by Jen Ponce
More noise. “What about Tytan?” Kali shouted over the others.
“Do you know where he is?”
Her eyes shifted. “The Rend.”
That didn’t sound good. “Can you show me where it is?”
“What will you do?” Derision dripped off every word.
“And why do you care?” asked another.
“Ty’s my friend.” Sorta. If I could trust him more and if I lusted after his body less, he’d be a great friend. “I don’t want to see him hurt. I’m going to kick Amara’s ass and get him out of there.” Or just sneak him out and avoid a fight all together.
Kali laughed. “You don’t stand a chance against her.”
“I killed Ravana, didn’t I?” Crossed my arms over my chest and smiled. One point to me. “She wouldn’t stand a chance against us all,” I said, throwing that out and expecting it to get shot all to hell.
They looked by measure appalled, amused, bored. One snake-armed Skriven left the room entirely. Rather rude walking out but whatever. They were demons. Right? You couldn’t expect them to make Miss Manners proud.
Kali folded one set of arms over her chest. Another set went to her hips. “You want us to help you storm the Rend?”
“Sure, why not?”
“What would we get in return?”
“Access to power. Within the conditions I already outlined.”
She frowned. “You don’t want souls in payment?”
“I’ll take in souls from the dying or the Theleoni. Otherwise, no.”
“But. That would unbalance things.”
“How? How will waiting until someone is dying to take their soul going to unbalance things? I would think that interfering with someone’s destiny would be more unbalancing than letting nature take its course.” I knew they weren’t ready to be liberated from Ravana’s shadow just yet. Heck, they were steeped in a culture of death and destruction. I’d be an idiot to think I could change anything. Though I think Tytan was different now because of me. I couldn’t be certain of it, of course, but I thought so. He’d protected me. Helped me. That wasn’t all for his own self-interest, was it?
“You are a strange one, Master.”
I nodded. “No doubt. And if things don’t change for the better, hunt for your souls and challenge me. There’s nothing fun about the status quo.”
Nex flashed his teeth at me. Then his eyes spilled black. The room fell silent. “Balance is a lie steeped in truth. For there is no balance when there are those above and those below. It’s only together that the Skriven can be truly alive and know true freedom.” His head began spinning, giving each one in the room a good look at his eyes. Or maybe his teeth. Whyever he was doing it, it mesmerized them. Then he stopped, his gaze on me, the liquid drained as if a plug had been pulled.
It took all of two seconds for the room to erupt in noise. The most popular theory was that Nex was a shill, made to spout nonsense to get them to help me. To that, I said, “Did we hear the same thing? Seriously. I don’t give a fuck if you help me or not. I’m just telling you all what the new rules are and making sure you know that I’m not Ravana and never will be.” I stepped away from the doorway and gestured toward the hall. “Out. I have work to do and a Skriven to save.” Assholes.
They left, every one of them. At least I had gotten one useful thing from them. “Do you have any clue what the Rend is or where it is?”
Nex shook his head. Already his healthy flush was fading back to grey. It made me sad and I vowed to make sure he got back to Quorra soon.
“I need to find Vasili, I guess.” I opened my Eye and searched for his strand then grasped it. “Where are you?”
There was silence, then a whisper of emotion. Terror. Shit. Had he gotten himself caught by Amara? If she had him, though, wouldn’t she have blocked him from me as she had Tytan? Unless … unless she couldn’t because he was my trog.
I called him, yanking on the thread with all of my strength and some of Neutria’s. Nothing happened the first time, but the second time he came tumbling into Ty’s manse. He was back to his old self: snake hair, smoke filled eyes, and an air of smarmy desperation. He was also on fire.
“Shit!” I rolled him over and over on the carpet, beating at the flames with my hands and cursing when it burned. Duh. I rolled him up in the rug and managed to smother the fire. He was howling as I unrolled and continued to holler as I surveyed his body. His legs were blackened, his feet a melted mess that made my stomach roll. His hands weren’t much better. “What did she try to do, cook you?”
He blubbered.
I laid my hands on him and went down into the heart. I’d healed Ty once. He’d insisted a kiss would help and it did, but somehow I suspected there had been something behind that kiss that actually did the job. I had no idea where, in the millions of buttons, levers, and switches the healing would be. Since the smell had been a fan and the mental connection had been a microphone I decided the healing would look like a crash cart. Sure enough, the moment I pictured it I found it which led me to wonder which came first: the cart or my thought of the cart.
“Doesn’t matter. Just get it done,” I said to myself. I flipped switches until the cart hummed with energy. Electricity flowed through the machine, down my arms, and into his body. His ruined heels drummed on the floor as the current passed through him. I worried that I might be doing more harm than good but he stopped howling, either because I’d killed him or he was feeling better.
When his feet started reconstructing themselves I flushed with pride. It worked. Hot damn. If I could do this, surely I could figure out some offensive magic so that I could kick Amara’s ass as I’d promised my Skriven I would do.
When new skin had grown back over the parts of him the fire had blackened, I removed my hands and sat on my butt beside him, waiting.
“Thank you,” he said, his voice hoarse. From the smoke? Or screaming?
“Of course. I’m sorry she hurt you and that I put you into harm’s way.”
He choked, coughing and sputtering.
“I’ll get you some water.”
“No.” He cleared his throat when the word came out frog-like. “No. You just. I can’t.” His voice was pained. “You said sorry?”
“Uh, yeah.”
He shut his eyes.
“How’s Ty?”
“I didn’t see him. She grabbed me the second time I asked her for permission to hunt for your spawns’ souls. Didn’t think I would be one to go a’hunting. Foolish of me to use that excuse to bug her.”
“That’s all right. You did what you could.”
“I found something.” He pulled a chain with a flat disc attached to it. “A key.”
“To Tytan’s cell?”
He laughed though it wasn’t happy and it set off another coughing bout. When he could talk again he said, “No. Not to anything I know about. Which means souls, in my mind.”
Oh. Wow. I had the key to the place where she’d hidden her spawns’ souls? Holy shit. She’d go nuclear when she figured out it was gone. As if he read my mind, Vasili said, “She will notice its absence soon. I thought you might use it to bargain for your spawn.”
I rubbed my thumb over the etched surface of the disc. I could. I doubted there was anything she wouldn’t give to get this back. Of course, without knowing where she’d hidden them it was worthless. Unless I could piece together that puzzle. Maybe the wild goose chase I’d sent Ellison on would turn out to be more productive than I’d thought. If he snagged one of her spawn and we chased the thread to its soul, we’d have a huge advantage.
“Thank you for your help. You rock.” I started to reach out to pat him and thought better of it. “Please, stay out of her way. Hide here if you want. I know it’s not your home but it might keep you safe until I figure out how to stop her once and for all.”
“Why?”
“What?”
“I tried to kill you, make you my draw. And you thank me?”
“Well, I’m not
thanking you for that. Don’t forget I stuck you on Earth to make you miserable enough to help me.”
“Yes, you did do that.” He sat up and pulled his knees into his chest. “You made me uncomfortable.” Head bowed, he said, “Whatever it is you need, I will provide it.”
“Really?”
“She wanted to melt the flesh from my bones for being your trog. You dropped me on Earth. Uncomfortable, yes. It didn’t hurt me but for the indignity of suffering those human bodily functions.”
I smiled. “Yeah, human bodies are really high maintenance.”
“It should be me to thank you. I ask that you take me as your spawn and I will devote my life to your service.”
I almost asked if I could even do that then remembered the tree. “No rules.”
Mister “No Rules” Tree-Skriven might regret that when I trampled all over the Slip and remade it into a place where bunnies could scamper unmolested. My smile grew. “Vasili, you have yourself a deal. Where do I sign?”
-TWENTY-ONE-
Vasili took me to the Rend. As far as places went with creepy names, this one wasn’t in the top ten. It might’ve ranked an eleven, though.
It sat on the edge of an orange and murky river. Tytan had brought me to a spot on this river the day he took me to collect the ingredients to make a Formless One―basically the blank in which to put a Skriven soul. I could hear the noise in the waters, like a thousand babbling voices.
Above the noise, on a hill overlooking a bloody sky and shadowed valley, the Rend warped the sky. Ragged edges of the hole fluttered in an absent breeze. I could see bits of the tree that stood on the hill behind the Rend curl and wave in the tattered edges of the rip. Inside crawled darkness. Worse than darkness. An absence of light. It gobbled the light and wanted to gobble me, too.
I took a step back. “What does that lead to?”
“It’s a fold in the Slip. The result of a catastrophe long past. No one knows what happened except the Originators and I’m afraid they aren’t talking to me.”
He’d become downright chatty since he’d pledged himself to me and I’d taken his thread as my own. I’d expected some sort of repercussion, but so far everything had been silent on Amara’s end.
She was waiting for me, I thought. Lying in wait like a spider and I was the dumb bug about to run smack into her web. At least I’d had the intelligence to hide the key, taking it to the swamp and giving it to Nephele after another icky encounter with the heralds.
Vasili had created a map of the Rend as best he could remember. He’d put it directly into my head, guiding me through the maze-like hallways to Amara’s inner sanctum. “She doesn’t have many guards but even a few can fuck you up, if you don’t mind me saying. You’d do best to announce up front you have the key and you’re there to bargain. Otherwise … “
I didn’t like the otherwise part. A sick feeling sat behind my breastbone and made me want to curl up into a ball and pretend that none of this was happening.
“I wish we’d had luck locating your soul.” We’d tried following the thread that connected him to his other half but it had proven impossible. Our failure was good, because that meant Amara had probably struck out too, but it also meant I didn’t have anything to bargain with but the key. I hoped she would be worried enough about me having it that it wouldn’t matter I hadn’t discovered where the souls were hidden.
“All right I’m going in.” I so didn’t want to go in. “Wish me luck.”
“If you get in trouble, I won’t be able to pull you free as you did me. I don’t have that kind of power.”
I clapped him on the shoulder. “Let’s hope I don’t get in trouble then.”
The Rend didn’t get any prettier up close and my mind couldn’t make sense of what I was seeing. It looked like a giant had grabbed hold of reality and ripped a hole in it. I walked all around the gash and it looked the same from all angles, though the sky or ground that I saw in the torn pieces changed depending on where I stood. This was one of those things that could make a person go insane if she looked at it too long.
I looked over my shoulder at Vasili, who looked like a mourner at a funeral. My funeral. Shit, shit, shit.
I took a deep breath and stepped into the breach.
The sense of wrongness was immediate. It reminded me of my first trip to the Slip, though I didn’t feel as scared or helpless.
I eased forward carefully, hands out, not wanting to run my nose into a wall. It wasn’t until lights started coalescing in the distance that I realized I wasn’t in a room. Below me wasn’t floor and there weren’t walls. My stomach dropped and I spun in panic to gaze back at the place I’d entered. It looked like the polar opposite of the doorway from Slip-side. Reality shone through the rip, ragged pieces of torn black space fluttering around the edges.
Okay, I took it back. This was worse than the Slip and nothing I’d seen yet could have prepared me.
How could I possibly find my way around here? It wasn’t even a ‘here’ in the finest sense of the word. It was nothing and it was vast.
Had Vasili tricked me?
Don’t panic, Dev. I let out a breath and then shut my eyes to picture the map in my head. As soon as I did, walls formed around me in my mind and I could see a pathway through a maze of tall black walls that stretched up to a glowing white ceiling.
I opened my eyes and the infinite darkness returned. All righty then.
I shut my eyes and followed the shining path Vasili had traced for me. When I reached out, I could touch the walls. I felt the smooth, slightly textured paint under my fingers, but when I opened my eyes, nothing. And if I reached out while my eyes were open, nothing.
Trippy.
When I got to the fiery X on my mental treasure map, which was Vasili’s warning that I was almost at Amara’s lair, I gave myself a moment to visit the heart’s control room deep in my imagination.
The burnt out hole in the middle was still there, though it looked like something had been hard at work cleaning up the scorch marks. I circled the middle, figuring if I could find a pipe or wiring that led from that central power system to the gauges, I might have a weapon on which to draw if Amara got feisty.
I circled three times before catching a glimpse of a silver tube running below some grating in the floor. I pulled up a few panels so that I could follow the wiring to what looked like a command center―or a fancy video game. I was certain this wasn’t here before but I decided I didn’t have time to question it. I slid into the seat and slipped on the four point harness, buckling it in place. Were things going to get that rough? I hoped not.
I gazed at the screen in front of me and the myriad dials, wondering why I hadn’t done this sooner. Now was not the time to be experimenting with the heart. What if I fucked up and fired flowers or glitter?
I snorted. Considering how quick Skriven were to torture, glitter might actually give me the advantage of surprise. That moment of “What the fuck?” could allow me to get away.
“I’m going insane,” I said to the control room. Tapping on the armrest of the seat, I contemplated the equipment before me. What would be the basic weapon? A cannon blast of power. That would work in a pinch and wouldn’t be complicated.
As I watched, the dash folded in on itself and a joystick emerged, complete with a big red firing toggle and button.
I recognized the configuration. Tom had bought this very same controller for his fighter-pilot games he liked to play on the computer late at night. He’d shown me how to play and it became one of the few games I’d enjoyed enough to get good at.
I thumbed open the clear plastic cover and flipped the toggle. The screen lit up and green cross hairs appeared. I moved the stick and the cross hairs moved in response.
Excellent.
I was ready as I ever could be I supposed.
I removed my awareness from the heart, hoping that something of me remained behind to work the control stick if I needed to fight.
I considered, briefly
, wandering through the maze to see if I could locate Tytan on my own but I still wasn’t able to feel his essence or see his thread and I didn’t want to linger here forever or worse, get lost.
“Get it over with.”
I pushed forward, past Vasili’s marker. ‘This one,’ Vasili had said, ‘takes you back into the Slip.’ I opened my eyes to see a shimmering slice in reality. Or would that be surreality? Shaking off the question, I pondered the careful excision of this rip. What had it taken to rip the first hole and who had carefully opened the second? And what crazy Skriven had first seen the Rend and decided he or she needed to jump inside and explore?
Two Skriven guards stood on the other side of the hole, blocking me from entering further than a foot. They wore armor but with enough flesh showing that I realized they were there more for Amara’s viewing pleasure than for defense. The vast space I’d covered between the two rips was defense enough.
Or should have been but for one enterprising little human being. Namely moi.
“I need to speak to Amara.” My voice echoed on the red-rock canyon walls that rose up on all sides, giving me the impression that I was standing in the guts of a volcano. I looked up and saw a ragged blue sky framed by the same red rocks that seemed to confirm my suspicions.
“Thank you for taking Vasili off my hands. He’s a worthless git, always puttering around with his experiments. It’s how I knew he was trolling for you. As if he would ever volunteer to leave the Slip.” Amara’s voice floated to me on a wind current.
I couldn’t see her, her goons were blocking my line of sight, but I lifted my nose and breathed in the smells. “I’ve come for Tytan.”
Her laughter bounced off the walls like a madwoman in Bedlam. “Oh, of course. I’ll just hand him over. So sorry for taking your time.”
No goon movement but then again, I knew sarcasm when I heard it and hadn’t expected them to just let me by. “You aren’t going to find his soul.”
“No? Are you so sure that your house is such a perfect hiding place? And secure. Heavens, three whole protection circles. However will I break through?”