoting stretching up from the floor for about a meter.
A nice, simple room, compared to the luxury of the rest of the place. It suited Ryan just fine.
Ryan turned to the oak night stand next to the bed, and there, lying on a cushioned bed of real velvet, was the Dragon Heart. Ryan could feel its power, feel the pulse that drew him to it like the proverbial moth to the all-consuming flame.
Ryan stretched out a bandaged hand and clumsily grasped the Heart. He pulled it to his chest.
With a thought, he tapped into its power. Instantly, he felt the healing of his body accelerate at such a rapid rate that he found himself sitting upright without any complaint from his chest.
Ryan looked down and saw a piece of elegant stationery resting next to the velvet.
With care, Ryan peeled the bandages off his left hand. Even though the skin of his hand was fully healed, small, circular scars remained. He felt his face. It was covered in bandages as well.
He picked up the paper. There was a note inside, and he recognized the handwriting immediately. He leaned back against the pillows and read the flowing script.
My sweet Ryan,
I hope I am able to be there when you wake, but if not, I wanted you to know how much I love you, Ryan Mercury. I love you more than I can say, more than I will ever be able to express. v There are still dark days ahead, for both of us, but I know we will succeed. You have a mission that you must finish, I understand that, but even when the path seems dark, know this: there is one who loves you more than life itself.
I'll wait for you, Ryan. Unfaltering, unwavering, because I know you will return, just as I knew you would come for me in the arboretum.
With all my love, Nadja.
Ryan smiled, feeling the tightness of his newly healed skin.
He looked down at the Dragon Heart and thought about Nadja's words. She wasn't completely correct. He didn't have to leave if he didn't want to.
Ryan felt the Heart's power fill him.
I could keep it.
The idea made him giddy, just as it had the last time. When he had been consumed by Roxborough's personality and had decided to keep the Heart. To have all this power at his command, the wonders he could do.
Then, without bidding it, Miranda's face slipped into his mind. Her final request had been to make sure her sacrifice had meant something, that all the ruin and destruction hadn't been for nothing.
Ryan knew he was more than a little responsible for her death. He looked down at the new scar tissue on his hand, and that hand balled into a fist. Those scars brought the image of Nadja, soaking wet, nearly killed because of Burnout's desire for the Heart.
And my own.
As long as he kept it, he knew that wouldn't stop. There would always be those who desired it, and one day someone would come along with enough power to take it away from him.
Then it would all have been for
nothing.
Ryan felt the Dragon Heart's power wane inside him. With it, his desire to possess the artifact faded as well.
Ryan looked out the window at the beautiful sunshine.
"Don't worry, Dunkelzahn, you're going to get your way, as usual. Even dead, you're still going to get your way. But there's a difference this time, you bastard. I'm not doing this for you anymore. I'm not doing this for some holy crusade to save the fragging world either. I'm doing this for me, Dunkelzahn. You hear me? I'm going to finish this thing for me, and for everything and everyone I hold dear."
Ryan smiled to himself. "But you knew that, didn't you, old wyrm? You knew this would be the only way I'd take on the mission. By making it my own."
Ryan carefully set the Dragon Heart back on its velvet bed, and watched the breeze gently rock the blinds. "Be at peace, you old lizard."
Ryan smiled, as a single tear fell from his eye to be quickly absorbed in the bandages on his face. "I miss you."
42
The steady drizzle of rain spread a glossy sheen over the mirrored glass skyscrapers of Wonderland City. Alice brooded, her head bent as she watched the ground, seeing the reflection of the buildings in the shiny black of the street.
She stopped suddenly, taking a long drag from her cigarette. She gave up, admitting to herself that she didn't know what to do. I need outside counsel.
Wonderland placed the call for her.
"Hello?" came the man's voice, remarkably alert considering what he had been through. And his image came on-line. White bandages covered his head and face, though his silver-flecked blue eyes shone like glittering jewels.
"Ryan," Alice said. "Are you all right?"
"I've seen better days."
"I need your advice."
"You need my advice?"
"I don't know what to do with Rox."
"What have you done already?"