by Steve Vera
The whine of a bullet sliced through the air, and Asmodeous’s head rocked back. Where once his left eye glared amber, now was a snuffed explosion of yellowish jelly. Another bullet zipped through the night and this time smashed right into Asmodeous’s mouth, which was still open. Thick gouts of blood poured out.
Skip!
No. The police chief was still on the patio facedown; the gunshot had come from somewhere else, lost in the strobe-light sky.
Asmodeous stumbled back, face slack, like a boxer going down, and tumbled into the light. He vanished.
The abrupt change from doom to hope was brain-rattling. Tarsidion and Noah looked around with equal bewilderment, and Amanda’s eyes were wide and glazed—death’s shadow still clung to her. It was only when her eyes connected with Gavin’s that the fear was kicked out of the way by unadulterated joy.
She launched herself at him. “We’re still alive!” she yelled.
Gavin caught her perfectly, and though she nearly knocked him over, their bodies intertwined so quickly that it seemed as if they’d always been attached together. Like a tree.
Most of what she said was hidden between her sobs, but “I thought I was dead,” and “I love you” were halfway discernable, as well as “you’re still alive.” She chanted them into his shoulder.
“Please tell me you’re all right,” Gavin said, pulling back far enough so that he could look at her. His hands were sticky from the blood across her back where Deos’s claws had gripped her.
“What happened? I thought…”
“I don’t know, baby.” Gavin looked around again; Tarsy and Noah were holding each other up as they made their way to them. Gavin disengaged from Amanda, and the two joined them.
“Did you do that?” Noah asked him.
Gavin shook his head and looked at Tarsidion, who also shook his head. “I don’t know, but I’m not complaining.”
“It was Donovan,” Amanda said, positive despite her lack of evidence. Only a psychopath like him would have the cojones to stalk the Lord of the Underworld. “It’s the only thing that makes sense.”
“But why?” Gavin asked, looking around and putting his hand to the hilt of a Quaranai that was not there. His attention went to the doorway. Now that the portal was open, there seemed to be a lull to the lightning and thunder raging around them. The eye of the storm. Amanda’s face was still swollen and the purple-yellow bruise mottled her face, but she’d never looked more beautiful. And alive.
“Why doesn’t he show himself?” Tarsidion asked. He stepped back and cupped his mouth with both hands. “Show yourself!”
Nothing.
“Look, Stavengre,” Noah whispered, edging toward the gateway. She stuck her hand into the rich, golden light emanating from the circle and shuddered as if some phantom lover penetrated her. She gasped and smiled blissfully.
Tarsidion followed her lead and reached into the radiance and before them all the hatchet angles of his face were melted by the smile that transformed him. He tipped his head back, took in a deep breath and howled. Gavin gave one last battle-crazed, dumbfounded, ferocious look at the night but then succumbed to the call of magic…of home. Forgetting all the horror around him, he indulged himself and stuck his hand into the luminance, chest so tight he could hardly breathe. Instantly his hand was bathed in a sort of warmth as indescribable as the scent of a childhood home. Hypnotized, he pushed the rest of his arm in, his leg and finally his head. Somewhere behind him he heard a voice call his name but his eyes were riveted, his attention consumed by the sight on the other side of reality. Through the Black Veil.
Home.
Somebody yanked him back. Amanda. Gavin suppressed the flare of anger that washed irrationally through him and focused on hugging her back, at murmuring soothingly into her ear and wiping at the blood welling through her torn top from the wounds of Deos’s claws.
“Look!” Noah whispered, pointing. “It’s home. We’re going home!”
Beyond the circle of light, like a picture that was alive, they saw a forest of pale-wood trees bursting with blossoms, aside a river of brilliant water and verdant hills, beckoning from the other side of reality.
“Any place you know?” he asked Noah in English, gazing into the portal.
“Nope,” she said with a beatific smile. “But it’s home.”
The angles returned to Tarsidion’s face as he opened his eyes. He looked at each of them and in a moment, the bliss was gone from his eyes, replaced by grave purpose. The worst-case scenario had just transpired. “Asmodeous has returned to Theia. The world must be warned.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
The four of them sloshed through the grass as quickly as their exhausted legs would allow them, toward Jack’s twisted body.
“My dear Juekovelin,” Noah murmured, kneeling beside their brethren, somehow audible through the crash of rain that had begun to pour once again.
The carnage that used to be Jack’s face was thankfully turned away from them. Gavin didn’t want to see. Didn’t want to be haunted. He unclasped the broach to his cloak and gently spread it over Jack’s body. A dark puddle instantly began to spread through where it met his face.
“Noah, go see to Skip. Tarsy—” Gavin shook his head and closed his eyes, denying the tears that demanded to fall. “Bring Jack to the circle. He’s coming home with us.”
Tarsidion stood, looking down listlessly over his best friend’s cloak-shrouded corpse—eyes clouded and distant with pain, mouth partly open—but he gave Gavin a single, slight nod.
“Amanda, with me.”
His fiancée was chewing her bottom lip, eyes wide and smudged with black circles. She was still holding the empty AK-47. He took her by the hand, and together they sloshed toward the Bastion.
“That was one of the bravest things I’ve ever seen,” he said, eyes forward.
“You’re leaving,” she answered numbly, ignoring his observation.
He paused for a fraction of a second but the momentum of his body kept him moving. “Yes,” he finally said.
“Can I come?”
This time he did stop. He could hear Skip moaning softly from the cobblestone patio not twenty feet away. He looked at her swollen, battered face and into her eyes. “No.”
She flinched. “Why?” she demanded softly, the glazed look in her eyes evaporating.
He placed his hands gently on her arms. “Amanda, I’ve fantasized so many times of what it would be like to bring you to my home, to show you where I grew up. The Shardyn Temple, all the splendors of magic and Valis and the Everwillow and…” He sighed. “I want that so badly I’m tempted to just say screw it, but…” A shadow loomed over his thoughts. “The war has resumed.”
“I don’t care. It can’t be any worse than what I’ve just seen.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, baby. It’s going to get much worse, especially if we don’t stop him from getting to the Pale Gate.”
She gave him a puzzled look. “I don’t understand.”
“The doorway between the Underworld and the Overworld. If he gets there, he’ll unleash the Drynn. His minions. My world as I know it will end.”
“Then I’ll fight alongside you. Look,” she said, holding up the assault rifle. “I hate guns.”
“Are you guys going to just argue, or are you going to help me out over here?” Skip groaned from the patio.
Despite the intensity of their conversation, they both shared a brief, sheepish smile. They ran to him.
“What are you doing still alive?” Gavin asked, kneeling beside his new friend.
“I think I’m allergic to
death,” Skip said, squinting against the brilliance of the night—the crimson-sulfur moonbeam spearing through the atmosphere, as well as the brilliant displays of lightning that still shattered the sky, although with less intensity. He looked at the end of the Drynnian spur protruding from his chest. “Ow.”
“That’s twice you should be dead,” Noah said, joining them, taking a knee by Skip. She delicately probed his wound and seemed happy for an excuse to do something besides mourn.
“Story of my life. Another damn chest wound. I don’t think it penetrated far, maybe a centimeter or so. I think it was already broken.” He tried to prop himself up to his elbows but then howled. “Yow! My ass!”
“Be still,” Noah said, investigating further. “You have electrical burns as well.”
“Great,” he said and eased himself back down onto the bricks.
While Noah tended Skip, Gavin went to Cirena. Amanda followed. Cirena lay exactly where they’d left her, arms crossed over her breastplate, shrouded in her cloak, lying on a mattress of pillows. He ran the backs of his fingers across her cheek. Soon you’ll be home.
“Her skin is cold,” Amanda said, holding her hand.
A network of blue veins and spidery thin arteries etched across her alabaster skin. Cirena’s breaths were shallow and watery.
“I’ve got to get her to the doorway,” Gavin said. “If you have the strength, start lugging these bags to the circle. The doorway will only be open for a couple more minutes—we need to bring everything we can.”
At that, Gavin slid his arms under Cirena’s mailed body and lifted. Or tried to. He got her about waist level and then crumpled. That’s not going to happen. With her armor, she must have weighed at least two hundred and fifty pounds, probably more than he could lift even on a good day. Tarsidion would be needed.
Exhilarated, heartbroken and filled with dread, Gavin released Cirena and instead picked up two of the three camping racks brimming with sleeping bags, tents and supplies, then slung them over his armored shoulders. Amanda took the third. Silently, the two of them slogged to the circle. There was so much to say and no time to say it. Tarsidion sat slumped on his knees by Jack’s body until he saw them coming, when he then stood and made his way toward them.
“Go get Cirena,” Gavin said as Tarsidion offered a hand. “We’ve got these. Go!”
The big man nodded grimly and went loping back to the patio. Ahead of them, the doorway to Theia shimmered in a mist of colors as the rain met the sun…a dome of rainbow.
“I’m coming with you, Gavin. ’Til death do us part, remember?”
We’re not married, he thought but remained silent. The temptation once again to bring her to Theia came quick and sudden, like a slap across the face, but the screams of Alyssandra being snatched into the forest echoed in his mind, Lucian’s headless body slumping before him, the thousands of carcasses and wounded, the moans, the stench…over his dead body would Amanda ever be exposed to such things.
“You’re not coming.” He could see the slight tilt in her head, the edge of determination in her stare. Gavin hardened his face. “You’d just slow us down.”
Her flinch broke his heart, but he kept his face an iron mask.
“And what about Donovan?” she asked. “He’s still out there.”
Gavin flared his nostrils. “If I had the luxury of time, I’d hunt him down and put him in a body cast for laying a finger on you, for Ray, but…” He stared up at the moon. “I don’t. If he wanted us dead, he would have let Deos kill us.”
“How can you be sure?”
“I’m not. What I am sure about is if that doorway closes and we’re still here, my world goes to ashes.”
He glanced at the Bastion and saw Skip up on his feet, arms around Noah’s shoulders like an injured football player being helped off the field. Tarsidion walked beside them with Cirena in his arms. Gavin pretended he couldn’t see the pain in Amanda’s eyes.
“Noah, you’re with me,” he said as soon as they got there. “Tarsy, you’re rear guard. Bring Cirena, Jack and whatever supplies you can and—” He switched to their native tongue. “No matter what she says, do not let her come. Got that?”
“Hey,” Amanda said over the rain. “English.”
Gavin kept his attention on Tarsidion until he got a nod. He did. “Amanda,” he said and took a deep, centering breath. “You’re going to get in my car and drive to the nearest police station.”
“And tell them what?”
“No.” Skip dug into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, where the star of his badge reflected Gavin’s Theian sun. He took out a card. “Go to this guy and this guy only,” he said, pushing it into her hand. “His name is Special Agent Ahanatou. He’s FBI. Tell only him.”
Amanda accepted the card tentatively, as if she were in a waking dream.
Gavin had no idea who Ahanatou was, but he trusted Skip. Above them, the spear of light was waning, its diameter shrinking. He turned to his Noah. “Ready?”
Haunted, exhausted, full of despair, there was nevertheless a glint in her eye. “More now than ever.”
Tarsidion lay Cirena down gently on the wet grass. “One more pack,” he said and jogged back toward the Bastion.
Now came the terrible part. He turned to Amanda. Her brows moved across her forehead as she grappled with a reality that came too fast, and finally she covered her face with her hands as if she could block out reality. It wasn’t often that the human face was beautiful when contorted to crying, but hers was. Everything about her was beautiful. Each tear that spilled under her palm and mixed with the rain was more precious than a bag of diamonds. Try as he might, he couldn’t stop his own.
She took her hands away from her face suddenly and straightened her back. Their eyes met. Lifetimes were exchanged. She buckled a moment and began to cry again, but composed herself just as quickly and kissed him. Her lips were soft, slightly parted so she could press the moist, inner part of her mouth against his. She gently sucked in his lips, ran the tip of her tongue against his upper lip and then pulled away. Her lips were salty with tears.
“I’ll never forget you,” she whispered in a sob and then pushed him away.
“Onaste’ nya elutom,” he said in his native tongue and then translated. “Ever shall you live in my heart.” It was an old saying from his homeland, spawned from a story about a man who left his love to go to war. Seemed fitting.
She stepped back, still crying, and joined Skip. She buried her head in his side and he covered her with his arm, protecting her from the rain.
Noah waited by the edge of the Circle of Elements. Her face was inscrutable, sunlight dancing off opaque orbs that served as her eyes.
“Don’t forget Jack’s spices,” she said, pointing to Tarsidion. “Or his gold and jewels. He would have a fit. Stavengre?”
Gavin closed his eyes for a full second. When he opened them, he was simply Shardyn. With a duty to fulfill. In his hands were two Quaranai, one Lucian’s, the other Jack’s. Both of them were black. His own Quaranai was still stuck in the ground, keeping the Black Veil at bay.
He walked through the dome of rainbow colors and stood by Noah’s side. Together they peered through the door and saw a forest in bloom, brilliant water and verdant hills waiting for them, beckoning them.
He looked back one last time. Amanda’s eyes were like two brimming ponds, her arms crossed across her chest in a vain attempt to ward off the pain that was about to come, and then he mouthed the truest words he’d ever felt. I love you.
An
d then he and Noah jumped into the light.
*
The wind seemed to come from six angles at once. Amanda was hardly aware of it. She stared numbly, arms crossed over her chest at the world shining in front of her, where Gavin had disappeared forever.
“This hurts like a bitch,” Skip said, rubbing his chest gingerly.
The two stared at the freak of nature before them as if it were a campfire. Forbidden by Tarsidion to get any closer, Amanda and Skip were privy to the sunlight but not to what it revealed. She glanced at her companion. It looked like it hurt, like he had a knife sticking in his chest. Evidently, if he took it out of his chest he might bleed to death.
“How did you get mixed up in all this anyway?” Amanda asked, rubbing her hands over her arms in a vain attempt to ward off the cold.
Skip stared thoughtfully at the entrance to an upside-down heaven. The silky blackness surrounding the Quaranai made a constant whipping sound. “Rufus,” he finally answered. He offered nothing more, and she didn’t inquire. It sounded complicated.
The moon no longer resembled anything natural. Although it was disappearing to the other side of the world now, three quarters remained, and a slender ray of light continued to beam through the clouds like a phaser from some rogue starship. It wouldn’t be there much longer, though. The moon was leaving.
Neither one of them mentioned the dead body of Jack Nyx, not ten feet away from them. On one hand, it seemed sacrilegious not to somehow honor this fallen knight who’d she’d known for less than a day, but on the other, there was something frightening about the way the cloak over his body dipped unnaturally by his face.
Off near the courtyard, she could see Tarsidion’s massive silhouette gathering the last of this world to bring to theirs. Beside them, on Skip’s side, Cirena lay on her back, arms crossed over her chest in a position that Amanda was told meant she was in a healing trance.