by K. Gorman
Come on, she thought. You’re smarter than this. You’re me.
“He never loved you,” she continued. “He only loved himself.”
Bernard’s lips twitched in amusement. “I raised her from a child. She’ll never go with you.”
Karin wasn’t so sure―Grace had an uncomfortable look on her face that made her think that the woman had come to many sorts of conclusions about herself years ago―but it didn’t matter.
She was using the conversation as a distraction.
She smiled. “Have you not learned anything in all your years studying myths, raising kids?” She smiled. “Children rebel.”
As if on cue, something shifted in her bones. The Shadow erupted out of her, straining through her skin in a dissolved black mist.
She threw the sword and staggered back.
The tip missed, just as she thought it would, but her Shadow had caught Bernard’s attention instead―as an otherworldly being, he did not have control of it, and she had not told him about her connection to the Shadows.
She grabbed the knife at her back and lunged forward, the bulk of her body crashing straight through her Shadow to catch him in the side. Light exploded from her skin. She stabbed the knife in, catching him in the hip, and felt the blade turn as it hit bone. He cried out, and fingers clamped down on her hand, crushing her grip into the hilt.
Then, the Shadow grabbed them both. The dimensional boundaries pulled at her, already shifting across.
Her mind clicked as they landed in the Shadow version of the lab, the world’s hushed quiet floating down around the roar of her mind.
She took advantage of Bernard’s momentary confusion, stabbed the knife harder into his hip, activated her Eurynome powers, and pulled all three of them into Tartarus.
His blood hit the warm stones of a courtyard on Mount Olympus.
Bright sunlight filled the air around them, its heat and light driving into her blood with purpose. She staggered back, yelling as she ripped her grip away from him. Her boots slid on the stone, and she sank down.
At the side, her Shadow also backed up, its form rippling under the sun.
Shaking with pain, she watched as Bernard Corringham jerked the knife from his body and straightened, eyes squinting as he looked around.
Medical patches, Tia diagnosed. He has at least three. His bleeding has already stopped.
Though blood soaked through the fabric of his jeans and he still listed in that direction, the rest of his posture and body language showed no signs of pain.
Well, she thought. We got him over. Now what?
So far, Bernard did not seem at all concerned with his new predicament.
“That was well done,” he said, slowly rotating to take in his new surroundings. “Where am I?”
“Mount Olympus,” she said. “In Tartarus.”
An alarmed shout came from the side. In her peripheral vision, several figures ran out from one of the buildings―Marc, Soo-jin, Reeve, Takahashi, and Baik.
She’d taken Bernard into the main courtyard of the temple complex, and they were several levels below. Over a mile away.
No help from them.
As Bernard completed his circle, the knife in his hand caught the sun in a blinding gleam. She bent to one knee and removed the knife from her right leg’s sheath.
She gritted her teeth.
Fuck.
“Tartarus,” he said, musing the word.
Then, Tylanus was there, kneeling at her side, helping her balance. “Don’t move. It’s all going to be okay.”
“We need to kill him,” she muttered, pitching her voice low so that it wouldn’t carry. “We need weapons. Guns. I―”
He restrained her when she tried to get back up. “Shhh. It’s okay. Stay down.”
She glanced over to him. “What? But if he gets to the Cradle―”
“He won’t,” he said simply.
She frowned.
Then, they were no longer alone.
There was a ripple in the air, and the wind shifted. Like someone lifting the veil of a curtain, the former Eurynome Programs appeared, clumping in loose groups around the courtyard, lining the balconies of the second and third stories, coming up from the garden path below. Hundreds of children, close to a thousand, all making their way to the same area.
The breath went out of her.
Layla strode forward from the rest, her head tilted in a predatory way that she recognized from Nomiki, hair bunched up on either side of her head, her small body lithe and strong.
“Hello, Bernard,” she said. “We’ve been waiting for you.”
Bernard frowned, his expression shifting from wonder to confusion. “Athena?”
Layla’s jaw worked, the rage barely contained. Karin felt power fluctuate. Above, the sun shone down, pushing its heat into her skin, strengthening her Eos energy. The wind mixed in, strikingly cold. She caught the scent of warm grass and wildflower, and lake water from the large pond below.
“No,” Layla said. “My name is Layla. And we are not your pawns.”
And, with that, power ripped through the air, and the entire population of children surged forward. Blood splattered on the stone, and Bernard gave a pained shout.
He was strong. He fought hard. Energy clashed, blasted apart. Thunder rumbled in the distance.
But the children were stronger, and they were already dead.
When they were finished with him, only a pile of bloody flesh and bone lay smeared across the stones, along with the shreds of his clothes and the golden knife she’d stabbed into him, which lay a few meters away, gleaming against the red.
She stared, her mind processing it.
Then, she closed her eyes.
It was over.
Tylanus remained by her side as Layla approached. Vibrant blood covered the girl’s dress and skin, a small shield-like object in one hand and an equally bloody spear in the other.
“Thank you, Karin,” she said. “We have waited a long time for this.”
“What will you do now?” she asked.
“I don’t know.” Layla looked around, taking in the temple and its mountains. “This place isn’t half bad. And I suppose it is an underworld. Quite suitable for a lot of dead kids.”
Karin’s lips twitched. “I suppose.”
“You are welcome here as long as you wish.” Tylanus shifted, flowing smoothly into a standing position. “Although I do wonder―could you forgive my mother?”
“Forgive?” Layla asked.
“She killed us,” another child said. “She doesn’t deserve our forgiveness.”
“She didn’t kill us. She is one of us.” Layla made a gesture with her spear to indicate Mount Olympus and the temple. “Besides, she built all of this.”
“She was still complicit in our deaths,” the other child said. He was a tall, thin boy with fire-red hair and freckles speckling his skin. Karin didn’t recognize him, so he must have been before her time.
“We’ll put it up for debate,” Layla concluded. “Tonight. Everyone will get a say.”
Tylanus nodded. “Thank you.”
“Do you mind if we bring outsiders here?” Karin asked. “I know Fallon and the Alliance will want to make sure that he is dead.”
Layla glanced at the others.
“Fallon, no. They insulted us when they allowed Seirlin back into their plunder. But the Alliance can come.” She fixed Karin with a look, tilting her head―more like a peacock than a predator, this time. “You, however, need medical help.”
Karin couldn’t agree more.
Tylanus helped her up. By now, Marc, Soo-jin, and the others had arrived.
Marc got to her first. As Tylanus handed her over, he took her good arm and steadied her balance, careful of the newly bruised and broken fingers. She leaned against him as he looked around, his focus landing on the lumpy smear of blood on the ground several meters away.
“Is it over?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said. “It’s ove
r.”
Chapter Forty-Five
They got her back in the Med unit. They also brought her food. Tylanus took care of transporting people over. Reeve didn’t like that Fallon had been banned.
“Well, I guess they’re going to have to live with the consequences of their decisions, aren’t they?” she told him. “It’s not just me and Nomiki they pissed off; it’s all of the undead children in the Cradle. All of them. Everyone that the Eurynome Project killed. If you want to argue, take it up with Layla. She’s the one holding the bloodied spear.”
He didn’t stay long after that. But she suspected he would talk to Tylanus rather than Layla. He was less likely to put a spear through his gut.
Sleep came for a while. It always did with nanos. The sensation hit her like a truck and knocked her out for a solid forty-five minutes. When she awoke, there were three Centauri cyborgs guarding the room, and the sounds of landing ships and walking people came from outside.
She shifted, and Marc looked up from the side of the bed. “Karin? Are you all right?”
She winced, feeling the beginning of one of her headaches. “Yeah. Pretty sure this is normal.”
“Your arm is broken in seven places,” Takahashi said from the side of the room. “That is not considered normal.”
“Yes, but it’s being fixed, so I’m pretending it doesn’t exist.”
“Can I get you something?” Marc asked. “Food? Water? A massage?”
“I think I’ll pass on the massage, but thanks for the offer.” With a cautious look, she examined her arm.
It looked…better. Less mangled, anyway, though incredibly puffed up from the swelling. Dark splotches of bruising rose from beneath the skin, evidence of the damage.
“You should lie back down,” Marc said. “You need your rest. I’ll keep watch.”
As absurd as it was for him to keep watch when she literally had three of her own guards standing in the room with her, she appreciated the gesture.
“No, I feel like sitting.” There was something happening in her mind, like an itching sensation. It felt like Tia was working on something.
What are you doing in there?
Tia didn’t respond.
Whatever.
She took a breath, blinking a few times to clear the sleep from her eyes, then drew her attention outside.
The sun was still shining. There was that. It looked like late afternoon, from what she could see, with the shadows just starting to grow long around the temple. The smell had changed, too.
“Is my sister around?”
“Which one?”
“The adult one.”
“Yes. I saw them both wander off together about an hour ago.”
Ah, yes. Definitely not up to trouble. Looking through the door, she watched Alliance troops unload cargo from the back of a scout class vessel. A few of the Eurynome kids mingled with them, following the techs and soldiers around.
Good.
She eyed the closest Centauri. He wasn’t Malouf, but he had a similar build.
“Hey, you,” she said. “What’s your name?”
He gave a small bow, his cybernetic muscles flexing. “I am Ensign Felix Vollardt, Regent.”
Interesting. She hadn’t yet heard of a cyborg below the rank of Lieutenant.
“Thank you, Ensign. Can you tell me if Lieutenant Seki and Specialist Malouf made it out of Japan?”
He cringed. “I’m afraid they did not, Regent.”
So, Bernard had killed them both. Like she’d thought.
Probably, the two had charged in the second her comms device went offline. They had been her bodyguards, after all. And the Centauri were not cowards.
“I am sorry to hear that. Thank you, Ensign. I―Ow!” She hissed, wincing as a sudden pain stabbed into her head.
Marc tensed. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I just―hang on.” She rubbed at her temple with her good hand. “Tia, what the hell was that?”
At first, she didn’t think the woman was going to respond, but after several seconds, she felt a flicker from her side of the brain.
I don’t want to go back.
“What do you mean, ‘you don’t want to go back’? You have to go back.”
She gritted her teeth as the pain increased. At her side, Marc stiffened.
“Doctor―”
“On it.” Takahashi was already approaching, the diagnostics crown in his hand. “Hold still, Karin.”
There was a syringe in his other hand.
“No!”
Pain ripped through her mind. Karin screamed, feeling herself shrink. Her vision blacked out in a fit of light, the scream echoing through her skull. The headache split through the bone, driving deep.
Then, like catching a ball that someone had let drop, she felt Tia reach forward and take control.
All awareness ceased. When she could see again, it was like taking a backseat to her brain.
She was not the one in control.
“Don’t you fucking touch me,” Tia snarled, already on her feet and prowling around the side of the bed. Her powers fluctuated in the room. She could feel them rising around her.
Marc had taken Takahashi to the other side of the room, away from her.
Her lip curled.
Good instincts.
“Karin?” he asked, his voice hesitant, full of doubt.
“No. Not Karin.” She scanned the room, taking inventory. “Not anymore.”
She had to get out of there.
No, Karin said, pounding on the wall of glass that separated them. Don’t hurt anyone.
“Then they better stay out of my way, Karin. I’m not going back into that tank,” Tia snarled. “I’ve changed. I am a different person. I am sentient and self-aware of my changes. And I will not go back. God, I’d rather die than go back to that hellhole of corrupting software and cockroach-infested circuitry.”
Tia turned to the door. Several of the kids were looking at her now.
They knew what was happening.
She had to get away.
But―where?
Her gaze jerked to the top. She could use Sasha’s Cradle. If she gained control of that…
She strode out the door without another word, aiming for the building next to them. There was a set of stairs there. She remembered them from Karin’s memory.
Someone shouted her name―no, not her name, Karin’s name. She ignored it, focused on the door.
Program Athena met her on the inside.
“You’re not supposed to be doing this,” she said. “You know better.”
“I know that I want to live,” she replied, twisting her gaze down. “What are you going to do about it?”
Athena dropped off, her dark eyes sharp and smart.
Then, she faded away.
Fuck.
Tia started running.
The temple was a maze of hallways. She raced through them, the boots Athena had loaned her earlier thumping hard under her feet. Pain was starting to spread through her arm, the nanos wearing off. And there was the echo of pain in her head from what she’d done to overthrow Karin.
She gritted her teeth and kept moving.
Come on, combat stims. Kick in.
Then, about midway through her second staircase, she felt the world shift.
As an experiment, she tried her Eurynome powers.
She couldn’t find the dimensional boundaries.
Someone must have told Tartarus what she’d done.
Great. Now I’m a prisoner in Tartarus. How very fitting.
You can still stop, Karin thought at her. We can fix this. The Centauri have the technology. Maybe they can even build you a body?
“Why would I settle on cybernetics when I have a perfectly good body already?” she said. “Besides, my brain has rotted in that tank. And I’m not the same Tia that came out of there. I am something different. And, likely, the Tia that is in there has also changed.”
That’s what people do. Change. That
’s how you know that you’re alive.
“I’m not alive. Not anymore. Just a ghost who should have died a long time ago, clinging to a life that isn’t hers―but I will cling to it. I will not go back in that tank!”
“Karin!”
The shout came from the side, echoing up the corridor. She increased her speed, wincing at the jostle on her arm as she headed into a limping run.
Gods, this mountain was big. She passed Selene and Helios, along with Eos and the tank that had been destined for her. The trunk of a cord on the ceiling thickened in size, indicating that she was going in the right direction.
Then, she turned a corner and ran into Karin’s sister.
Nomiki stood at the end of the corridor, her stance closed and her expression blank. Beside her, the other Nomiki, Program Enyo, stood in a similar position, watching her.
Tia halted. Her lips twisted. “You wouldn’t kill your own sister.”
Nomiki didn’t answer, but there was a flicker in her expression.
Program Enyo shifted. She lifted a spear like the one Athena had wielded, but thinner, sharper.
“Really? You would?” She made a disgusted sound in her throat. “Karin would be so disappointed.”
Actually, no I wouldn’t be. I’m not. Fuck you. Give me my body back.
“If it was so easy to take, then do you really deserve it?” she asked. Then, she shifted her focus ahead.
Nomiki had begun to move.
Karin’s sister slid toward her in a slow, predatory glide, every step measured and exact. A shiver went through her, an involuntary reaction.
Experimentally, she tried her Eurynome powers.
Nothing. She was still blocked.
Which meant she’d have to find Tylanus to get out.
Or, connect herself with the Cradle and take control. Of this world and the next.
She steeled herself. “Fine. Let’s do this.”
The words drew barely a flicker from Nomiki. Nor from Enyo, who followed in her wake.
When Nomiki did speak, her words hummed with unbridled rage. “You dare negate your bargain, Tia Sarayu?”
“I will not go back,” she said. “I cannot.”
“You will, or you will experience death again―and this time, I will make sure you feel it.”