by Ryan Dalton
With a flick of his wrist, Lucius ripped open Malcolm’s front pocket to reveal the pocket watch. Malcolm snatched at in desperation. No no no no! Lucius smacked his face, sending stars across his vision, and stood with the prize in his hand.
Malcolm lurched to his knees and reached out for the watch as Lucius backed away, examining it with affection.
“Thank you for guarding this for me,” he said with a hint of irony. “However, the time has come—”
A pair of hands latched onto Lucius’s shoulders from behind, and then he was flying. Like a rag doll, he tumbled across the hall and through a doorway, skidding into the sitting room until he crashed into a coffee table. He came to rest in a heap.
Valentine stood in his place, red hair flying. “You okay?”
Malcolm nodded, unsure what to say.
“He’s mine!” she growled, and sprinted toward their adversary.
Malcolm could only stare after her.
He’s stronger. He’s faster. He’s smarter. Attack and don’t stop, keep him on the defensive!
Already he’d untangled from the table and risen. Valentine charged forward and leaped into a front handspring. Her pointed toes drilled Lucius in the chest, and he stumbled back a step.
She leaped again and swung fast, smashing his eye, then crunching against his nose. Drawing back again, she struck toward his throat.
He smacked her fist to the side and lashed out with an uppercut to the stomach. Thunder exploded through her body as she lifted off the floor.
Vengeance fueling her, Valentine cracked her fist against Lucius’s temple, feigned a left hook and brought a knee into his gut. As he bent forward with a gasp, she drove her forehead into his nose.
Lucius fell backward and snapped a spin kick against her neck. Rolling with the strike, she tumbled to the floor and cartwheeled to her feet again. The entire side of her head throbbed, and she forced air into her tired lungs. Keep going keep going!
Snatching up a marble figurine, she flung it toward Lucius and dashed in behind the makeshift projectile. While he dodged to the side, her fist came around and bashed into his ribcage. Her wrist and knuckles went numb like she’d punched a brick wall.
He struck like a cobra, catching her twice between the eyes. Valentine’s head snapped back, and her vision quaked. She stumbled back and threw a desperate kick. Smacking it to the side, Lucius pressed forward and boxed her ears. Flashes of light and pain burst in her head.
Planting her feet, she swung hard through the disorientation, fists hitting nothing but air. Lucius twitched and the force of a mountain crushed against her chest. A kick caught the side of her leg, and she fell hard to one knee. Another shot blasted her temple, and she crumpled to her hands and knees.
Dark edges crept into her vision. Don’t stop! Don’t go down! Valentine lurched to her feet and lashed out wildly. Please, let me just . . .
Impossibly strong hands wrapped around her from behind. Her arms were pinned to their sides, and she felt Lucius’s breath on her neck.
“It doesn’t have to happen like this,” he said through heavy breaths.
Her vision cleared, and she realized with despair that the pocket watch was in his hand. The air chilled, and a blue energy bubble enveloped them. She struggled against his iron grip.
“There’s another way!” he insisted, holding her fast. “Just for you.”
“What are you talking about?”
“My admiration for you was never false. You are so rare a talent, Valentine, that I have altered my plan to include you. Simply help me succeed here, and I will bring you to my time as my student.”
Valentine snorted and kicked his shin.
Lucius gripped her tighter. “There are wonders there, such that you could never imagine them. However, if that is not to your liking, I have another bargain.”
Outside the bubble, Fred’s living room disappeared and scene after scene went flashing by. She wasn’t sure how she knew, but the sensation of a shift told her somehow—they were moving backward in time.
“Here we are,” Lucius whispered.
They stopped in a small room with two cribs, golden light and gentle breezes pouring in from an open window. A pale woman danced and laughed along with the babies she clutched to each hip. Her yellow sundress twirled out from her lithe form as she spun on pointed toes. Long red hair floated around her bright, sparkling eyes.
Valentine’s heart seized. “Mom?”
Chapter 26
Fred gritted his teeth and squeezed harder while Winter wrenched Ulrich’s ankle. He twisted and bucked, his superior strength battling against their leverage.
“Tell me where Patrick Morgan is!” Winter snapped. “Tell me or I’ll break your foot off!”
“You are nothing!”
“Look who’s talkin’, dude.” Fred punched his head. “You’re a sidekick.”
“Dark-age scum!”
Ulrich threw his head back, cracking Fred in the nose. A wave of disorientation washed over him. His injured forearms screamed and his limbs went slack. Reaching over his shoulders, Ulrich grabbed Fred and flung him upward with titanic force.
The floor sank away and he collided with the wall—no, he realized, with the ceiling. Fred crashed through layers of wood and plaster and broke into the level above the foyer. Cartwheeling, he smacked down next to the new hole in the floor.
He threw me into Dad’s gym!
Fred’s father had built this floor as a gymnasium that stretched the length and breadth of the house. Shuttered floor-to-ceiling windows looked out on the backyard, while the other walls were covered in mirrors.
Shaking the static from his brain, Fred rose wearily to his feet. She’s gonna need me down there.
“Oh, wrong move, future-boy!” Winter shouted.
An instant later, Ulrich blasted through the floor and cartwheeled to a stop in the middle of the gym, face-down.
“Whoa!” Fred peered through the floor as Winter brushed the dust from her shirt. Her left eye swelled and a trickle of blood spilled from her ear. A groan and a shuffle sounded from the middle of the room, and Fred saw that Ulrich was recovering.
“Ain’t got much time,” he said to Winter.
She nodded grimly, and he knew she’d caught his meaning. No time to run to the stairs. Centering herself beneath the hole, she crouched and raised her arms.
“You better catch me.”
Fred sprawled onto his stomach and stretched out his arms. “Go!”
With a shout, Winter leaped and accelerator ring–fueled legs propelled her high. Her hands latched onto his, sending hot pain through his arms. Cringing, Fred pulled her up and they stood panting beside the hole.
Ulrich rose to his hands and knees and spat drywall from his mouth. Winter eyed him, and Fred knew they shared the same desperate thought. How do we survive this?
“We can do this,” he whispered. “We just gotta—”
“Cheat?”
Fred raised an eyebrow. With a glint in her eye, Winter nodded toward a rack of disc-shaped iron weights—at least thirty of them, in multiple sizes and weights. Fred’s face split into a wicked grin. That’s why you’re my oldest friend, girl.
They dashed to the rack and Fred snatched up a forty-five pound disc. With the ring on, it felt like lifting a coffee mug.
Winter grabbed its companion and flashed her own grin. “You like frisbee, right?”
Ulrich regained his feet and stalked toward them as if unencumbered by pain or exhaustion.
They let loose simultaneously. The weights sliced through the air like ninja stars and clanged against their enemy. Winter’s swiped his thigh and Fred’s caught him full-force in the chest. Ulrich stumbled back, clutching his ribs.
“Again!” Winter shouted.
They loosed another volley of forty-fives and Ulrich dove to th
e side, barely dodging the iron missiles. Twisting, Fred picked up another weight with the opposite hand and loosed it.
Winter mirrored his movement, and they forced Ulrich to retreat from the constant hail of iron. Fred’s next shot thwacked against his shoulder, Winter’s clipped his knee, and he stumbled to the floor again.
Fred hurled a twenty-pounder that sailed past Ulrich and crunched against a set of shutters. Wooden slats broke away and a wide crack spread across the thick glass. Winter’s ten-pounder connected with Ulrich’s forehead. He clutched at the wound with a frustrated growl.
“Keep goin’, we got him!” Fred reached back, but grabbed nothing but air. The rack was empty! He felt a sinking dread. We tossed ‘em all and just barely put this dude down. What now?
A whirring sound interrupted his thoughts. Rising again, Ulrich tore his sleeves away to reveal the bracers that lent him his power. The rear half of each bracer began to spin around his arms.
Winter gasped as the room grew colder. Fred eyed the bracers, remembering something similar with Malcolm’s watch. Dark laughter erupted from Ulrich as the front half of each bracer split and rearranged to form hollow tubes.
What in the . . . ?
Planting his feet wide, Ulrich pointed at them and the bracers stopped spinning. A glow emanated from the “tubes” and suddenly Fred understood. Not tubes—barrels!
He shoved Winter. “Move!”
Thunder reverberated through the room. Beams exploded from Ulrich’s barrels and sliced toward them, carving deep furrows in the walls and flinging equipment like toys.
Blinding light enveloped Fred, and a force hammered against his body. He sailed through the air to slam against the front wall. Mirrors and drywall shattered, slicing into his skin and rocketing in every direction as he dropped to the floor. A heartbeat later, Winter crashed against the wall and collapsed next to him.
Fred clung to consciousness with the fingernails of his mind. “Stay with me, girl.”
Winter lifted up on her elbows, pale-faced as she eyed Ulrich. “He’s recharging.”
Fred spotted him at the opposite end of the room. The bracers were spinning again and a thick layer of frost coated his surroundings. He fixed them with a predatory stare.
“He ain’t slowin’ down.”
Winter shook her head. “Least we made him think twice.”
White-hot grief stabbed at Fred’s heart. His best friend lay thinking she was about to die. He set his jaw. No way is that gonna happen. He searched around them for any weapon, any advantage. Nothing.
Fred studied Ulrich again, grasping for ideas. Then his eyes slipped past the tall man, to the wall behind. One set of shutters hung askew from the impact of Fred’s disk, the glass behind it cracked like a spiderweb.
The glass behind it . . .
An idea blazed in his head. But how to do it? They couldn’t take another blast, and they had nothing left to throw. Was there any way to get close to him?
Winter braced her hands on the floor and pushed up, trying to rise. Fred watched with sympathy, wishing he could lend her strength. He eyed the black accelerator ring on her finger. Wish we had more of those things.
His thoughts screeched to a halt as he stared at the ring. It was a crazy idea, but could it work? Reaching out, he grasped her hand.
“Fred, what—?”
“Squeeze hard. Just trust me.”
Interlocking their fingers, he squeezed as tightly as he could. Winter followed suit and her eyes popped open. Her ring was now wrapped within Fred’s hand and touching his skin, while his ring also touched her skin. Warm relief cascaded through his body and the pain in his side lessened. Winter’s face brightened as if she’d discovered an untapped well of strength.
Fred grinned. As he’d hoped, he and Winter now shared their rings’ power with each other.
“Can’t take this fool in a fair fight,” Fred gestured toward the cracked glass. “Feel like takin’ him for a ride?”
Winter eyed the glass with grim satisfaction. “Oh, you have no idea.”
They helped each other to their feet and turned toward Ulrich.
“We don’t stop, we don’t fall, we don’t quit,” Winter said. “This is it. It ends here no matter what.”
Fred nodded, eyes trained on their target. He tensed to run. “Call it when you’re ready.”
Ulrich regarded them with amusement. “Still trying to win?” He pointed his bracers. “Come, then.”
“Now!”
Hand in hand, they charged. Fred ran harder than ever before, feet pounding against the floor as he threw himself forward. At his side, Winter kept pace with all the speed she could muster.
Ulrich unleashed his weapons. Fred cried out as a beam struck his chest with bone-shaking force. He willed his legs to keep pumping through the relentless assault. Step after step, he bolted forward while the energy exploded against his body. His foot caught on a crack in the floor and Winter pulled him along until he regained his balance.
Winter caught a beam in the stomach. Retching, she fought back a wave of nausea and poured the pain into her resolve. She would not quit! She battled the urge to double over and vomit, and Fred pulled her forward until the sensation faded.
They stampeded wildly toward their adversary. As they closed the last few yards, Fred saw the fear in Ulrich’s eyes and allowed himself to smile.
Fred and Winter collided with Ulrich, lifting him off his feet with the force of their charge. They closed around him in a mighty bear-hug and kept running. His beams carved wild arcs in the air as he struggled desperately to blast them away. Then he saw where they were running.
“NO!”
They took a last leap forward and smashed through the window.
Fred’s world slowed around him. Wind rippled his clothes and flying fragments of glass glinted in the sunlight. From over thirty feet in the air, he observed the stone patio beneath them.
He watched as their momentum turned downward, and the ground rushed up to meet them.
“She’s so young,” Lucius whispered into Valentine’s ear. “So healthy. And she was so easy to find.”
From inside the time bubble, Val trembled like a leaf at the sight of her mother. Lucius must have done something with the bubble so that Emily couldn’t see or hear it. Twirling with baby Valentine and Malcolm on each hip, she glowed as if the sun shone from inside her.
Valentine gazed at her with longing. Her knees weakened until the only thing holding her upright was her enemy’s grip.
“Please don’t hurt her!” she begged. “Please—”
“I’m not threatening her, Valentine,” Lucius insisted. “I’m offering to extend her life. I will give you the means to cure her illness, and you will have your mother back for decades to come. All you have to do is help me get home.”
Valentine’s resolve crumbled to pieces and a flood of tears streamed down her cheeks. She reached toward her mother, desperate to embrace her again. To talk to her one more time. I’ll do anything. Anything . . .
A faint voice struggled through the torrent of emotions. But what’s the real price?
Valentine stopped short, latching onto the thought like a life preserver. Yes. What is he bargaining for? Taking hold of herself, she labored to focus on what was real. He wants my help.
And what does that really mean?
She forced herself to think out the words. I’d have to fight my brother. Oma Grace. My friends. Then help kill thirty thousand people. All for him to get home. All to save one person I love.
Lucius cared nothing for her mother. For him, she was only a means to manipulate Valentine. The memory of Emily Gilbert was his final, desperate bargaining chip.
Valentine focused on that thought—it gave her clarity. And with that clarity came molten rage. Her outstretched hand closed into a fist and she sucked in a deep, shudde
ring breath.
“No,” she said. “You will not use her against me!”
Valentine’s fingers clamped over Lucius’s open hand and squeezed. The watch pressed against her palm and the image of her mother wavered.
“I only want to—” he began.
Throwing her head back, she cracked against his nose and stomped his right instep. He gasped, his grip on her slackening. Keeping her grip firmly on the watch, Valentine whipped around and planted an open palm against Lucius’s chest. Her eyes bore into his, and she saw him through a veil of red.
“Don’t ever go near her again!” she roared. Her anger swelled until it became a living beast. The watch vibrated in her grip, and power burst through her body like a living fire.
She shoved hard against Lucius, shouting in fury. His jaw dropped as she propelled him away from her mother. She pressed harder and he fell back again. With another shift sensation, the bubble turned red and the scene outside changed.
Snarling, he pushed back against her. His face recoiled as he failed. Her expression twisted into a bitter, humorless smile at the look in his eyes. Fear.
Valentine’s will took on a life of its own. The watch glowed in her thoughts and she seized it with her mind like a burning star. Again she advanced and Lucius retreated, and again the scene outside changed. They shifted, flying forward in time. Deep inside, she knew it was somehow because of her.
Step after step she battled Lucius, pushing him farther from her mother, flashing them through scene after scene as time ticked by. The changing scenes stopped at Fred’s battle-scarred living room.
The energy bubble burst, depositing them in the present. Valentine’s shout rose to a primal shriek, and she shoved with everything she had. Lucius burst through the living room wall like a bullet, toppling hard to the kitchen floor.
Seething, she followed him through as he stumbled to his feet. Before he could recover, she dealt a wicked snap-kick to his chest.
Lucius crashed through the glass doors facing the backyard. Tumbling to the patio, he spun across the stone and slid to a stop. The pocket watch left his grasp and skittered in another direction.