by D. N. Leo
“What do you mean by him forcing you?” Ciaran’s voice was dangerously low. The pain pounded in his head. The heat of the Red stage still lingered in him. It was hell.
And he wouldn’t have passed if Madeline hadn’t gone down to look for him. He would have been forced to take another queen. Which he wouldn’t have done. And then he would have been killed.
Bran knew all this. He wanted to ensure he had the queen with him. Someone he could trust, and someone who foolishly trusted him.
There was no response from his mother, so he asked again, “What do you mean by him forcing you?”
“I mean that I didn’t consent to be his wife. But he manipulated the data and blackmailed the gatekeeper to cheat the system. Martin Chinxz was the gatekeeper. He took pity on me. He gave me a copy of the original data. He died a few years later of ‘natural causes’—you were naive enough to believe that, Conan!”
“If you show the council the original record, you will be charged with withholding it,” Conan said.
“Then I’d plead guilty. I was a victim. The penalty shouldn’t be too severe. Martin Chinxz died. I can claim fear, shame, or whatever reason you can think of . . .”
While his mother ranted about the plan to convict Bran, Ciaran broke into her portable databank.
He had activated and played the record of her original. She had passcodes and locks on the file, but opening these portable databank locks was child’s play for Ciaran.
As soon as the data came on the screen, his blood ran cold. “Is this the original record?” he asked and turned the monitor around so that his mother and Conan could see it.
He could see in his mother’s eyes that, although she had not watched it for years, the incident was still raw in her memory.
On the monitor was the scene of her being raped and beaten.
Compared to the hell that he went through at the Red stage and the condition of the creatures in the form of women who had been ripped of all dignity, his mother’s condition was far worse.
As the female companion, a contender to be queen, Madeline was well protected by his love and her love for him. They were unified. That was how they got through.
His mother had gotten nothing. She didn’t love Bran, didn’t agree to marry him, and thus shouldn’t have even been in the Red stage. Bran had only wanted a queen, and he didn’t love her. They weren’t soul mates. He couldn’t and wouldn’t have protected her.
He had merely wanted a queen to consummate so that he could pass the gate and became king.
His mother had been on her own, against everything and everyone in the gate.
The pain in his head was unbearable. He was afraid his fury would surface. But if it did, who would it kill?
In the corner of the screen was the text: Transmutation rebirth. Child conceived.
Ciaran shook his head. That child was him.
That was how he had been born. The best human being conceived in the Red stage of the transmutation process. Even the spiritual system disregarded human emotions. He had been conceived at the best astronomical moment and had inherited the best from his parents.
What could his mother have done apart from swallowing the truth and raising her child? If Bran could replace the data, what would be his mother’s chances of proving that her record was the original? Between the words of the King of Eudaiz and a young girl, foolishly in love, who had agreed to pass all other stages of the Daimon Gate test with her man, who would the authorities believe?
Jennifer charged at Ciaran. She slapped him in the face. “How dare you!”
Ciaran pulled his mother into his arms and let her cry.
He saw stars in his eyes. Black stars of fury. They needed to consume. They needed to kill. He needed to destroy.
Tears rolled down Conan’s face. He knew his wife had been forced. But he obviously hadn’t realized the extent of it. And he had not known about the record. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he did not believe her at times.
The record of the EYE was flawless. It was the best computer system in the cosmos. It was the system he had sworn to protect.
After a moment, Ciaran asked, “Does Bran know about me?”
Jennifer shook her head. “He didn’t look at the original—he was in too much of a hurry to replace it.”
The computer announced Bran’s request again.
Conan punched at the control button. “Tell him just a few minutes.”
Ciaran picked his mother up, walked her to the room next door, and gently placed her down on a reading chair. He walked out, closed the door, jammed it from the outside, and ignored her cries to be released.
“I’m going to get Bran inside the gate for you. Do you trust me?” Ciaran asked Conan.
“But—”
“Do you want Mother to report that tape?”
“No, but—”
“I’ll need some data from the EYE. Just a little.”
“I can’t let you download any data.”
“If I can get Bran inside the gate, then everything should be fine, am I correct?”
Conan nodded.
“Then let’s do it.”
Before leaving, Ciaran said, “Again, I believe in nurture. I only have—and accept—one father.”
Conan nodded. “And I have two sons, both of whom I love more than anything.”
“Let’s keep it that way.”
Chapter 38
A moment later, Ciaran walked toward the exit, where Bran was waiting. He saw that Madeline, Zach, and Tadgh had been moved into the transitional zone. They could see into but could not re-enter the gate.
Tears streamed down Madeline’s face. She had an incredible sixth sense. She must know disaster was coming. Madeline, his wife, his children’s mother—she was beautiful. Ciaran wanted to rush to her and kiss her, but he knew it was best not to make Bran suspect.
“What took so long?” Bran asked.
“Didn’t you get the message? My mother was in there. She wanted me to stay for tea!”
Bran nodded. “As I suspected, she’s the Hostess, isn’t she?”
Ciaran nodded. “Can we go now?”
“I have to make sure that you got the data first. Once we are out of here, there will be no chance for us to get back to the EYE.”
“I got the data. How do you want to check it?”
Bran contemplated. “Let’s connect when we get to Eudaiz.” He turned around to leave.
“Sure.” Ciaran followed, walking as slowly as he could.
“What’s the matter?”
“Nothing. Just a little pain.”
“I’ll see to it when we settle.”
“Why did you want the data on rural planning and plantations?”
Bran stopped. “What?”
Ciaran shrugged. “I saw part of the data before downloading.”
Bran narrowed his eyes, “Are you sure you got the right data?”
“If I recall correctly, you wanted the data in the EYE system, right?”
“That’s correct.”
“That’s it then. Time was limited. I could only download some of the categories, whichever came first.”
“What? Was the access granted to all categories?”
“I’m not sure. Let’s go,” Ciaran said and strode toward the exit.
“No, no, if we go, we can’t get back in.”
“I’m not going back in. Why don’t you do it yourself?”
Bran looked directly into Ciaran’s eyes. “You’re not trying to trick me, are you, Ciaran?”
“What reason would I have to do that?”
“I can still withdraw your successor role. If I do it now before you exit the gate, you will be a gate-crasher. That will be a sentence of death by a thousand lightning bolts.”
“Remember, Bran, I promised to do this for you in exchange for information about my mother. Now I know that my mother is well and good. Why would I want to do anything to you?”
Bran nodded. “I’m sorry. Okay. Let’
s just check the data before we go.”
“I want to get to my wife. So whatever you want to do in here, do it quickly.”
“Give me your left hand.”
Bran reached his right hand out and clasped Ciaran’s left palm as if they were engaged in a handshake.
As soon as their hands connected, Ciaran could feel a current run from his spine to his palm. Bran’s eyes went blank as if he was looking into the distance. Then he snapped back quickly and tried to withdraw his hand.
Ciaran clasped Bran’s hand tighter and would not let go.
“What’s wrong?” Ciaran asked.
Bran’s eyes darkened. “You son of a bitch.” Bran pulled his hand hard, trying to yank it out of Ciaran’s grip.
Ciaran predicted that Bran had now left his digital imprint at the EYE databank—proof of his attempt to gain access. Ciaran looked up and saw sparks of oncoming lightning bolts. He let Bran’s hand go.
“This is for what you did to my mother. You don’t deserve her.”
“I won’t go down alone, Ciaran.” Bran looked up and saw the lightning coming his way.
Out of the corner of his eye, Ciaran saw Conan and his mother desperately running toward him. They gestured for him to get out.
Ciaran withdrew out of the exit.
Bran saw the opportunity and ran back toward the black arched stone to go back to the oblivion. They could not get him from the black hole.
Ciaran tackled him and pushed him back to the exit zone.
From the transitional zone, Madeline, Tadgh, and Zach tried to re-enter without success. They witnessed Bran and Ciaran struggling for reasons unknown to them.
Bran drew his King Sciphil sword. “I’m not going down alone, Ciaran. You’ll have to share these thousand lightning bolts with me.”
He charged at Ciaran with the sword. Ciaran pulled out his daggers. They fought.
Although Bran was an old man, he was King Sciphil. At this stage, Ciaran was only a human. Bran kicked Ciaran to the ground.
“Ciaran LeBlanc, I renounce your role as my successor.”
Bran tried to grab Ciaran’s left arm where he had the golden crucifix. Ciaran withdrew.
“I do not accept.”
He rolled away and kicked Bran back into the exit zone.
Madeline, Tadgh, and Zach were being transported further away and were near the end of the transitional zone. Ciaran glanced quickly at the tears on Madeline’s face.
Bran charged out of the exit zone again. Ciaran had to force him back in with a weapon fight.
The daggers and sword clashed and ignited sparks. Ciaran locked the sword against a stone with his two daggers. Bran pulled at the sword but could not move it from the stone. Ciaran snatched Bran and spun him around. Bran fell to the ground.
Ciaran used his body weight to pin him down to the ground. He was about to land a punch on Bran’s face.
But he couldn’t do it. He could kill Bran with a weapon—and he would. But he could not find the will to use his fist on the man who had created him.
Bran looked up at Ciaran from the ground. For a brief moment, Bran registered something so profound that he could not explain it—a blood connection between them.
Bran shoved Ciaran away and stood up.
They eyed each other, saying nothing.
The lightning bolts drew nearer.
Conan and Jennifer approached from the other direction.
Thunder rumbled in from outside the gate.
Madeline, Tadgh, and Zach were outside the gate, and it started to close.
Madeline saw the lightning storm right above where Ciaran and Bran were standing.
She screamed, but she knew Ciaran couldn’t hear her.
A bolt of lightning knocked Ciaran off his feet and threw him out of the exit zone.
Others started striking Bran. He blocked one. He blocked another. And then he was hit. He slumped to the ground. He stood up quickly, roared, and ran toward the closing gate. More lightning bolts fenced him in. He could run no longer. He stood and took the hits.
He looked at Ciaran. Ciaran couldn’t hear him, but he was sure Bran said, “I forgive you.”
Ciaran stood up.
His mother and Conan continued to run toward the zone. Lightning bolts struck everywhere in hundreds of blazing colors. It was difficult to see Bran now, but through a little gap in the bolts, Ciaran caught a glimpse of him.
Madeline stood numbly, gazing through the remaining slit in the closing gate at what was happening.
There was a whirl of light as the burning King Sciphil sword flew out from the forest of lightning bolts toward Jennifer. Conan darted forward, pushing Jennifer aside. All he could do was watch it flying directly toward him.
Conan knew it would be the end. He would take the sword from his brother.
A body flew in front of Conan, blocking the sword’s path.
Ciaran dropped to the ground. The sword had pierced his body.
Ciaran reeled up. He pulled the sword out and threw it toward the forest of lightning bolts.
The sword pinned Bran’s body to the stone, where he stood immobile and died.
Blood streamed out of the wound in Ciaran’s body. He fell to the ground.
That was the last thing Madeline saw.
The gate closed.
Darkness.
Chapter 39
Madeline woke in Ayana’s arms. She had passed out for a brief moment when she saw the last image of Ciaran before the Daimon Gate closed.
She could accept that he might die. But she could not accept the gate between them. He might die, but they could not be in two different worlds when it happened.
Madeline shrugged off Ayana’s supporting arms.
“Take me back inside the gate, please.”
Taking one look at Madeline, Ayana understood that nothing she said or did now could waver her determination. She nodded.
Ayana reopened the gate.
Madeline charged inside, followed by Tadgh, Zach, Jo, Ayana, and Pete.
The air in the exit zone was thick with smoke and the acrid smell of something burning. The scorched ground encircled a large area. Bran’s dead body was still pinned to the stone.
In the corner, Jennifer was holding Ciaran’s body in her arms.
“Oh, God.” Tadgh’s face expressed pure anguish. Conan approached, pulling Tadgh into his arms and letting him cry.
Zach saw no tears on Madeline’s face. She was as cold as steel.
Madeline crouched next to Jennifer.
“Could I take a look at him, please?”
“He’s dead. I killed my son.”
“Please,” she repeated.
Jennifer looked at Madeline and released Ciaran.
Madeline needed no medical knowledge to know that Ciaran was gone. But her sixth sense told her to believe otherwise. That was all she had at the moment. Her sixth sense guided by her Daimon. She would do whatever it took to protect the happiness she had fought for and serve.
Madeline looked at Bran’s body, and she puzzled.
She reached down and kissed Ciaran’s still-warm face. Then she flew across the scorched ground toward Bran. Madeline pulled at the King Sciphil sword that pinned him to the stone. Bran’s body instantly disintegrated into the air, the same way Juliette’s body had exploded under the two thousand light beams.
Before anyone could react or say anything, the ground rumbled and shook.
The sound of an explosion came through the gate and shook the ground again.
“A reformation,” Ayana mumbled.
The gate spun open. Bran re-entered the gate at great speed in spectacular form—a form that resembled that of his glorious days. Tears streamed down Ayana’s face when she caught sight of him.
Conan ran in front of everyone, blocking Bran. The two brothers snarled at each other and whirled around like two male lions guarding their territories and testing their prowess.
“Have you ever seen a King of Eudaiz die inside the
gate, Conan?”
“I underestimated you . . .”
“You did that all your life, brother. That sword was for you, not for him.”
“He took it. I couldn’t stop him.”
Bran raised his hand, and his sword returned to him instantly. He pointed it at Conan. “If I do it again, will you take the sword this time?”
Jennifer stood in front of Conan. “Please don’t kill him, Bran.”
“Yes, I’ll take your sword. If I can take it and wash away your sins, I will,” Conan said.
Bran pushed the sword forward, pressing it to Conan’s throat. “You’d stand there and take it?”
Conan retained his stance. Blood dripped from his neck where the sword was cutting into his flesh.
Jennifer looked into Bran’s eyes. She stepped away from Conan.
“You can take me next,” Jennifer said.
Bran looked at Conan and Jennifer. He nodded and pulled the sword away.
Bran approached and crouched next to Madeline.
“I know I can bring him back, Bran. I’ll do anything. Tell me.” She looked at Bran.
“Ciaran is a lucky bastard, isn’t he?” Bran muttered. “I need him conscious and able accept his kingship before I take him to the tower. I need a privilege, right now.”
“The privilege for this trip was used for Tadgh. Not only that, he was killed by your evil King Sciphil sword. A privilege cannot save him,” Conan said.
Bran glanced at Conan. “You’re the Host. Do something.”
“I’ll use my lifetime privilege. I can only use it once, and it can only bring him back for a very brief moment. The rest will be in your hands,” Conan said.
“That’s good enough.”
Conan turned around and sped away.
On the ground, Ciaran stirred and opened his eyes. When he saw Bran, anger crossed his face, but he was too weak to say or do anything. He closed his eyes again.
Madeline grabbed Ciaran’s shoulders and shook. “Don’t waste the privilege your father sacrificed, Ciaran. Open your eyes and accept what Bran says.”