“Me too,” he said. He genuinely looked like Nik now—actual Nik, not that strange, superimposed version of him from the trial chamber—face, eyes, tattoos, and all. Re had altered his own appearance to strengthen the illusion that Nik was truly here, not just in spirit by way of their strange connection, borrowing Re’s body.
“How’s your head?” I asked.
He shrugged one shoulder lazily. “Maybe a four.” The corners of his mouth tensed, his brows bunching together. “I think it helps that I’m not pushing myself to the point of passing out every half hour . . .”
“Trust me, if this wasn’t necessary, I wouldn’t be doing it. Tapping into the Essence hurts like a bitch.” I gave his hand another squeeze. “So how much longer do I get you?”
“A few minutes,” Nik said. “I need to help the others pack up and move out.”
I stuck out my bottom lip in a pout and made a soft whimpering noise. The melodramatic gesture masked my genuine heartbreak at knowing he would be leaving me soon.
“Don’t worry, Kitty Kat,” Nik said, the faintest smirk touching his lips. “I’ll come back as soon as we’re settled. But to tide you over until then . . .” He withdrew his hand from mine and shifted so he was on his knees beside me. Gently, he pushed on my shoulder, rolling me onto my back.
My heart gave an enthusiastic couple of beats. There was no mistaking the desire glowing in his pale eyes.
Nik leaned over me, closing the distance between our lips. The kiss was light, restrained. He brushed his fingertips across my abdomen, but the touch was so much more than physical. Tendrils of his ba somehow crossed the immense distance separating us and slipped through my skin, skimming along the surface of my soul like fingers trailing through water.
For the briefest slice of eternity, our souls blended together, and I was both here in my bedroom-cell with Nik-Re and back in my universe, sitting beside Nik on a piece of driftwood on the beach, staring out at the Puget Sound. Our bas merged, and we were one being for a fraction of a heartbeat.
But all too soon, the moment passed, and all that was left was his borrowed fingertips lightly grazing my skin. He kissed me one last time, then exhaled his regret and pulled away.
Gods, I missed him. So damn much. I’d probably only been gone a matter of days, but my soul ached to be back on earth with his, staring out at the restless Puget Sound, shooting the shit and teasing each other with innuendo-laden comments. And then following up all of that innuendo with some seriously lascivious acts. Nik wasn’t a perfect person, but he was my perfect person—just as I was his—and it hurt my soul to be away from him for even this long.
“I miss you,” I said, staring up at him.
What if things went seriously south here, and I never made it back to him? What if this was the closest we would come to being together again?
I had no idea what the Mother of All had planned for me once she’d obliterated my species. If I failed to stop the slaughter—to stop her—would I ever be able to join my people in Aaru? If the Mother killed Nik, it was only a matter of time until I died too. He’d bought me some more time on the withdrawal clock by being here, but only another day or two. Eventually my body would succumb to the bonding withdrawals. What would happen to me after that? Would my ba be stuck in this prison cell for all of eternity? Or—
“Stop, Kitty Kat,” Nik said softly, resting his hand flat against my belly.
My brows rose. “Stop what?”
“Panicking,” he said, pressing another, gentle kiss against my lips. “Don’t let this situation beat you. You’re better than that. You’re stronger. You just focus on what you need to do over here, and I’ll take care of things at home.”
I looked away, focusing on the squat wooden pegs at the base of the violet armchair in the corner of the room and fighting back tears. I just hoped he was right. If anybody could protect our people, it was Nik. I may have had the potential to be insanely powerful, but he already was.
“You should go,” I said softly. “Keep our people safe.” So long as they were still alive, there was still hope. Right now, that was the single thing keeping me going.
“Kat . . .”
“Tell Lex I—” I choked back a silent sob, then cleared my throat. “Tell her I’m sorry I couldn’t help the twins. Tell her—” I shook my head weakly. “Tell her I’ll do everything in my power to keep Reni from the same fate.” I looked at Nik, reaching for his hand and squeezing his fingers. “I love you.” I let out a shaky, breathy laugh. It was either that or start crying. “I love you so damn much.”
“Yeah,” Nik said. “I know, Kitty Kat. I love the shit out of you, too.” His eyes burned with sudden intensity. “So you better get it together and take this bitch down. We need you here. I need you here.”
I lifted my head, stretching out my neck to press my lips against his. “Go,” I said when I pulled away. “Now.”
He didn’t waste any time. His features melted back into their natural shape—Re’s natural shape. His eyes were the last thing to change. Once the final hint of pale blue was gone, I knew that Nik was, too.
“Katarina,” Re said, “I—”
“Don’t.” I turned my head, looking away from him. “Please, just don’t.”
In my peripheral vision, I watched him straighten. “I didn’t understand before,” he said. “I didn’t know the truth about the Mother, and I couldn’t see your place in the grander scheme. But I do now, and I’m sorry.”
“For what?” I asked without looking at him.
“For wanting to kill you.”
I laughed bitterly. “Which time?” When I was eighteen and hunting down those responsible for my mom’s death? Or when his hatred of me sent Nik into a three-year coma? Or a month ago, when he’d tried to convince Nik that killing me was the only way to save the universe?
Re was quiet for a moment. “All of them.”
22
My hackles rose as Anapa entered my cell through the doorway he’d just created.
I was lying on my back on the bed, my arms tucked behind my head, resting between Essence-tapping sessions. After a half dozen attempts, my ability to wield that alien power was growing in leaps and bounds.
Re was sitting in the purple armchair in the corner, where he’d been for the last hour or so. My ability to channel and wield Essence had surpassed his a few attempts back, and he’d retreated to the chair to spend his time running through the different variables that might affect the execution of our fast-tracked plan.
“What is it?” I asked Anapa. From the set of his features and the wariness shadowing his eyes, I had a feeling we were about to run into one of those less-than-awesome variables. I slid my arms out from under my head and propped myself up on my elbows. “What’s going on?”
Re shifted forward in the purple armchair, roused from his thoughtful daze.
Anapa turned to face the wall for a moment, waving his hand to close the doorway. “The group assigned to cleanse your universe is gathering in the portal chamber right now,” he said, his back still to me. “The Mother of All will be creating a portal to transport them shortly.” He inhaled deeply, shoulders slumping on his exhale, and turned to face me. “I am so very sorry, Katarina.”
I sat up all the way, heartbeat suddenly hammering in my chest. Nik, Lex, Reni, everyone—they were out of time. Which meant I was too. Only problem was, I wasn’t nearly strong enough yet.
Anapa took a step toward me, hand partially upraised. “This can still work,” he said, a plea in his voice. “You just have to concentrate on the task at hand and build your strength. There is no need for the plan to change.”
“Like hell there isn’t,” I said, scooting to the edge of the bed and standing. The blood coursing through my veins was laced with adrenaline, feeding my muscles and sharpening my thoughts. The whoosh of air rushing in and out of my lungs gave my racing thoughts a rhythm. “Make sure Nik knows it’s starting,” I told Re as I marched toward the wall where Anapa’s doorway
had been moments ago.
“What are you doing?” Anapa asked as I passed him.
“What has to be done,” I said, raising my hand and placing it against the blank wall.
“Katarina, please . . . do not do this,” Anapa said. “Do not throw away all we have worked for.”
I shot him a be-quiet look over my shoulder, then closed my eyes and concentrated on a single word: open. I needed to get out of this prison cell, now. If the Mother thought she could just wipe out an entire species without repercussions, she had another thing coming. Specifically, me.
The wall seemed to resist at first, but I pushed those threads of At and anti-At further into the Essence, willing it to do my bidding. The doorway didn’t form smoothly, like when Anapa or Sian made one. The air crackled around me, there was a thunderous crack and a sharp concussion, and suddenly a jagged opening appeared in the wall. A long, featureless white hallway stretched out on the other side, no doors, just an endless stretch of blank, white walls.
I stepped through the opening and into the hallway without hesitation.
“Katarina,” Anapa called after me.
I paused, half turning so I could see the Netjer out of the corner of my eye. He stood on the other side of the opening I’d blasted through the wall. “This is suicide,” he said. “You are not strong enough to face her and survive. You have to wait until—”
“There’s no more time to wait,” I snapped. “Don’t you get it, Anapa? Those people she’s about to slaughter are my whole world. They’re my everything. Without them, I have no reason to fight anymore. No reason to care about any of this. Without them, this is over.”
“Katarina, please listen—”
I raised a hand, cutting Anapa off. “It’s now or never, Anapa. You can either help me or stay the hell out of my way.”
Sadness shone in his midnight eyes, overshadowed by disappointment.
“I’m sorry,” I said, and I meant it. “But I have to try to get through that portal. If I don’t . . .”
I waited for him to say he understood, or at least to nod. When it became clear that he would do neither, I took a deep breath and turned my back to him.
Taking that first step felt like walking through cement, but I picked up my foot and did it again anyway. And again I took a step. And again, and again, and again, until I was running down that endless hallway at full tilt.
The Mother of All may have chosen the time and place for our grand confrontation, but I could at least choose my weapon. The threads of At and anti-At sprouted from my palm as I ran, extending out several feet and solidifying into a near-exact replica of my sword, Mercy.
I didn’t need to kill the Mother of All. I didn’t even need to beat her. All I had to do was get past her so I could pass through the portal to my universe. Then the playing field would even out, and I would have all the power of my universe at my hands.
I just had to figure out how to get to the portal chamber first. I hadn’t really thought this part out, mostly because I hadn’t expected this all to be happening so suddenly.
Almost as soon as I thought about the portal chamber, a wall appeared about fifty yards ahead, where there had been none before. It started out opaque but quickly grew transparent as I neared, until it was almost as clear as glass. Beyond the wall, I could see the immense, domed quicksilver chamber where I’d first arrived in this universe. A group of Netjers were gathered near the center of the room. There were fourteen of them, lined up in pairs. My people’s executioners.
But I only had eyes for one being standing among them—the Mother of All. She stood in the dead center of the room, back to me. A portal swirled in the far wall, and I had no doubt that it led to my universe. A pair of Netjers passed through the portal. Another followed. And another.
There was no room for doubt in my mind. No room for fear. I had to get into that chamber, past the Mother of All, and through the portal before she shut it down. I had to. Period.
I slowed to a jog, raising my sword overhead, tip pointed straight ahead. I shouted out my rage as I rammed the sword into the wall. The impact jarred my whole body, but I gripped the sword handle tight, refusing to let go. A moment later, just after the final pair of Netjers passed through the portal, the wall shattered.
The Mother of All spun around as I exploded through the wall. I slowed, but I didn’t stop. I stalked toward her, gathering my strength and reinforcing my muscles with the energy I’d stored in my sheut as I raised Mercy once more in preparation to strike.
A full, victorious grin spread the Mother’s shimmering blue lips into a wicked crescent moon. “Ah, Katarina, I’m so glad you could join us,” she said, her words and demeanor throwing me off.
I hesitated, just for a moment.
The Mother of All flicked her hand, and that hesitation turned into a full-on pause.
I couldn’t move. Mercy was upraised, and my muscles hummed with unspent energy, but I couldn’t do a damn thing. I was stuck, frozen in place.
I gritted my teeth, focusing inward on the otherworldly materials lacing my ba and using them to reach out to the Essence. Between one heartbeat and the next, the wild, foreign energy flooded into me, making my whole body sizzle. The replica of Mercy seemed to light on fire as the energy rushed through me and into her long, curved blade.
I roared, and the spell the Mother had woven to hold me in place disintegrated.
The Mother of All took a step backward, eyes widening in shock. “That’s not possible,” she said, shaking her head. “How did you—”
It was my turn to grin. “I’ve been practicing,” I told her, voice razor sharp.
Her eyes narrowed to slits. “Maybe,” she said, raising her hands. “But not nearly enough.”
23
I rushed the Mother of All, figuring I had just one shot at this. I couldn’t afford to screw it up by hesitating. I needed to take the Mother out of play, just for a moment. Just long enough for me to dive through the portal and return to my universe, where the fight would be a hell of a lot fairer. If I managed to get into Aaru and break Isfet free, the two of us together might even have the upper hand.
A flash of bright, blinding light burst out of the Mother’s raised hands.
“Ah!” I shouted, closing my eyes and averting my face even as I followed through on the strike. The blade of my sword sliced through the air. And that was all it sliced through.
Unable to see my surroundings, I miscalculated the sword’s position in relation to the floor. The tip of the blade struck an unrelenting surface, screeching painfully. The friction twisted the blade, and the handle wrenched itself out of my grip and clattered onto the floor. I stumbled forward a few steps, blinking to clear my vision, but my surroundings remained clouded in darkness.
I could sense my sword a half-dozen feet away. This version of Mercy was a part of me, the very material making it up pulled from my body and soul, and being separated from it was physically painful—like losing an arm or an eye. All I could think about was curling my fingers around the hilt and feeling the rightness that would come from having it in my possession once more.
I dove in the direction of the sword, rolling over my shoulder as I landed. My fingers found Mercy’s hilt instinctively, and I flipped onto my feet, tension easing by the millisecond. I inhaled deeply, exhaling slowly, eyes searching the absolute darkness surrounding me.
I had no idea if I was still in the portal chamber or not. The floor was hard and smooth, so the Mother hadn’t transported me back to my carpeted cell, but I couldn’t hear the vacuous yawn of the portal anymore, so either she’d shut down my only way home or she’d moved me elsewhere.
Something in the gentle movement of the air told me I wasn’t alone, but I couldn’t tell any more than that. Was the Mother of All still with me? Or was it someone else?
There was only one way to find out.
“What happened?” I asked.
I heard the achingly beautiful, musical laughter that could only belong
to one being. “You attacked me, and I defended myself,” the Mother of All said, condescension thick in her voice. “Don’t worry, the blindness will pass in time.”
So, it was still her.
Raising my sword, I spun around to face her. “How? What did you do to me?” I cocked my head to the side, listening to the silence.
The Mother of All didn’t make any passive sounds—no heartbeat, no rush of air filling and leaving her lungs. No signs of life at all. It was creepy as all hell. It also meant I had to keep her talking—to get her moving. Her voice and the shift in the air caused by her every subtle movement were my only indicators of her position compared to mine.
“The sight of the portal seemed to cause you such distress,” the Mother said, “so I moved you away from it.”
So we weren’t in the portal chamber any more. Good to know. I became very, very still. “The portal’s still open?”
Faint spots of light danced across the darkness. My vision was starting to return. That bright-ass light must’ve damaged my retinas, and they were starting to heal. I couldn’t see anything definitive yet, but I decided to maintain the illusion of blindness. Better to be perceived as weak. Better to be underestimated than over. If I could catch the Mother off guard, there was still a chance that I could get to—and through—the portal.
“It is,” the Mother of All said, emitting that annoyingly joyous laughter again. “I still need the portal. There are a few more souls to send through.” I knew from Anapa that opening a portal expended a huge amount of energy for the Mother; she would need to refuel after this, consuming some of the energy from some ill-fated universe.
I could make out the Mother’s outline now, a hazy bright spot among the mottled darkness. She stood several paces away, moving ever so slowly to the right. It was almost like she was circling me. Smart of her, not to remain in a single spot and not to make any quick movements. Stupid, too, because now I knew she really was afraid of me. She didn’t want me to get a solid lock on her position, which meant I really could hurt her.
Judgement (Kat Dubois Chronicles Book 5) Page 12