But as the seconds piled slowly and patiently one on top of the other, like weights pressing down harder and harder, Leeth was certain She was there. The creepy-movie feeling was the sort of mean trick She enjoyed. She caught the Commander's eye and nodded, once.
The Commander didn't say anything at all, but a moment later all her men and women seemed to snap more erect, coming to full alert. Several of them caught Leeth's eye, and she nodded to them to be ready, just as she had to the Commander.
And then Godsson cried out, golden light blazing through the small aperture looking into his room. She saw the intercom light flip into two-way mode, and Leeth, about to dart across and look in, paused to check first with the Commander. Who inclined her head, and then her agents stepped aside, making a clear path to the cell.
Godsson cried out again, a note of dismay Leeth had never heard before, and then she was squinting in against the glare.
Godsson staggered, tearing at his hair, at his cheeks; then the golden glare winked out.
There was nothing in the room with him. Nothing to see. But I wouldn't be able to see Her even if she was in there right now! Leeth realized: there was nothing to see her with. Then Godsson's flesh started glowing as if lit from within, brighter and brighter. His skin shifted from red to golden as he screamed. Then light flared out from every inch of him, snapping back out into the usual thick golden dome, and he shouted in triumph.
For just a moment, Leeth thought she'd seen curves thrust out on the expanding surface of the spell. Then she felt Keepie's hand on her shoulder, pulling her away as he and then the shamans arrived to peer inside, their eyes already with that strange unfocused sort of glaze to them.
She let herself be moved back, even as Godsson began grunting with effort, the tone of dismay gone, but already a note of desperation that usually only crept in right near the end. In the bad years.
Something was Wrong. Something had already gone wrong.
There were too many people.
Since they'd gotten the new-generation service bots, the only people in the Institute normally, apart from the patients, were her and Keepie, Faith and Mr Shanahan, dopey Dr Simmons, and Professor Sanders.
Godsson's cries and shouts continued, and she forced herself to look, at all the men and women here, certain that something had gone badly wrong.
Her uncle and the three female shamans were stepping away from the small window with slight head shakes, but still somehow like they too knew that something was different this year.
Then she heard it – under Godsson's cries, the sound of gunfire. From above. Then machine guns. Then the dull roar of a truck engine. The soldiers, up above, outside!
But the Commander's head had tilted up, and then she and several of her men and women began swearing. 'Lewis. Ferguson. Warne.' She said. 'Take a team and get up there. Take down anyone using lethal weaponry. Stay in contact.'
Without a word, seven people sprinted across the room and down the corridor to the stairs. She only said that aloud for our benefit, Leeth realized. She was about to explain to the puzzled magicians about Her making the soldiers shoot each other, when the Commander herself spoke.
'It appears that several soldiers have just attacked their comrades. It's not clear if it's a terrorist action, or if something else is at work.'
Leeth felt her heart sink strangely, as if the whole room was a lift that had just started falling.
Godsson's cries intensified.
Then she saw it. Saw Her. Everywhere, in every twist and curve in the shape of a sleeve, the sweep of a ponytail, the angle of an arm. The arc of a nasty smile. Lily was all through the room; coiled around everyone!
Godsson's hoarse cries grew frantic.
Leeth felt a whisper around her, a seductive shiver up her spine, a desire, a pressure. Let me in.
'Target acquired, target acquired!' she screamed, and threw herself onto the nearest person with the Wrongness twisted around her, scarcely absorbing the fact that it was a woman. She felt her fingertips tingle, a fierce surge of defiance flaring through every nerve, and she felt it, felt Her, like strands of ghostly nerves mockingly extended out from within the woman as if they were invisible control wires looping in and out of the agent's brain, hijacking her nervous system and twisting thoughts like puppet strings that pulled and pushed at the real woman.
Leeth grabbed, wrapping her hands around them and wrenching, tearing them loose, snatching at the unseen mass as it whipped free, now lashing at her, pricking and slicing as the threads tried to force their way in, even as she felt half of them flood toward the man nearest the Commander.
'Target acquired!' she screamed, hands already dropping from the confused woman to throw herself across the room at the male agent beside Commander Stone, who had already begun turning toward her in puzzlement, as if seeing someone other than his superior there.
Godsson's shouts grew louder, more urgent, and behind her she heard several struggles break out.
The man by the Commander was unbuckling his trousers – at least, until her hand shot up to slam into his chin. His eyes rolled up in his head and he collapsed like a discarded bath-towel. Leeth slammed to a halt and spun around. She looked away, unfocusing; looking between, not at. And glimpsed tendrils gathering, withdrawing from him. She leaped forward, her fingers sweeping criss-cross through the empty air and felt something invisibly part. Godsson cried out with a happy note, as if his opponent had just fallen back.
Mr Smith, she saw, was looking around in a kind of outraged confusion, but Leeth thought he looked safe. Across the room, her uncle had gone white, his eyes fastened to her as if he'd just had some awful revelation. But she had no time for that as she dove, shouting, toward her next target. All around her, the agents now fought and struggled against their own teammates.
'Stand down, people, stand down!' the Commander ordered, striding amongst her men and women, reinforcing her silent commands with spoken words. Her eyes met Leeth's, demanding she do something.
Leeth paused, looking at the spaces between the people. All across the room, tendrils looped and coiled, clear to her eyes as a few of the agents tried to follow their orders, only to be forced to fight back as their friends tore at their clothes – or their flesh.
She saw the three shamans start to cast some big spell, and something about the unnatural calm that infused the hurried gestures told her they intended to send everyone in the room to sleep.
Which would free Her to concentrate all Her efforts on Godsson, instead of giving Leeth the chance-
'No, don't-'
But they were ignoring her, and it was all she could do to fling herself back and dive around the corner of the side corridor, hoping the magicians needed line of sight to their targets for their spells to take effect.
No! Why does no one ever listen to me? She could've woven a dance of destruction through the creature that had wrapped itself around all those men and women, tearing and shredding until there'd been nothing left except the part inside Godsson's cell, fighting him!
She heard bodies fall, slumping to the floor, and the sound of struggle cease; and then, within a second, Godsson cried out in horror, as if he suddenly faced overwhelming odds.
At least the stupid spell hadn't affected her. She jumped to her feet, to see Commander Stone back at the ex-“T” junction, sagging weakly against the wall, blinking and dazed, as if she'd been drugged and was forcing herself to stay conscious by sheer willpower alone.
Godsson screamed, and she ran back into the other room and threw herself up against the small window, ignoring the area behind her now full of slumped figures, some bleeding, some half naked. Her uncle and the shaman followed her, crowding her out of the way, but she'd already seen enough.
Godsson's skin had been rippling, just like those two men all those years before. Despite his golden glowing protective circle.
'Let me in there – She's getting him!'
'No, Sara, it's him, not her-'
'Don't be stup
id, Keepie! Did he do all this, too? And upstairs? I saw Her, Uncle. It's not him, it's Her!'
'Perhaps it is time for the cyanide?' one of the female shamans asked.
Leeth heard the door two floors above open, and steps hurriedly descending. Commander Stone staggered over to the woman, shaking her head. 'Fifty-fifty. Remember the dragon's warning.'
Leeth had no idea what they were talking about, but in his cell, Godsson shouted defiance, and the light changed from gold to green. She forced her way back there, beside two of the shamans who still stared in, pushing the women aside so hard they almost fell.
Godsson's flesh had stopped rippling, and she shouted encouragement. 'Yes! Yes, Godsson, you can do it! You can beat-'
Then the whole surface of his now green and gold dome undulated, seeming to slip just a fraction, shrinking.
She was all over it, pressing down, sliding in. She was enormous. Gathered all together. Somehow Leeth knew She filled the room.
She spun back to her uncle. 'Let me go in! It's wrapped all around his magic. If you let me in, I can kill Her once and for all!'
Her uncle stared. 'Are you mad? You saw what happens to people who try to help!' He stepped forward, one hand gripping her shoulder. 'No. No, Leeth. I forbid it. No!'
His voice almost broke, then, and he blinked, rapidly, and she saw tears in Keepie's eyes. In Keepie's eyes!
'I have to, Uncle. It's why I'm here, isn't it? I have to try.'
The footsteps down the stairs turned into steps along the corridor, and she recognized the sound of Professor Sanders's breathing before he appeared around the corner.
Godsson keened, and his light suddenly dimmed. When she turned back she saw his expression changing, alternating between desperate horror and vicious glee. Parts of his dome had holes, stretching out in curving tendrils which she knew were parts of Her.
'You have to let me in! There's no time left. Look for yourself!'
She stepped back.
Her uncle stepped forward, freezing as he took in the scene. 'No.'
Professor Sanders moved past him. Looked. Began punching the code himself as she watched. Her uncle grabbed his arm, pulling him away, and the older man looked past him. 'Restrain him.'
Commander Stone slid up behind her uncle, wove her arms through his, and effortlessly tugged him away, though she staggered slightly as she did so.
'Sanders! No!' her uncle shouted.
But Professor Sanders was already finishing entering the code, she saw. 'I have to lock this behind you, Sara, you understand?'
Their eyes met for a moment. Then the door swung out and Leeth charged in.
Chapter 52
The moment she stepped inside, she realized it had all just been a trap. She was too small. Completely insignificant.
Several slender tendrils of Her withdrew from Godsson to envelop her, coiling around her as they sought entrance. They flowed over her; through her. Dwarfing her. Toying with her.
I've been tricked.
It was going to end for her now, too. I should give up. She'd be turned into a monster, alongside Godsson, and together the two of them would rage, and ravage, and take their revenge-
No.
Just that one small word.
No.
Those weren't my thoughts. And with that understanding, Leeth surged into furious motion. She threw herself into the enveloping strands, spinning around until they cocooned her. Then with a savage energy that came from herself, purely from her, she cut and clawed through invisible threads. Through the threads she sensed startled pain and dismay, and retreat. Again she threw herself forwards, gripping before it could flee-
But as she felt something twist and slide inside her, she knew it wasn't going to be that easy. She'd been a fool to have ever thought it could be that easy. The energy kept pouring in, filling her as it burned so liquidly; a terrible, joyous energy that spoke to every cell, to something deeper than the cells, something that intertwined and looped inside like paired snakes.
She'd been supposed to grab Her; grab Lily. Instead Lily had grabbed her. But could that work out the same way? Could Godsson still do what he needed to?
But Godsson was too busy struggling against the larger part of Lily which he fought. And, yeah, her entrance had eased the pressure on him a little. But somehow she knew that was only temporary, while Lily changed her into something monstrous to attack him. Attacking her friend, using her. If it even was Lily. It seemed… different. Bigger. Developed.
So instead of just holding, she clawed and shredded the outer creature, while she tried to work out how to fight the terrible thing she could feel gathering momentum deep inside her. Across the small room, Godsson cried out, light and energy surging from him, while she panted and whirled and spun and tore. But she wasn't enough. Godsson wasn't enough. They needed something more, something else.
The flesh beneath her skin rippled.
And in the dismay that shocked through her at that awful sight, inspiration struck.
She lifted her head. At the small window, her uncle's horrified face peered in, his white face pressed up to the thick glass.
'Keepie! Your invisible monster. You didn't believe me, but it's really real. It hates Her! It fights Her! We need it here. Can you call it?'
For an awful, endless second as she registered his puzzled expression, she thought he was just going to shake his head “sorry.” But then his mouth opened, and he nodded, and she turned back to her own battle.
She cried her defiance, while Godsson fought his own war within his tattered protective dome. But as much as she fought, as fiercely as she tore and shredded parts of Lily, as they recoiled from her and she pursued, she could find no way to fight the change she felt building inside her, deep within her cells.
Even as she fought, the sounds from outside died, and she knew they'd turned the intercom off. Why would they do that? She strained, listening through the soundproof glass, pushing aside the sound of Godsson's gasps and cries.
'Can you heal her from death by cyanide, Harmon?'
'Of course not. Unbinding cyanide molecules from the enzyme within mitochondria is no part of any human healing mechanism. And would you really risk a fifty percent chance of calamity? Now shut up. I'm busy.'
She had no spare attention for anything except her own struggle, no matter the talk of cyanide. If she got turned into a monster, it was good to know they had a plan.
But time was up, she sensed. She turned despairing eyes to the man suffering similar tortures alongside her.
He'd stopped the rippling of his own flesh from within, before!
'Godsson! Help! Burn it out of me! Burn it out of me like you did for yourself, before!'
Their eyes met, but he hesitated, looking shocked by her request for some reason, before a strange expression came over him, something cruel and gleeful, and he seemed to seize on that. One swift, complex gesture, and in the next instant she was burning alive, stunned silent by an agony that slammed into her like a solid wall, scorching through her, an expanding series of bubbles that scoured outwards from the deepest core of her, spiraling and unraveling up and out, into cells, into nerve and muscle, and the screams exploded from her until she was nothing but shrieking torture made manifest, excruciated far beyond any word to describe pain.
Better than becoming a monster, was her last conscious thought, and she welcomed the cleansing fire; hoping it might burn through Her, too.
It burned.
And it burned.
And it burned.
Forever.
And she endured.
Thought returned only slowly. Her next thought wasn't a thought. Just a sensation. Bliss.
No pain.
Godsson's cries shocked her mind back into action, and she shook herself, rolling to her side. She was free, for the moment, but he was still wrapped up tight, more holes than glow now in his warped and collapsing protective circle.
She forced herself to her feet, leg muscles spasming like they
were still in shock, and tottered over toward him. She half fell, half dove through the largest gap in his shield, tumbling up to grab onto him, as much to pull herself upright as to tear at those invisible threads.
She realized that he, too, was somehow holding onto Her, hurting Her, and she had to grin as she felt the sharp energy surge through her fingers to flare out past her nails, tearing into Her as Godsson fought alongside her.
It felt good.
She twisted one hand around Her and held, like Godsson did; like Godsson had told her to do; but with her other hand she shredded.
But as the two of them leaned against one another; she dodging and writhing and Holding with her left while her right hand struck and clawed and stabbed, furling and slicing, defending and attacking, over and over… as the two fought, and fought, and fought… she gradually saw it still wasn't enough. As if She was just one end of a hose, connected to some endless reservoir of Awful.
Keepie's voice shouted from the intercom.
'Now, Leeth! Call the Institute monster to you now!'
She closed her eyes, wrapping her hands tightly in the invisible coils and then just holding on grimly as she imagined first Robo, then the far-more-scary non-Robo that he had become. Remembered herself teasing it, shooting it with her arrows, dancing away when it pursued. Called to it. Thought furiously, «She is here for you!»
And it came.
She opened her eyes as she felt its Wrongness, its Cold, and looked up into Godsson's face to see his eyes go as round as ping pong balls when non-Robo's chill presence suddenly flooded into the room, for some reason pouring out of Godsson himself, right there inside his protective dome. Despite herself, despite her resolve to stay, to hold Her, something about non-Robo so scared her that her resolve shattered and she cringed away.
Non-Robo swelled bigger, and she sensed frantic flailing movement around Godsson, saw his muscles tighten as she felt the strands twist in her own fingers, struggling.
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