by Paul Kelly
“You will do no such thing,” sang Master Sooth, her voice becoming steadily more threatening. “This is not a matter for Guardians.”
“I think we’ve moved far beyond that now don’t you think, Master Sooth?” asked Sam.
“We will never be beyond that,” sang Master Sooth, her tone aggressive. It took real skill to force aggression into a sing-song voice like that.
“Sam, it’s OK,” interrupted Sybil. She looked meaningfully at him. “I know exactly what I’m doing.”
“You always do, Sybil,” Sam grimaced. “That is exactly what I’m afraid of.”
With that he turned away, walking towards one of the many corridors that led off the Drum’s main hallway.
Master Sooth watched him go then turned back to Sybil, beaming happily. Sybil made a mental note to keep an eye on her. This false cheerfulness was getting to be disturbing. Together, they began walking down the long corridor. Sybil had half expected them to go to the Security Library, but they didn’t. Instead, they made their way to the Drum’s southern wing. They walked quickly and were there within minutes. The guards at the door nodded at Master Sooth as they strode through a large marble archway. They entered an expansive room, far bigger than the Security Library. It would not have surprised Sybil to learn that it was the largest in the Drum. Its great, domed ceiling was supported by several thick pillars. On every wall, maps were set up. A narrow doorway led to a balcony on the left hand side of the room. A thick red carpet coated the floor, embroidered with a golden image of a floating island. In the centre of the room stood a huge rectangular oak table. Three men and two women poured over yet more maps which lay atop it. At the head of the table stood Tommen, his old withered face looking as disfigured as ever atop his young body. He looked up instantly, taking the two of them in with a glance. Sybil’s breath caught.
“Leave,” he whispered.
The five Pulse-Masters glanced at each other and then calmly began gathering up the maps.
“Leave them,” commanded Tommen.
The Pulse-Masters nodded and began filing out of the room. None of them looked at Sybil. Their eyes were on the floor. Soon, the only ones left were Tommen, Sybil and Master Sooth.
“Is there something you desire, Master Sooth?” asked Tommen, his tone conversational.
“You said… you said the first one to find her…” stammered Master Sooth.
Tommen smiled ever so slightly, layers of withered flesh folding onto themselves as his thin lips turned upwards. “They are leaving their home even as we speak,” answered Tommen. “You can take a Wyvern straight to them, if you so wish.”
“Thank you…” burbled Master Sooth, her words saturated with relief. Tommen made that same, disgusting smile as she backed out of the room.
Sybil didn’t watch her go. She didn’t dare take her eyes away from Tommen, even for a second.
“Have you come to beg for forgiveness?” he asked, his words as soft as silk.
“I don’t beg for anything,” answered Sybil. Her voice was calm and collected which was fortunate given that she felt like screaming and then running far, far away. But her training as a Student was kicking in. She would not be goaded into fear.
Tommen stepped away from the table and began to circle her, keeping about six feet between them. His feet were bare, Sybil noticed.
“You are very brave,” whispered Tommen. “Far braver than these things you call ‘Masters’.”
Sybil shook her head. “I’m not brave. I’ve just had a long time to think.”
“Oh?” asked Tommen, a faint question on his lips.
“You crave power,” answered Sybil. “You’re addicted to it. You follow it everywhere and would do anything to get more of it. Frankly, it’s disgusting.”
“You hurt my feelings,” crooned Tommen.
“I figured out how you control the Pulse,” continued Sybil, her heart pounding. “It wasn’t hard. Very obvious really. You’re linked to it, somehow. The first one to ever use it. To overuse it actually,” she sniffed. “Like an amateur.”
Tommen spread his arms in an apologetic gesture. “Think what I had to work with,” he said.
“And so you control the Pulse and with it you control the skyscrapers and with them the Skylands. But there’s one thing that doesn’t quite add up. Why would a monster like you, who craves power, who would be willing to murder thousands of people just to create a few dragons, not do so earlier?”
Tommen’s eyes widened. He knew exactly what was coming.
“Because you couldn’t,” Sybil continued, withdrawing the Power Shard from her pocket. It glowed faintly in her hand. “The Pulse-Masters designed this to disrupt the Pulse, to stop you using it. That’s why it was in the Security Library. It’s not designed to stop the Wyverns. The Hall does not even know about them. Its real purpose is you, Tommen. It exists to stop you. And when Elijah took it… tell me, when did you turn the skyscrapers into dragons? How long did you wait?”
Tommen stared at her, his eyes wide. Then he smiled.
“Very clever,” he said, staring at her, his blue eyes frighteningly piercing. “But you miss one very important fact.”
“And what’s that?”
“The why, Sybil! The why!”Tommen declared. “Think about it, Sybil. I know you’re clever. You’ve figured it out this far. The shard has to be kept in the same room as me in order to work. You know that much. This whole building is made of stone to stop me controlling it. But you’ve missed the point. Why didn’t I just disconnect it years ago? Why did I let it keep me prisoner?”
“You can’t come near it,” stuttered Sybil, her stomach twisting. She took a deep breath, trying to keep control of her emotions. He would not intimidate her. “It distorts the Pulse,” she continued. “You practically are the Pulse. You couldn’t step within five feet of it even if you wanted to. In fact…” she took a step forward but Tommen just stared at her, his eyebrows raised slightly. Sybil stared at the power shard in her hand, her throat tightening as panic seized her.
“You are so much less than I thought Student,” Tommen said. “So much less…”
“I don’t think you are in any position to be judging me,” answered Sybil, her words filled with false bravado.
“Think Student!” shouted Tommen. “I’ve been trapped here for over a hundred years! You think I couldn’t have broken out of here if I’d wanted to? You think these pathetic ‘Masters’ could have bested me? I’ve done it to keep us safe! To keep us all safe!”
Sybil’s eyes narrowed. “That’s enough talking Tommen,” she said, stepping forward. “You’ve caught enough people in your lies. I will not be next.”
Sybil listened for the beat of the Pulse. She still had Sam’s sword at her belt, but she felt this was far more fitting. To kill him with the same power he’d used to kill almost everyone she’d ever known. To kill him with a power that he should be master of. She let the beat grow in her mind, let it become a thundering cascade of raw force, and brought it down hard. Tommen looked up as the Pulse fell on him. And then Sybil saw him smile. The Pulse shattered around him.
He stood up suddenly and his body seemed to explode outwards, radiating energy. The Pulse exploded in sound, at every possible pitch, at every possible rhythm it sounded, blaring into her ears. And through it all Tommen’s voice came.
“You were so close, Student!” he roared. “But you misunderstood. You believed I did not turn the skyscrapers because I was trapped. You were partly right, but I could not have turned them anyway. I’ve always had a link to the Pulse, it’s how I controlled the Hall for years. But the link was not so strong as to create dragons. The Seer changed that however.”
He struck out.
Sybil felt the blow before she even noticed the change in the Pulse. It hit her in the stomach, sending her flying back across the room. She skidded back on the floor and rolled to her feet breathing heavily. She was winded, but she ignored the feeling. If sh
e hesitated now, she would die. Her mind whirred furiously. He could still control the Pulse, but at least he couldn’t control her Pulse now that she had the power shard. That was something anyway. In the distance, she heard the beat change slightly and instinct drove her to the floor. She felt the Pulse cut above her, slashing the marble wall behind her. Stone chips rained down and she covered her face, listening for the beat. Dust obscured the air and Sybil moved to her left, circling Tommen and using the dust as cover.
His next attack went wide and Sybil took the opening, throwing the Pulse at him in as wide an arc as she could manage. The wall exploded in front of her, a giant map tearing in half. But Tommen was not there. Sybil spun around just as a ball of fire came roaring at her head. She threw up the Pulse in front of her and the flames exploded atop her rudimentary shield, scorching her hands. She screamed in pain, clutching her seared skin.
“I expected so much better…” Tommen whispered.
The dust settled and he was there, standing just two feet away from her. Sybil’s eyes bulged, staring at the power shard in her hand in disbelief.
“Oh it still hurts,” smiled Tommen, reading her thoughts. “But you know, I’ve always believed that what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.”
He hurled another fireball at her and Sybil dived to the floor, barely avoiding the torrent. She rose to her feet, striking back instinctively. Tommen parried her attack like it was nothing. Fear engulfed Sybil. But it is only when you are truly terrified, when you know that your wits are the only thing that stand between you and death, that you find out what you are truly capable of. Sybil had an idea. She listened for the beat of the Pulse and threw it wide, shattering three of the room’s stone pillars in an instant. Above her the ceiling creaked. Tommen seemed to realise what she was doing and his attacks increased in intensity. Tornados of fire flew from him, spinning across the room at her from all angles. Sybil dived across the floor and focused all her energy on the last pillar. With a scream, she shattered it. Above her the ceiling groaned and then began to collapse, its wooden vaults splintering and spinning downwards. Sybil dived left, away from the dome. In front of her, Tommen stared at the collapsing ceiling, his eyes wide, unable to believe what was happening. Within moments he was buried under ten feet of rock and wood. Sybil fell back on a crumbling pile of debris, breathing heavily. She was aching all over and her scorched hand was in more pain than she could have ever imagined possible. She lifted it to her face, feeling the pink skin tenderly. She didn’t even have the energy to heal it. She stared up at the night sky above her. It was finally over.
But then, from within the stone, from underneath the pile of plaster and timber, came the sound of laughter. Sybil scrambled to her feet, her eyes widening. What did it take to kill this guy?
Chapter 25 – The Bridge
“I told you Student,” a voice echoed from within the debris. “Whatever doesn’t kill you, only makes you stronger!”
The remains of the dome exploded outwards, sending bits of timber and stone flying. Sybil covered her face, wincing as it cut her skin.
“The Pulse almost killed me!” roared Tommen. “But it made me stronger! The timeline consumed me, but it just allowed me more power! I am connected to it all now Student! I rule this world!”
Suddenly, from above them, there was a loud, soul-shaking screech. The sound took Sybil’s breath away, paralysing her heart. She had heard that sound before. She looked up as a dragon descended. Everything seemed to move in slow motion. The room was covered in dust and debris. Splintered beams of wood littered it, sticking out of piles of plaster and rock. Motes of dust floated in the air. Sybil’s every muscle felt exhausted, her skin was burned and her mind itself seemed spent. In the back of it the Pulse had fallen to a low, steady drip. In front of her the dragon loomed, its huge, grey-green body consuming the whole room. Its eyes were black and empty. The top of its throat bulged outwards. It breathed in and its skin contracted, sucking air in with a shriek. Sybil staggered to her feet and stared defiantly at the dragon, very aware that she was about to be burned to a crisp. But at this point she couldn’t have moved even if she’d wanted to. The dragon breathed out and the flames came. Sybil closed her eyes and suddenly she was in the air, the claws of Xanthius suspending her by her own grey uniform. She watched the dragon recede below her and suddenly found new energy. This wasn’t over yet.
Sybil tilted her body to her right and began swinging lightly to either side, slowly at first but then building up speed. Xanthius seemed to realise what she was doing because he began swinging her too until, finally, Sybil swung out in a broad arc before twisting and scrambling atop the Wyvern. She’d forgotten how slippery the scales were and she scrambled desperately for purchase atop its back. She guessed she hit something sensitive because Xanthius screeched in protest below her.
“Sorry!” Sybil shouted and then took a last firm grip, wrapping her hands around his neck. She didn’t try to steer, she left that to Xanthius; she had enough on her plate. Below them, the dragon surged onto its hind legs, its massive body dwarfing them. But for Sybil and Xanthius, that was an advantage. In such an enclosed space, it couldn’t take to the air and, together, they flew around the dragon, easily dodging its clumsy bursts of fire even while Sybil sent her own to scorch its skin. The dragon roared in frustration, sending fire raining down everywhere. Below them Tommen cursed, taking cover as the walls began to collapse around them. That gave Sybil another idea.
“Dive low!” she shouted to Xanthius. The Wyvern responded like it could read her thoughts and soared down towards Tommen. Their esteemed leader threw the Pulse at them but Sybil disrupted the beat easily, causing it to shatter around them. Behind them, the dragon threw fire down. Tommen swore and dived right, narrowly avoiding the flames. Sybil and Xanthius flew up, circling the dragon and throwing more fire at it, the beat of the Pulse quickening to an inferno inside Sybil’s mind. The dragon screamed in frustration and redoubled its efforts, desperately trying to burn them. And Xanthius flew low, flying in front of Tommen, each burst of dragon fire coming closer to consuming him. Then the dragon collapsed. Suddenly, its huge form fell apart, piece by piece, great chunks of it turning into slabs of Orock. The rock rained down and Xanthius flew desperately between the showering missiles, trying to avoid them. Then a piece slapped him on the head, its great weight seeming to ooze on top of him for a second before plummeting down. Xanthius dropped with it. Sybil dived to the floor and rolled up, sparing only a glance for the fallen Wyvern. He’d be fine; they were immortal anyway.
All around her, bits of the dragon continued to rain down, but they didn’t fall naturally. They were aiming for her. A familiar fear paralysed Sybil’s heart but she forced it down. She dived to the side as a particularly huge chunk span towards her. It smashed through the wall behind her, revealing a crowd of Pulse-Masters and Guardians, watching the fight. Sybil didn’t know whose side they were on. Fear shone in their eyes. She was pretty sure they didn’t know whose side they were on either. Her gaze was snatched away as another chunk of Orock roared towards her. She slapped it away with the Pulse. Suddenly, the Orock seemed to stop moving. Each piece hung in the air for a second, as if frozen in time. Then they began spinning, forming a huge tempest, a hurricane, and Sybil was at its centre. Across the room Tommen stood, his piercing blue eyes alight with pleasure inside his withered skin. The Orock struck, slashing at Sybil from all angles. And suddenly Sybil understood what she had to do. She unsheathed her sword and discarded the Pulse. She was defenceless as the Orock pummelled her. It slammed into her body, breaking at least one rib. It tore at her skin, ripping apart the burned flesh. But Sybil was a Student. She did not feel emotions. She did not feel pain. Sword in hand she ran at Tommen. His eyes widened and he barely had a chance to reach for his own as she reached him. His concentration broke and the Orock fell to the ground with a crash. Their swords clashed against one another, the sound resonating outwards. Sybil was a Student. She could do this.
She would do this. She screamed as she slammed her sword down on Tommen with more strength and ferocity than she’d ever thought possible. She didn’t discard her emotions now. She used them. All the anger, all the rage she felt for this man who had manipulated and betrayed and murdered her people… she fed it into her blade. And the sword struck down. Tommen parried it desperately, sweeping his own blade down to try and catch her legs. Sybil matched it easily and stabbed her own towards his chest. Tommen just brought his blade up to stop it and the metal scratched him. His withered face contorted in anger, an inch from hers. With a last scream, Sybil pushed his sword away, her own blade sending it flying across the room. It clattered onto the floor, the sound echoing across the air. Tommen stared at her in horror.
“Please,” he begged. “You have no idea what will happen if the Bridge is allowed to return.”
The Bridge… Those words… When Elijah had attacked Tommen all those weeks ago. He had screamed then, he had prophesied.
Sybil stared at Tommen. ‘The Bridge will open…’ The words echoed in her mind. But they were a whisper, a shadow compared to her rage.
She looked him in the eyes and swung her sword. Blood erupted from his neck and his head fell to the ground. His body collapsed, dark, ruby blood pumping everywhere. Sybil reached down and picked up his head by the hair. The eyes were still open, that same piercing blue staring in fear at her.
“Get stronger then,” she said and threw the head across the room.
Chapter 26 – The Symbol
Elijah walked through the desert, at last at peace. Overhead, the sun beat down but he did not feel it. Behind him, the mountain receded into the distance, but he did not look back. In the distance, the walled city of Ekriam stood, smoke rising from the areas still at war. Elijah knew what he had to do. In the back of his mind, the Voice of Time echoed, its message clear. Peace was not something that happened after everyone became tired of fighting. Peace was something that had to be built, that had to be crafted. And the first step in its construction was to create a level playing field.