by Jak Koke
“Very well,” Cluster said. “Let’s go.”
Ryan and Cluster made a full walk around the perimeter wall, discussing the positioning of Cluster’s team. The man’s tactical skill reassured Ryan that Jane had chosen well. He learned the names of each of the other runners as they set up the defense. The dwarf rigger was called Bingo. Raven was the samurai; Slider was the elf ninja, and the mage was called Radar.
Ryan wanted to touch base with everyone, examine their auras, and generally keep his mind off the upcoming ritual. Ryan had never been to the metaplanes, and he was sure the trek would not be easy. He had heard stories about the difficulties of traveling there—passing the dweller on the threshold, meeting strange and powerful spirits. Many of his mage friends had spoken of their quests as though they had gone on an inner journey, had delved more into their own spirits than traveled abroad.
I have nothing to fear.
Ryan shook his head, and focused his attention on the details of setting up an impenetrable defense. He asked Dhin if Bingo, the dwarf rigger, could jack into the chopper’s hitcher port. Bingo wanted to use the surveillance drone to scan the area.
Starfish, the hothead physical adept who wanted to spar with Ryan, was assigned to the point of the island farthest from the chateau. Then Cluster set up the rest of his team to monitor the island with overlapping fields of fire.
As they were finishing, the last red light of the dying sun waned in the west. Harlequin and Foster emerged from the chateau, walking hand in hand as they approached. They advanced slowly toward where Ryan stood on the sea wall, their faces serious. Determined.
Ryan turned to Grind and Cluster. “You got it under control?”
They both nodded.
“Good.” Ryan then turned to meet Harlequin and Foster, who were making their way up the short stairs to the walkway that ran along the top of the wall.
“Ryan,” Harlequin said. “It’s time.”
Ryan nodded. He subvocalized into this tacticom mike.
“Axler, Talon,” he said. “Meet us at the entrance to the chateau. You’re coming inside with me.”
When they had all gathered at the main entrance, Harlequin turned and led them inside. “Let’s get this over with,” he said. “The ritual chamber awaits.”
14
Strapped to a table, Lethe looked around at the abandoned restaurant. The astral background smelled old and musty here, almost stagnant. Chairs and tables lay like discarded toys, scattered pell-mell. A giant aquarium built into a wall a hundred years earlier was host only to thick dust and grime-smeared glass.
The auras of several metahumans stood around Lethe, different from those who had transported him in the jet from Panama. Here, two guards flanked each of the two entrances. Four total, and at least two of them were magically adept.
A human technician stood above Lethe, above the cyborg body that held Lethe’s spirit. He was beginning to consider Billy’s body his own. The boy’s spirit was growing more and more enmeshed with Lethe as they spent time together. They were growing interdependent.
“He’s coming around,” said the technician, referring to Billy. “Alert Meyer. He’s out by the Locus.”
“Sí, Señor. ” One of the guards left the room.
Lethe could feel Billy’s spirit awaken as the effects of the drug wore off. His systems clicked on one by one. First Lethe felt sensory data come in through Billy’s cybereyes, ears, and nose. Billy blinked as the smell of mold and dust hit him.
The feeling in his head and shoulders came on with a click. Next were his chest, arms, and hands. Billy opened his eyes and tried to sit up. The straps held him in place and he relaxed.
Spirit, are you with me?
“I am here, Billy.” Lethe could hear his own thoughts channeled through Billy’s Invoked Memory Stimulator and become words in the cyberzombie’s mind. It was an odd sensation.
Where are we?
“I think we have been brought to a place called San Marcos, to see a man named Oscuro or Darke.”
I know this place. I have been here before, long ago, it seems. A different lifetime. But I remember it, I remember walking outside, seeing the lake, the stone underneath. Feeling the power.
“I have felt it,” Lethe said through the IMS. And he could still sense it even through the walls of the old restaurant—an immense subliminal power. “It is the magic that draws all those people outside.”
People? Billy flexed his hands, checking his cybernetic systems with internal diagnostics. Most everything was on-line—his cyberspurs, his telescoping fingers, his wrist gyromount, and magnetic palms. And internally, his headgear seemed to be functioning normally as well. His GPS showed their exact location, his homing signal had been repaired, his eyes and ears checked out perfectly with all their augmentation intact.
“Yes, all around this place, thousands of people have gathered. They have been drawn by the Locus—the stone that you see in your memory.”
Feeling clicked on in his legs and feet, and Billy continued his diagnostic cycle. His internal air tank was operating, as was his move-by-wire system and his power supply. Everything was as good as new—heel spikes and hydraulic jack—except his articulated arm, which didn’t show up.
“They replaced your third arm and the gun,” Lethe said. “I saw them do it.”
Must be locked out. Maybe you can access it, Lethe.
“I’ll try, but I doubt I’ll have any success.” Lethe exerted his will over Billy’s articulated arm, seeing if he could nudge it.
Nothing.
Lethe could see where Billy’s access to it had been cut, but the operation of the arm was tied into the cybernetic part of Billy’s brain. Maybe they could get past it by merging the metal with spirit. That might be impossible, but Lethe didn’t know.
“Sorry, Billy.”
Don’t fret it. We can get out of here without it.
“I’m ready when you are,” Lethe said.
The technician standing above them spoke. Lethe could see him physically now, a dark-haired human with brown eyes and bronze skin. He wore a jumpsuit with a Jaguar Guard flash patch on his shoulder. “How do you feel, Burnout?”
Billy smiled up at him. “Never better. I’m good as new.”
“Good,” said the tech. “Now, please relax. I’m going to be running a series of—”
He never got to finish his sentence. Billy’s cyberspurs snapped out of his forearm with a barely audible snick, their brand new monoblades slicing cleanly through the restraints. One of them caught the technician’s wrist as he was reaching down to touch the access panel in Billy’s torso.
“Ahh!” screamed the tech as Billy cut away the rest of the restraints.
Lethe drew mana around them, using his power to make them nearly invisible.
“¡Qué!” yelled one of the guards, bringing a machine gun to bear.
Another guard followed suit.
Billy leaped up to his feet, tossing the bleeding body of the technician to the side like a rag doll.
The rattle of automatic gunfire exploded into the room as two guards unloaded weapons into the body of the technician. Billy had disappeared. Lethe’s masking was working.
Billy closed the distance to the guards in a flash. He was even faster now, with all his equipment repaired. His monoblades retracted and he leveled a blow into one guard’s skull, just over the cerebellum.
The other turned just as Billy snatched the weapon from the guard crumbling to the ground. His eyes widened for a second as they managed to focus on Billy. Too late. Billy’s extendible fingers shot out and coiled around the guard’s throat, and with a jerk he snapped the man’s neck.
The two guards near the opposite wall scanned the room rapidly, one trying to see Billy with his astral sight. To no avail. Lethe had masked that as well, making them very difficult to pinpoint. The guards sprayed the room with gunfire, erratic and desperate.
Billy picked one off with a burst from the SMG. The other broke and ran,
sounding the alarm.
“Now let’s find a ride out of here,” Billy said aloud.
Lethe gave his silent consent, and they stepped out into the heat and light.
In an instant, Billy scanned the area, looking for transportation. The glass door led to a cement plaza of sorts, bounded on one side by the restaurant and a parking lot crowded with people, and on the other side by the edge of what must have been the lake. Before it had been drained.
Now the cement led up to a five-meter drop onto a rocky lake bed covered sporadically with brown reeds and river plants. Across the lake bed stood the teocalli, a step-pyramid replica of an ancient Aztec temple. And behind that, more people, and an ollamaliztli stadium in the distance.
The smell of rotting plants filled the air, causing Billy to squint as he scanned toward the parking lot. While he was cataloguing the various vehicles, Lethe felt the immense pull of the Locus, sitting at the bottom of the dry lake bed.
Lethe focused his attention on the faceted stone, ignoring the gathering of people around and on top of it. Its awesome power enticed him, like a candle flame draws a moth. It was beautiful, magnificent.
Abruptly, a sick sensation slicked through Lethe, dread on a massive scale, and he knew that something was wrong here. Something was terribly wrong.
Billy hadn’t moved from his position at the door of the restaurant. He, too, was drawn by the Locus.
Lethe began to notice the mages and guards on and around the stone. He saw the blood sacrifices, and he focused on the ring of mages linked by their life energy to become one perverted creature in astral space. He saw how the stone’s power was being used.
Two people lay on the hard surface of the stone. Their bodies were there, but their spirits had left to travel to the metaplanes.
Lethe called on the Locus to hone his vision. He was stuck inside this machine-man, but he could still manipulate mana, and perhaps he could tap into the stone’s reservoir of power.
Energy rushed into him, and Lethe could barely make out a dim wispy tendril, a resonating echo in astral space left by the two people. One was a human man with an aura as black and tainted as any Lethe had ever seen. The other was a human woman whose aura flickered on the edge of darkness and light.
Lethe had seen the effects of this woman’s aura before. Long ago it seemed, when he had been bathed in light from the goddess, Thayla. When she had showed him the dark spot, the flaw in her song.
Realization hit him. This is where the darkness that threatens Thayla is originating. This is how they plan to destroy her and take the bridge.
“Billy,” Lethe said, through the IMS. “I need to tell you something.”
“I saw it all, Lethe,” Billy said. “Don’t ask me how, but I saw it in your mind.”
“We need to stop them before they destroy Thayla.”
Lethe saw images in Billy’s mind; he was thinking about the beauty of the song she sang. The painful perfection of the blinding brilliance that issued from her soul as her voice rang out over the Chasm.
Billy checked the clip on the submachine gun and the integrated grenade launcher. “Let’s do it,” he said, then started toward the lake bed.
15
Ryan followed Harlequin into the chateau and through the central room. The elf led him into a side corridor and down a set of tight-winding stone stairs into the dungeon of the ancient fortress. The air grew cool and humid as they descended, the walls glistening slightly under the yellow light of torches.
Behind them came Jane Foster, Axler, and Talon. Foster was giving Axler and Talon instructions. “You two will stay with me outside the ritual circle. We will watch over the bodies, and defend them if any nasties come through from the astral or the metaplanes.”
Axler stared coldly at Foster. “I’m ready.”
Talon merely nodded, his full concentration on the elven woman.
Harlequin led them into a low-ceilinged chamber with walls of thick masonry. The wide space smelled of the tallow candles that were the sole illumination. The room was nearly circular, about ten meters across. Over the walls hung tapestries and murals the like of which Ryan had never seen. They depicted beautiful and terrifying scenes—a battle in a city of spires, a sword duel at dawn, and the one that caught Ryan’s eyes most strongly—a likeness of Dunkelzahn crouched in a cave, speaking to two tiny dragons.
“Do you like it?” Harlequin asked, sweeping his arms to indicate the whole room. “I’ve haven’t shown it to anyone in millen ... a long time.”
“Wow, Harlequin, this is totally amazing, i’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Don’t patronize me!” Harlequin turned suddenly. Swiftly and with a dangerous look in his eye.
Ryan had been completely serious. “I didn’t mean—”
“You must know that I could destroy you with a thought,” Harlequin said. “I could destroy you all and take the Dragon Heart.”
The chill edge of adrenaline scissored up Ryan’s vertebrae. “What?”
“I am powerful,” the elf said. “You’ve only seen a fraction of it. And the Dragon Heart is . . .” Sounds of satisfaction came from Harlequin’s throat. “Divine.”
Ryan focused himself. It was hard to believe that the elf was going to try to take the Heart now, after all this, but if he did, Ryan would fight him,
“I could take it for myself. It would have many uses against those who believe I am but a jester between courts.” Harlequin’s face showed nothing but seriousness.
Ryan narrowed his eyes on Harlequin. “Frag off,” he said. “You aren’t going to destroy me. You don’t want the Dragon Heart.”
They stared at each other in a silence that stretched. Ryan did not waver in the slightest. He prepared to use his stealth magic to escape.
Finally Harlequin smiled. “You are right, of course, Ryan. I have no reason to take action against you. We want the same thing.”
Ryan breathed a sigh of relief, but he felt anger smoldering. “I’ve indulged your little game. Shall we get on with the ritual?”
Harlequin walked to a small chest that sat on the floor next to the wall. “Don’t be too hasty,” he said. “The metaplanes should not be traveled lightly, especially by a first-timer.” He opened the chest and removed a long blue candle that was inlaid with a coppery gold metal.
In the astral, the entire room burned like a sun that it almost hurt to look at. The candle flared in the astral as Harlequin lit it, the metal veins sparking flares of mana as the elf mage paced around the chamber, making patterns with the dripping candle.
Ryan waited while the elf moved around, using the time to reflect on the last exchange with Harlequin. The fragging sonofaslitch! Ryan thought. He taunted me purposely.
Ryan watched Harlequin carefully, fascinated by the elf’s hands. They had an unnaturalness to them, gaunt and chalk-white. They appeared fragile, yet the tendons, which stood out like cords, crisscrossed by veins of deep purple under the pale skin, held a strength that Ryan had never seen before.
An undying vitality.
After a few minutes, Harlequin stopped dripping candle wax. The circle had been made complete, the tracery of patterns intricate and beautiful. The painted elf extinguished the flame and set the candle down. Then he beckoned to Ryan.
Ryan nodded, awaiting instructions.
“Please step to the middle of the circle,” Harlequin said. “Place the Dragon Heart in the exact center. I’ve marked it.”
Ryan nodded, then carefully removed the Heart from his wide cloth sash. He set the artifact on the blue spot in the center of the room.
“The Heart will be the tricky part,” Harlequin said. “While the physical components of you and me will remain here in the physical world, the entire make-up of the Dragon Heart has to be carried into the astral and the metaplanes.”
Ryan nodded his understanding.
Harlequin dripped orichalcum wax from the smoking candle in his hand onto the Dragon Heart until the whole artifact was covered. “We
’re almost ready,” he said, taking his free hand and filling his palm with hot liquid wax from the candle. He brushed Ryan’s forehead with it, then his own.
“One more thing, Ryan Mercury.”
"Yes?”
“The metaplanes are a mirror of the soul. Across the threshold, truth is always shown in metaphor—nothing is as it seems. Everything is both hidden and revealed.”
“I have heard stories.”
Harlequin gripped Ryan by the shoulders, iron-tight and unshakable. His piercing green eyes flashed with impatience. “I don’t know what Dunkelzahn did to you, but you’re more than you seem.”
Ryan did not flinch; he held Harlequin’s stare. “In all sincerity, I don’t know what you mean.”
“Then you’re more than you know,” Harlequin said. “I think you should be prepared, because in the metaplanes, you might learn the truth. And in my experience, the truth has the nasty habit of fucking up a perfectly good fantasy.” Ryan held his breath. He wasn’t sure what Harlequin was talking about, and he just wanted to get on with the mission.
Harlequin released his grip on Ryan. “I’m only telling you this because you’ve never traveled the netherworlds. When truth hits you, which it will sooner or later, I don’t want you to freeze up. At the wrong moment, it could mean death.”
“I don’t think I have any secrets,” Ryan said.
Harlequin smiled. “Everybody does.”
Ryan grinned. “Even you?”
“I have more than most,” Harlequin said. “Maybe even more than you.”
Ryan thought about that. What secrets did he have? Since defeating Roxborough’s personality transfer and recovering the Dragon Heart, Ryan knew what he had to do. He knew who he was. Or at least he thought he knew.
“You’re ready,” Harlequin said. Then he began pacing along the interior of the wax circle, gesturing for Ryan to follow suit.
Ryan stepped in behind him and soon the world around them changed.
16
Señor Oscuro’s words echoed in Lucero’s ears as she stood poised to step through the dark barrier and into the cleansing white. As she balanced on the verge of salvation. “What are you doing, my child?”