by Matt Forbeck
A few days after the Guardian had been destroyed, Molly’s family hosted an old-fashioned Wisconsin cookout for all of their friends. It was the first time her family had done this in years, and for Molly and her friends in Paxopolis it marked the beginning of a new chapter.
Not only did it give them an opportunity to celebrate having braved a terrible storm together, but it also gave them a chance to look forward with renewed courage. Who knew what the future held for them? All that Molly was sure of was that she now had friends she could count on, no matter how bad it got. That seemed like enough.
“We have no idea how long we’re going to be locked down here inside the slipspace enclosure,” Yong said. “That means no one coming in and no one going out. But since we’re all going to be stuck in here together, I think we need to make every effort to ensure we all get along. Sometimes that requires extreme measures—like a neighborhood-sized Wisconsin cookout, don’t you think?”
Molly recognized that something had changed in her heart since she arrived here. All of the grief from what she’d experienced back on Paris IV was still there, even if weaker on some days than others. But instead of resenting the species that had destroyed her family in the war, she could now see and embrace each person as an individual. All the differences that had made her scared of or angry at such people before now seemed insignificant compared to what had united them.
Bakar and Kasha were the last guests to leave that night, and Molly was determined to give Bakar a hug just as he walked out the door. The Sangheili only hesitated for a second before he hugged her back. She didn’t know what it took for a Sangheili to hug a human, but she was glad that it now came easy for her to embrace Bakar.
They were allies, for certain, but they were also friends.
As Molly was cleaning up, Asha came over and gave her a tight hug too, and then a lingering kiss on the top of her head.
“What’s that for?” Molly asked.
Asha dabbed away a tear welling in her eye and smiled at Molly. “For giving me hope.”
EPILOGUE
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* * *
Dural ‘Mdama . . . ?”
Those were the last words to leave Kurnik’s mouth before the Pale Blade slammed what remained of his battered and sputtering energy sword into Kurnik’s throat. Dural had not bound up his broken leg with what he could scavenge and limped all the way back to base to open a discussion with the cowardly traitor. There would be no mercy and no second chances. The only thing he deserved for his treachery was death, and Dural happily handed it to him.
The Pale Blade walked into the base after three days in the wilderness, and he could see that Kurnik had already proven a disappointment. No one had challenged Dural. They had simply stepped aside and gazed at him in surprise and awe as he slowly made his way up into the Cathedral’s central spire, found Kurnik, and put an end to him.
Once the deed was done, Dural turned to his surviving commanders and brandished his blade before them. They looked as if they had seen a ghost.
“Do any of the rest of you have the courage to defy me? Do you?”
Few of them could even meet his eyes. Dural had worried that they might look upon his injuries and refuse to accept him as their leader, but his brash disposal of Kurnik seemed to have persuaded them that he was up to the job.
Arkit, one of Dural’s personal vanguard, stepped forward and gently put his hands on Dural as if to make sure that he was not actually a spirit. “You were dead, Pale Blade,” Arkit said, his voice raw with astonishment. “I saw the creature carry you off with my own eyes.”
“I rode that animal until it fell over lifeless, bleeding to death by my own hand!” Dural gazed at his mauled fist still clutching the sword. “And then I came back here to punish this coward who thought it wise to attack me from behind.”
Dural glared at them all, baring his teeth to display his disdain. “We just dealt the humans a terrible blow, but instead of pressing our advantage, you’ve given them the time to recover and fortify. Now they will be on the hunt for us, and what have you done to prepare for it when it comes?”
No one had a decent answer. No one but the Huragok, Even Keel.
The creature floated forward to make its report, and Dural gladly let it approach. As it did, he saw reflected in the others its instant recognition of him as the leader of the Servants of the Abiding Truth. They knew that without Dural their lives here would soon come to an end.
“I see you have gotten the power in the Cathedral running again,” Dural told it. “What is the status of our vehicles and heavy weaponry?”
“Inoperable,” Keel said flatly through his collar. “The other leader took me off that task and set me to another.”
Dural snorted at that. “He is gone. I am the leader here again.”
Keel wobbled in the air before it spoke. “The other leader wanted us to flee the shield world, but the entire place has been encased inside a slipspace enclosure. We are cut off from the rest of the galaxy.”
“What? How?”
“The humans here ordered this done as a means of isolating the shield world from the enemies who threatened us all with the Guardian.”
“Can you undo this?”
The Huragok rolled from side to side. “Perhaps. But to do so would be to invite the Guardians back in. They would attempt to stop any conflict to maintain peace inside the shield world. They would use any means necessary, including destroying the Servants of the Abiding Truth.”
“So we are trapped here.” Dural scowled at his commanders. He held them all responsible for not doing something to stop this from happening before it was too late. At the very least, they could have redoubled their efforts to take control of the human settlement. Instead they had retreated and lost the second Huragok.
Keel nodded. “However, I have succeeded at my latest task. I have discovered a far better location for your base.”
Dural narrowed his eyes at the creature. Perhaps Kurnik had not been entirely useless after all.
“Where is this?”
“On the third planet that orbits the shield world’s interior sun. The humans call it Mackintosh. There is an installation there which serves as the home port for a Forerunner warship.”
Dural gaped at the Huragok. To think that they could have such a vessel at their command. Perhaps it could house his entire force. . . .
“Is it operational?”
“It has not been moved for many millennia. It may require work to restore it to its full use. But it is habitable and accessible through the portal network. There are substantial provisions there. And armaments as well.”
“That shall be good enough—for now.”
Dural stepped out onto the parapet to address his warriors. Word of his return had already spread quickly through the base, and they had now gathered around the spire to learn what would become of him.
“Servants of the Abiding Truth! I am your leader once more!”
A roar of approval rose from the assembled crowd. The commanders behind him wisely echoed it. The challenges posed by Buran, Ruk, and Kurnik had not proved pointless. They had been necessary—and indeed appointed by the gods—so that Dural’s present leadership would be solidified.
Even Dural’s encounter with Asum echoed of this design. Dural could now see that this was how events had needed to transpire for the Servants to thrive in the wake of Avu Med ‘Telcam’s death. Now that Dural had emerged from the crucible of betrayal alive and full of fury, the Pale Blade could accomplish the task the field master had delivered to him.
“The Covenant—even the scraps of which had survived to this day—has now been completely destroyed. The Arbiter likely rules uncontested over all of Sanghelios. Only one thing stands between him and utter victory over our people: the Servants of the Abiding Truth!
“I promise this, brothers. If you submit to my leadership and are loyal to the Abiding Truth, we shall taste victory together. We shall stand strong against him and his h
uman allies. We shall make him regret his spurning of the gods. We shall amass our divine instruments of vengeance, and we shall take Sanghelios back once again!”
The Servants roared their approval. They too wanted blood for all that the Arbiter had taken from them, and they saw the Pale Blade as the one who could give it to them.
“You may have heard that we have been cut off from the rest of the galaxy. This is true. The humans did this in a desperate effort to protect themselves.
“What they do not realize yet is that they have given us the chance we need—the time and space we require—to build anew our forces and our armament. Soon we will have the resources we need to purge them from this shield world and claim it as our own.
“We are not trapped inside this world with them. They are trapped in here with us!”
Dural’s warriors thrust their weapons high and roared in unity. As their accolades echoed throughout the spire, Dural turned to Even Keel and his commanders and said, “What are you waiting for? Make all the necessary preparations. We move tonight.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
* * *
* * *
This book may have my name on the cover, but it’s the collective effort of an amazing team of people. Once again, I owe huge thanks to my editor, Ed Schlesinger, whose love for both writing and Halo shines through in the polish he lends these pages. He and his team at Gallery Books work hard to bring amazing stories into the world, and I’m thrilled to have the chance to join them on such sorties.
Believe it or not, the collective aid of the people at 343 Industries—especially Jeremy Patenaude, Tiffany O’Brien, and Jeff Easterling, as well as the rest of the writing team—was even more vital for this story than for New Blood. Exploring a place as large and wild as Onyx occasionally requires a few course corrections, and they were always as patient and helpful as possible with their efforts to guide me along at every step of the way. Their passion for bringing fantastic Halo stories to fans around the world is as infectious as the Flood.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
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* * *
Matt Forbeck is an award-winning and New York Times bestselling author and game designer. He has more than thirty novels and countless games published to date. His latest work includes Dungeonology, the Star Wars: Rogue One junior novel, the last two editions of The Marvel Encyclopedia, his Monster Academy YA fantasy novels, and the upcoming Shotguns & Sorcery roleplaying game based on his novels. He lives in Beloit, WI, with his wife and five children, including a set of quadruplets. For more about him and his work, visit Forbeck.com.
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Authors.SimonandSchuster.com/Matt-Forbeck
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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available.
ISBN 978-1-5011-3261-2
ISBN 978-1-5011-3262-9 (ebook)