Ascension (The Circle War Book 3)

by Matt King

  August scoffed. “Awfully sure of yourself.”

  “You would be too if you were me.” Gemini glanced lazily around the cove. “You know, I came here thinking I was only going to get the energy from those women once the Oneads killed them. Probably wouldn’t even have been enough to tickle, but it breaks up the boredom. Imagine my surprise when you and your friends showed up. It was like Christmas.”

  A bolt of white came shooting from August’s left. It hit Gemini’s shell and absorbed into the red light. The wisps of energy shooting up from Gemini’s skin nipped at its crackling remains like feeding fish.

  Cerenus hovered near the dock, the wind toying with his crimson cape.

  “Friend of yours?” Gemini asked.

  August didn’t turn to look. “He was just leaving.”

  “August, I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to move away from the bad man.” Cerenus floated closer to the dock.

  “Get out of here, Cerenus.”

  “No, let him stay,” Gemini replied. “He might as well see this up close.”

  “Go back!” August yelled to the godclone. “You’re supposed to protect the others.”

  “The others aren’t standing within arm’s length of an unstable weapon.”

  “I don’t need your help.”

  “August, listen to him.” It was Aeris’ voice. She stood at the steps to the dock. “Let him handle this.”

  “Aeris, get back. It’s not safe here.”

  “It’s not safe for you either.”

  “I think it’s time to put an end to this lovers’ spat,” Gemini said. He pushed away from August and rose above the water. The red beneath his skin boiled, growing brighter by the second. “Don’t worry. I’ll make it quick.”

  “We’re not done!” August yelled.

  “Yes, we are.”

  A low vibration grew in the air, prickling at August’s skin beneath his armor. Water from the cove sloshed against the dock. A smell like spent firewood filled his nose.

  No, not again.

  “Goodbye, August. Sorry you’ll never get a chance to answer my question.”

  Gemini’s light swelled. He looked like a sun on the verge of explosion. Fiery sparks leapt off his skin, multiplying until they nearly filled the sphere.

  Just as he was about to release his blast, a synapse opened behind him. Cerenus pushed him through to the dead of space on the other side and ripped the portal closed before Gemini could erupt.

  At once, the water in the cove fell still once again. The vibrations deadened. August stared at the empty spot where Gemini had been, his breaths quick in his chest.

  “If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a hundred times,” Cerenus said. “There’s nothing a good synapse can’t fix.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  On the verge of giving Pyra breath once again, Amara felt the pressure of her plan’s culmination as she arrived at the spot where she meant to make the final sacrifice to her creator. It was a sacrifice that would give Amara true life, life beyond the universe where she ruled as a god without equal.

  But not without challenge.

  Pyra stood as a towering monolith of black stone indistinguishable from the surrounding darkness of space. Amara guided her through the final synapse and then closed the portal. They floated in an arathy, an expansive section of the universe, void of life. The wandering eyes of the gods paid little attention to arathies. There were no worlds to claim, and therefore they were of no interest to the power-hungry immortals of the Circle. Pyra would be safe concealed in its darkness.

  The stillness of the arathy was a welcome calm to the constant chaos of the universe. She positioned Pyra in the center of the void, hovering in the silent respite. The green eyes and pulses of energy she’d witnessed after Pyra’s rebirth had receded during their trek across the universe, only appearing as intermittent swells of light in patches along her body. Amara wondered if perhaps her sacrifice of Balenor was already fading, his life energy spent so quickly. The light of Amara’s amorphous body fell gently on the dull, rocky face of her goddess as she transformed into her human form. She made sure to make herself slightly smaller than Pyra, roughly the size of a small planet.

  Like Earth.

  She recoiled at the thought of the cursed world. Paralos had come too close to killing her champions. She and Galan had managed to salvage much of his fleet during the fight with Cerenus, but Talus had suffered at the hands of Meryn’s monster. The fires neutralized his rocky skin, rendering it little more than a lifeless, brittle shell. Much of it had fallen away from her beautiful creation. He was vulnerable now, but the loss of his invincibility was an afterthought compared to the fate of her Michael, a fate she was eager to learn once she’d secured her future.

  He will betray you, child.

  Amara bowed her head instinctually at the sound of Pyra’s voice in her thoughts. She changed her inner light to a deep shade of blue out of honor and respect.

  Pyra entered her mind gently, like wind passing through blades of grass. The barren darkness of the arathy faded from sight, replaced by a vision of endless fields rolling to meet an impenetrable sapphire sky. A single mountain stood ahead of her, topped by an ivory-columned temple wearing laces of ivy. Her silver hair stirred in the breeze.

  “Ascension is beautiful, is it not?” Pyra said. She was a stunning display of beauty herself, nearly too perfect to look upon. In Amara’s mind, she appeared as human, like her, with flawless black skin and eyes that reflected her surroundings like a mirror. Amara could see herself in their faces.

  “It is as you’ve told me.”

  “One of the few teachings you’ve taken to heart.”

  Amara closed her eyes as though it might shield her from the rot of dread spreading through her body.

  “The boy, for instance,” Pyra said. “I have seen into your mind. Seen your memories. He wants power, not to help bring about the return of Ascension.”

  “He only wishes for the power to punish those who have wronged him.”

  “And does he not include you in that group now?”

  “Impossible,” she replied. Immediately, she felt the heat of embarrassment. “I only mean that Michael has been conditioned to think of me as his savior. He would never betray me. I mean too much to him.”

  “He thinks of you as his savior? He and I have that in common, it seems, though one of us is clearly thought of ahead of the other.”

  Amara shrunk, afraid to look into Pyra’s reflective eyes.

  “You’ve left him vulnerable, Amara. Paralos will seize on your failure. You made the boy to be dependent on you, but comfort and strength can be given by more than just you. Paralos knows this. If he finds the boy first, he may try to turn him to his side. I fear the boy may be all too eager.”

  “Paralos would never dare,” Amara said. “We are bound by rules. Even he would not break them.”

  “Your rules are nothing but promises waiting to be broken. They are also the reason I have yet to fully reclaim my life.”

  “It is only because of my rules that the universe has had order.”

  Pyra scoffed. “Your will is so important?”

  Amara stood in shame, feeling the anchor of her pride.

  “Paralos will turn the boy to his side. He will be furious after his loss and will want to unleash your champion against you. Michael is strong, my child. Stronger even now, so much that there are no others that can match him.”

  “I would never allow Michael to use his powers against my own.”

  “He may not give you that choice.”

  “Then I will stop him. He is mine to control, no other’s.”

  “He is beyond control. You know this. However, it may not be necessary to control him, rather only to…detain him.”

  The words left her hollow. She imagined trapping Michael in the same shackles she bound Balenor in before she sacrificed him, and immediately washed the vision from her mind. “No,” she said.

  “I require
only one more soul to regain my life.”

  “It cannot be Michael’s.”

  “One more soul and then you will be free of this unnatural immortality. Free to join me at my side as we rule Ascension.”

  A gust of wind punctuated Pyra’s words. Amara looked around at the idyllic countryside she’d imagined so many times. Her eyes drank in the beauty of the world so frustratingly foreign to her, a world where the souls of her universe, once transformed into heavenly beings, might finally be free of the shackles of despair, anger, and everything else that poisoned her reality. Free. It was a feeling more than a word, a sense of purpose realized. It was her destiny to guide the Circle to their true home. She knew that, and yet, was she prepared to walk down a path she had not chosen? Her plan was working—and would continue to work. Why should she have to sacrifice one of her own when she was so close to victory?

  “Your hubris gets the best of you, Amara. You cannot win a war if you will not fight it.”

  “But I have been fighting.”

  “No.” Pyra’s eyes seemed to somehow catch the light of the sun as anger filled her voice. “You have allowed your enemies to live too long. You focus on Paralos because you want your enemy dead, but there are others who are more vulnerable.”

  “Meryn,” Amara said, speaking the name before Pyra read it in her mind.

  “She can be beaten easily, and yet you’ve let her champions live. Perhaps because you still hope she will come groveling back to your side.”

  “I only thought—”

  Pyra lowered her head. “At times I wonder if it is your true fate to bring Ascension back. I question my choice of conduit.”

  “Please,” Amara said.

  “Perhaps I should have chosen Paralos. At least he shows the fortitude to make a necessary sacrifice.”

  “No! I am strong enough.”

  “Your actions speak otherwise.”

  “I can bring you your soul. I will.”

  “Then do it.”

  The blue skies of Ascension disintegrated into the darkness of the arathy again. Amara felt herself wanting to grasp at the image as it faded away, leaving her with nothing but a naked sense of dread as she once more floated in front of the lifeless husk of her goddess. Pyra’s voice rang in her mind, her admonishment like a crack in the glass that threatened to shatter her world. Before Balenor’s death, Pyra’s words had been only whispers. Now that Amara had witnessed her wrath, she wished to never hear such things again.

  She gathered herself, trying to draw strength from the knowledge that she was still the most powerful being in the universe. She was still Amara—ruler of the Circle—and even though some might challenge her, none would win.

  There, Pyra said through her thoughts again, her voice like a sponge drinking in Amara’s confidence. There is the strength I was drawn to. There is the Amara I knew could give me life.

  “I know you have entrusted me with great purpose, and I do not take this lightly, but you have also trusted me to guide the chosen to their place in Ascension. Paralos, Meryn…they do not deserve this end. Michael does.”

  Amara…

  “If Paralos has led Michael astray as you have foreseen, then he is the one who will pay for that choice, not my own. Michael can be saved. Meryn can be defeated. My plan has almost come to fruition. I need only a short amount of time to see it through.”

  Pyra’s emerald energy brightened.

  “I will not fail you. You will have your soul, my goddess. You will have your life.”

  Make your choice, child, but do it quickly. See your plan to its end. When I gain my life I will fulfill my promise: your immortality in this universe will come to an end, and you and your chosen shall live again.

  “In Ascension,” Amara said.

  In Ascension, Pyra promised. As it was meant to be.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Michael understood what had happened as soon as he started to reclaim the energy from his misfired blast. He’d destroyed a world, but killed no champions. The man in the golden suit of armor—Cerenus, August had called him—had created a synapse somehow and sent him through it to another planet. Only gods knew how to do that. Interference from the gods wasn’t supposed to be allowed. The Circle seemed to be breaking rules left and right.

  He drifted alone in open space, surrounded by the remnants of a shattered planet, just like he’d been after killing Velawrath. Chunks of scorched debris floated past him. When he turned, he saw sunlight reflecting off a nearby world the size of a quarter in the distance. The whites and blues on its surface reminded him of Earth, and it was a rancid memory of a world twice forgotten.

  A second light appeared, distracting him. He shielded his eyes from the synapse opening. Paralos broke through, a blinding figure of pure energy.

  “How did you find me?” Michael asked.

  “I marked you.”

  “Well unmark me. I don’t need a watchdog.”

  “You’ve been stranded in the middle of space once before. I’m surprised you’d want to repeat that.”

  “I can take care of myself.”

  “I believe you’ve just proven otherwise.”

  Paralos drifted past him, disintegrating the scattered rocks along his path. He faced the world in the distance. “Never let it be said that Cerenus doesn’t have a sense of humor.”

  Michael floated to his side. “What do you mean?”

  “This is one of my worlds,” he answered, pointing to the globe in the distance. “The world where I harvest the Oneads, actually. What you’ve destroyed was one of its moons. Cerenus did this as a message.”

  “That he knows where you live?”

  “No. That next time he’ll move you closer.”

  Fine by me. “I don’t understand why he was allowed to do that in the first place. He’s a god.”

  “Cerenus is smart. He’s created a clone of himself and transferred most of his power to it. Too late to win this war, but…an interesting choice.” Without lifting a finger, Paralos drew all of the remaining pieces of the exploded moon toward him, melting the rocks against his surface.

  It was the kind of nonchalant display of power the god knew would make Michael hungry. Instead of jealousy, though, he only felt anger. He was already on the path to becoming the most powerful of all the champions, but things weren’t moving fast enough anymore. Now that he had Paralos’s attention, he could finally bring it up. “We have a problem,” he said.

  “So soon in our fledgling partnership.” He looked like he was still thinking about Cerenus’s clone.

  “I’m not gaining power like I used to.”

  Paralos faced him, the last of the moon fragments still melting into his skin. “How so?”

  “I took every bit of energy from the dead on that battlefield. I barely felt a thing.”

  “Not enough Vontani died.”

  “It’s not that,” Michael replied. “Their energy didn’t feel any different than your army’s.”

  If the news fazed Paralos, he didn’t show it. “Is this the first time you’ve felt this?”

  Michael nodded.

  “I imagined this day would come. Your strength has grown, meaning you will need more to make it grow further.”

  “How much more?”

  The god seemed lost in thought for a long pause. “If you want power to match the gods, you’ll need to kill something with nearly equal strength.”

  “Like what?”

  Michael thought he could see the hint of a smile behind the blinding light of the god’s face. “The Orphii. A race you’ve seen before, nearly god-like themselves. The trick will be to find them. Once we do—and once they are all dead—I know now exactly where to find your final target.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “So, there I was,” Cerenus said from his spot in the middle of a circle of Vontani. The flickering light from the torches in the Reventry reflected off his metal armor. “My first fight in this war, mind you, and I’d managed to get myself cornered in t
his cave with a wave of Galan’s Ministers right behind me.”

  August stood against a nearby wall with the Horsemen at his side, listening to the same story he’d heard a dozen times already. The ending usually changed depending on Cerenus’ audience. If they were male, he went into the cave bloodied, but still standing strong from the fight. If he was talking to women, he was near-death by the time he got cornered.

  “I was near-death,” he continued. “Barely able to stand, let alone fly.”

  Behind his face shield, August wished he could roll his mechanical eyes.

  “I went as far back into the cave as I could, to the point where there was no more light. Soon I reached the end and turned to see two hundred cyborg warriors bearing down on me.”

  August muttered to the Horsemen, “Last time it was only a hundred.”

  “What did you do?” one of the Vontani asked.

  “Besides pray to myself?”

  A spattering of laughter flowed through the women, including Aeris, who stood near the back of the pack. It was the first time August had seen her smile in months, let alone laugh. She looked at home with her people. He couldn’t remember her ever seeming so comfortable before. Her eyes moved between the women before settling again on Cerenus.

  Cerenus took a long drink of frille before letting one of the Vontani fill his glass again. “As I was saying, the situation was hopeless. Once the Ministers saw they had me cornered, they triggered their weapons in unison. Two hundred cyborgs wielding light staffs formed from the same energy shielding their impenetrable shells. The light from the staffs lit the ceiling like a sunrise. I happened to look up, and what did I see but countless numbers of jenkari hanging from the rock. I’d never been so happy to see the acid-toothed vermin in all my years. The jenkari came down on them in a swarm, drawn to their light like…well, jenkari to a flame. While the Ministers were busy getting torn to shreds, I took the opportunity to summon all of my power and release a blast that shot the entire group of machines back through the cave opening in a huge eruption of fire. Your lovely Aeris saw the whole thing, didn’t you, my dear? I believe you had the best description of it.”