"I can't," said Aurie, throwing herself between Celesse D'Agastine and the gurney that contained Semyon Gray. "She's trying to fix the Engine. Give her time. Please."
"We don't have time," said Celesse. "If you can't get her, then we die. I'm sorry, Ms. Silverthorne. Please move."
"Is it that bad?" Aurie asked her professors.
Professor Longakers looked up from his computer screen, shaking his head. "I'm afraid we're in catastrophic territory. It could blow any time."
Professor Mali wouldn't make eye contact when Aurie looked to her for support.
"Stop delaying, Ms. Silverthorne," said Celesse sternly. "You know it's the right thing to do. Better one die than many."
"You can stop it?" asked Aurie.
"Of course I can, if I am your patron. The connection will pass from him to me, which means you'll be linked to me, thus giving me a measure of control. It won't be pretty, but I can deal with the excess of energy. You were foolish to speed it up without the knowledge required to control it. Let me put things to right."
Aurie kept herself in front of Semyon. There was no way she could stop Celesse or her three mages, but she couldn't let them kill her sister. If she'd only known that Celesse could have fixed it, she would have had Pi come out of the Engine with her. Joining Alchemists wasn't as bad as losing her sister.
The warning from Professor Mali came back in that instant, the request to stay away from the Temporal Engine. Aurie had thought she could handle it when she'd visited the ancient mage Oba. She didn't want to give up, not on Arcanium, not on the Halls, and especially not on her sister.
The truth was plain for her to see: had she not gotten the Engine, Pi wouldn't be stuck, about to be winked out of existence when Celesse pulled the plug on Semyon.
"You know it's the right thing," said Celesse, who flinched, touching her arm and then her leg as if something had bitten her. She glanced askance at Semyon before returning her gaze to Aurie. "Hurry, before it's too late."
Aurie hoped for support from Professor Mali, but she grimaced, acknowledging the dire situation.
As Aurie stepped to the side, the Engine dropped in pitch for a moment, warbling like a motor with sugar in the tank.
"It's working! It's working! See, she's fixing it," said Aurie, returning to her previous spot.
The whine still hurt her ears, but it'd lessened a hair. Enough that she could notice, anyway.
Everyone looked back to Professor Longakers. "It did reduce the build up a little, a fraction of a percent. Maybe we have a few more minutes of time at best."
"Please," said Aurie. "Give her a chance. She can do it. She's my sister. Nothing's going to stop her."
Celesse almost looked ready to agree until one of her mages pointed to Pi's body on the floor. Blood pooled in her closed eyes, running down her cheeks. Her forehead had been split wide open, and the skin on her arms bubbled and blackened as if she was being roasted alive.
"Something got her," said one of the mages.
"I think they're killing her."
To make matters worse, the Engine increased in frequency, leaving everyone with their hands cupped over their ears. Aurie almost expected every piece of glass in the room to shatter.
"Aurie! Get out of the way!" yelled Professor Mali. "There's no more time!"
The mages with Celesse weren't waiting. They stepped forward to move her, whether she wanted to or not. Aurie looked down at her broken and burnt sister. She didn't even know if Pi was breathing anymore, but feared to check, or give Celesse a chance at Semyon.
How could she let everyone die so she could save her sister? She knew her parents would have forgiven her. They would have told her to step out of the way, let the transfer happen to save the students of Arcanium. But it was her sister. The bright-eyed fierce cub who never took no for an answer. The sister who put the ointment on her feet when she accidently turned the floor stove-hot trying to improve their imaginary "Floor is Lava" game. The best friend who never bragged about her ability, even though she was better than her older sister at everything. The person who made her ache with fever just at the thought of losing her.
"No," said Aurie, preparing herself for battle. "I'm not moving. I'm not giving up on Pi. Never ever. You'll have to kill me if you want to destroy Semyon and my sister and ruin Arcanium and the Halls."
Celesse looked almost disappointed that it would have to come to violence, but she seemed ready, giving her three mages a heavy nod.
"Quickly now. Before we die in a temporal explosion."
Chapter Thirty
There was a lot to say about the quality of pain as Pi lay in the pebble-strewn grass under a sweltering blue sky, receiving crackling bolts of electricity from the outstretched fingers of Priyanka Sai. She realized there were levels of pain she'd never considered until that moment.
The flesh on her left arm had cracked open like a pig on a spit after the flesh had been charred until the fat burst forth. Pi realized that the fat from her arm smelled almost as sweet as bacon, bringing laughing tears.
"See," said Bannon. "She's a Rider. Mad as they come."
"Water," said Pi, gasping like a fish on dry land. "Please."
The hoarse screams and the quivering bolts of electricity had sucked the moisture from her mouth and throat. Water seemed more of a priority than escaping or lessening the pain, which at this point was like having a knife dug into her bone.
"Where is Malden?" asked Celesse in her Southern accent, clearly distressed. "He should be back with that girl by now. Two Riders in one place. Unusual."
Bannon had kept his ghostly shield and sword, standing over Pi as if he planned to behead her at any moment.
"This one is more powerful than the others," said Bannon. "We should kill it and be done. If it gets away, he'll be quite unhappy."
"Hush," said Priyanka, the corners of her lips curling downward. "Not everything can be solved with a sword or your fist. Violence is a tool, not a result."
Pi lay on her side, staring at the blackened flesh of her right arm, wondering if death was preferable to this pained existence. At the moment, living was winning, but she felt her resolve waning.
The only thing keeping her going was that failure meant disaster for Aurie too. Damn them all if they thought she was going to give up when her sister's life was in danger.
Pi tried to move her fingers in a spell, but the damage to her muscles and tendons had left her right arm inoperable. The fingers only twitched when she tried to move them. With her dry mouth, she didn't think she could use the Voice.
Using her knees and one arm, Pi started crawling towards the road. The four patrons had horses on the other side of the cottage. If she could only get to them...and if the three patrons ignored her...and if she could actually climb onto the horse...if...
"She's a resilient one," said Priyanka, standing over Pi. "I almost feel bad about what we had to do."
"Why do they keep attacking us?" asked Celesse.
"In this case, we were the ones who attacked," said Priyanka dryly.
"This I know," said Celesse indignantly. "I am aware of what we did. I mean the others. Rare has been the chance to turn the tables, but I don't feel right about what we've done."
Pi felt Bannon's presence move away.
"British cavalry are coming," he said from up the road.
"Curse him. Colonel Gray shows up everywhere," said Priyanka.
Pi had managed to work herself into a shaky-legged crouch position. She felt like a mouse being toyed with by a pack of feral felines.
"What do we do with her?" asked Celesse.
"We should kill it," said Bannon.
"I'm not sure," said Priyanka. "She seems different."
"We should let her go," said Celesse. "For all we know, she's like us. But we didn't give her a chance."
"If she's a Rider..." said Bannon.
"I have a better idea," said Priyanka. "We'll leave her for the colonel. He dislikes the Riders as much as we, and e
ven if he doesn't, he'll hang her for a witch. And I'd prefer not to stay around for additional debate."
"Agreed," said Celesse.
Bannon growled. "This decision will come to haunt us. Mark my words. But for now I will go with the consensus."
As Pi wobbled on her bent legs, the three patrons ran to their horses on the other side of the cottage. She glanced to the west, seeing only the dust cloud of incoming cavalry from her position, but knowing her time was short.
She tried to stand, but the strength in her legs had been robbed by the lightning. Pi made a half-step then collapsed, landing hard on her right arm, turning her vision crimson from the pain.
When she came to, she was no further to the cottage, and the British cavalry was closer. If she could only get to the fourth horse, the one Malden had left, she might escape.
"Here, horsy," she whispered. "Water. I need water."
Pi crawled towards the broken wagon. The distance was only a few meters, but it felt like a marathon. When she reached the timbers, she moved them out of the way to find a ripped water pouch spilling its precious cargo into the dirt. Pi leaned down and sucked at the muddy water, taking in bugs and mud, but feeling her tongue unstick from the roof of her mouth.
With her throat lubricated, Pi attempted the Voice on the remaining horse, hoping it would work on an animal as easily as it did on humans.
"Come here."
The first attempt cracked her voice.
Pi swallowed. Tried again.
"Horse. Come here."
This time her voice carried across the distance. The horse's ears perked up, but otherwise the mount stayed in its spot and went back to chewing grass.
Pi was about to try a third time when a fit of coughing brought her to her side. When she was finished, she didn't have the energy to climb to her knees and call the horse again. The use of the Voice had drained her.
When the tromp of a hoof near her head startled her, she thought the British had arrived. But then she realized Malden's horse had come as called. This gave her a spark. She climbed to her feet, laborious and slow, grabbing onto the stirrups for leverage. Pulling herself up the side of the horse was like climbing Mount Everest, but she managed on the first try, flopping herself over.
The British officers on horseback were less than a football field away. Pi had never ridden a horse in her life, and when she nudged it towards the road, it took off at a back-breaking trot that nearly caused her to black out when the impact shook her burnt arms.
To Pi's surprise, the black horse—sensing pursuit—took off down the road, forcing her to grab the reins and hold on. She felt like a spring broken loose and dangling from a whirling clockwork.
There was no way she was going to outrun the cavalry in her condition, but she spurred the horse to go faster, hitting the saddlebags with her heel. Leaning to the side to bring her left arm across her body, she dug into the leather pouch, bringing forth a glass vial with a vile looking brown liquid in it.
Using her teeth, she unstoppered it, giving the mixture a sniff. Mint. Maybe the breath of a hellhound. There was a fifty-fifty chance that the potion might heal her, or at least improve her in some way. On the bad side, she'd probably not survive drinking it.
Without another thought, Pi threw the liquid into the back of her throat. It burned like minty hot sauce, which made her gag and almost toss it right back up. When it hit her stomach it was like a wildfire had been lit inside her. Actual smoke puffed from her lips, and before she'd finished a second breath, she felt like an Olympic athlete about to sprint the hundred-meter dash.
Pi grabbed the reins firmly and gave them a flick, sending her mount into a sprint. The black horse shimmered in the afternoon sun, muscles flexing, mane whipping against Pi's hands as she rode away from the British.
The pain in her right arm was distant, but she knew the damage was extensive, and she'd pay later, but she didn't have time. The road traversed a series of hills which she took at full gallop. After about a half hour, she sensed the elixir wearing off and slowed, fearing a rebound effect.
The potion had given her excellent reflexes, so she held onto the horse with her thighs and used the temporary flexibility of her fingers to heal her arm enough that she would be capable of using it after the potion had worn off.
Free from pursuit, Pi worried about the time desolation blocking her from her destination, but as she neared, she sensed that her way would be clear.
She didn't know exactly where she needed to go, especially without a GPS phone to tell her the location, but as she trotted down the road, she felt a slight pulling to the left. She followed her instincts when she found a dirt road that headed into the forest and rode for another five hours, breaking off into the wilderness when the road turned to undergrowth. She hadn't hit the Delaware River, so she knew she hadn't gone too far.
The wells of power grew stronger as she neared the location that would eventually become the city of Invictus. Without the modern metropolis built up and layered with faez, it was easier to sense the wells. Before it was like trying to use a compass in an MRI machine.
When she sensed that she was within a mile of the source of power, she kicked the haunches of her mount, spurring it forward. Halfway there, she spied a cottage on the other side of a small lake, and immediately, she knew who lived there without thinking about it.
The detour would take another half hour to wind around, not including the time spent if the occupant actually lived at that destination. Aurie and the rest of Arcanium needed her to dissipate the energy in the Temporal Engine, but here was an opportunity she couldn't pass up, even if it wasn't the real person, and only a figment made up of Semyon's and the other patrons' memories.
Pi pulled on the reins, turning the horse towards the cottage. There was no smoke coming from the chimney, but it was summer, so she hadn't expected it, but if no one was home, she was going to feel foolish.
Hopping off the horse, Pi jogged to the door. As she lifted her hand to knock, a deep voice said, "Come in, traveler."
The power in his voice shook her, even from beyond the door. It was like hearing the granite bedrock of the earth speak.
She pushed through the door, pulling up short when her gaze fell upon him. Invictus.
"Greetings," he said, eyes sparkling with deep knowledge, like vast underground caves piled with books. For a moment, as his gaze shifted across her, her limbs trembled. She sensed his power, like standing next to a blast furnace and desiring to move away.
He was seated at a table, carving a hunk of bone with a paring knife. A pile of pale, curled bone-slivers had collected at the edge of the table.
Invictus was not much different than what she'd seen in pictures or shows, except that his wavy shoulder-length black hair had a healthy luster. He was shorter than she'd expected. For some reason, she'd always thought he was a towering figure, but she guessed that Aurie might almost be as tall. His warm, nut-brown skin tones suggested many origins.
"Hello...I mean, greetings," she said, glancing around the room at the many objects in the cluttered cottage.
There were, of course, the requisite books and tomes with silvery symbols, or other names she read at a glance: The Maharal of Prague, Alphabet of the Magi, On the Value of Games, The Diary of Farmer Weathersky, The Magician and his Pupil. Shoved into shelves and empty spaces were treasures such as a desiccated mummy hand missing the pinky finger, a geode in the shape of a skull with its tongue sticking out, an azure glass ball containing a billowing gas, empty vials in the shape of pyramids, a row of alchemy reagents (or cooking spices, she couldn't tell), a puddle of sunlight that oozed around the corner of the room, and other curiosities she had no time to investigate.
"You've come because of the wells, haven't you?" he asked, eyebrow raised into a magnificent arch.
"I...uhm, yes."
His expression fell flat. "Then why did you stop here?"
She glanced at the door, wondering if she'd made a mistake in coming. What
if he didn't let her leave?
"I...I wanted to ask permission," she said, feeling like she'd entered a part of Semyon's memory with different rules, "and ask a question."
His lips spread into a smile that unlocked her breath. "A wise choice, the first part. Tell me, why do you need the wells? Do not lie to me, or I'll know." Without taking his eyes from her, he knocked another chip from the bone with his knife. If she squinted, the carving appeared to be a feline with ears pinned back clutching a sword. The cat-knight was perched on a base. She saw other figures on a shelf in the back of the room that suggested he was carving a chess set.
She had no idea if telling this figment of Semyon's imagination the real truth would create problems, but she couldn't exactly lie to him either.
"I need to save my friends," said Pi, "and I need to use the wells to do it. It's hard to explain much more than that without giving away secrets I'm not allowed to talk about."
"You can tell me or I will not answer your question," said Invictus.
Pi hesitated, and he flicked the end of his knife towards the door, and it slammed shut, then he went back to carving. She had a sinking feeling that the bone he was carving was not animal.
"I can't tell you, or it'll trigger a curse. Look, I know we don't know each other, or at least that you don't know me, but I know you. I know some people you know as well. Malden Anterist, Celesse D'Agastine, Priyanka Sai, Bannon Creed, and Semyon Gray. I even know why you know them. You want to bring them together to form a school of magic, though I have no idea how, because Semyon is a witch-hunter, and the rest of them are battling Riders, and they don't seem to like each other at all, which I guess, now that I think about it, is unsurprising."
The soft call of a cat came from the room behind the one they were in, though Pi could not see the animal. It appeared that space was a kitchen, of sorts.
"Excuse me," he said, setting his knife and carving onto the table before fetching a bowl from a shelf and setting it onto the floor. A tabby cat darted forward and shoved its face directly into the bowl, noisily eating while flicking its tail. Invictus stroked his hand across the cat's back before returning to the table.
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