"He won't get you," Jake swore. "When—this is done, and you're in the crystal, we'll get you out. We'll keep your knowledge safe." What you died for will not be lost.
"You do not understand," she said, half closing her eyes in a smile. "My knowledge must be preserved—but so must Ulrezaj be stopped."
Jake stared at her, uncomprehending. "What do you mean? Do— do you want to get back into my head? Stop the transference?"
"No, it is too late for that. My essence is already in the crystal." Humor washed through him, shy, almost girlish. He had never thought of her as girlish, but this, too, was a part of her as much as her strength, will, and occasional acerbity. "I simply did not want to say farewell until I had to. Life is sweet, Jacob. Protoss or terran, we share that."
"I don't understand." What was she getting at. "Didn't you just tell me you were going to make it through this okay? Well—as okay as you can be?"
"I...had thought so. But now—Jacob, I believe I might be able to stop him once and for all."
"How?"
"The Alys'aril is constructed above one of the strongest energetic nexuses of this world. There is a nest of power here, it is why the site was chosen."
He nodded. This much he knew.
"Ulrezaj is just outside the Alys'aril. So are his adversaries— once again, zerg and terran fight together to destroy a monster who is our common enemy."
So, Ethan and Valerian had followed the dark archon. Jake's thoughts started to race—if Ulrezaj was indeed defeated, they would need to fight both Valerian's forces and the zerg. They would—
A gentle remonstrance brought his attention back to her words. "Time enough to deal with that once Ulrezaj is defeated," Zamara chided. "The three factions fight outside, but their battle will not be won there. It will be won here, inside your mind, inside the khaydarin crystal that contains what is left of me and all the memories I have stored."
"What?"
"Ulrezaj has recovered much of his strength. My guess is that this world—these energies that make the crystals what they are—are what has helped fuel him all this time. He was once a student here; here he was born, in a very real sense. And here, he must cease to be. The selfsame energies that created the monster can give me the abilities to harness him."
Jake thought he was starting to understand what she intended to do. The cold prickle of apprehension crept over him. He prayed he was wrong.
"You think...we can trap him in a crystal, like we're doing with you?"
"Not quite, Jacob. I intend to use a crystal to contain him, yes. But not one like the one that holds me."
Understanding crashed on him like an avalanche, and even deep into his link with Zamara, he felt his physical body twitch in protest.
"Oh no.. .Zamara, you can't—"
"I believe I can. If this crystal is powerful enough to contain not only my knowledge but my essence.. .1 might be able to utilize its powers and those of the nexus to encase him within it. Also, it should serve as a sufficiently strong prison for Ulrezaj. At the very least, I must make the attempt."
Zamara, for the good of her people, was going to spend an eternity imprisoned with a dark archon. He couldn't let her.
"No, Zamara, I will not permit you to do this. Hey!" He lifted his head to the utterly fictitious skies and yelled without a voice. "Hey!Don't let her!"
"Jacob—it is what must be done. I have ever served my people the best I knew how. If Ulrezaj is not contained, he will destroy me, you, Rosemary, every protoss here, and the Alys'aril and all the information it houses. I have done so much to keep the memories with which I have been entrusted safe."
"You think they'll be safe with—with that trapped in with them? What do you think he'll do to those memories? God, Zamara, what do you think he'll do to you?"
"It does not matter. I must stop him, and this is the only option I have. Jacob—please, you must release me now. You must let me do this. If you do not, you could be trapped with us."
"I don't care!" he cried recklessly, realizing he spoke the truth. He wanted to live—he wanted to be with Rosemary, to continue to explore and learn, to feel the sun on his face and taste food and run and laugh and make love. But he could not abandon Zamara. Maybe, if he were trapped with her, he could help somehow.
"No. I have damaged you sufficiently. It is time for me to go, Jacob. To leave the mind I should never have been forced to enter in the first place. I will not take you with me."
"Zamara—"
Zamara half closed her eyes and tilted her head, smiling at him a final time. A whisper in his mind, of affection, and faith in him.
He felt her extend herself, reaching out and at the same time somehow pushing him away. Once, she had descended into his mind so decisively it had been more than he could bear. Now Jake didn't want her to leave, didn't want her to sacrifice herself to—God, he couldn't even wrap his mind around an eternity with Ulrezaj as part of him. He fought her, but hers was the stronger will. When she finally pulled free, he cried her name sharply, feeling lost and abandoned and so very empty. "Zamara!"
She was gone.
Blackness descended.
The mammoth dark being froze. Rosemary frowned and kept peering through the sights. What was going on? The mutalisks and various Dominion craft continued strafing him, but he simply... stood? Sat?.. .right where he was. Suddenly Ulrezaj's mass quivered and spasmed, extending an arm of darkness here, bulging out there, as if something was inside a sack and struggling, kicking, flailing tt?00 get out. Her hair and skin prickled suddenly and her gut clenched as energy crackled around her, intense enough to feel but not powerful enough to incinerate or harm. Slowly, she lowered the rifle, staring.
An eerie wail erupted and even she winced. Some of the Dominion vessels backed off, spooked by the strange motions of the dark archon and the ear-splitting cry he was emitting. The zerg kept coming, and this time, Ulrezaj did not repulse them. He simply stood, and they milled around him, doing no damage but clearly also not taking any.
"What the hell..." she murmured.
There was a flash of darkness from Ulrezaj so intense it was almost like a bright light. Rosemary gasped and squeezed her eyes shut for a second, then willed them to open.
Ulrezaj was gone.
She wasted perhaps half a second wondering what had happened, then a predator's grin split her face. In a single smooth movement she'd positioned herself behind a protective pillar, hoisted the gauss rifle, and began firing into the swirling morass of flesh and carapace that was the zerg.
She'd take down as many as possible, glorying in finally being able to destroy something that richly needed destroying.
And then she'd do the same to their leader.
Ethan could not believe it. He didn't know what had happened, and frankly, did not care. Grinning a very human grin, with a thought he effortlessly redirected what was left of the zerg toward the two remaining foes. He was glad that he was no longer forced to fight alongside protoss and terrans—zerg should destroy them, not cooperate with them. Zerg were the superior race, as his queen had said and as he believed. He would prove this to her, prove his worth and loyalty, by bringing her the thing she sought.
Surely whatever arcane little ritual the protoss were doing to separate Zamara from the professor's body was done by now. At the very least, he would move toward the Alys'aril so that he would be in position to snatch the prize before the terrans could claim it.
He had brought many zerg with him to Aiur, but Ulrezaj had decreased their numbers. He had further decimated them here, and Ethan felt the faintest twinge of worry as he glanced up at the skies, dark with ships. No. He was so close. He would not permit worry to distract him.
The disciplines, both mental and physical, with which he had honed his body as a mere human were every bit as strong now as they were then. He called upon them, focused his attention to laser-sharpness, and directed his subjects.
There—a single human female, hiding behind a pillar, firing at the z
erg that were converging on the temple. A smile twisted his mouth. Good old Trouble. He'd have to put an end to her this time, and he was sorry in the abstract about that. But it gave him not a moment's hesitation as he trained an entire group of zerglings and hydralisks in her direction, like he'd sic a dog on an intruder.
"Bye-bye, Trouble," he said, watching as they surged up the steps to the courtyard. They were almost within range, and he saw the hydralisks lift their carapaces to expose their razor-sharp spines. They let loose a volley, but Rosemary had seen it coming and interposed the pillar between the spines falling around her like javelins and her smooth, unarmored skin. She peeked around to fire and two of them dropped. Two, out of dozens.
No pillar would protect her from the claws, fangs, and sickles of the zerglings, who were almost on her. She had to know that, even as she fired, and he felt the respect he'd always had for her one final time before her death.
Then the little pack of zerg seemed to explode. Blood, ichor, and flesh went high into the air, raining down in pulpy fragments. It took a fraction of a second for Ethan to realize that one of the small terran vessels had hovered like a hawk just in time to fire dozens of rounds of cluster rockets into their center. Two zerglings managed to escape mostly intact, and, oozing fluid in a sluglike trail behind them, struggled to get to Rosemary. She dispatched them both swiftly, and lifted her dark head.
She seemed to stare right at Ethan.
The small fighter continued to hover protectively above her, and Ethan swore. Valerian had no doubt issued orders to guard his pet assassin. No matter. He'd get her later.
He was distracted by movement in another part of the courtyard. A protoss had suddenly emerged. He realized it was the one he had spoken with earlier, who had seemed to agree to his demands if he would only wait until the ritual was completed. Ethan growled softly. He should have known better—likely the whole story aboutthe "delicate ritual" was a lie to buy time. He wanted to see this Executor Selendis ripped to pieces, too, and with a jerk of his hairless head another pack suddenly pulled itself from fighting the Dominion ground troops to tear off toward Selendis.
She met them halfway, leaping from the courtyard into the fray. Ethan could appreciate good fighting, and he knew what he was seeing was magnificent. Glowing blue blades erupted from Selendis's wrists and she whirled and almost danced as she fought. Her bright armor glinted in the merciless sunlight, the glare bright enough to make Ethan wince and probably harsh enough to be a weapon on its own at close range. Selendis dispatched two zerglings almost instantly, then turned on a third. The hydralisks fired a volley of spikes. Selendis cocked her head, as if listening, then leaped and flipped in midair. Her blades moved so swiftly they were a blur, and Ethan realized that she'd been fast enough to simply not be there when the spines reached her, and had sliced to pieces those she couldn't elude.
He debated sending in the "bigger guns" of his zerg army, but they were having a tough enough time holding off the Dominion attacks. Ethan realized that he was letting his emotions get the better of him. This must not become a personal battle, if he was to win it for his queen. He would leave Rosemary and Selendis to the lesser zerg; even a girl who was an expert with a rifle and a protoss executor would eventually fall.
Even as he turned his head, two battlecruisers began attacking the guardians that were spewing acid on the strange new units that were wreaking havoc on the zerg. He watched them for a moment, enough of a good sport to admire the technology. Small, sleek little vessels with sporty red trim, they came almost to ground before the wings retracted, legs extended, and the ship became a ground unit to be reckoned with. Ethan shrugged. Impressive—but once they were on the ground, the ships were easy targets for the guardians. He pulled two more in and directed them at the robot/vessels.
Valerian was not going to win this one.
Rosemary glanced up only briefly. If she had guardian angels in the forms of Dominion ships sent to protect her, then it was a fallen angel named Valerian who'd sent them. If he wanted her alive, he likely wanted something from her. Well, hell, if he was going to put his resources to saving her, then she was going to do what she burned to do.
She left the comparative safety of the pillar and raced down the steps, slipping and almost falling on zerg guts. She recovered, leaping the rest of the way to land firmly on the hard-baked earth. Rosemary had seen Ethan, flying out of harm's way on a mutalisk. She looked up at the ships overhead, waved, and pointed, then took off at full speed.
Ethan should have been harder to take down, she thought as the ships raced ahead and began bombarding him. The mutalisk screamed in agony, a horrible, screeching sound, and flailed before dropping like a stone. The ships continued to fire on the writhing zerg and its passenger.
Kerrigan saw it happen through Ethan's eyes, and sighed. She'd spent so much effort in creating him, had had such high hopes. As his body was riddled with metal, as he twitched and spasmed in agony, she experienced not a little regret. But there was nothing she could do. The task had been his to complete, and he had failed, and now he would die.
"My... queen..." he gasped in her mind.
She sent him the equivalent of a pat on the cheek, and then, unmoved by his wail of betrayal and shock, pulled out of his brain.
Still, she mused, the experiment had worked. She would simply have to create a new consort at some later date. One that would hopefully survive his first real challenge.
"Damn it!" Rosemary scowled as she ran, hoping there'd be enough left of Ethan for her to personally dispatch. The ships backed off as she entered their targeting range, unwilling to strike her.
He was still alive. She skidded to a halt and caught her breath, picking her way swiftly but carefully to avoid the pools of acid that some of the dead zerg had left as a final attack. Ethan hadn't been so lucky. His mount had fallen into one of these pools, and where he wasn't scorched, the acid was eating through him.
He did not scream, though he must have been in terrible pain. Rosemary respected that. She regarded him for a moment as he writhed in front of her.
"Huh," she said, casually. "I'd have thought a whole bunch of zerg would be coming to you right now, to spirit you away for healing."
Ethan propped himself up on one arm and one scythe-arm. His legs were pools of liquid flesh. The tendons on his neck stood out like cables as he tried to control his pain. But the look in his eyes gave him away. Rosemary raised an eyebrow; she'd never seen such anguish. And she knew it wasn't physical, either.
"Wait, let me guess. Your connection to the zerg has been severed, hasn't it?"
His silence confirmed it.
"Wow. Nice queen you've got there, huh? Drops you the minute you need a little help from her. Looks like you're just as expendable as the next zerg, Ethan."
"No!" The word was ripped from his throat. "She will not abandon me...." The protest turned into a harsh sob. "My queen... Kerrigan..."
Rosemary grinned and made a mock tsk-ing sound of sympathy. "And so you die betrayed. Hooray for appropriate ironies, you son of a bitch."
She lifted her rifle, slowly, so he could watch her, and took careful aim.
A sudden golden-blue blur interposed itself between Rosemary and her prey. Before Rosemary could react, Ethan lay lifeless before her, his head severed from his body, the flesh cauterized by a psi blade. Selendis stood before her.
"What the hell do you think you're doing!" Rosemary shrieked.
"Protecting you," the executor replied calmly.
Rosemary let loose a string of oaths. "Protecting me? You robbed me of my kill! He was all but dead! I didn't need protecting from anything!"
"I did not protect you from what Kerrigan left of Ethan Stewart," Selendis said in that oh so irritatingly quiet mental voice. "I protected you from slaughtering out of hate. We are warriors, you and I. We must sometimes take lives. But we should do so because it is necessary. Not because we enjoy it. It is my fervent hope that after this moment, you will never again ha
ve to slay with hatred in your heart."
Beneath the resentment, the anger, the shock of feeling cheated, beneath the hate that did still surge fiercely inside her, a part of Rosemary understood.
"I'll give you a piece of my mind later," Rosemary said, then winced at how literally that could be taken. "For now, we've got to stop the zerg—and then Valerian."
Selendis nodded, and together the executor of the templar and a terran assassin sprang into the fray.
CHAPTER 22
JAKE BLINKED AWAKE, TEARS WET ON HIS FACE. For a moment, he was disoriented. He felt as though he had forgotten something very important, lost it or misplaced it—and stared blankly up at the protoss faces peering down on him. And it was then that he realized what had happened.
Zamara was gone. She was no longer anywhere to be found in his mind or thoughts. For a second, he thought he would be sick, so overwhelming was her absence. Four-fingered hands, strong but gentle, closed on his arms, slipped under his body and eased him to a sitting position.
"She's gone," Jake gasped, reaching to clutch Krythkal's robe. "She—"
"We know," came the thought in his head. At least he could still understand them. But he felt like an amputee. God, were humans really this...alone?
Krythkal lifted his hand. Resting in his palm was the crystal that Jake had given him before the ritual had begun—the crystal that he, Rosemary, Alzadar, Ladranix, and all the others had found deep in the labyrinthine heart of Aiur. Then, it had been luminous, clear... clean. Now Jake stared at the crystal fragment. Its hue was now dark, yet still glowing somehow with a sullen purple-black hue. Something swirled inside it, and there was the occasional spark of brightness that surged forward only to submerge again.
Jake took it gingerly. He had always had difficulty holding the crystal before. It had emanated a power that gradually would hurt if he held it too long. But that pain was somehow cleansing, scouring. Something too strong for him to hold or wield, yes, but not hostile.
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