by Jak Koke
The dwarf inclined his black head. “I got him.”
He bent and lifted the mage with his third arm as Dhin lowered a rope from the chopper. Grind used his two free hands to grab the rope.
Another explosion shook the tower as a blinding white toroid of energy rolled out from the Locus. The wave was massive. Ryan watched it expand out from the stone like a tsunami. In seconds, it plowed up the hillside, flattening trees and blowing out buildings as it rose. It slammed into the base of the tower like a volcanic explosion.
The world tilted under Ryan as Grind hauled himself and Talon up the line and into the helicopter. The tower lurched and toppled then, its base sheared by the force of the explosion.
Axler yelled as she jumped for one of the ropes from the helo. But she hadn’t released her safety line, and her waist was still connected to the eyelet on the observation platform. The line jerked taut and pulled her down. She never reached the helicopter rope.
“Drek!” she yelled as she fell with the observation platform.
Ryan fell after her, riding the falling tower like he was surfing a crashing wave. “Axler,” he yelled, “cut your safety line!”
If she was still attached when the top impacted with the hillside, she would die instantly, her body whiplashed into the unyielding rock. All her bones pulverized.
Ryan might die too, but he didn’t think about that. He focused his magic and concentrated on changing his shape again. The mana came as easily as before, and in seconds, Ryan was in drake form for the second time.
He flapped his scaled wings and hovered in the smoky air for an instant. The sense of weightlessness, of flight, sent a thrill through him. Then he dove.
Axler, push away from the tower. I will try to catch you.
Ryan watched in absolute clarity as Axler, flying through the air, cut her tether to the observation platform, and sailed through the sky like a tiny doll. Out and away from the tower.
Ryan twisted in the air, nearly overcompensating and losing control as he swerved toward her.
Axler maintained an amazing calm and poise as she plummeted. Facing down death without flinching.
Ryan swooped in, his control over his new body growing by the second. He extended his hind legs and snatched at her. The claws that had been his feet protruded now with sharp talons, and he used them, sinking them into the flesh of her gut and leg as he latched onto her.
“Ahh!” Axler yelled, gritting her teeth against the pain of her flesh being pierced.
The ground rushed up at them as Ryan tried to bring himself level. Her extra weight pulling him down. Even in this form, he massed only slightly more than Axler. He tried to tap into his magic to help him. He didn’t know if his ability to fly was physical or magical, but he would try anything.
Meters behind them, the tower hit the ground with a deafening crash, sending a shower of tiny rock fragments over Ryan and Axler. Metal screeched and buckled behind them as the observation platform blew apart from the impact. Twisted bits of shrapnel and fragments of glass plowed into them.
Ryan ignored the pain of the bombardment, the agony of the hundreds of tiny cuts that sprouted across his flesh and made him bleed. He ignored the imminent collision with the ground. He maintained focus on his own aura, and the connected aura of his friend, Kaylinn Axler. His friend who had saved his life more than once. He spread his wings and he willed himself to fly.
Tree tops brushed against Axler’s body as Ryan finally leveled out and brought them back up. He held onto Axler and flew higher.
“Thanks, Ryan,” Axler said. “I don’t know what happened to you—this new body—but I'm glad it did.”
Ryan grinned. Me too, my friend. Me too.
As he rose into the sky, Ryan projected his thoughts to Dhin in the helicopter. Dhin, lead on. I can carry Axler a ways. At least across the border.
With his acute hearing, Ryan caught Dhin’s response in the physical world, coming softly across the distance. “You got it, Bossman.” The helo’s nose dipped and it angled north.
A thrill of exhilaration rocketed through Ryan as he shot into the sky, following Dhin. We won, he thought. We fragging won.
We beat Darke and the Enemy, and we ’re still alive.
All of us except Talon.
46
Lucero materialized on the plane of cracked rock and looked around. She seemed continually drawn to this place, and it seemed like a good location to start her search for the remnants of Thayla’s light and song. The site of the metaplanar bridge. A place once of immeasurable beauty and heart-wringing song. Transformed into the most hideous and foul-smelling hell.
Now, a verdant forest, rich with trees and ferns, grew at her back as she stared out across a white-washed desert at the spirit-cyborg standing on the edge of the cliff. Brilliant silver light radiated from him and the artifact that he held high over his head as he decimated the final span of the bridge on the far side.
When the cliff faces on both sides of the Chasm had been made completely flat and smooth, the cyborg-spirit lowered the artifact and the light abated somewhat. Lucero noticed that the forest around her was growing quickly, and she had to continually advance toward the cliff edge to avoid being overtaken.
Lucero had learned that with freedom she had gained control over her spirit form, and she had changed it to look like her old physical body when she had been alive and young. Now she took the form of a petite human woman with delicate features. Beautiful fine lines and bone structure. Her skin showed no sign of the runic scarring that had come from the use of blood magic.
The cyborg before her did not move even though he had completed the demolition of the bridge. It seemed to Lucero that he was resting.
I am called Lethe, came a voice into her mind. You are the seed of darkness, or what remains of her. You are the one who breached Thayla’s light.
“I am Lucero. I have come to repair the damage I have done.”
Thayla has fallen.
“I know. Perhaps her beauty can still be found.”
I understand, Lucero. You seek hope.
“Yes.”
May I ask a favor of you?
“I am free, Lethe. I do not have to obey.”
The cyborg had not turned; he seemed to be studying his hand. The extendible fingers that wrapped around the heart-shaped artifact had become fused, and he could not retract them. The artifact was welded to him.
I do not order you to obey, Lucero. I am merely asking your help, one free spirit to another.
“What do you want?”
I managed to save all my friends, but one. A human mage named Talon. His spirit was taken away or thrown into an adjacent metaplane. I’m not sure what happened, but he is gone.
Lucero understood. “I will look for him,” she said. “I have much to atone for.”
Thank you.
Lucero left Lethe, still standing in an apparent stupor, the excess mana from the bridge’s demolition resonating through him. Making his metal and flesh body vibrate and give off light. She left him and searched the forest.
She searched across the planes, shifting from forest to grassy plain to scorched desert. She traveled as fast as she could, her urgency for atonement—even a tiny amount of it—driving her. Across wastelands and frozen tundra, glaciers and urban hellholes where millions of strange creatures lived in the midst of their own defecation and urine.
She knew what the human looked like; she knew the smell of his aura. And she knew she could find him.
How much time had passed before she came upon him, she did not know. He was staggering and nearly dead of thirst. Lost in the salt flats of a remote metaplane. The carcass of a tentacled creature—one of the agents of the tzitzimine—lay a few hundred meters from where she found him.
Their struggle must have brought them here, she thought. And he had barely managed to kill it.
“Are you Talon?” she asked.
His nod was a slight drop of his chin.
He had no stre
ngth to resist her. She scooped him up and carried him, flying desperately with his spirit in tow. She would carry Talon back to Lethe, who would send him into his physical body.
Talon looked at her with grateful, intelligent eyes. A look of such gratitude that she would never forget it. She was trying to save his life, and he placed his trust in her.
No one had ever counted so much on her before. She had never saved anyone before.
In life, she hadn’t even been able to save herself.
As she raced across the metaplanes, Lucero felt a glimmer of the light touch her. A peek at goodness and self-sacrifice. It was the best feeling she’d ever felt and it kept her warm for a long, long time.
47
Back at Dunkeizahn’s Georgetown Mansion, Ryan reclined in the overstuffed leather chair and sipped his cognac. Nearly asleep, his muscles relaxed and his cares gone for the moment, Ryan was in a state of extreme contentment.
Late afternoon sunlight streamed into the sitting room, filtering through the cherry trees in the garden outside. The smell of the cherry blossoms mingled with the aroma of the warm liquor, filling Ryan’s head with a blissful fog.
Ryan blinked to try to stay awake, focusing on the painted elf who sat in a matching leather chair across from him. Harlequin. Despite the early hour, Aina had retired to her room. Jane Foster sat on the floor with her back propped against Harlequin’s legs. Her blonde head lay to the side, resting on the soft leather upholstery. Asleep.
Harlequin gave Ryan a tired smile, and raised his own glass of cognac.
Ryan nodded, and lifted his glass. Hours had passed since he and his team had made it in safely across the Aztlan border and landed at a private airstrip in Austin.
Talon had awakened shortly after, and his aura seemed remarkably undamaged. He’d sat up, looking like he’d been tossed into an Urban Brawl match without body armor—bruises on his face and body. But nothing that wouldn’t heal. He was mostly in need of rest.
Ryan had changed back into his human form, and he immediately authorized a month of corporate-funded R and R for the whole team. Then Ryan had said goodbye to the others and had hopped a private plane for Washington FDC.
Axler, Grind, and Talon went with Dhin to the Assets, Inc. compound. And from there they’d probably take separate vacations to Fiji, the Caymans, or wherever they wanted.
Nadja had been waiting at National Airport when he stepped off the plane. She had looked into his eyes, long and hard, searching for the truth of who he was.
“It’s still me,” he said, though he wondered if he knew what that meant anymore.
She put her arms around him and held him tight. “I know,” she said. “I know.”
“Believe me,” Ryan said. “I’m more surprised at what happened than anyone.”
Nadja laughed. “Guess we know who Dunkelzahn’s successor is.”
“I hope that doesn’t mean my daily job will consist of fighting the supreme forces of darkness.”
“Quit whining,” Nadja said. “It pays well and you get a full benefits package.” She stepped away from him and modeled her body so that he knew exactly what she meant.
“Well, if you put it that way . . .” Ryan swept her into his arms. He had held onto her, letting her guide him to the limousine. He had found himself whispering, “I love you.” Over and over. His face had been wet with tears.
He had cried all the way home.
Now, in the living room of the mansion, Nadja silently entered the room. She wore her green silk robe and matching slippers, and Ryan saw fatigue in her eyes. She said nothing as she slid into the big chair next to him and draped her arm across his chest.
The smell of her filled the air around him as she nuzzled her head into the hollow of his neck. The fragrance of her essence. The warmth of her body, lazily cuddled next to him, was the most perfect and comfortable sensation in his entire existence.
There can be nothing better.
Harlequin looked up at Ryan. “Before we all fall asleep,” he said. “I’d like to propose a toast to Dunkelzahn.” He raised his glass.
Ryan opened his eyes and lifted his drink. “To Dunkelzahn,” he said. “May he rest in peace.”
“A truly heroic creature,” Harlequin said. “Whose sacrifice saved the world from impending destruction.”
Ryan gave him a puzzled look.
Harlequin was nodding, knowingly. “The Dragon Heart,” he said. “I figured out how it was created, how such a powerful item could exist so early in the cycle. Its power came from Dunkelzahn. He killed himself in order to give his essence to the Dragon Heart.”
“Is that possible?”
Harlequin just continued to nod. “It all makes sense. The inexplicable explosion in front of the Watergate Hotel. The manastorm left behind.”
Harlequin gazed into Ryan’s eyes. “Dunkelzahn knew that Darke and the Azzies were trying to extend the spike at the Great Ghost Dance site. I had told him myself, and boy was he pissed off at my solution. In retrospect, he was right. Thayla was a good temporary solution, but she was vulnerable. In my hubris I couldn’t see that.”
“So when I told him about the Locus—” Ryan started. “He realized that time was getting short. He had been stockpiling orichalcum, and had secretly fashioned the Dragon Heart—an item designed to manipulate mana on a scale such that it would be able to destroy unnatural spikes. Dunkelzahn had his solution then, but he needed to power it. I believe he’d been set up to sacrifice himself all along. It was just a matter of when.”
“So he gave up his life to power the Heart?”
“Like I said, he was a true hero.” Harlequin drank once more from his cognac, and when he spoke again his voice was thick with emotion. “He gave himself completely to the salvation of the world, and he took no credit for it. This was no lightweight personal vendetta, no false pride.” Harlequin bowed his head, and his voice went soft.
“Ryan, I have done my share to keep the Enemy at bay, but I could never have imagined making the sacrifice that Dunkelzahn made. Even had I conceived of the dire urgency, which I didn’t because in my pride, I expected Thayla to be practically invulnerable.”
Harlequin looked up, staring into Ryan’s eyes. “You realize that Dunkelzahn was powerful enough that he could probably have survived the Enemy, but that wasn’t good enough, he wanted everyone to survive. He saw hope in the future of metahumanity, and he wanted to ensure that future even if it meant giving up his belongings, his place among the immortals. His very life.”
Ryan sat and watched as the tears flowed down Harlequin’s cheeks.
“He is the hero, and I sit humbled.”
Ryan took a sip from his glass. The sweet burn of the cognac soothed the back of his throat and nudged him toward sleep. Exhaustion and alcohol threatened to carry him under the soft blanket of slumber.
“You are like him, Ryan Mercury,” Harlequin said, his makeup smeared from crying. “You share his heroic qualities, I have seen that. And your nature is most uncommon.”
“How is that?”
“A drake, my friend. A dragon servant.”
“What do you know of drakes?” Ryan asked.
Harlequin considered for a time. Then he spoke, “Other than you, there are no known drakes in the Sixth World. Long ago, before the magic fell, many drakes existed. They were perhaps created by the great dragons, or enslaved in order to serve them. In that way we are not dissimilar.”
“How do you mean?”
“Some elves were once bound to serve the great dragons.”
“How do you know . . . Never mind.”
Harlequin smiled. “You are right to be wary of certain questions,” he said. “But I will tell you this; there are those who will seek to destroy you because of what you are.”
“Why?”
“Again questions.” But Harlequin was still smiling. “For your longevity and magic. Drakes are magical creatures, perhaps even more so than dragons. It is too early in the mana rise for you to have manif
ested. It’s only because of the extreme surge in mana that Lethe sent through you that you changed so soon.
“Over your lifetime, which could easily span the entire Sixth World, you will gain power. You may be hunted now while your power is modest because of your potential to upset an ancient balance of power when you are older, stronger. Or you may be in danger from other great dragons whose agendas’ conflict with Dunkelzahn’s. It is best to keep your nature completely secret.”
“What about those who already know?”
“Do you trust your runners?”
Ryan considered for a minute. “Yes,” he said.
Harlequin nodded. “Good. And you can be certain that I’m not going to tell anyone and neither will Foster. Aina and I are both at odds with the others who share our . . . gifts. We don’t agree with those who manipulate and plot for power, presuming to know what’s best for all the world. Anyhow, I think Aina is on your side for a while; she was impressed with your performance at the bridge.”
Harlequin paused to finish off his cognac. “Your conduct has been truly heroic, my friend. I congratulate you.”
“We’ve all made sacrifices,” Ryan said. “Aina, Lethe, Nadja, Foster. Everyone. Including you.”
Harlequin merely nodded.
Ryan took a last sip from his glass. “Can I ask you a favor, Harlequin?”
The elf looked up.
“You say that I am magical in nature,” Ryan said. “You are the best mage I know. Will you teach me how to use my magic?”
A smile broke through. “I would consider it an honor, my friend.”
“Thank you,” Ryan said as he sank deeper into the cushions, running his hands through Nadja’s dark hair. The flush of sleep overtook him as he sat in the waning rays of sunlight coming through the window. The love of his life cuddled next to him.
What could be better?
Sleep overcame him and pulled him into a world of pleasant oblivion.
Epilogue