The lightning wrapped around her wrist like handcuffs. Eleanor screamed in pain and released the Invictum. The knife plummeted toward the ground. The Storm King’s eyes gleamed as he raced after it.
But Eleanor was young and recovered from the lightning strike much faster than expected. As the Storm King tried to fly past her, Eleanor let out a scream of pure rage and charged at him, sending a forceful blast of wind at his body. The Storm King flew backward, tumbling head over heels before slamming into the castle’s outer wall with a sickening crunch.
His body went limp and fell toward the hard ground below.
As Brendan scampered across the battlefield, searching for a weapon, he saw Cordelia throw her sword at a frost beast. The roar that followed caused the hairs on Brendan’s neck to stand up on end. He knew in an instant that if he didn’t do something to intervene, Cordelia would be killed.
He leaped to his feet and sprinted toward a dead Union soldier with an ax lying near him. Brendan grabbed the ax handle and then he spun back around to go save Cordelia when a thump to his left caught his attention.
It was the Invictum; it had fallen from the sky and lodged partially into the ground. The diamond blade sparkled invitingly in the sunlight.
Brendan looked up and saw Eleanor attacking the Storm King. He knew this was his only chance to possibly regain control of the battle. He knew how powerful the Invictum was. He had felt its strength the few times he’d held it. And most important, he’d seen it slice open the magical portal between two worlds.
Brendan needed to get it. They needed it to save their world.
But someone else had also spotted the Invictum. Just ten feet away, Krom held a bloody sword in his hand and stared at the powerful knife. His eyes trailed over toward Brendan, and he sneered.
Brendan gripped the ax and looked back at Cordelia. The frost beast was still approaching her. She was backed into a corner. Brendan knew there would only be time for one course of action.
He could either get to the Invictum and allow his sister Cordelia to die. Or he could save Cordelia’s life and let Krom get possession of the Invictum, which would be sealing all their fates.
In a moment of true panic, Brendan froze. He hesitated for several seconds longer than needed to make a split-second decision. The gravity of the situation absolutely paralyzed him.
But then he snapped himself out of it. He just needed to get the Invictum first—then he could save Cordelia. Without the Invictum, all was lost. Everyone in San Francisco, maybe everyone on the planet, would die. If he didn’t get to that knife first, then Cordelia would eventually die anyway, along with everyone else, including him. More important, he reasoned, it’s what Cordelia would want him to do.
Brendan ran toward the Invictum, dirt kicking up behind him.
Krom and Brendan lunged for the Invictum simultaneously. In the first few seconds of his mad dash toward the knife, Brendan realized that Krom would get there first. And so going directly for the knife would virtually ensure his own bloody death.
He saw Krom’s eyes, however, and realized that the big Savage Warrior didn’t even register Brendan as a physical threat. All that mattered to Krom was getting the magical knife.
So as Brendan approached, he slowed and steadied himself, allowing Krom to wrap his thick sausage fingers around the handle of the Invictum. In that moment of victory, as Krom grinned and stared at the knife’s sparkling blade, Brendan reared the ax backward and swung it like a baseball bat.
The blade sailed through the air and passed right by Krom’s head without any resistance.
Brendan had missed!
He had planned it perfectly, had his shot, and missed! And now he was going to die right along with everyone else. Krom had a ridiculous victory grin on his face. He was savoring the moment as he held up the Invictum in celebratory arrogance.
“Stop gloating and get it over with already,” Brendan said.
“If you insist,” Krom said with a sickening smile as he reared back the blade to slice up Brendan like deli meat.
But a thunderous explosion above them caused Krom to hesitate. They both looked up and saw a flaming World War II plane spiraling toward them at hundreds of miles per hour. Brendan only had enough time to duck and then was knocked by the force of the crashing plane impacting the ground.
He sat up again, dazed. Krom was no longer standing in front of him. The Invictum lay on the ground where he had stood moments ago. Behind it was a streak of burned ground and plane wreckage that carved a fifty-foot path into the dirt. Brendan saw what was left of Krom in the burning heap of metal.
“Gross!” Brendan said to no one in particular, before quickly jumping to his feet and grabbing the Invictum.
He spun around, hoping that Cordelia was somehow still okay.
But he was too late.
Brendan had turned just in time to see Cordelia staring straight at him, her mouth forming a scream. Then the frost beast leaned in, roaring savagely. Brendan felt his body go numb.
Brendan let the Invictum fall from his hand and clatter to the ground. None of it mattered anymore; he was already defeated. As tears streamed down his face, Brendan remembered Cordelia teaching him how to read when he was in preschool. He remembered how she always saved the last cookie or bit of dessert for him. He could only remember the good things—the times she was the best older sister a kid could imagine. And he had let her die because he’d hesitated just a moment too long. He had been preoccupied with being the hero instead of just acting.
And now it was all over for him. He knew he would not be able to get his legs working again.
Brendan was still too dazed and torn apart by what he had just let happen to notice the bright liquid metal sphere floating down toward him from the sky. Gilbert’s ship’s sensors had picked up on powerful energy readings from the ongoing battle between the Storm King and Eleanor. Once his attention had been diverted, he’d witnessed the entire struggle for the Invictum.
He landed the sphere, stepped out, and stood next to Brendan.
“I let her die,” Brendan said quietly, not looking up. “I could have saved her, but instead I just let her die. And the worst part is, she looked right at me. I was the last thing she saw before . . .”
A sob escaped his mouth then and he hunched over farther. Despite being half his size, Gilbert bent over, grabbed Brendan’s shirt, and hauled him to his feet with surprising ease.
“Do you know what you need to save your sister?” Gilbert asked.
“Save her?” Brendan asked frantically. “She’s already dead. There’s no way to bring her back . . .”
“There is one way,” Gilbert said.
Brendan looked at him, his eyes red and drained. He shook his head, assuming this was just more of the little alien’s arrogant bluster. Gilbert pointed at his own chest.
“This is where my heart is located,” Gilbert said.
“Yeah, that’s usually where hearts are located,” Brendan said. “You’re not making any sense, Gilbert.”
Gilbert just looked back at him calmly.
And that’s when it all clicked into place for Brendan. Of course! The Wind Witch had hinted that Gilbert was the last Worldkeeper. And Denver’s Journal had indicated that the third Worldkeeper had its own special power. It had the power to reverse time.
“Your heart is the last Worldkeeper,” Brendan said slowly.
“I do not know . . . ,” Gilbert said, the first time he had ever uttered those words. “But I do know that my heart is supremely valuable. Powerful beyond imagination. I have expended my entire life avoiding intergalactic bounty hunters and poachers who tracked me for my heart. Because I have spent my life running, I have never known what it is like to have a home or a family. At least, not until I met you and the supplementary members of the Walker familial unit.”
“Your heart . . . ,” Brendan said, tears already biting at the corners of his eyes. “It can save Cordelia.”
“Affirmative,” Gilbert sa
id, nodding his tiny head. “Whoever possesses my heart can transverse time and correct their most prevalent error.”
Brendan looked down at the bloody battlefield and then back near the wall, where the frost beast had killed Cordelia.
“I don’t think I can do it,” Brendan said. “Even if it means saving Cordelia . . . I don’t think I can kill my friend.”
“Your . . . friend?” Gilbert asked, his voice somewhat shocked, softer than ever. “You regard me . . . with the title friend?”
Brendan smiled sadly and nodded.
“No one has ever labeled me with the title of friend before,” Gilbert said. “Is it because I am so supremely handsome?”
Brendan let out a choked sob and laugh as he nodded and wiped at the tears that were now streaming from his eyes.
“That, and because you’re selfless and loyal,” Brendan said. “Like all great friends are.”
“Then it has to be done,” Gilbert assured him. “This moment was inevitable since the beginning. You require my heart to remedy this.” He motioned at the entirety of the battle around them. “Furthermore, you already possess the only device in existence that can perforate my skin.”
Brendan nodded again, picking up the Invictum at his feet.
“Very well then,” Gilbert said, moving his arms so his small torso was completely exposed. “Proceed. After all, I know now that I am not real. I am only a character in a book, a trifling fragment of Denver Kristoff’s imagination. My entire existence is an invention anyway.”
Brendan held up the Invictum. He pressed the blade to Gilbert’s chest but then hesitated.
“I can’t do it,” he said.
“I will assist,” Gilbert said.
He reached out, grabbed the knife and made a small cut in his torso. He removed a small, bright green organ the size of a golf ball and held it up to Brendan.
Gilbert’s eyes gleamed. He looked at Brendan one last time and smiled as Brendan took the heart in his hand.
“Optimal luck and fortune in your continued efforts, my friend,” Gilbert said.
Then his lifeless body slumped down to the ground as Brendan sobbed.
Brendan forced himself to look away from Gilbert’s lifeless alien body. He reminded himself that if they were somehow successful, he might still be able to save his friend’s life. Denver had said that bringing the Worldkeepers through the Door of Ways would not only seal off the two worlds from each other forever, but that it would undo all the damage caused.
As Brendan stood there, holding Gilbert’s bright green heart, trying to stem the flow of his tears, he suddenly found himself surrounded by swirling purple-and-yellow lights. The bright colors began to spread and dim. They fused together, forming a psychedelic tunnel of light.
At the end of it stood Cordelia. She was alive, but was frightened and cowering, covering her head as if she were about to be attacked. Brendan realized that was precisely what was about to happen. Again.
This was his chance to fix things.
Brendan sprinted down the light tunnel. The frost beast stepped into his view now, hovering over Cordelia, her sword still sticking out of its leg. Cordelia looked up, and again looked into Brendan’s eyes. The frost beast let out a vicious roar and lunged.
Brendan’s stomach churned. He’d waited too long to act and now he was about to blow his only chance to save his older sister. He leaped into the air from a dead sprint, whirling the Invictum over the top of his head. The blade came down onto the back of the frost beast’s skull and its furry white body crumpled to the ground.
“Brendan!” Cordelia said, her eyes wide and her mouth hanging open.
He climbed to his feet, grinning.
“Hey, Deal,” he said, wiping away the last of his tears.
“How did you get over here so fast?” she asked. “I mean, I just saw you way over there, fighting Krom, and I thought for sure I was dead, and . . . and, what are you holding in your hand?” She pointed at Gilbert’s fluorescent-green heart.
Brendan looked at it somberly and frowned.
“It’s the third Worldkeeper,” he said. “I’ll explain later. But from the look of it, our side is still losing badly.”
They both stood there and stared beyond Castle Corroway, where they saw San Francisco in ruins. Many of the skyline’s most iconic buildings were either in shambles, on fire, or completely gone. Thick black smoke intermingled with the once-magical, famous San Francisco fog. Countless police and fire engine sirens tore through the air.
“What are we going to do?” Cordelia asked.
“We have all of the Worldkeepers now,” Brendan said.
“Yeah, but I’m not leaving without Nell,” Cordelia said.
“I’m with you,” Brendan agreed.
They looked up as someone floated down next to them. It was the Storm King, and he looked like he’d seen better days. Blood dripped down his gray and wrinkled face.
“You retrieved the Invictum,” he said. “Well done, Brendan. We will need it to win this battle.”
“We need to save our sister,” Cordelia said. “And then we can take the three Worldkeepers to the Door of Ways and fix this.”
“We’ll never get there,” the Storm King said, shaking his head.
“Why not?” Brendan asked.
“The Wind Witch has an even larger army waiting at the entrance,” the Storm King said. “Even with the Invictum, we won’t be able to break through.”
“So what do we do?” Brendan asked.
“We need to stop the Wind Witch,” the Storm King said. “Right here. Right now. It’s the Wind Witch who is controlling the characters, forcing them to destroy your city. Just like she’s controlling the army at the Door of Ways. But if she is defeated, the characters will disperse on their own, back to their own book worlds, where they belong.”
“So, if we stop her,” Brendan said, “we can end this whole battle and clear a path to the Door of Ways?”
“Exactly,” the Storm King said. “Now, let me take you to where you can do some real damage with the Invictum. Climb onto my back.”
He crouched down. Brendan wrapped his arms around the Storm King’s shoulders tentatively and grimaced, like he’d just been asked to hug a corpse.
“I’m not that disgusting,” the Storm King said.
“If we win this thing, you should think about investing in some deodorant,” Brendan said, trying not to gag. He turned back toward Cordelia as they slowly lifted off the ground. “Stay safe!”
Cordelia nodded at him, watching the Storm King and her brother soar high into the air and then back toward the city.
The Storm King clearly had a plan in mind, so Brendan just held on for dear life as the old man flew right toward Fisherman’s Wharf. There, several UWO robots were in the process of melting all the buildings and boats docked at Pier 39. Fishermen and tourists leaped into the water to avoid the deadly green flames. The Storm King flew directly above one of the giant robots, above the cockpit at the front of their heads. From this vantage point, Brendan saw a tiny purple alien with tentacle arms inside, controlling the UWO’s motions.
“Jump,” the Storm King said.
“What!” Brendan shouted. “Are you insane?”
“I wrote those robots to be virtually indestructible,” he said. “The only thing that can penetrate their armor is the Invictum. Now stop wasting precious time. Jump down there and take control of that thing. You always wanted to be a hero, right? Well, it’s not just going to fall into your lap!”
Brendan looked down at the massive robot. They were still a good ten feet above the cockpit. But he had to do this. If he wanted to save the world, he had to find the courage within himself. It was time to do the right thing when the right thing counted.
Brendan took a deep breath.
And then he jumped.
He landed on the robot’s metal shoulder with a metallic thud. He fell to his knees, twisting his ankle badly. He gasped in pain, but knew he likely had very
little time to lie there and feel sorry for himself. So he rolled to his left and into a crouch.
He stared directly into the cockpit housing the alien pilot. Up close, the thing was even more hideous. It was purple, but not a pretty, vibrant purple. It looked more like someone drank a seven-week-old grape slushie and then puked all over an octopus. Its mouth was filled with terrifying yellow daggers for teeth and its seven tentacle arms slithered through the air like worms.
The alien saw Brendan, screeched, and immediately pulled a lever. The robot raised his claw hand, moving toward Brendan with surprising speed and dexterity. Brendan had nowhere to run—and couldn’t run with a broken ankle even if he had somewhere to go.
Instead he lifted the Invictum.
As the claw was just about to crush him, Brendan rolled to the side and whipped the diamond blade across his body like a backhanded tennis stroke. The Invictum cut through the top pincer of the claw with amazingly little resistance. It folded away and dangled like a hangnail.
Brendan sprang into a hobbling and awkward run. He bit down on his lip to keep from crying out in pain, and in six uneven, bounding steps, he reached the glass cockpit on top of the robot’s shoulders.
He stabbed the Invictum into the glass dome and dragged it in a rough circle. A thick hunk of glass fell away inside the cockpit.
The alien, who had spent his existence assuming that the robot he was controlling was indestructible, was now screaming in shock. The creature’s shrieks were ear-piercingly loud, so awful that Brendan covered his head with his arms. He’d just let his guard down, and the alien could have torn him apart with its tentacles.
But it didn’t. Instead, it sat there shrieking louder and louder as its yellow eyes bulged. Its flailing became even more desperate.
And then it exploded.
Green and purple chunks of alien guts and flesh rained down on Brendan.
The earth’s atmosphere clearly wasn’t suited for the aliens outside of their pressurized cockpit. Brendan clambered inside the ship and sat down in a warm gooey puddle of alien slime and guts.
Clash of the Worlds Page 27