“That dog’s even dumber than you are,” Ravan observed, “but I’m kinda starting to like him.”
Holt whistled and Max skidded to a stop and ran back, tongue lapping out of his mouth.
All three of them, with what was left of the Menagerie, ran toward the silver walkers. The gunships arced in the sky. Plasma bolts streaked everywhere, raining down into Ambassador’s small but imposing force. The shields flared to life around each of the five-legged walkers, and they charged forward.
It was total war, and Holt and Ravan ran through the middle of it.
* * *
AVRIL GROANED AS SHE burst through the cloud of fire that erupted from the fallen Hunter. She landed on the ground and recalled her missing spear point, catching it with a jerk back onto her Lancet.
Each of her Arc, one-on-one against these small Assembly walkers, were more than a match for them. She could see Gideon’s vision, even his strategy for individual encounters. Two Helix for a Mantis, six to take down a Spider, it was all so clear to her now. Gideon hadn’t lied. They were made for this.
The problem was, right now it wasn’t a one-on-one fight. There were only a little more than twenty White Helix facing hundreds of Hunters plus airships, and whatever those larger walkers did. The grim reality was clear. For all their skill and strength, they would be overtaken soon.
But it didn’t matter. They were never in this fight to win. They simply needed to hold off the Assembly long enough for the Prime to reach the Tower. Then, whatever was going to happen would happen.
In the distance, bright flashes of light sparked to life up and down the line of larger walkers. Seconds later, the popping sounds of ordnance being fired echoed through the air.
Avril’s eyes widened. She had a sense of what was coming. “Heads up!”
There were explosions in the air, and Avril saw streaks of light raining down, as if something large had burst into dozens of smaller pieces.
A second later she knew what they were.
The small buildings and old cars filling the streets rocked as hundreds of explosions blanketed the area, and Avril leaped up and away in a flash of yellow.
She saw two of her Arc, and one of Dane’s, consumed in the fireballs and disappear. Avril grimaced, but kept moving.
She knew what the larger walkers were now: artillery. She also noticed something else. The flurry of cluster bombs exploding all around never once struck one of the green-and-orange walkers. It couldn’t be a coincidence. It meant the ordnance had the ability to differentiate targets. It was brilliant, given the Hunters’ propensity for stealth and speed. It allowed them to lunge into a fight they might be outclassed in, with devastating support from behind.
Two more of Avril’s Arc fell, caught by plasma bolts, unable to avoid all the flying death in the air, even with their skills. They would be cut to pieces in this storm.
New plasma bolts suddenly flared around her, and she saw, back near the center of the ruins, something amazing. Mantis walkers and a giant Spider firing back at the Hunters near them. In front, charging forward, was a line of five-legged walkers, like the one that had befriended the Prime.
Each was silver, their bodies bereft of color.
“Pull back!” Avril yelled. “Pull back to the buildings!” She heard Dane shout the same order, saw the Helix dashing away as one, covered in purple or yellow light. If they could get back to the buildings and those silver walkers, they might actually have a chance.
Avril leaped into the air after her Arc. The onslaught of Hunters fired after them and gave chase, renewed by the Helix’s retreat.
* * *
MIRA’S VISION WENT BLACK as she slammed back to the ground, the Vortex tossing her like a rag doll, in a flurry of flashing particles. She had a feeling her leg was broken now, too, but the pain had yet to register. Somehow, she managed to hold onto the plutonium that kept the Anomaly at bay, and Zoey had avoided being hurt as well. It was Mira’s final wish to protect the child as long as she could.
She moaned and looked up. Above her, the Severed Tower loomed, a shadow that stood massive out amid the glowing haze of the Vortex, two giant shapes broken apart in the air.
There had been a time when she dreamed of seeing the Tower, the deepest part of the Strange Lands. She and Ben had talked late into the night about it, imagining what it looked like, what it might actually do.
Now she felt nothing for it but revulsion. This thing that, if what Gideon and Ben believed was true, had arranged every little detail of her life to bring her to this point. And for what? To die? To be beaten and in pain? What was the point of that? She hated the thing now, whatever it was.
As the Vortex roared around her, she thought of Gideon’s idea, of the paper dragon, the pain that came from opening it, the image it had seared in her mind. She saw the mirror, her own reflection, but it hadn’t been her. It had been everything she wasn’t—strong, confident, and assured.
She remembered what Gideon told her, that maybe the mirror was the important thing. Not the reflection. But what did that mean? She was supposed to find something that reflected a true image. Something—or maybe, the idea occurred to her—someone.
Holt’s last words rang in her head. I believe in you.
They had stirred something. It wasn’t just the words, it was how he had said them. Forceful and pointed. He wasn’t just telling her what she needed to hear. He was telling her something he felt, and it had moved her. She wanted it to be true.
Mira realized something then. Looking back, she knew why Holt was different from Ben. He gave her strength. Since her father had disappeared, he was maybe the only one who ever had. Not Lenore, not even the Librarian—and definitely not Ben. Ben took her strength, intentionally or unintentionally made her rely on him. Holt made her feel like she could do anything all by herself.
If he made her feel that way … maybe it was because it was true.
It was him, she suddenly knew. It was Holt. Holt was her mirror. It had been there the whole time, but she had never seen it.
The realization filled her with renewed strength. The world snapped back into focus; and with it came pain. Horrible, lancing pain in her broken arm and leg. The pain helped focus her as much as the thoughts of Holt.
She stared with anger back up at the Tower looming over her. “Let’s see what you know,” Mira said in a cracked voice. “Let’s just see!” She couldn’t walk, not with her leg, but maybe that was for the best. Every time she stood up the Vortex ripped her off her feet.
Instead, this time, Mira rolled onto her back, keeping her arm around Zoey and the plutonium, and pushed back with her good leg across the empty ground, toward the Tower. One leg length at a time—and each push was agony.
Mira’s vision blackened, but she kept at it. Kept pushing, over and over, through the raging Vortex. She was doing it somehow, and she kept pushing until she hit something and stopped.
She opened her eyes. A figure stood over her, wrapped in a similar cocoon of blankness that repelled the Vortex, holding a brightly flaring glass cylinder.
“Mira?”
It was Ben.
* * *
HOLT WATCHED TWO OF the Menagerie in front of him spin and fall as he ran. Ravan cursed next to him, but kept moving. Holt had a feeling she was going to lose a lot more men before this was over.
There was no way to tell how many Hunters the Menagerie and White Helix had killed, but there didn’t seem to be any end to them. They kept dashing into the streets from the south, and Holt knew the bulk of their force was still to come.
Ahead of them were two Mantises, their colors stripped bare, firing at the tripods chasing after Holt and Ravan.
“Get behind the silvers!” Ravan shouted to her men.
She didn’t have to answer Holt twice. He and Max lunged behind them as more plasma screamed by. Giant footfalls came from a few blocks away, and Holt saw the hulking form of the lone silver Spider, its huge cannons flashing and booming, sending bolts screa
ming toward the green-and-oranges.
Any other time, being relieved at the sight of an Assembly Spider walker would have seemed ludicrous, but Holt didn’t have time to ponder the irony.
The rapid-fire pops of automatic gunfire echoed down from above. Ravan’s men were still at the top of one building, holding their position, and they’d even managed to drop one of the gunships, sending it spiraling to the ground and exploding.
“Get those guys out of—” Ravan started.
The top of the building exploded, as four gunships targeted the shooters inside, blasting it with plasma until it was just a burning skeleton. Ravan glared up at the building with silent fury.
“I’m sorry,” Holt said, shouldering the Ithaca and pulling loose his Sig, ramming in another clip of ammo.
Ravan did the same thing with her own rifle, peeking back out behind the Mantis. “Don’t be. We got bigger problems.”
Holt followed her gaze. Several blocks away the White Helix reappeared, jumping toward them and flipping in flashes of color between the rooftops. There weren’t as many as they had started with, but that wasn’t what bothered Holt. If they were falling back, it wasn’t a good sign.
Seconds later it was confirmed. A swarming mass of movement appeared. Hunters, hundreds of them, pouring into the city, plasma cannons firing up at the Helix. Holt watched one of the warriors take a hit and slam into a wall, tumbling downward a hundred feet and out of sight.
Holt and Ravan looked at each other somberly. They could both do the math. They weren’t getting out of this one. None of them were. Even so, it didn’t mean they were about to give up. They would make as many Assembly pay as possible.
“We need a choke point,” she said.
Holt nodded, looking around. He saw something that might work a block away, and darted out from cover, whistling for Max. He felt Ravan, and what was left of her men, on his heels.
He led them to where two semitrucks had jackknifed into each other years ago, their trailers arcing out in a V shape. Dark Matter Tornadoes had warped and blended the vehicles together in a strange, disturbing mix of melted metal. If they got in between the trailers, any Hunters that followed would have to bunch up. They could take them one at a time.
“Get to those Dumpsters!” Ravan shouted, and her men dashed toward two big rusted metal trash containers at the end of the street. Holt saw what she intended. They’d make nice cover—at least until they got shredded.
Holt helped the Menagerie push the Dumpsters into position between the trailers. Another irony, he and the Menagerie working together.
“Get behind!” Ravan yelled. The onslaught of Hunters rushed forward. The silver walkers stood in between them, but they wouldn’t last long. “Fire in turns. You run out, you get at the back, reload.”
No one said anything, they just leaped over the Dumpsters as plasma bolts sizzled past them.
Holt saw two of the Mantises explode and fall, saw the five-legged ones charging and ramming the tripods back, but it wasn’t enough. The Hunters swarmed past like a tidal wave, their cannons firing—and then they were on them.
The trailers did their job. The walkers had to enter one at a time, and when they did the Menagerie opened fire, dropping each one in turn, creating a pile at the entrance that the walkers had to leap over to get past. But it took a lot of shells to hurt the Hunters. The first line ran out of ammo, cycled back, and Holt and Ravan moved up, opened fire, dropping more in bursts of sparks and fire.
The strange, glowing fields of energy rose out of the machines, lighting up the dark and bleeding into the air, unable to form.
Holt’s rifle clicked empty, and he grabbed Max and dashed back, started reloading with Ravan.
The trailers on either side shook as two Hunters landed on top. Holt fired up at them—and then shoved Ravan to the ground as one returned fire. It got one of her men instead.
They both stared up at the machines, their targeting system tracking them, guns about to fire …
… and then one exploded in a burst of green sparks. So did the other.
When the smoke cleared, Dane crouched where the walkers had been. The tall Helix smiled at Holt, then leaped away in a flash of yellow light. Holt frowned. Great. Now he owed his life to the cocky bastard.
All around them, in the air, Holt saw the White Helix flipping and darting, their spear points firing like missiles into the swarm of Hunters, trying to turn the tide; but there were just too many. The green-and-orange swarm continued to advance.
The Menagerie at the front fell as bolts shredded them.
“Pull back!” Ravan shouted. “Under the trucks!”
She darted underneath one and Holt scampered after her. Max just watched, staring around nervously at all the chaos.
“Max! Move!” he shouted, and the dog tore loose and dashed after him.
They all crawled out, the sounds of battle everywhere. Ravan looked at him. “I don’t know about you, but—”
The air above them exploded. Streaks of light rained down like shotgun blasts. The ground flashed in fire as the projectiles hit—except where a green-and-orange walker happened to be.
“Guided artillery,” Ravan said wearily.
“Stop admiring it and go!” Holt ran in the only direction open to them—away from the horde of green and orange. Explosions followed after them, a hell of flame and heat and shrapnel.
* * *
THE STREETS WERE A battleground. Droves of Hunters poured in from the south. The silvers returned fire, holding their ground, but artillery was raining down on everything that wasn’t green and orange. Right then, though, Avril had other things to worry about.
She twirled her Lancet and fired both projectiles straight downward, backflipping between two ruined city buses. Both shots were hits, punching through Hunters and incinerating them.
She landed and moved to recall her crystals, but two more leaped up after her, their cannons spinning.
Avril reacted instantly, using the empty shaft of her Lancet to vault out of the way of lines of sizzling plasma bolts, landing on the ground in a crouch.
More Hunters charged after her, and she realized she was defenseless. She tensed, ready for—
One of the tripods shuddered as the glowing blue end of a Lancet punctured it in a stream of fire. Masyn flipped up and over, plasma fire following her, and it gave Avril the time she needed. She spun and caught both of her spear points from the air, then ducked down and let her weapon flare outward in an arc, slicing through the legs of another walker, crashing it to the ground.
Masyn landed next to her and the two moved back-to-back.
“They’re a lot dumber than I expected,” Masyn said.
“With numbers like this, they don’t need strategy,” Avril replied. “Spearflow, movement Seventeen—then adapt.”
“Yes, Doyen,” Masyn said. She was winded, but there was still a note of excitement in her voice.
Both girls broke in opposite directions, performing the movements the Spearflow had prepared them for, touching all three glowing crystals on their fingers in a flash of bright white light. Their Lancets struck forward blindingly fast, then flipped into reverse thrusts with the opposite ends. Each attack found a different target, and four walkers fell in flames.
Then they were leaping away and dodging through a sky full of plasma. The girls landed a block apart, Masyn on top of an old gas station, Avril on a taxicab that had been warped together with a limousine.
Masyn smiled—and then saw something. To the south, Castor flipped and dodged through volleys of plasma bolts. Avril could see his weapon was empty. He needed to land to recall his crystals, but that was harder than it—
A bolt sparked and sent him crashing to the ground. He tried to rise—and three more cut him down where he stood.
Masyn howled in anger and leaped toward the fallen boy.
“Masyn!” Avril shouted, but it did no good. She charged forward in a blur of purple and waded into the Hunters around Cast
or, her Lancet cutting them down one at a time—but there were too many, and they were closing in.
Avril moved to leap for her—then saw movement out of the corner of her eye. Dane jumped between two buildings, chased by three gunships, and then wheeled as a blast of artillery exploded on the rooftop next to him. He fell and vanished, the gunships firing after him.
A chill ran through her. It was bound to happen. To both of them, but the sight of it, knowing he was hurt, maybe dead—was beyond anything she expected.
Behind her, Masyn fired a spear at two Hunters lined up one behind the other, blowing through both. Avril could only reach one in time, and even then, in the end, it would still be too late.
“Go, Doyen!” Masyn shouted, striking and jumping, surrounded by Hunters.
Avril made her choice. She touched her index and middle rings together and leaped straight into the air. Behind her, she heard the plasma cannons around Masyn, but she didn’t need to look back to know the girl had fallen. She could sense it in the Pattern, could feel her echo weaken and vanish.
Avril landed on the roof, saw Dane on top of the building’s water tower. He’d dispatched two gunships, but his Lancet was empty. The third opened fire, peppering the tower with plasma bolts and shredding Dane, knocking him down.
Avril felt her insides turn to ice.
She flipped forward. The gunship spun where it hovered, targeting systems realigning—but it wasn’t fast enough.
Avril’s Lancet punctured it once, then twice, as she flew up and over, and it exploded and crashed in a fireball.
She landed on the tower, grabbing Dane before he slid off. He was bloodied, torn, and barely conscious.
All around her the chaos continued. The green-and-oranges poured into the city, plasma seared through the air and fire streaked downward from the sky. There was no one left. It was all but over now. Avril looked down at Dane … and managed to smile. They would face the end together at least.
* * *
THE ONE THE SCION named Ambassador slammed into two more Mas’Erinhah and sent them flying and crashing in crumpled heaps to the ground. Plasma bolts sparked against its shield, and it could tell it was about to fail. The colors of its kin, the Mas’Asrana, had all faded. The Mas’Shinra defectors were all gone now, too, except for the largest, and even it would fall soon.
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