"Have you not seen any of the shows I like?" I flash him a grin. "Bad guy has power object, hero breaks power object, bad guy has no power."
Jake chuckles. "I'm kind of surprised it worked for you, actually."
"Why?"
"Because this isn't a TV show. This is real life, and it's much uglier and messier than anything we've seen."
"There is that." I want to touch him, just for the reassurance, but even though I think he's on his way to forgiving me, I don't want to push him away by accident. I settle for resting my hands on the table. "So, we have Death. What do we do with her?"
"It's only a matter of time before the Dark King realizes what happened," Dr. Colibri says. She tugs a stool over and hitches herself up onto it. "I think we need to interrogate Death."
"She has nothing to live for," I say, and I can feel Jake tense up even though we're not touching. "Why would she help us?"
"I don't know," the doctor admits.
"Punishment, maybe?" Professor Wedlund suggests.
"How so?"
He fiddles with one of the buttons on his sweater. I've never seen him fidget before; just how worried is he? "Perhaps it's similar to what happened with War."
"Again," I say, "how so?"
"The King imprisoned War," he says. My heart clenches, but there's nothing I can do about it right now. "He said Famine would be torturing him for centuries. Imagine what he'll do to Death for a failure like this."
I nod; he might be right.
Jake, however, doesn't seem convinced. "The King saw War as a traitor," he says. "Death was beaten in combat. She did something stupid, so he won't be happy, but she didn't betray him."
"That brings up an interesting point, though," the Professor says. "What about Famine and Pestilence? Where are their power objects?"
"No clue. They didn't use weapons this time or last time. I just think Death got overconfident." I pick up a broken piece of the scythe, the one with the blade. "I'm still going to talk to her though."
"You want backup?" Jake asks.
Now I do touch him, running my hand along his arm. "I appreciate it, but I don't think you should be there."
"Why not?"
"Because I don't plan on being nice."
Death was unconscious when we brought her in, so we took advantage of the lull to bind her to a chair. Probably more comfortable, even though I can see the rough ropes pressing into the skin of her arms. She's awake now, not struggling, just watching me as I close the door and turn to her, scythe-piece in my hand. "I don't know what you plan to do with that," she says. "It's broken. It has no power."
I run my finger along the blade -- not the sharp part, because I'm not that dumb, but the flat of it. "I don't know," I say, keeping my voice conversational. "Might be worth it to send you back to the King's domain. When you get back next time, you can tell me all about your punishment for failing him."
To my surprise, that touches a nerve. I can see it on Death's face. She's stilled somehow, as if frozen. I think she wants to frown, but there's a bruise blooming at the corner of her mouth from where I smacked her, and I'm guessing that it hurts too much. After a few seconds, she shakes out of her little moment. "It's not a failure if I die while making you weaker. It's not a failure if I eat away at the people who believe in you, or kill off these useless humans to make way for him." She sounds like she's eating something sour. "When he wins, I'll be completely restored."
"Will you?" I move closer, idly swinging the half-a-scythe through the air, holding it like a sickle. "I don't think that a failure will get the reward she's expecting."
"I've served him faithfully for longer than your species has been a species in the first place!" she snaps. She's pissed now, color in her cheeks, eyes hard and glinting. "You don't think yours is the first world we tried to conquer, do you?"
"Actually," I say, "I never thought about it. How many worlds have there been?"
She laughs. "More than you can count. We've worked our way up for almost a billion of your human years. This world is just another stepping-stone that we'll win, occupy, and destroy as we move on to something better."
"But for five million of your years, you've been trying and failing. Says a little something about how resilient we are, doesn't it?"
Another laugh, this one of pure resentment. "Just a drop in the ocean. You're not even the most formidable enemy I've faced here, let alone the worst I've ever seen."
"But I have something they don't, I wager."
"Oh? And what's that?"
"This."
I bring the scythe-blade around as if I'm going to decapitate Death. She jerks away. "You could take someone's head off with that thing," she snarls.
"I know."
Then I turn the blade and press the flat of it to Death's neck.
Jake is arguing with Dr. Colibri when I get back to the main lab -- I think it's about him calling Lisa, telling her what's going on, and the doctor asking just how he plans to explain Death possessing his mother-in-law -- but they stop when they see me. Good thing, too, because I can barely keep my feet. I'm holding onto the door-frame with all I'm worth, trying not to fall; the scythe is somewhere behind me, already dropped from nearly-nerveless fingers.
"Andi!" Jake is by my side as fast as he can be, and I put my arm over his shoulders. He lifts me into his arms and carries me to the lab table, which is thankfully bare, and lays me down on it. I would've appreciated a chair, but this is fine too, and anyway I don't have the energy to complain. "Andi, what happened?"
"I know," I whisper.
"What?" Dr. Colibri asks. She carefully pulls the mask off my face and shines a pen-light in my eyes. "What do you know? Are you all right?"
"I know... everything."
The Professor is suddenly over me, his upside-down face making me giggle. Upside-down-face has always done that. "Andrea," he says, "what happened?"
"Death." Jake takes my hand between both of his. His skin is warm, his touch comforting. I feel a bit stronger just for that. "I touched Death."
"You carried her in," Dr. Colibri says. She's pressing something cool and sticky to my temples, and I hear a bipping noise. EEG, I guess? "You touched her then. What changed?"
"Touched her with the scythe." Saying all those words together is exhausting and my eyes drift closed. A small hand slaps at my cheek. "Stop that..."
"Wake up," Dr. Colibri says. "You have to tell us what you know!"
I want to swipe at her, push her away, but my arms aren't quite under my own control at the moment.
The next slap hurts. A lot. But I don't have the energy to fight back. Or speak.
Time passes. Not a lot. Something cool touches the back of my left hand. Cool and wet. A sharp pinch, some pressure, and then cold fluid spreads up my the inside of arm. I chuckle -- really more a huffing noise -- and I wonder if I'm being turned into liquid metal or frozen in carbonite.
Then the liquid starts doing what it's supposed to and I'm queasy and nauseous. Not the bile-rising, want-to-barf nausea of evil, but a general unpleasantness, like being drunk without the good parts.
"I think that worked," the Professor says. "She looks more coherent already."
"Must have sapped all her energy, whatever it was." Dr. Colibri is in my face again. "Are you feeling better?"
"No." But I start struggling to sit up and Jake puts one arm under my shoulders. An IV line is connected to my hand. "I'm going to heal around this."
"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it," she tells me. Jake helps me walk to Dr. Colibri's computer chair -- it has a back and armrests, the only chair in the room that does -- and I lower myself into it. "Can you tell us what happened?"
I nod. "I'm not sure exactly what caused it." My voice is faraway, but I can already tell that, whatever this stuff is in the IV bag, it's got enough nutrients in it to power me for a good long while. It's helping me sound stronger, more confident of what I'm saying. "I was holding the scythe, and I touched the blade to her ne
ck. I didn't know what it would do, but it felt like the right thing."
"I guess it was," Jake says. "What happened when you did?"
I share a look with Jake. I want to make a pop-culture reference, but neither Dr. Colibri nor the Professor will get it, and I'll end up wasting time explaining. "We made a connection. The scythe had some power left to it, I guess, even though Death couldn't access it. It must've acted as a conduit. I saw..." My voice trails off. Everyone stares at me. I blush a little. "I saw everything. And I know where the Dark King will show up next."
Dr. Colibri is at her computer now. "Where?"
I open my mouth to tell her... but then close it.
"Andrea?" the Professor prompts. "Andrea, where will he be?"
I shake my head. "I can't tell you."
"Why not?"
"Because I have to face him alone. Just like last time. Just like everyone else has for the past five thousand years."
"Why?" That's Jake, holding my hand again. "Why can't you have help?"
"Who's going to help me?" I look up at him and cover his hand with my other one. It pulls the IV tubing a bit but I'm not paying attention to that. "He's far too dangerous for anyone but me to take him on, and--"
"And didn't your favorite show hang a massive fucking lampshade on that trope?" Jake tugs his hand out of mine and takes a couple of steps away. "How many times did they make that point on Buffy, huh? That she was only such a good slayer because she brought in her friends, because they helped her? Let us help you!"
"Damn it, Jake!" I'm on my feet, and I'm shouting. "Life isn't a TV show! Life--" The IV stand falls. I rip the tube out of my arm and stalk over to him. "He's not a vampire, or a werewolf, or even a Klingon. He's stronger than he's ever been, and I have to stop him before he kills everyone I care about! I don't want..." I stop, take a couple of deep breaths, and then reach for Jake's hands. He lets me hold onto them, lets me squeeze them, tighter than I should. "I don't want him to start with you, or with the Professor." A pause for comedic effect. "Or even the other one."
"Thanks for that," Dr. Colibri says.
I look over to her and smile. "Anytime."
But when I turn back to Jake, I can read his expression. It's a mixture of fear, disappointment, and relief. It's the relief that I key on. "Look, Jake, I know you want to help, but this is just something that I have to do. That I was made to do."
A long, silent moment, staring into each other's eyes. Then he begins to speak. "'One girl in all the world,'" he quotes. "'A chosen one.'"
Tears form in my eyes and the words come easily. "'She alone will wield the strength and skill--'"
"'To stop the spread of evil and the swell of their number,'" Jake continues. "'She is...'" But there the words fall away. He swallows hard. "You are... you're..."
He pauses. I wait.
"You're going to save us all."
And that's it. I can't take any more. I grab him and pull him into a hug, pressing my cheek to his shoulder. His neck smells so, so good, and I wish I could ignore that because now is certainly not the time. And anyway his arms are around me, just like mine are around him, and it's exactly what I need at exactly the right moment.
I'm no slayer -- there's no such thing -- but Jake's right: I'm going to save everyone.
Because it's what I was made to do.
I don't know how long we stand there before the Professor clears his throat. I turn my head, not wanting to let go of Jake. "What?"
"I hate to spoil your moment, but we still don't know how to kill the Dark King. He's extremely powerful, and you've yet to go up against him for real -- at least, this time around. But you remember what he was like the last time."
"I do." I reluctantly let go of Jake, moving back to the table. "But something about our meeting yesterday gave me an idea."
"What's that?"
Jake is behind me, resting his hands on my shoulders. I would love to just relax into him, let him hold me, but the Professor is right. We have to do this, and we have to do it now -- before Death's information becomes outdated. I do take a moment to enjoy the feeling, though, before I speak. "He had a heart -- I don't know whose -- with some sort of spell on it. It completely damped my powers. I knew they were there, but I couldn't access them, and as far as I could tell, he couldn't get his, either."
"Equal footing," Dr. Colibri says. She opens a drawer on her side of the lab table and takes out a long, narrow box, like one a jeweler might use for a bracelet. She sets the box on the table and opens it. "I think I can help you with that."
I see what's in the box and I want to reach out, want to smash it, want to destroy that little piece of technology...
...but I don't. Because it was my suggestion.
Because Dr. Colibri is right to offer it.
Because it's the only way I can think of to make sure the Dark King isn't powerful enough to make the fight a fair one. The last time I fought him, he nearly killed me.
Not this time.
I close my eyes, take three deep, slow breaths, and then open them again.
"Let's do it."
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
AS YOU WERE
+++++
I get the feeling that the Dark King was expecting me to defeat Death, because when I get to the Speedway, he's in front of the empty stands, leaning on the retaining wall, arms folded. I land in the middle of the track; he tips me an imaginary hat. "So," he says, pushing off the wall and sauntering toward me, "it is down to you, and it is down to me."
I laugh -- an honest one -- because I did not in any way expect the Dark King to quote The Princess Bride at me. Then, just because I can, I throw him the next line, a little paraphrased. "If you wish your death, by all means keep moving forward."
His smile is just as genuine as my laugh was. "Very nice, Alexandra."
I sketch a small bow, not taking my eyes off him. "So glad you approve." I straighten up. "You figured it out, huh?"
"I felt you break Death's power source. We'll be having words after I finish you off. Trust me."
"Contradiction in terms." In the pale dawn light, I see his eyebrow raise. "Trusting you."
"Ah." He gives me a half-shrug. "Well, you've got what you want. You've sent most of my minions back to our... what did you call it? Our 'pocket dimension'?" I nod. "Yes. There. And you've defeated my four most powerful lieutenants. In fact, you turned one into a traitor, and don't think I'm not going to make you scream for that alone."
"You're welcome to try." I keep my voice level and calm. I don't want him to know how nervous I am -- not about the fight, but about what I'm going to have to do to win it. "You're going back with the rest of them," I say. "And when you next come for a visit, there'll be two of us to stop you."
"You've got an awful lot of confidence for someone so small."
My brow wrinkles at that. "I'm not that much shorter than you."
"Not at the moment." He brings his hands together in a sharp clap. The air wavers, but there's no other display of whatever magic that has turned the Dark King into a gigantic dinosaur-like beast. His voice, when he speaks, is like boulders dropping to the bottom of a stone canyon. "How. About. Now?"
He roars. Fire flares from his mouth in a steady stream and I dart backward, launching into the air. The flames spatter against the track, which is used to that sort of thing, and die out. "I don't know," I shout. "How about now?" In a flash I'm darting forward, an arrow of force aimed at his throat; he dips his massive head and my fist smashes into a thickly-plated surface. I cry out and stumble, and when I'm flying, stumbling takes on an added third direction. I spin out of control and crash into the stands, but push up to my feet and turn to face the King again, shaking my right hand.
"Nice. Try."
"What the hell are you?"
He doesn't reply -- at least, not with words. He breathes fire again and again I fly off, moving up into the air until I'm out of his range -- I hope. From that vantage point, I circle the King-creature, looking for a
weakness. I don't see one, though: heavy gray plating, four arms, four legs, a tail with a bulb-like protrusion at the end. It can breathe fire, and-- "Fuck!"
It can fly.
Ungainly in the air, to be sure, but it's still lifted off, rising slowly in my direction. Its arms are connected by thick flaps of whatever passes for skin on this thing, and that plus the Dark King's not-insubstantial power is bringing it ever-closer to me.
I stand my ground, maintain my airspace, whatever it's called, waiting to see what happens, trying to come up with a plan.
Its mouth opens -- the teeth are long and sharp, sabers as thick as my leg and as long as I am tall. I wait as long as possible, until the jet of flame is only yards away, and then twist out of range. The King follows me with his blast, super-heating the air in a long arc of sky, but cuts it off as I circle all the way around and he has to stop because his head doesn't go that far.
That's when I put on the burst of speed and aim directly for the mouth, which is closing rapidly.
My body turns in midair and my boots crash into one of the thing's fangs. A huge snap and the tooth is severed, falling, even as the King growls.
I grab the tooth long before it hits the ground and carry it out of reach of the fire-blast. Black blood drips from the spiky, broken remains of the fang -- both my end and the King's -- and a forked blue tongue comes out to lick it up. "You! Will! Pay! " he howls, the sound like a foghorn trapped in a gravel pit.
"Keep trying!" I call back, brandishing the tooth in both hands. "I can do this all day!" That's not exactly true, but it's a good taunt nonetheless. "Care to take this back to ground level?"
The response is another burst of flame, but a short one this time. I head upward, then turn and aim at the creature, tooth held in front of me, point down. Like a missile I tear through the sky, aiming for the thing's left eye. At this speed, I can concentrate on nothing but where I'm going -- the last thing I need is to carom off the armor-plated skin and lose my one weapon.
That's when the tail swats me, a baseball bat smashing a mosquito. The tooth falls.
After The Apocalypse Page 33