The Beholder

by Ivan Amberlake

  He was struck by a thought that he didn’t know the real Emily, and he never had. The Emily he had known had been a lie from the start.

  And if that were true, then how could he possibly know who the Jason standing in front of him really was? It was surreal: being apart from his body, yet so close. Then again, it wasn’t all that different from the sensation he’d had before, when he’d been inside another person and seen himself standing at the side. But he had no time to dwell on that now. During this terrible hour, that was the least important matter.

  Why? Why would the Dark Ones need Debbie? He remembered Damien glaring intently at her when he’d been trying to take one of their trio, after Emily and Tyler had killed one of the attackers. She meant something to him, but what?

  The vise that held his neck tightened again, and Jason heard a low chuckle behind him. He suddenly knew it was Damien who held him there. The cold fingers slithered tighter and tighter around his neck, cutting off his air supply, and threatening to crack his spine. Jason gave in to the pain and prayed for the dream to end.

  His prayer was answered. Everything faded to black, and darkness enveloped him, but this time the darkness was made of cold water. He couldn’t tell if he was dead or alive, and toyed with the idea that perhaps he was somewhere in between. When he thought about it, he wasn’t all that afraid, only curious. It all seemed familiar for some reason. Not that he had seen it before, but … he had heard about it. Heard it from her.

  He was going under, swirling through the darkness to a world where there was no pain.

  ***

  Jason opened his eyes to a new world. His eyes, his skin, his mind, his soul—all of it reached out to touch the pulsing new reality that had seemed so unreal to him before. It couldn’t be a dream. What he saw was a hundred times clearer than what he’d seen in his fusions with Emily.

  It wasn’t madness, either—though what an appealing form of madness it would be! Thin threads of light blue, red, and yellow swirled around him, filling his world with Energy. He became aware of a pillar of bright light, far more intense than the colorful threads, and realized it was his own aura—the aura of the Beholder.

  Jason didn’t move, though everything around him did. He was painfully aware he had no control over what was happening and was afraid any movement might cause something terrible to happen. The outlines of the chamber became more clear as his Sight grew, and though it was still unstable it expanded steadily until he could see much farther beyond the chamber. Energy vibrated wildly around him, as if adjusting to the disruption he had caused by finally turning into the Beholder. Curious, he concentrated his thoughts on a particular person and endeavored to harness his new power.

  Tyler.

  Using his Sight, Jason started scanning the world for signs of Tyler. When those signs appeared, the sensation felt as natural as if he’d seen his friend in the flesh. He was far north and speeding towards him. As he stared into the distance, Jason could see and feel Tyler’s lightning-like approach. Now he found he could slow down the vision of Tyler’s crossing the ocean in several seconds, and see him from this chamber.

  Jason took a step closer to the exit, and the world started vibrating. Still nervous, he moved cautiously, smiling to himself.

  Adjusting to this reality will take time, he thought.

  To make sure he still could, Jason let himself return to his normal reality, hoping to get a little breather from his wild adventure. But the world to which he returned was a withered black-and-white picture, as entering the Sight had been like entering a magical world.

  A picture flickered before his eyes: Matt lying motionless, Emily saying words that chilled his soul … and he entered the Sight again, sending a clear message to Tyler so he understood where he needed to go. Tyler’s eyes widened, then he abruptly changed his route.

  “Message delivered,” Jason said quietly, smiling at his achievement.

  He needed to return to the place where his story had begun. Seconds counted, even though he now knew how to make time slow down.

  “Just believe you can do it. Believe that it’s possible,” she had said.

  But even with everything I can do now, I might be too late. The Prophecy returned, clear as the words she’d originally shared, her small hand quivering over a hungry flame.

  Death’s scythe, hanging over him,

  Will not forget to slash at the crack of dawn.

  Everything would be finished before the crack of dawn.

  Jason scanned the room, remembering that he and Emily had originally entered the chamber through a door that led to a mysterious blackness. The Sight now provided him with the answer to that mystery. The blackness behind the door became a circle of swirling silver threads. That must be the entrance, Jason thought, stepping cautiously towards the silver light. As he did, the threads started to move faster, as though they were aware of his presence.

  When he held out one hand, his fingers trembled, and a thrill shot through him. I understand this. I am a part of this. I am of this world.

  “There are different kinds of Energy, live and dead.” Emily’s voice filled his head.

  Why had she even bothered to tell him all this?

  Holding his breath for courage, he reached forward and stroked the threads tentatively, and they gave him their warmth, tickling the tips of his fingers. His hand edged farther in, and Energy Threads sprung alive at the Beholder’s touch, welcoming him. Swallowing back his fears, he dove through, and found himself back in the dusty old room with overloaded shelves piled high with boxes. Jason was walking along the wide aisle, studying the rows, when he noticed the distances between the rows becoming shorter. As he sped up his steps, the rows started screeching, sliding closer together.

  “Damn!” Jason exclaimed, thinking hard.

  Emily had touched one of the boxes to transport them to the castle. But there were thousands of them, all alike. How could he possibly tell the difference? He grabbed one of the boxes at random, then realized he was still in the same room, holding a dusty box in his hand. What did that mean?

  The distance between the aisles continued to shrink, and Jason realized the only way out was through the velvet vestibule with the candlelit archways. Still pulsing with the Sight, he broke into a run, scanning the shelves as he went. The door loomed at the end of the room—an ominous red, nothing like the dancing silver threads in the chamber. When he saw the red and put the facts together, he realized it made sense that the shelves were toppling towards him. Someone had blocked the entrance, wanting Jason to stay trapped forever.

  Just as the shelves were about to crash, Jason reached the end of the aisle and stopped in front of the door. The red threads started hissing venomously when he reached his hand towards them, and he took it as a test for the Beholder. It was a laughable attempt to stop him, considering the force he had become. With confidence, he pressed his hands against the door, and it started to decompose, the threads sizzling at Jason’s touch. When it had weakened, he wrenched at the enfeebled bundle of threads and smashed the door with his fist, turning the obstacle into tiny fragments of useless wood.

  The threshold shimmered with the symbols he had seen before. But now the incomprehensible words from before were a clear legend stretching the length of the corridor.

  Never re-enter me if your designs are ill.

  Never use the samples if you want them to serve you.

  If your thoughts are ill, they will destroy you.

  Interesting, but hardly a compelling reason for Jason to stop. The corridor had been treacherous before, and he wasn’t sure how it would behave now, but he had no time to weigh his options.

  In the Sight, the velvet corridor looked different, more hypnotizing. Thin trails blurred through the space, apparently having been left by him and the others several hours before. Their edges were visible but indistinct, like fog dispersing without a breeze. The corridor was not unfriendly, but he knew it was too dangerous to step behind the veils. He also knew there wa
s no time to find out what was behind the archways. Darkness stirred its tendrils towards Jason, and the light flickered in a warm breeze.

  The wind, he surmised, is created by my presence.

  He took a deep breath, then bolted through the corridor, shooting past with lithe, calculated movements. With every step he concentrated on each separate arch, collecting the contents of the dark spaces with his hyperactive mind. As he gathered the Energy from the vials, huge amounts of new Energy were released, setting off explosions in his wake. Exalted, reveling in the power that coursed through him, Jason ran faster, becoming more invincible with every step.

  Finally the partition he’d waited for appeared on his left. The reflection of Jason’s dead self approached, its clammy hand extended to grab him, but Jason roared past, smashing the apparition with his fist without even looking. The slimy reflection couldn’t stand up to the force and shattered like a fragile glass statue. With that fear destroyed, crumbled into a pile of ash and dust, Jason lunged towards the exit.

  Having collected all the samples of Energy along the way, it took no effort at all for Jason to open the entrance door, then seal it so all the raging Energy still inside the corridor couldn’t break loose. The door closed just in time, and Jason found himself in the vestibule overlapping the kitchen of McAlester’s. Leaning towards the door, he spotted more symbols shining at him.

  There is no pure good, and no pure evil.

  You may find unexpected things in places where you would never expect.

  Emily had read those lines, understood their meaning so well, then had moved on without a drop of remorse. How could she do this to all of us?

  At the end of the velvet room a tiny sphere of Energy revolved slowly in mid-air. When he approached, the lightning ball shook and hissed, and Jason followed the urge to ask the thing to return him to the place he had known as the ordinary world. The vestibule vanished, and the empty kitchen came in sight. He made way for the door, stepped out of the empty building, then set eyes on a New York he had never seen before.

  That was when he actually understood what it meant to be a Sighted. Before the Sight had come to him, his mind had concerned itself with small objects. Now his attention was riveted on the whole city, like a blast wave after a nuclear explosion as it sprawled and covered everything. It was amazing, standing still and letting his Sight wander, penetrating all physical obstacles and seeing farther than he ever had before. His gaze traveled through skyscrapers and saw through the murkiest corners of the Big Apple.

  A few people wandered the streets, leaving barely visible Energy Trails, and he sensed the frozen auras of the Unsighted. He also sensed the wicked charges of dark Energy, seething and sinister, creeping through the streets at will. For the first time in his life Jason realized evil wasn’t just a word, but matter, strong and repulsive.

  Densely concentrated amounts of evil announced the presence of the Legates and Mindbroken. That’s how they found me, he thought. I’m as repulsive to them as they are to me. Now they awaited him, perched expectantly by the hundreds on the ground, on buildings, seemingly everywhere.

  The motorcycle stood where Jason had left it, near Debbie’s parked car. With everything else going on, Jason had completely forgotten about the vehicles, but now Emily’s words came back to him through the haze.

  Right now it’s safer to ride a bike than fly, and you’ll need it again pretty soon anyway.

  Why could he hear her so clearly? How did he remember the messages she had given in haste so long before? He couldn’t trace her with his Sight, yet her voice permeated his mind as if she were helping him. The vision of her, encouraging Pariah, her voice cold and commanding, kept coming back, sending a shudder through him. Why would she bother to help him? It made no sense. Using the Sight, he tried harder to find her, but it was as if she had simply disappeared. The same applied to Matt and Debbie.

  He couldn’t wait any longer. From what she’d said, she thought he’d need the bike … but did he? With the force he now had at his disposal, Jason could easily travel without the Honda. But the Energy Threads led him to the bike, and he saw it in a new light. The chrome sparkled with rainbows of colors, and the fireball pattern on the gas tank burned with crimson flames against the black shining surface. The leather seat was inviting, and the wheels called for adventure. Yes, he would take one last ride.

  The other reality spilled into Jason’s mind from all directions, bringing the world into a whole new focus. Emily’s Aurora Borealis reflected in his blue eyes when he looked up, and he wondered again: why would she have created this? If he had seen his most recent dream right, why would an aura this breathtaking now hover over New York? Someone with so much treacherous evil in her couldn’t have done it, couldn’t have created such pure beauty … or could they?

  Maybe, just maybe, he had seen the dream wrong. Could it have been a horrible misunderstanding?

  He mounted the Honda, bolstered by a presence he sensed coming from beyond the boundaries of the city. It warmed his insides, and he realized it came from the Energy of Light. William had said there were Lightsighted out there, too, and now mellow rays rolled with Energy, like mirrors directed at the sun and reflecting its radiance. Jason took more strength from knowing he wasn’t alone. Dozens of them existed, and their light was beautiful to behold.

  The Light auras sighed, telling Jason they were in the process of something, and after a few moments of concentration Jason saw they were creating a subconscious whispering, calling for the Unsighted to leave the city. They were removing regular people from New York, encouraging all innocents to leave before the impending battle.

  Jason started up the engine and rushed towards the truth.

  Chapter 35

  Large drops heralded the beginning of rain. Hardly a surprise, Jason thought. It had been raining forever, it seemed. But in the Sight even the rain looked beautiful. Drops fell from the sky in thin, golden threads, each one carrying minute charges of Energy. When they landed, tiny sparks of colors bounced into the air.

  The jigsaw puzzle was coming together, yet some pieces still hadn’t fallen into place no matter how hard he tried to squeeze them into the picture. He had to discover what was missing, or at least why these pieces had incompatible contours. Before this moment, all he had wished was that the fusions would stop. Now he was about to make some of them real.

  The roof, the rain, the skyscraper, and the abyss below. Was Pariah there, waiting for him? The astonishing intensity of his dream throbbed in his veins even now, pushing him forward. The Energy yearned for battle, filling him with a need to get onto the roof and seek out the one who wished him dead.

  Dream and reality were about to become one and the same.

  Jason wrenched at the handgrip, accelerating hard, and the back wheel screeched. As he roared down what Mr. McAlester had called the Guarded Road, a dark, hungry presence closed in around him, ahead and on both sides. Hunters lurked everywhere, no longer heeding any rules. The farther he rode into the midst of them, the more his insides rolled with revulsion. He hoped they felt the same way about him. The Sight helped him see where each particular hunter was located, and he watched every move. Clenching the accelerator, he sped faster still, advancing on a small group ahead. The hunters, standing close to each other, formed a barricade, but Jason never stopped. Blood pounded in his temples as he slowed time, triggering the act just before ramming into the throng of Dark Ones. With all the force he could muster he scattered them, and the ones closer to the epicenter of Jason’s blow were crushed like hard clay. The others writhed and hissed in agony, like snakes. A part of his mind and peripheral vision registered the hunters catching fire. But he felt nothing. As he collided with the small army, he was joined by a dozen or so Lightsighted, who appeared out of thin air to fight alongside him.

  With the rampart destroyed, Jason braked sharply and turned the Honda to face the party who had helped him. They stood in a circle close by, and while most of them watched the hunters swir
l above them, the tallest—a blond man with broad shoulders—stared in awe at Jason.

  “So it’s true!” he exclaimed. “The Beholder has come!”

  Jason regarded the group, a million questions racing through his mind. He grabbed the nearest of them. “Who are you?”

  “I’m Dave,” the man said, and when he met Jason’s gaze his eyes reflected the red auras floating above. He stretched out his hands. “These are my companions. We came to take New Yorkers away from them.” He gave Jason a wide smile. “We felt your Energy, but we had to make sure it was really you.”

  A nearby building exploded as it was attacked by another group of hunters.

  “You have to go,” Dave screamed through the roar. “We’ll hold them back.”

  Jason didn’t have to be told twice. He gripped the handgrips and made a U-turn on the spot, then sped into the rapidly worsening storm. Warm rain pelted his face while lightning flashed, exposing the world, but Jason never hesitated, only sped towards his final destination.

  If he could trick time and space—and he had just proven he could by rushing the hunters—maybe physical laws could be nullified. The idea appealed. The skyline was getting higher, the tall downtown buildings looming closer with every second, and Jason stared up, wondering how he could get on top of it. In the Sight I can do anything, he assured himself.

  When he arrived in the familiar area of the Evelyn & Laurens building, he scanned the area, expecting to find more Darksighted, but there was no one in the vicinity. He looked back up at the roof, shielding his face from the driving rain.

  He needed to focus, to figure out how to break the laws of gravity. He slowed, then set his feet on the pavement on either side of the Honda, letting it purr quietly as he thought about what to do. Jason stared at the skyscrapers, waiting for something, some idea to come to him. What was the clue? How could he get on the roof?