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Path of the Heretic (The Beholder Book 2)

Page 20

by Ivan Amberlake


  Chapter 36

  On Piccadilly Circus, a huge crater gaped at the somber skies where the statue used to be. There was no way to tell where the London Underground entrance used to be. The façades of the buildings circling the square were either missing or battered severely. Cars and double-decker buses roiled with flames, some of them crumpled beyond recognition.

  No one guarded the entrance. There was no need to. Everyone was about a mile below the ground, and no one else was coming.

  Something rumbled deep underground.

  “Another explosion. Are they really going to eradicate the whole city?” Kyle said.

  Jason moved closer to the crater, but Kyle grabbed him by the shoulder.

  “Don’t go. There are dozens of them there.”

  “What then? Wait till they kill everyone?” Jason yanked his shoulder free. “My friends are in there. Even if I had a choice, I would never consider staying away.” Jason took a step forward and jumped off the edge, letting his feet sink into the sand. With a few persistent strides he reached the bottom of the crater and turned to Kyle.

  “Are you coming?” he called.

  The young guard stood riveted to the spot, his face drained of color.

  “Sorry, I’m not ready,” he said softly.

  “Not ready for what?”

  “To die.”

  “So you think the Dark Ones are going to spare you afterwards?” He turned away from Kyle, overwhelmed with mixed feelings of gratitude to the man who’d saved his life on the one hand and disappointment that Kyle was reluctant to defend his friends on the other.

  “I hope we’ll meet again.” He then faced the darkness below and with a sharp intake of breath plunged into the abyss.

  He entered the Sight and thousands of icy needles pierced his body. The Dark Ones had made sure it would physically hurt him to go deeper and deeper, along the tunnel that looked unfamiliar because it flared with crimson, inundated with so much hatred for him that his lungs burned in his chest. And it was too late for him to exit the Sight: one wrong move and he’d crash into a tunnel wall and die.

  Fight fire with fire, he thought, diving into the intricate web of the trails left by the Darksighted, zigzagging amongst them and crushing the stronger ones. His tactics seemed to work as he whooshed downwards. At times the dark traces grazed his shoulders, and bits of what was going on far underground entered his mind—the entrance doors crumbling, Pariah forcing his way into the City.

  The fight had begun, but in this war even seconds mattered. Dave’s people were doing their best to prevent the Legates from killing the Unsighted. How much longer will they stand?

  The tunnel swerved to the right, and Jason didn’t have time to carefully take the turn. The tunnel bend went too sharp, and he rammed the wall with his shoulders. He slid down the wall at a tremendous speed, carried closer and closer to the deafening roar rattling below.

  Hundreds of doors, dozens of corridors swished by. He caught sight of the final corridor, the one that led towards the city entrance. With both his feet he pushed himself away from the wall and dived into the corridor, free-falling towards the entrance. To his horror, it was blown to smithereens.

  Anger he’d never imagined before welled up in him. It was the first time Jason wished to kill. To put an end to the existence of those who meant to demolish the city and slaughter everyone inside. Soaring past the broken doors, he spiraled downwards, right into the thick of the battlefield swarming with intense crimson auras that outshined the few feeble silver lights, pushing them closer to the City.

  “He’s here!” someone yelled.

  Most of the Darksighted stopped in midair, distracted by Jason’s appearance. Like frenzied hornets, they zoomed towards him, their hatred vibrating through Jason’s chest. Something had to be done to tackle all of them at once. A thousand frantic thoughts dashed through his mind within a heartbeat.

  Then he thought of Emily.

  He absorbed all the spare Energy floating around, even the tiniest particles, and the next instant, he let it loose. Before anyone managed to get to him, the air exploded and a violent blast wave whisked the Darksighted away like motes of dust, ripping their flesh, forcing them to roar with fury.

  The skies flared, and for the first time Jason glimpsed the high ceiling that protected the City. He’d thought this place didn’t have one, but it was high above the skyscrapers’ roofs. It was a huge dome embellished with angels and demons waging a fierce war. The bright light lasted for a few moments, then slowly faded, replaced by an iridescent veil of mauve. The nebula settled over the city, creating a perfect night sky with constellations of tiny stars embedded into it.

  It was Emily who’d showed him this stunt. It was the only way to tackle such a vast number of Dark Ones. Even though his attempt was nothing compared to the spellbinding aurora Emily had painted over New York City, it did help him drive away most of the Dark Ones, even if only for a short while.

  Exhausted and breathing heavily, Dave approached Jason. “I’m so glad you made it!”

  “Thanks. I’ll take over from here,” Jason said. “You’d better join the others and help move the people to the bunkers.”

  “Are you sure?” Dave asked.

  Jason nodded once.

  Dave called the Lightsighted and told them to go to the bunkers and help with getting the Londoners to safety. He wished Jason good luck and headed for the City center.

  Jason’s wave hadn’t affected a few of the Dark Ones. Pariah was one of them. He shot to the nearest building, landing on its roof, and Jason followed him, winding up a few yards away.

  “We meet again,” Jason said. “The world is a small place.”

  “Yes, and I hate it,” Pariah responded. “I’ve got something here that you might want to have.” He fished what looked like a corked vial out of his cloak’s inner pocket. As Pariah’s fingers played with it, pain tingled along the knuckles of Jason’s fist. It took Jason all his will not to flinch.

  “Why would I want this?”

  “’Cause it belongs to you,” Pariah said. “I mean, it used to.”

  “And what’s that?” he asked, squinting.

  “It’s the reason why I had to stay in hiding for a few months. The reason why you were so predictable and easy to find the last few weeks.”

  Jason knotted his eyebrows. Pariah’s eyes sparkled in a jubilant way, his expression telling Jason there was more to the story.

  All of a sudden, the Dark One squeezed the vial, and it cracked in his fist, a wisp of silver smoke wafting over his palm. Jason’s right hand burst into an agony so sharp his vision blurred. It felt as if someone had thrust a huge nail into his flesh. At lightning speed it spread throughout his body. He sucked in a frantic breath, then felt as if a noose was being pulled around his neck, crushing his windpipe. The darkest corner of his mind caught only bits of what was going on afterwards—him stumbling back on his weakened legs, falling on his back, Pariah’s feet brushing unhurriedly, his shadow eclipsing the nebulae floating above the skyscrapers. Jason’s throat clenched so hard he shut his eyes, no longer seeing anything.

  He heard someone screaming, then realized it was him, bawling, wailing, terrified, helpless. Then the pain subsided for a little while.

  “Now you feel what I’ve felt,” Pariah’s voice reached him as if from afar. “Remember when you punched me there, at Evelyn & Laurens? I thought that would be the end of me. I’d never experienced that kind of pain. No one could help me.” Pariah shook his head. “I spent hours thinking what you’d done to cause it. Day after day I told myself it’s going to stop, but it didn’t. I didn’t know then how you managed to make me suffer so much, but I swore I’d pay you back. And then, do you know what happened? I got used to it. To this freaking pain driving me crazy. Even intolerable pain kills itself over time, makes your body unresponsive, immune. It just can’t last forever.”

  He clawed his long fingers over the silver light, and Jason’s spine arched, as sparks fleck
ed his vision.

  “No! Stop it!” Jason begged, trying to grasp Pariah’s hand, but he only managed to grab the toe of his boot. “Make it … stop!”

  Pariah brushed Jason’s fingers off his boot, then got up and stomped on Jason’s wrist. Jason tried to wriggle his hand free, but it was trapped in a relentless vise.

  “This,” Pariah brought the wisp of silver light pooled in his hand closer to Jason’s face, “is a tiny piece of your soul that stuck in my shoulder that night. Took me a while to figure out that now I could control some of your senses. Follow and find you, wherever you were. I was so excited at first, but now that you’re at my mercy, it is kind of boring.” Pariah let go of Jason’s hand, distracted by the sounds of the battle renewed far below. He walked to the edge of the roof to take a look at his army reviving from Jason’s attempt to stop them and unleashing another attack on the city.

  The pain in Jason’s body ebbed slowly away as Pariah opened his palm and stared at the tiny silver threads hovering above it.

  “Do you know what’s funny?” Pariah smirked. “You and I, we are not as different as you think. Once I used to be just like you, thrilled to make the world perfect, free of suffering and disease.”

  “I’m not trying to make it perfect,” he said slowly. “I just want to free it from the likes of you.” Then Pariah’s words sunk in. “Wait, what do you mean, you used to be like me? You … used to be a Lightsighted?”

  Pariah only pursed his lips. “That’s the only reason I was able to live with the part of your soul stuck in me. If I were a pure Darksighted I’d already be dead.”

  “You are a Transcendent?”

  Pariah’s face lit in a smile. “Spot on. A long time ago I believed that Light was the only right way to everything, and I wished to prove it. I had brilliant ideas, but they refused to listen to me. At first Dave, that son of a bitch, and then Nicholas and Rebecca. They said my ideas were blasphemy. And all I wanted was to bring order to this chaos.”

  “Chaos?”

  “People. Unsighted. The way they live. The meaninglessness of their existence. It’s just killing me. We could be using them to create a whole new generation. Perfect, flawless.”

  “Use them? Like puppets?” Jason asked. “Take their Energy and then get rid of them?”

  Pariah clenched Jason’s light in his fist, and Jason hollered with pain.

  “So you think Dave views them differently?” Pariah scoffed. “The Unsighted are material that we—Sighted—can mold into something superior and make them serve us.”

  Jason found it too hard to think clearly through the searing pain. Thoughts came in tangled knots as Pariah threw more and more surprises at him.

  “Why tell me all this?” he asked. “Why not just kill me?”

  “Who told you I want to kill you?” Pariah unclenched his fist and eyed the light in his palm with reverence. “I have other plans for you.”

  Three silhouettes emerged next to Pariah. Jason recognized Catherine’s smug face, Tyler’s hateful stare, and a blond guy Jason hadn’t met. All of them cringed at the shining in Pariah’s hands.

  “Björn, take this carefully,” Pariah said, and the blond guy took the piece of Jason’s soul, his shaking hands betraying his anxiety.

  Pariah knelt down and grabbed Jason’s hand, inspected it, and nodded in approval. “Just perfect.” He raised his head. “Tyler, come here.”

  Tyler knelt beside Jason on the other side from Pariah. His knuckles turned white as he clenched his fists at being so close to Jason.

  Without warning, Pariah raked across Tyler’s face, his nails thrusting deep into the flesh. Tyler recoiled, pushing himself away with hands and legs like a spider, panicked, shocked, repulsed at what Pariah had done.

  “Are you freaking crazy?” he yelled, clutching the mangled side of his face, hyperventilating.

  “Stop sniveling. Another scar won’t hurt you. Come here. Now,” Pariah whispered, his eyes sparkling as he surveyed the drops staining the tips of his fingers. He pressed Jason’s hand with his foot so that it lay palm down. Pariah traced his fingers along Jason’s scar and it slit open. Jason screamed. He tried to wrench his hand from Pariah’s grip, but he was too weak.

  “Catherine, hold him so that he doesn’t play any tricks.”

  She shackled Jason’s left arm with her hands, pressing her weight against it.

  “What are you doing, you freak?” Jason asked. “Whatever you’re planning, it’s not going to work. Darkness cannot prevail. Light will always drive it away.” Though Jason still had remnants of will, he wasn’t sure he believed the words that escaped his lips.

  Pariah raised his fingers above Jason’s scar, watching as Tyler’s blood seeped one drop after another into the slit.

  “Your blood—blood of the newly converted—has unique capacities, and one of them is the ability to affect the blood of a traitor in various ways.” He chuckled quietly, then inspected Jason’s wound. “Okay, that’ll do,” he muttered, then removed his foot from Jason’s hand, and Catherine followed suit.

  “Let’s go,” he said, taking the light away from Björn who heaved a sigh of relief as the silver light was gone from his fingers.

  Jason’s head spun. Unable to stir his limbs, he closed his eyes, and let the sounds of the battle assault his hazy mind.

  I can’t let that happen. He opened his eyes, raised his head a bit, but it felt too heavy. Through pain, he turned to look at the city below where the battle kept raging, flashes illuminating the city.

  It’s not supposed to happen this way. His heart pounded erratically in his chest, his vision blurring. And then darkness eclipsed the light.

  I don’t want to turn into a Darksighted, he thought, and yet he was unable to resist the infection spreading through his veins. What kind of Chosen One am I if I’m unable to defend those in need?

  He’d promised Matt that he would return. The thought that he would probably never see him or Debbie again filled Jason with bitterness and sorrow.

  Darkness encroached upon his mind way too fast, enveloping it like a blanket. The crimson flashes and silver shining faded, and then were completely gone, replaced by blackness. He let out his last breath as emptiness took his life away from him.

  Chapter 37

  Debbie pushed herself forward, though it felt more like wading through quicksand. With each step she tried harder not to listen to her inner self that told her to stop, turn back, and run after Matt and Tonia. The closer she got to the fighting, the more sense it made for her to listen to that voice and turn around.

  Bodies lay sprawled along the way, blood staining the streets here and there.

  Far in the distance to her right, thousands of people huddled together with their backs to her. The crowd was so vast it was impossible to see what was going on far beyond, but there was supposed to be one of the bunkers where the Unsighted were being transported.

  When complete stillness settled over the city, Debbie stopped. Someone appeared at the entrance, and a few moments later the skies erupted with blinding whiteness.

  Debbie squinted at the light, watching the Darksighted being whisked away by the explosion wave like motes of dust. Then the shining was gone, replaced by a beautiful nebula, boasting a kaleidoscope of iridescent colors.

  It’s Jason. He’s made it! she thought. No one else could have conjured up such a beautiful nebula above the city. No one except Emily, but it couldn’t be her.

  With renewed confidence Debbie dashed forward, towards Jason’s light, when suddenly it faltered, shrouded by a crimson aura.

  Something isn’t right. She was so consumed by what was going on up there that she didn’t notice when a Darksighted lunged at her from behind and coiled his massive arm around her neck.

  Choking, Debbie tugged at the attacker’s arm, but it held her neck fast and got stronger. Suddenly the vise slackened, when both of them were pushed backwards. She dropped, panting, and raised her head. A young man held her attacker’s skull and t
hrust it to the side, breaking his neck. The Dark One sprawled on the ground, his crimson aura fading. Her savior let go of the dead Sighted and rushed to her, but Debbie was so panicked that her instinct for survival kicked in and she crawled back, farther away from him.

  The young man stopped and raised his hands. “I mean you no harm. I’m Kyle. Are you all right?”

  Shivering, Debbie gave a quick nod.

  Debbie felt disgusted by the things she’d gotten to know of the Sighted world. It wasn’t full of miracles at all. It was ruthless, with no place for mercy in it.

  The young man did seem harmless, so she raised her shaking hand towards him when one of the Legates rammed into Kyle at full speed. It happened so fast Debbie screamed, tears rolling down her cheeks. Both men slid and rolled, kicking and punching each other along the way. Tonia swished past Debbie to come to Kyle’s rescue. Debbie stared unblinking as they ripped the Dark One’s body to shreds then scattered in different directions to fight against new Dark Ones who kept coming.

  Debbie couldn’t take it anymore. She looked away, then up to where Jason was supposed to be. His nebula was nearly gone, pretty much like Debbie’s hopes for everyone in this city to survive.

  “Jason Walker’s dead,” Pariah hollered to the crowd. “Kill everyone!”

  Something snapped inside Debbie.

  “No. Not you, too,” she mumbled, shell-shocked.

  “Raze everything to the ground!” Pariah’s voice thundered. The crowd that descended in regular formations into the bunker rippled with nervousness. The Unsighted who had been under some sort of spell that never let them know where they were, woke up from their dreaming, awakened by Pariah’s thunderous call. Scared, they started shoving and elbowing each other, no longer under the control of the Lightsighted.

  “We have to get back to the bunker,” Tonia said, grabbing Debbie’s hand and pulling her back.

 

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