by Alex Ziebart
“Yes. She’s done it once since I met her.”
“If I kill her…what happens to me? Do I become Delphi or something?”
“No. Not unless you submit to her will. Her vessels are volunteers. They’re women who believe in what she does so completely, they’re willing to sacrifice themselves to ensure her continued existence. I get the impression they know far more about her goals and intentions than I do.”
“Why only women?”
“Personal preference, I suspect. If forced, I wouldn’t be surprised if she could take a man’s body. But when she has gifted, female volunteers…”
“Is there a way I can prevent her from…passing on?”
“On short notice? Kill her and everyone who follows her. I’d rather you didn’t do that. It’d be better if you could convince her followers she isn’t worth the sacrifice. But for now, stopping her will be enough.”
They bypassed East Plaza in its entirety, reaching a heavy steel door Kristen estimated was at least a block from where she’d started. “You'll exit here,” the archer explained, “but if the cops are on their game, they might be watching it. Should be less of them, though. They might not be inclined to pick a fight.”
Light filtered in through gaps around the door, casting beams through dust thrown into the air by Delphi's worsening quake. Kristen prayed silently to whomever cared to listen, thanking them for the ring's long windup. She wasn't a believer, but given everything else she'd seen in a few short days, she wondered if she should be. “I'll play nice if they do. You aren't coming?”
“I'm going back. I need to clean up my arrows. And your blood.”
Kristen winced. “I need to stop letting that stuff lay around.”
“I agree. Good luck. I don't honestly know how many of us are there with her.”
Away from the parking garage, the combined stench of exhaust, gasoline, and motor oil had lifted. Standing beside the archer, she smelled aftershave. “You smell nice for a robo-asshole who shot me.”
“Do you want to save the city or not? Get moving.”
“I was saying thank you.”
The archer walked back down the hallway. “You're welcome.”
Kristen waited until he was sufficiently concealed in shadows and shoved the door open. She heard a lock snap, but it didn't slow her down. Sunlight flooded in and she shielded her eyes. Shouts of alarm rose in an instant along with the shuffling of boots.
“Get on the ground!” Other voices echoed the command. She took her hand from her eyes and strode forward instead.
“I'm the Maiden,” she shouted at them. “There's no bomb! I handled it.”
Utter incoherence erupted and she couldn't blame them; no police force or military in the world had training to deal with someone like her. They took positions behind their cruisers, which formed a barricade around the building, and leveled their weapons. She wasn’t sure where she’d come out, but it wasn’t East Plaza.
“Get it together!” she yelled. “I handled it in there. It's done. But there's something worse, and I'm the only person who can deal with it. Point your guns somewhere else.”
“Go.” She recognized that voice. One word was enough. Chief Tillman, tall and slender, stood behind the barricade. “If you're talking about the shaking, then go. I want to talk you, but it can wait.”
“If I can’t stop this, it’s going to be bad. I’m going to do my best, but get people to safety. I’ve been told this city wasn’t built to withstand an earthquake.”
“Is that what this is?”
“Yeah.”
“You’re going to stop an earthquake?”
“If I do, will that get you off my ass?”
“I’m just doing my job.”
“Uh, where am I right now?”
“North Jackson.”
Kristen glanced around to get her bearings—east of East Plaza, she decided. “Thanks. Oh, and tell everyone to stop calling me Maiden. I’m Lady Superior.”
Setting a course in her mind, she shot Chief Tillman a jaunty salute and took off at a sprint.
She’d only gone a block when her comm crackled in her ear. Cole’s voice came first. “I’m not throwing blame. I’m just saying we need a plan right-fucking-now. Both of your rookies are down and we still don’t know where we’re going.”
Still running, Kristen tapped her earpiece. “Seidel Tower. I’m on my way.”
“Kristen?” Jane’s voice, shrill and frazzled.
“Yeah, what’s up?”
“Did you go deaf for the last twenty minutes or what?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You and Todd went dark. Is he with you?”
Fear crawled up her spine again, but still she ran. “No. Fill me in. What happened?”
Gabby cut in. “Hold up. Seidel Tower you said?”
“Yeah.”
“I told you, Jane. I fucking told you.”
Jane. “Shut up. It doesn’t even make sense. She’s trying to bring the building down. Why would she—oh. Oh, shit.”
Cole. “She’s a bodysnatcher. She doesn’t care if she dies. She’ll become someone else.”
Kristen kept running. Trying to talk at the same time, she was running short on breath. She tore through the streets of downtown, the ground increasingly stable, water seeping through cracks in the concrete. “Sounds about right. The guy I ran into—he started out talking like some kind of zealot. Wouldn’t surprise me if she has followers just waiting to become Delphi or whatever. Now what happened to Todd?”
Jane brought her voice down to a soothing tone. “We don’t know. Maybe nothing. He went dark.”
“I went dark, too. I’m sure he’s fine.”
She meant it. Given Todd’s ability, she couldn’t think of anything that could tie him down. If they tried anything less than shooting him in the back, he could blink from any trouble.
The ground jerked sideways, and Kristen stumbled. She threw her arms out to catch her balance. One foot caught the heel of the other and pitched her forward. She hit the concrete and rolled, trying to get back up on her feet. The ground jerked in the other direction and she sprawled onto her back. Looking skyward in a daze, she saw the city sway back and forth. As she lay still, the wailing sirens were deafening, made worse by countless screams of panic. There was something else, too—a reverberating, bestial howl. Kristen jerked herself upright, rolled to her belly, and pushed herself off the ground. She turned a circle, seeing the people running, screaming, crying—confused and clueless.
Jane was right. No one had any idea what to do in an earthquake. Kristen couldn’t remember earthquake drills from childhood; tornado drills were driven into her psyche like a nail into a board, but an earthquake? Nothing. Her eyes flicked up and down the street, trying to formulate a plan. Could she do anything here? Could she try to herd them all into safety?
She shook her head. No. Stopping Delphi was the only way to help.
Kristen set her feet and ran. She pushed herself harder and harder, the run and the beating sun causing sweat to run off of her in rivers. The salt stung her eyes, but she pushed on, through streets and across the river, across concrete and worn cream brick, leaping curbs and cars, twisting, dodging, and juking through the panicked crowds like a breakaway running back. Broken glass rained down from above. Kristen leapt aside on instinct—an air conditioning unit smashed onto the ground beside her—and she kept running, even as the streets flooded with water.
Seidel Tower came into view. Kristen charged the building head on and set her shoulder. She slammed herself into the thick oak doors, which exploded into splinters. Pain coursed through her bloody shoulder on impact, but she swallowed it down and let momentum carry her in. She slid to a stop inside. Casting her gaze around the room, she caught sight of someone ahead, but for only a moment.
Something solid hit her—all of her—and then she felt wind at her back, only vaguely aware she was flying through the air. Kristen hit concrete, slid, and then rolled
. Her body crunched into a car and she came to sudden, dizzying stop. She tried to push herself back up to her feet. She toppled over. Color danced in her eyes like glitter. She looked down. Her clothes were torn and angry red road rash glared back at her through the gaps. The palms of her hands seeped blood from an unconscious attempt to stop herself. She looked up. Seidel Tower loomed across the street. A figure emerged from the doors’ shattered remnants. Dark hair. Dark clothes. Pale skin. A woman, fishnets on her arms and legs.
Kristen pushed herself off the ground again. Her head swam on the way up. She stumbled sideways with the jerking of the earth, but caught her feet. She called out, trying to put strength back into her voice. “Hey. Can’t we play nice?”
“I won’t let you get to Delphi.”
“I like your clothes. I was a little gothy back in the day, but you probably know how high school is. You only get to be one thing, you know? Goth-nerd-jock didn’t work out for me.”
The woman lifted one hand into the air, palm out. Kristen flinched on reflex. A force like a moving train slammed her back into the car. For a second, her vision went black. She blinked to make sure she hadn’t closed her eyes. When vision returned, she found herself tangled in the car itself—broken fiberglass and twisted metal hung around her like a cage, pieces of the windshield caught in her hair, poking at her through her clothes. Kristen made a mental effort to stifle the pain in her shoulder, in her ribs, in her head, but it was becoming too much. She could only take the edge off; her body throbbed regardless of her wishes.
Kristen jerked one arm free, then the other. Grabbing hold of the car’s roof, she heaved herself up and out, back onto the street. Ahead, the woman held her ground, both arms held at her sides like a cowboy at a duel. Beyond, shards of stone fell from Seidel Tower and the whole city rumbled. Kristen brushed blood from her forehead with the back of her hand.
Now what?
The woman’s arm twitched. Kristen turned and dug her fingers into the car’s broken shell. Mustering all of her strength, Kristen turned on a dime and hurled the car at the other woman. Halfway to its target, the car’s remains burst into pieces, chunks of metal and powdered fiberglass spewing into the air. Kristen was right behind it, leaping over the biggest pieces and through the smallest, coming down in an arc. With one terrible blow, she laid the woman out on the concrete.
Kristen got down on one knee beside the woman and rolled her onto her back. She lifted one of the woman’s arms and dropped it, watching it fall limp. She tried to check for a pulse—she didn’t find one, because she didn’t know how—and watched for breathing, instead. The woman’s chest rose and fell with slow, shallow breaths. Again, she heard the bestial howl. Kristen tried to follow the sound to the source, but it seemed to come from everywhere at once. She shivered, but didn’t have time to worry about it. Kristen tapped her earpiece. “Does this still work?”
“We hear you, Maiden,” Cole replied.
“I’m heading into Seidel Tower. I left someone outside. Give her medical attention, then get the hell away from her. She’s…uh…” Kristen winced and arched her back, every vertebrae crackling. “Let’s say dangerous for now.”
“Give ‘em hell, Maiden.”
Kristen entered Seidel Tower for the second time. “Please stopping calling me that.”
“Roger that. Thought you’d like your badass hero name while doing hero crap.”
“Yeah, but my name is…” Kristen danced sideways along with a sudden shift in the earth, keeping her footing this time. “Oh, screw it. Not the time. Later.”
Kristen limped through the lobby—she only then realized she had a limp—and cast another cautious glance around the room. Power was out, leaving only sunlight through the shaded windows and broken doors to illuminate the area. Linoleum tile peeled from the floor, and the ceiling tiles were stained yellow by leaky plumping. Busts and sculptures had toppled over and shattered on the green-and-brown checkered floor. Nursing her ribs, she walked through the lobby, scanning for signs of an elevator or stairs.
Up or down? she wondered. She’s causing an earthquake, so…basement?
Spotting an elevator around a corner, she ran to it. She pried the doors open and peered into the shaft—the car was a few floors up, but she didn’t care about that. Looking down, she counted a basement and a subbasement. Kristen jumped down.
She hit the bottom in a three-point landing and felt the impact in every bone in her body. She hated the feeling, knowing it meant she was getting tired. Even if she managed to stop Delphi, there was so much more left to do. There was still Nenet. There was still Emma.
Kristen pried the doors open.
The elevator opened to a chamber bathed in candlelight. Dust thrown aloft by the shaking of the earth made the candles seem to glow brighter, wide halos around them. The candles were arranged in a ring. At their center stood a woman Kristen knew to be Delphi even though she’d never seen her before: a middle-aged blonde in jeans and a t-shirt, thin and wrinkled beyond her years, one hand held parallel with the earth. Delphi spoke two words. “Stop her.”
Young women poured out of every corner of the room: from behind old machinery, from behind racks of storage, and from the shadows. Kristen’s eyes flicked from one to the next, trying to count them. She lost count quickly; their appearance distracted her. They looked like clones, every one of them identical, covered in blood, gore, and filth, hair caked to their necks and faces. None wore clothes. None were armed. Their blue eyes glowed like neon from within. Kristen couldn’t help it. “What the fuck?” she asked.
“We are the daughters of Delphi,” they spoke in unison. “We won’t let you interfere with her vision.”
Kristen stepped out of the elevator on shaking limbs. The doors slid shut behind her. “That isn’t literal, is it? You’re not covered in placenta, are you? Because what the fuck.”
All at once, they stepped toward her. They formed ranks ten wide, three deep. Thirty? The number hit Kristen with wonder. Thirty of them?
Delphi spoke from behind them. Her hand trembled as she held it aloft. Kristen noticed it shook in time with the earth itself. The howling outside grew to a fever pitch. “You won’t believe me—the Templars never believe—but I do this for the greater good. When I first joined them, it’s because I thought they were the only people in this world who would recognize a threat to us all. In the end, they were as blind as any other. Blind, or willfully ignorant. I’m sure you’ve been told I can read minds. I doubt they told you I can see what’s to come, too.”
“What, like the future?” Kristen slipped into a poor excuse for a fighting stance; she knew no martial art. Her eyes roamed up and down the line of Daughters, trembling at the sight. Could she get through them? She guessed she could. But with so many, she’d have to kill them, hard and brutal.
“The Earth is alive, Maiden. It’s a slumbering beast. You hear it, don’t you? It’s become restless, on the brink of waking. We walk upon its cage. The cage has weakened. The beast howls in its nightmare. When it wakes, it will be angry. That is what I’ve seen. Yes, what I do now will destroy this city. When it is destroyed, I will move on. All will be laid to ruin. Many will die. But in the end, the cage will be stronger, and humanity will survive.”
Ridiculous. But…
Kristen bounced on her heels, readying herself for a fight, trying to flush out the aches and stiffness from earlier. “What about the promises you made? Bringing Gifted people into the light? Giving Todd a kingdom? Why act so shady if you’re doing something good?”
“I’m not hiding that many will die. I fear most will die in my labors, in fact. Someone will need to maintain order among the ruins so we may rebuild. Only the Gifted have what it takes to unite humanity after all has fallen.”
A chunk of stone fell from the ceiling as the earth trembled. In an instant, the shaking intensified, storage racks shuddering across the floor.
Do something, Kristen. You can’t keep talking. You have to stop this.
&nb
sp; Delphi sighed audibly. “I suggest you leave, Maiden. You have delusions of heroism. You won’t murder my daughters to get to me, and knowing the price of the good we set out to do, you won’t join me. You’re at an impasse. Leave now, and when the world is ablaze and cries out for you, then you can join me and pretend you’re on the right side again.”
Kristen spat a curse and shuffled forward, poised to strike. The Daughters narrowed their eyes in unison and took a step to meet her. Kristen froze, then shuffled back. She’d killed people already; why was this such a problem? She tried to puzzle it out as she stared down the Daughters. Was it because she’d only killed changelings so far? She wasn’t sure; she didn’t know they were changelings when she’d killed them. She tried to jog her memory for a body count, searching for dead humans to justify what she needed to do. Somehow, she thought doing it once might make it easier to do again. Then she wondered why the changelings didn’t count. Why did that make a difference? They were alive, they surely had thoughts, feelings, loved ones…
If I kill these people, I might save the world.
It would be for the greater good.
That’s what Delphi said. She’s doing this for the greater good.
Kristen shook her head. “There has to be a better way. If you aren’t full of shit, and there’s some thing coming, isn’t there a better way to handle it than kill everybody? I mean, what’s the point? We might as well let this thing kill everyone if you’re doing it anyway.”
“The Templars never understand. My sweet daughters, if she won’t leave on her own, be rid of her.”
The Daughters of Delphi charged like wild animals. Kristen shuffled away and put her back to the elevator doors. Her heart pounding, she struck at them as they came. A fist sent one sailing away. Another blow drove one down to the ground. They pressed her back as a single larger creature, pinning her to the elevator doors. They clung to her legs. Their hands grasped her arms, but she pulled away. Kristen grabbed them one by one and threw them off like ragdolls, panic rising. Adrenaline said nothing about fight—only flight—and she had to override instinct to stop the Daughters from pinning her down. Their nails scraped at her skin, and were Kristen not gifted, she knew they’d be peeling away her flesh layer by layer. Fingers tangled in Kristen’s hair and tried to pull her to the ground. Kristen punched down and felt the Daughter’s nose collapse under her fist with a gout of blood. More arms wrapped around her—around her legs, her waist, her shoulders—and she held herself upright with every ounce of strength she could muster, afraid of that tangle of bloody, gore-slicked limbs. She realized she was screaming. She couldn’t stop.