by Bryan Davis
“But you won’t even get to say good-bye.” Darcy’s voice rose to a lamenting wail. “Sir Barlow, you can’t leave her without saying good-bye!”
Matt grasped Darcy’s arm and gave her another firm shake. “Calm down. You have to focus. Don’t lose your grip.”
She turned to him, her eyes wide. After heaving several breaths, she spread out her hands as if trying to hold down a rising tide. “Okay, I’m in control now, but I can’t let you or Sir Barlow throw away your lives. Tamara needs him, and Lauren needs you.”
“Darcy, this isn’t about who needs who. Sir Barlow is a soldier who understands that when duty calls—”
“Duty? This has nothing to do with duty. This is all about love.” Darcy broke away and staggered toward the sanctum’s heart, lurching to each side as if tossed by a ship on a stormy sea.
Matt lunged for her but tripped over Lauren’s body and fell. “Darcy! No!”
She pushed her finger into the black hexagon. Matt leaped up, slung his arms around her waist, and pulled, but her finger stayed put.
As she leaned against Matt, she writhed and cried out, “Ah . . . ah . . . ah . . .” After each pain-streaked gasp, she sucked in air and gasped again.
Still trying to pull Darcy away, Matt called out, “Jade! Stop this thing!”
“It is impossible.” Jade glided to them and looked on stoically, the cloak draped over two of her arms. “Even if I could stop it, she would die. Once the siphoning begins, the leaking cannot be plugged. Her life would spill onto the floor instead of into the sanctum’s heart.”
Matt pulled Darcy close, her back against his chest. “Darcy . . .” As he fought for breath, a vise clamped his throat. “Darcy . . . why? Why did you do this?”
Breathing quick shallow breaths, she leaned back and pressed her cheek against his. “You don’t . . . don’t need me anymore. You have . . . Listener. She’s per . . . perfect for you. . . . Perfect. It’s no wonder you . . . you think she’s so . . . so amazing.”
Tears trickled down his cheeks. He swallowed past a painful lump. “I didn’t want to trade you for Listener. Barlow would have done it. Gladly done it.”
“Someone needs Barlow. No one needs me. . . . No one.” Her body twisted. She let out a long wail. When the spasm loosened, she looked at him, her eyes now clear. “It’s not . . . insane to . . . to give your life . . . so another can . . . can live.” She caressed his cheek. “Good-bye, Matt. I love you.” Her body dissolved into sparkling particles that filtered through his grasp and rained onto the floor, leaving behind a pile of clothing and shoes.
“Darcy!” He dropped to his knees and scooped a handful of the dwindling sparks. His arm shook, making the particles spill from his hand. A swirling gust picked up the clothes, uncovering Mariel’s watch and the Cracker Jacks ring. As the twisting breeze strengthened, it caught the watch and ring and began lifting them into the vortex.
Matt snatched the ring from the swirl and clutched it close to his chest with both hands. The other items rushed upward in the spin and disappeared in the darkness of the cylindrical chamber. His vision blurred by tears, he opened his hands and stared at the ring—a band of cheap metal, not worth a nickel . . . yet priceless.
He rewrapped his hands around the ring and cried out, “Darcy!” Sobs broke through, heaving gasps as he whispered, “I love you, Darcy. . . . I’m so sorry . . . I treated you the way I did. I wish . . . I wish I could’ve gotten . . . to know you better. We could’ve . . . we could’ve been friends.”
Something patted Matt on the back, and Sir Barlow’s voice flowed gently, much closer than before. “I apologize for interrupting your grief, Matthew, but you’d better come quickly. The four-armed lass says the portal will close soon.”
Matt looked up and blinked through a flood of tears. Sir Barlow stood a step away, Lauren’s body over his shoulder. The entire chamber seemed to spin. The honeycomb’s blackened hexagon cast a narrow red beam on the window leading to Abaddon’s Lair, like a beacon pointing the way.
After pushing the ring into his pocket, Matt climbed to his feet, took a step, and teetered to the side. A pair of strong hands grasped his arm and steadied him. “It’s me, Matt. It’s Listener. Let’s get out of here.”
He planted his feet, but his knees still felt weak. “Thanks.”
Listener, now wearing the cloak, released him. Her companion floated close to her ear, flashing blue. “Can you walk?”
He brushed tears away with a sleeve. “I think so.”
“Good.” Listener draped the cloak over Sir Barlow’s head and spread it across Lauren. “Let’s go.”
Sir Barlow stepped onto the window ledge and hopped down to the floor of Abaddon’s Lair. He laid Lauren’s body on the floor, tossed the cloak back to Listener, and helped her and Matt climb into the chamber as they ducked together under the cloak.
When all three had made it through, Matt shed the cloak and looked back. A window hung on a wall, providing a view into the sanctum. It looked so strange—a hole into another world. The heart within continued beating and sending scarlet pulses to the mirrors. The chamber seemed to pull his own heart back. He had brought Darcy there and now had to leave her behind—a fallen soldier on a battlefield who would never go home. Abaddon’s prophecy had come true. If Darcy had not fallen into this journey, Sir Barlow would have given his life energy to open the portal, and Darcy would still be alive.
Jade drew near from the other side. The green stone again brightening, she set her hands at the four corners and began pushing them toward the center. “Farewell. Although you lost the presence of a courageous companion, I hope this journey brings you the desires of your heart.” The window closed, leaving behind a mirror and a reflection showing Matt, Listener, and Sir Barlow, all staring with tear-filled eyes.
“Matt . . .” Listener touched his shoulder. “We need to get started. Her body—”
“I know. It’s going to rot.” He exhaled. That didn’t come out right. Too harsh. He had to control his grief. Listener deserved better. “I’m sorry. I just—”
“It’s okay. Don’t worry about it.” Listener pointed at the hourglass, its sand now about one-third spilled into the bottom compartment. “Abaddon said when the sand runs out, this place will crumble and disintegrate. No one remaining here will survive. It fluctuates sometimes, but based on its current rate, I’d say we have about thirty minutes.”
“Thirty minutes.” Matt nodded. “No time to waste.”
Listener touched the table. “Sir Barlow, lay her over here, please. I’ll clear the way.”
“Certainly, Miss.” After Listener moved the glass egg and candles and set them on the floor, Sir Barlow laid Lauren gently on her back, her head near the hourglass at one end of the table. From his tunic pocket, he withdrew the key ring along with the transparent key and set it on her chest near the necklace. Once again the beads pulsed with a multicolored hue. “How long ago did she die?” he asked.
“A couple of hours,” Matt said. “Why?”
“As one who has carried a number of corpses from the battlefield, I usually have a good feel for how long a warrior has been dead, based on stiffness, odor, and color. I would have guessed that Lauren expired only moments ago. Her body is quite limber and well preserved.”
“That’s good news.” Matt took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Grief for Darcy felt like someone had drilled a hole in his heart, but he had to pull himself together or he would lose another sister.
He withdrew Tamiel’s phone from his pocket, stood at the end of the table near Lauren’s head, and propped his elbows on the surface. When he slid his thumb across the screen to unlock the phone, Mom’s note appeared. “My mother wrote these instructions. Let’s see what happens.”
“One moment.” Sir Barlow walked over to the pair of statues standing several paces away. He wrapped his arms around the closer of the two, dragged it within Matt’s reach, and set it upright. It appeared to be fe
minine, but it displayed no identifiable features. “This is the one housing Lauren’s soul. Or at least we assume so.”
Matt looked at the second statue, tears still blurring his vision. “Could the other one be holding Darcy’s soul?”
“No, lad. It was already here before Darcy died.”
“Oh. Right. I should’ve remembered.”
Sir Barlow patted Matt on the shoulder. “Have no fear, Son. I will run out to the river and conduct another search. If Darcy’s soul is out there, I will find her.”
“Thanks, Sir Barlow. I really appreciate it.”
While Barlow hurried out of the chamber, Listener positioned herself in front of Abaddon’s book. “I’m ready. Just tell me what to do.”
“I’ll try. This is like waking up in a foreign country. I have no idea if it will work or not.”
“You need a confidence boost.” Listener laid a hand on his cheek and turned his face toward her. “Matt, Darcy said something about you thinking that I’m amazing. Did you tell her that?”
As heat rushed in his ears, he nodded. “I did.”
“Well, I think you’re amazing, too. Your heroism is an inspiration to me.” She kissed his cheek. As she drew back, her pigtails swayed in time with her companion’s affirming nod. “You can do this. Together, we can do this. You, Sir Barlow, and me. With help from the Father of Lights, we can do anything.”
Matt stared at her. Listener’s sincere eyes and determined expression washed over him like a cleansing shower, soothing and invigorating. For the first time in days, a sense of peace bathed his mind in spite of the crushing grief. Yes. They could do this. With God’s help, how could they fail?
He withdrew Darcy’s ring from his pocket and slid it onto his pinky. “Okay,” he said with a new spark of energy. “Let’s bring my sister back from the dead.”
Chapter 26
LIGHTS IN A DARK WORLD
Billy lay on his stomach, his cheek against cool grass and his eyes closed. Every muscle ached—stiff and heavy. Nothing would move. It felt as if an elephant had been sitting on him for hours.
A car horn sounded, once, twice, three times. Then it paused before repeating the three blasts, though these were longer. After another pause, the car honked three more times, returning to the shorter notes.
Forcing his eyelids open, he looked around. Loved ones lay scattered here and there—Bonnie, Walter, Ashley, Elam, Sapphira, and Yereq—all motionless. Matt and Darcy were nowhere in sight. An assault rifle lay close by, and the Mustang sat idling a few steps away. Two drones perched on the fabric top, their fangs protruding. Inside, Mariel sat in the driver’s seat and Thomas in the back.
Mariel leaned on the horn again and repeated the nine honks in the same sequence. When she finished, the pattern finally made sense—SOS in Morse code. At any moment those drones could claw their way into the car.
Billy stretched out a tingling arm and touched the rifle with a fingertip. He nudged his body to the side just enough to push the finger around the trigger frame. Slowly, he inched the rifle toward his body, praying that the drones wouldn’t notice.
Fortunately, Mariel kept blaring the horn, maybe to distract the drones. After nearly a minute, Billy had pulled the rifle within reach of both hands. Now if he could summon enough strength and mobility . . .
He thrust his body to the gun, grabbed it, aimed at the drones, and squeezed the trigger. Cracks sounded. Bullets flew and slammed into the beasts.
They squealed, leaped up, and flew away, dark blood dripping from their bodies.
The Mustang’s driver’s door popped open. Mariel climbed out and walked toward Billy as quickly as her old legs could carry her. She knelt at his side and grasped his arm. “Do you want to try to get up?”
Billy nodded. While she pulled, he climbed stiffly to his feet, still clutching the rifle. Blackness flooded his vision, and the burnt houses swayed back and forth as if spinning on a horizontal yoyo. “Check on the others. I have to get rid of this dizziness.”
“On my way.” Mariel hurried toward Bonnie. “Your wife first.”
The words felt like a splash of cold water. The dizziness fled, though when he followed Mariel, his legs felt like tree trunks rooted in a muddy marsh. As he slogged, Bonnie’s form clarified. She lay on her stomach, her wings splayed.
Mariel knelt and pressed two fingers on Bonnie’s throat. “I feel a pulse. She’s alive.”
“Thank God.” Dizzy again, Billy sat on the grass next to Bonnie and cradled her head with a hand. “Can you check the others for me?”
“Will do.” Mariel rose and hobbled toward Elam.
Billy slid his hand into Bonnie’s and compressed her fingers. “Bonnie? Can you hear me? It’s Billy.”
She shifted and groaned quietly but said nothing. Billy pushed her collar down, revealing two pairs of fang marks, red and dirty. “Those drones packed a punch,” he said, hoping his words would draw her back to consciousness. “I think I got bitten only once, so maybe that’s why I was the first to recover.”
“Elam’s alive,” Mariel called as she helped him sit up. “He’ll check on Sapphira while I see how Walter’s doing.” Like a nurse conducting triage, Mariel hurried from body to body and announced each patient’s condition. Walter and Ashley were both awake but too dizzy to stand, though Walter had risen to a sitting position. Since Yereq lay closest to the seventh door, Mariel walked toward him last of all.
Billy called out, “Has anyone seen Matt or Darcy?”
“Last I saw,” Walter said, “Matt was still hanging from the rope in the pit. At least five drones were attacking Yereq, and when they knocked him out, Darcy grabbed the rope. The weight jerked her in. I had three of those buzzards on me, so I couldn’t do anything about it.”
Billy forced his legs into an awkward, stomping jog toward the abyss. As he passed by Mariel, who now knelt next to Yereq, she looked up, tears in her eyes. “He’s dead, Billy. Yereq’s dead.”
“Dead?” Billy paused for a moment, then shook his head. He couldn’t deal with that right now. “I’ll be back.”
He hurried on and stopped at the edge of the abyss, careful to keep from falling in. Far below, a red light pulsed. Shadows appeared and disappeared on the walls, and rocks jutted out and then withdrew, but there was no sign of Matt or Darcy. Did they fall into oblivion? Only a miracle could have saved them.
Dizziness again stirred in his brain. He dropped to his knees and stared at the void. Might it be possible to search down there?
A hand grasped his shoulder. “I know what you’re thinking, buddy.”
Billy looked up. Walter stood at his side, a small coil of rope in hand. “This is all we have left. Climbing down there is suicide. Even if Matt did the impossible and managed to find a passage in the wall, which one was it? Will it even open up again? It’s like guessing where lightning is going to strike next—one in ten trillion chance you’ll get it right.”
“Walter, I have to try. He’s my son. I’ve already lost my daughter.”
“I know. That’s why I brought the rope.” Walter dropped the coil on the ground. “We’ve beaten tougher odds than that before.”
Ashley limped to the edge of the abyss and looked into the depths. “I sense someone down there, two people actually. Their minds are anxious, filled with pain.”
“That seals it. I’m going.” Billy extended a hand over the hole. The upwelling wind churned the air in a tornadic swirl, still strong and erratic. “Without Yereq to hold the rope, someone will have to drive the Mustang back and forth to raise and lower it.”
While Billy and Walter fastened the rope to the bumper and checked it for signs of weakness, Ashley and Mariel helped Elam, Sapphira, and Bonnie shake off the venom symptoms. Then Billy, Walter, and Elam took turns dropping into the abyss and searching for a passage, using a flashlight they had found on the prison bus.
After an hour or so, Gabriel and Roxil returned, Roxil now recovered from
the mysterious blight. They tested the vortex in the abyss and concluded that no winged creature could withstand it. Gabriel then drove the flatbed truck to its owner, planning to search for a longer rope and then fly back.
Since the dragon blight had been erased, Ashley used Elam’s phone to send a text message to Lois. If Lois successfully received the message, she would call Makaidos’s tooth transmitter and attempt to guide him and Thigocia to the seventh door. The text seemed to go through, but Lois didn’t answer.
When Gabriel returned with several sections of rope, he joined in the effort to probe the abyss. Now able to go deeper, they found many passages, but they all led to dead ends.
Although Ashley announced that she no longer sensed anyone in the abyss, Billy descended for one final try. After swinging into a recess, he sat on the floor and flicked on the flashlight. The recess’s door closed and crimped the rope, but that didn’t matter. Experience with dozens of other recesses proved that it would open again soon.
Still holding the rope, he guided the beam to the back. A low tunnel led several feet deeper, ending at bare rock. He sighed. Nothing. No escape that way.
While waiting for the door to open, he leaned against a side wall. Everything ached, especially his broken toes. He slipped a shoe and sock off and aimed the beam at the two little toes, both bent and swollen. They would heal eventually, but like many wounds, they might flare up throughout his remaining years, however few they might be.
With the beam illuminating the rocky floor, several dark spots came into view. He shifted closer and touched one of them— tacky, somewhat fresh. He shone the light on his fingertip, now red. Blood?
His heart thumping, he drew a knife from a belt sheath and used the blade to scrape as much blood as he could. After stowing the knife deep in his shoe, he tied the shoe to his belt. Soon, the door dropped open. He crawled out onto the projection and gave the rope a hard tug. “Haul me up!”