The Beholder
Page 20
The words were about to come true, and in a horrible, grief-stricken thought, Jason wished Pariah would just finish him, the quicker the better. The next treachery, he was sure, would come from Emily. He was ready for that.
But he was not ready for what happened instead.
Pariah’s remaining lash sliced through the air, aimed directly at him. It was too fast.
But in the moment that Pariah’s attention was focused on Jason, Emily was there, her gaunt face flushed and furious, amber eyes alight with vengeance. She flew at Pariah, hurling a great white light at him, and throwing him back against the wall as if he weighed no more than a rubber ball. His expression was incredulous, black eyes wide with surprise, and though his mouth moved, no sound came out while he fought to catch his breath.
“You killed my parents,” Emily hissed, looming over him like an avenging angel, the silver air around her crackling with Energy. “You killed my grandfather, a good man who never hurt a soul. You dragged me through your dark world, and you showed me your fear: that the Beholder would come and replace you. Well, I have brought you the Beholder as you asked.” Her voice dropped lower, until it sounded almost like a growl, and Jason wondered if he’d ever really known her at all. “But you made a very grave error, Pariah. You were too shortsighted. You underestimated me.”
A stream of lethal silver light jolted from her hands, but Pariah wasn’t as stunned as he appeared. The lash whipped up again, licking the left side of Emily’s neck. And yet, though the burn ripped into Emily’s throat, pain tore through Jason, as if lightning had cleft his neck in two. Helpless, he watched Pariah fling her lifeless body out the window, watched those slender, graceful hands fly wide apart like a star, her long tangles of dark hair tangle over her ashen face.
Then she was gone. Not even her aura remained. Jason searched, but couldn’t trace her in any direction. It was as if she’d been nothing more than a figment of his imagination.
“Now only you and I are left.”
Pariah’s voice echoed through the room, dark and loathsome. What he said was true: no one remained but them. Good and Evil. Light and Dark. One would soon be dead.
“Let’s finish it,” Jason said, and took the first step.
He stepped past his friends, past the people he loved, past the window where his brave, beautiful Emily had been tossed, and his emotions overwhelmed his sanity. Pariah will regret he ever met the Beholder, Jason promised himself, then fought for everyone he’d loved and lost. He lunged forward, his first strike smashing into Pariah’s chest. Air ripped out of the creature and Jason’s second strike hammered against its skull. The Evil One withdrew, suffering from the blows.
“You will pay for everything,” Jason promised, his voice a low promise.
Panic flickered in Pariah’s eyes, then suddenly he vanished. Jason’s Sight showed the monster falling to the lower floors, going through the floors. Jason, seething with hate, followed suit.
Reality was an illusion, and Jason had to bring it under control. His heart raced as he went after Pariah, but now Jason was faster, in his element again. He finally understood that there was no one stronger or quicker in the whole world. No one’s Energy shone brighter.
As they fell, Jason recalled the samples in his pocket, the emotions he had gathered from the corridor earlier that day, and knew it was time to make use of at least one. He ripped the sample of Fear from within and threw it at the dark figure of Pariah. The monster howled, sounding terrified, then ran towards a window, clearly planning to leap.
Jason leaped forward and grabbed Pariah before he could jump. Using everything he had, he smashed the Evil One until he could feel Pariah losing his spirit and strength, until he no longer blocked Jason’s blows. Then Jason’s last punch went amiss, grazing Pariah’s shoulder, shooting pain through Jason’s arm and hurling the two Sighted men apart. Both plummeted to the ground, squirming in agony.
Just before they hit the ground, Pariah vanished, and Jason slowed himself so he landed safely in a pool of water, though pain still sliced the knuckles of his fist.
He didn’t move. He wished he’d never have to move again. Pariah was gone, and the fight was over for now. But he couldn’t stay here. He had one more task to perform. In spite of the pain, Jason got up and rushed back to Floor 24.
Chapter 37
Jason reached what was left of his office and let go of the Sight, then immediately regretted it as the shattering pain of reality returned. His neck burned, his hand throbbed as if huge nails had been hammered into his flesh. But his physical pains were nothing compared to the fear of finding his friends dead.
Their bodies lay sprawled around the room, and Jason knelt by the closest one. William McAlester lay perfectly still, bewilderment frozen forever in his wide open eyes.
“I’m so sorry, William,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.” Very gently he pressed his fingers on his old friend’s eyelids, then closed the dead eyes out of respect. He pressed those same fingers against his own closed eyes, trying not to let tears out.
A sound caught his attention, and hope fluttered in Jason’s heart. It came from the center of the room, from where Matt lay. Jason ran to Matt’s side, incredulous.
“Matt! Are you all right? Say something, buddy!”
Matt groaned again, then very slowly shook his head. “I think I’d rather be dead right now. God, I feel awful. Is it over?” he managed.
“Yes, for now,” Jason muttered. “Don’t move.”
Jason took a few steps in Debbie’s direction and carefully turned her onto her back. Her fragile hand felt cold, but when he pressed, the vein in her wrist responded with a light pounding, though Jason feared it was too shallow and erratic. A glint of gold distracted him, and he scooped up the necklace he and Matt had given her for her birthday, then closed his fingers tight over it.
“I believe in you,” he whispered into her ear. “And I’m not gonna let you get away from me and Matt this easily, no matter how annoying we are. You’re going to have to put up with us for years.”
He entered the Sight, and her aura flared, identical to his own. It vibrated unsteadily in a light blue, clinging to her body. Jason looked past it, seeing her inner organs, witnessing the beating of her heart and blood coursing through her veins. Though it had been invisible in the ordinary world, Jason could now see that her neck had been badly damaged by Damien’s grip. Dark Energy still wrapped around Debbie’s throat, squeezing, smothering her.
Jason set his hand against her injured neck, then concentrated on removing all the malignant energy. When he had extracted it all, Jason tore his palm off Debbie’s skin and clenched an iron fist, crushing the particles of evil Energy with all his might. Debbie gasped and coughed, though the sound she made was pitiful. She pressed her hand to her stomach, in obvious pain with each cough. She groaned, and Jason was overjoyed to hear it.
“Jase, what—” Her words were cut off by more coughing, and tears rolled from her eyes.
“Be quiet for a while, Debbie. Everything’s all right.”
But it wasn’t. Not far from them lay Tyler, but Jason’s body shielded Debbie from the view. She caught his expression and narrowed her eyes.
“What is it? Where’s Matt?” she asked.
“Matt’s all right,” Jason assured her.
“Then—?” Debbie’s lips froze in question.
“Tyler is dead.” He lowered his gaze, still confused. Why would Emily have struck Tyler down? “She killed him.”
Debbie’s face paled even further, and she rolled so she could crawl to Tyler’s side. Tears streamed down her cheeks, cutting a trail through the dust on her skin, and when she reached him she lowered her face to his chest.
“Tyler, wake up!” she pleaded, swallowing a sob. “Please, Tyler. Don’t leave me!”
Jason moved to check Tyler’s pulse, but Debbie shoved him away. “Don’t touch him!” she screamed, then thumped Tyler’s chest as hard as she could. “Please, don�
�t go! Please!”
“Debbie—” Jason started, wanting to pull her away, but he stopped short when he heard an unexpected voice.
“I won’t … as long as you don’t kill me.”
“Tyler!” Debbie exclaimed, then leaned in to kiss him gently on his lips.
Jason turned away, silently celebrating Tyler’s recovery. If they hadn’t lost Mr. McAlester, tonight wouldn’t have been a failure. They’d fought against evil and repelled the attack.
“Tyler?” Jason said quietly. “Why did she strike you?”
“I don’t know, but she didn’t hurt me. Something about her Energy knocked me unconscious, but caused me no pain. It was as if she wanted everyone to believe something—that she was evil enough to kill me. But she could never kill me.”
“Where is Emily?” Debbie asked.
Jason looked away. “She’s gone. She did what she could, but he overpowered her.”
Tyler closed his eyes, looking crushed. “Oh no,” he whispered.
Matt struggled to his feet and moved towards McAlester. “He was a good man,” he said quietly.
Jason nodded. “If it weren’t for him, I’d be dead.”
Tyler said nothing, but looked even more unhappy. Jason knew he blamed himself for William’s death since Tyler’s ray had been the one which had ricocheted into William.
The Prophecy had foretold death, and it was somewhat of a relief for Jason to realize the part about death hadn’t been about him. But he felt devastated—and angry at having lost Emily. Especially like this. How could she have done all this without telling him? He’d thought their connection had gone so much deeper, but he’d been wrong.
Jason slumped and left the Sight, feeling utterly exhausted and shattered with grief. A torn piece of paper lay among the debris littering the floor, and Jason picked it up, surprised to discover it was the missing part of the picture he had found in the secret room in Monsieur Bertrand’s study. A small girl looked at him from the past, smiling innocently, but now it hurt to look at her face. He flipped the photo over and saw the letter ‘H’ scribbled on the back.
Tired of riddles, he dropped the picture and headed towards a broken window, picking his way around the daggers of plastic and glass sticking from the walls, ceiling, and floor. He crushed one such dagger with his boot, wishing he could do the same to his bitterness and pain. A cool breeze passed through the non-existent window and licked his cheek, and Jason noticed the rain had finally stopped. The first ray of sun pushed through the massive clouds which still dominated the sky, painting their edges a vivid crimson. The dawn of a new day. Jason clenched his teeth against the pain and stared at the sun without blinking. More rays pierced the pall of darkness like gigantic swords, letting the light gush from the dark clouds’ wounds and warm the streets of New York. The buildings, which had been little more than huge tombstones only moments before, transformed back into their proper form.
Then he saw them: small dots in the sky, coming closer. Curious, Jason entered the Sight and stared at the scene before him. About a hundred of the dots soared into the sky, except in the Sight the dots were revealed to be beautiful auras, radiating triumph, and Jason knew they were the Lightsighted, all of them heading in the direction of E&L building.
But their joy was too painful to bear. Jason turned away and went out of the Sight. He couldn’t celebrate, only mourn. Emily was dead. William was dead. Didn’t they know? His vision blurred behind a wash of tears.
Chapter 38
What happened that night changed Jason forever. He felt like a different man—one who had experienced far too much.
The day’s dawn brought an end to his fusions. Apparently he had seen all he was supposed to see. Oddly, that didn’t provide him with much relief. Daybreak symbolized a new beginning, though it was as unpredictable now as it had been in the beginning. It was impossible for Jason to know what might happen in the future, or whether danger lurked behind every corner.
Jason didn’t want to be the chosen one, and yet if he was destined to become the Beholder, he knew he was meant to do something with that power. He was determined to learn about Energy itself as well as its laws. The dangerous past of the Darksighted threatening and killing Unsighted people would be revealed to him.
Emily. Her face never quite disappeared from his mind. Jason closed his eyes, trying to shove the vision away, trying to lose the sickening memory of her helpless body being thrown out the window.
Chapter 39
The following day they buried William McAlester in a brief ceremony. Few words were spoken, because nothing needed to be said. Tyler, Jason, Debbie, Matthew, and a group of black-suited Sighted ones all huddled around the grave, trying to keep warm. The weather was chilly, a cool wind matching the dull, monochrome sky, and only once did the sun manage to break through. The trees rustled in the wind, adding an optimistic glint of green to the day, but the gloom within the souls of the Sighted saw no color but gray.
Tyler looked emaciated, his eyes circled by dark black lines over sunken cheeks. He spoke less now, and his eyes never smiled. He was eaten up with guilt over William, and his heart was heavy with the news that Emily, his best friend, had been killed by Pariah. After the burial Tyler left without telling anyone where he was going or for how long. Debbie fell deep into depression, missing him terribly.
A few days after the funeral, the trio sat in the familiar comfort of Debbie’s living room, talking about the experience.
“You really have no idea what happened before I found you at the office?” Jason asked Matt and Debbie.
“No,” Matt said. “All I remember is entering the chamber and feeling exhausted.”
Debbie sighed. “When I woke up, that guy’s hand was around my neck.” She winced and rubbed at her neck, as if the icy fingers were still there. “Then I saw you, but you looked kind of different from what you normally look like.”
It seemed the missing scenes would remain a mystery to them all. At the sound of the front door latching quietly, all three looked up. They waited in silence, listening to the footsteps draw closer.
“Surprise,” came a familiar voice.
With a squeal, Debbie jumped to her feet and ran to Tyler, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I knew you’d come back,” she said, her cheeks flushed pink. She kissed him lightly, her eyes searching his. “I missed you.”
Tyler gave her a wry smile that deepened her blush. “I couldn’t stand another minute without you,” he admitted.
He took her face in his hands and kissed her longer, and Matt exchanged a laughing glance with Jason. When the kiss finally ended, Debbie stepped away, a dreamy smile on her face. Then her gaze sharpened and she frowned at his neck.
“What’s that?” she asked. “What’s wrong with your neck?” She covered her mouth with one hand while tracing the scar with the other.
Jason hadn’t told the others Tyler’s story, but that was just as well. It was Tyler’s to tell.
Tyler cleared his throat and stood a little taller. “I wanted to show you who I really am,” he said, looking slightly apprehensive. His eyes met Jason’s, and the gray in Tyler’s became wary. “She told you?”
“Yes.”
“Do you mean to say you know about—”
“—the other scars? Yes.”
“Can you tell us now?” Debbie asked, and Tyler forgot all about Jason.
As he told Matt and Debbie in brief about how he had gotten his gift and scars, Jason returned to Debbie’s laptop, scrolling the newspaper articles and thinking hard.
“That’s why you wore a high collar and a cloak all the time!” Debbie exclaimed.
Jason looked up, remembering the end of the story about Tyler. Emily had said the scars had been the price he’d paid to rid himself of all evil. But she had also said Tyler expected that evil to come back someday, that it couldn’t possibly be so simple. She seemed to agree with him, because she said, “Once I Prophesied that he would, and that may let evil back inside his s
oul.”
The most horrible thing was that Jason knew what had originally made Tyler such a special person—the killing of Emily’s parents and granddad.
“Tyler, do you remember what made you Sighted?” Jason asked.
“No,” he said, his expression getting somber. “Emily told me I’d remember it, but nothing so far.” Something in Jason’s reaction alerted Tyler. “Wait. Do you know something? Did she tell you anything about it?”
“Nothing special,” Jason lied. “Pretty much the same thing you just said.”
Jason gave him a vague smile, then returned to looking through the pictures. He had almost given up when they appeared: the pictures of the victims in the long ago car crash. He saw Emily’s parents and her grandfather, but Emily was nowhere in sight. Then he began to read the article below the pictures, and his eye was caught by a collection of letters, which he identified as the initials of the Sighted engaged in killing and abducting Jason’s protectors. He took a closer look and started mouthing, “EH, DB twice, SC, CD twice, PvdT, DSC.” And then the last, “EE”.
Jason didn’t have a clue as to who the majority of these people were, but assumed “DB” was Damien Bale, and “CD” belonged to Catherine Delacroix. The other was “EE”—Emily Ethan—the two letters that made Jason’s world crumble. But the number of initials was wrong. According to his calculations, there should have been ten marked people and places. He counted twice, then another time, and came up each time with eleven, not ten.
But that couldn’t be, because N—New York—the last letter of the message, had been the eleventh. Debbie was his eleventh protector, and she’d survived.
Jason googled for more information, and one site in particular attracted his attention. While all the other pictures had shown only one mark at each place, he could see a wall in one picture, and it had been marked twice, the initials EE and AHS glowing close to each other.
Why would Emily have done that? he thought. Wouldn’t one mark have been sufficient? And who was AHS?