by Meg Xuemei X
The Eye of Time must be hunting Ashburn!
What if it harms him? Can I afford to lose the covenant key holder? Lucienne moved her hand toward the pin, about to cage the Eye, but halted. I can’t quit when I’ve just begun. “Only the necessary matters.” Jed had burned that motto in her head. I’ll wait a little longer and see what’s going to happen. If he was meant to be the one, he’d survive. Just like Jed had allowed her to experience jeopardy. “If you’re meant to be the Siren, you’ll live through it.”
Dragonfly’s camera gave Ashburn a close up. Pain twisted his beautiful face. His hand clutched his head; his other hand desperately fended off something invisible. Then, for a brief moment, the motorcycle stopped falling and hovered in a valley between the mountains.
Ashburn is fighting back! A light danced in Lucienne’s eyes.
Ashburn let out a cry of pain, and his ride began to descend again. He’ll crash! Lucienne pushed in the pin, and the Twilight Water sucked the Eye back into its vacuum. It was too late. Ashburn’s machine and its semi-conscious rider plunged toward the shadowy canyon.
Lucienne felt a stab of heartache.
“Send Cam from Hell Gate to the mountains,” she ordered Ziyi. “Have him bring the medic with him.” Then she turned to Orlando. “Take BL7 and bring Ashburn Fury to Sphinxes. Take the medic team with you.”
“Yes, Lucia,” Orlando said, already half-way out the door.
“I can go,” Vladimir offered.
“No, you stay,” Lucienne said.
Vladimir shot her a look of frustration. Lucienne met his stare, when suddenly several voices in the lab shouted, “A third man!”
Lucienne snapped her attention back to the screen.
A bare-chested man in white sweatpants moved at superhuman speed toward a falling Ashburn and his motorcycle. The man appeared to be over seven feet tall. The build of his body looked like a god. He leapt from the mountain and caught Ashburn twenty feet above the ground, just before impact. They were thrown downward toward the valley.
The machine crashed first, ramming into the slope of the gorge, sending rocks and twigs catapulting into the air. The giant man and Ashburn collided onto the ground next to it, with Ashburn landing on top of the man. They rolled after it toward the base of the valley as the machine plunged onto a large rock, a ray of light shooting from it.
The mysterious man veered away from the rock. When he passed it, he grabbed its edge, stopping their fall.
“Ziyi,” Lucienne said, “radio Orlando to abort the mission.”
Vladimir narrowed his eyes. “That dude certainly isn’t a native.”
“We can’t afford to let anyone outside Sphinxes find out about Nirvana and Ashburn,” said Lucienne.
“Run facial recognition, Ziyi,” Vladimir ordered.
“Already running,” Ziyi said. “You know I’m always one step ahead.”
A beta computer flashed data and images of headshots. A few minutes later, a message appeared on the screen: No record.
“He isn’t in the system,” Vladimir said, his face hardening. “He’s a new threat.”
Lucienne watched Ashburn break free from the bare-chested man. Still dazed, the Fury boy sat on the slope, his breathing labored. “What are you doing here?” he asked the man.
The man wasn’t a native, yet Ashburn seemed to know him. Lucienne studied them closely.
“What I came here to do,” the man said. “Protect you.”
“I don’t need your protection.” Ashburn struggled up. “Stay away from me!”
He wants everyone to stay away from him, Lucienne thought wryly.
“We’d better get back to the Rabbit Hole,” the man said. “Only inside it, will you be safe.”
Rabbit Hole? Lucienne narrowed her eyes. Then she heard a whisper inside her head, Siren, let me out. The voice was neither human nor machine. A chill climbed up her spine. She darted her eyes around until they fixed upon the open locket—the silvery eye amid the Twilight Water. The bloody red hue had faded.
Was it using telepathy with her, even in its cage? There’s only one way to find out. Lucienne considered the Eye of Time for a few seconds, then turned to the screen to watch Ashburn stumble toward his motorcycle, followed by the giant. No, she wouldn’t let them walk away just like that. Now that Ashburn had landed safely, she wanted to know what else the Eye wanted from him.
Siren, let me out, the Eye of Time called again.
Lucienne released the Eye.
It came alive instantly. As Lucienne heard its satisfied breath of fresh air, the chill and thrill brought bumps to her skin. Atop the sensor, the Eye pulsed, blazing brightly. The sensor responded with rapid flashes, and the quantum computer hummed. Then mysterious writing appeared on the monitor.
“Copy them down,” Lucienne ordered a technician and looked at the main monitor. On it, Ashburn swayed like a drunkard before collapsing against the slope.
The giant man caught the boy.
“The Eye of Time!” Ashburn hissed. His veins throbbed violently on his temples. He clutched his head in pain. “Leave me alone!” he cried. “I’ll give you back your data. I’m not who you think I am. Listen. Listen! I’m not the bloodline of the Exiles. My double helix isn’t superior. It’s actually inferior. Just let me go! You have the wrong kid. Agghhh!”
This time, instead of turning red, the Eye’s lens grew darker. The numbers and symbols on the lens tangled like messy threads.
“It has connected to the TimeDust—the program in you,” the giant man said, picking up Ashburn and hoisting the boy onto his shoulders. “Resist it, Ashburn!”
“Suddenly you’re the expert at resisting it!” Ashburn said, then screamed into the ether, “Stop, you crazy Eye! I’m not your dumpster. My brain can’t take any more of your garbage. Agghhh!”
Lucienne watched Ashburn’s body flail and bend like a bow at its breaking point, his legs kicking against the firm grip of his protector. Finally, Ashburn stopped begging, but resorted to screaming like a pig in a slaughterhouse.
Lucienne smashed the pin into the locket and shut the charm. She hadn’t realized until now that tears had been streaming down her face. She was ashamed at her cruelty, and at the same time surprised that she wasn’t capable of being more callous than she thought she could be.
Righting the motorcycle—surprisingly intact after the crash—the man put Ashburn down on its back, held its handles, and climbed behind the boy. The machine roared to life and soared into the sky.
Within seconds, it had reached the Ghost House.
Ashburn lost the ability to block the satellite, so Dragonfly followed the motorcycle as it dashed into the house. As soon as Ashburn flew in, the door shut automatically. On the screen, it showed only one infrared form moving inside the arena. Lucienne widened her eyes. Was Ashburn’s protector a machine, not emitting heat, like his motorcycle? The single infrared form stopped at the center of the Ghost House, then, suddenly, vanished. Lucienne and her crew knew they had found Ashburn’s final fortress—the dead zone they had been looking for.
“Analyze the data you collected,” Lucienne told her team. “Ziyi, have you cracked the code to the Ghost House?”
“I have a few combinations for you to use,” Ziyi said.
“Good,” Lucienne said, heading out of the lab.
Vladimir followed her out. “I’m going with you.”
“I’m bringing only a physician with me. I’ll be back in no time.”
“If you feel it’s not convenient for me to go with you, at least take Kian.”
“Kian is heading for the Red Mansion,” Lucienne said, gazing up at Vladimir. “If you’re so worried, I’ll take Orlando.”
“And Duncan, too.”
“Fine, if you’ll behave here.”
“I’ll behave. I always do.”
“No more using anyone as a punching bag.”
“I’ll break no noses, that much I can promise,” he said, reaching out and tracing his callused thumb a
cross Lucienne’s cheek.
Lucienne swallowed, feeling her evening gown shivering against her skin. Vladimir’s touch always had that effect on her. She fought her desperate need to throw her arms around his neck. She had to go now and once again leave him behind.
“And when you come back, I’ll cook dinner at my place,” Vladimir said. “I’ll make sure there are no surprises.”
CHAPTER 19
Lucienne punched the first code onto the keypad in the door of the Ghost House. Faint electricity stunned her. Without missing a beat, she hit a second combination.
A whooshing sound, then the massive metal door glided open from the middle.
Carrying a small suitcase, Lucienne stepped toward the Ghost House. Orlando led the way and Duncan flanked the rear, but Lucienne stopped them both. “Wait outside,” she said. “I’ll bring only Dr. Wren with me.”
“Lucia,” Orlando started to protest.
“I won’t bring a soldier with me,” Lucienne said. “I need to do this as a peace gesture. I hurt the boy, and he knew it was me.” Over Orlando’s unhappy look, she coaxed, “I’ll be safe. I took down an assassin when I was eight, didn’t I? Are you going to question my skills now?”
Grunting disapprovingly, Orlando took Duncan’s radio and handed it to Dr. Wren. “Doctor, press the button if you see so much as a cockroach.” He then withdrew and positioned himself next to Duncan at the door, weapons drawn.
Lucienne continued on. Dr. Wren, carrying his medical bag, followed her gingerly.
Inside, the Ghost House was like an arena with arched cathedral ceilings. Lucienne took in the complex structure and its sophisticated machinery. She walked down a long aisle cluttered with pieces of discarded machines. So, this is what Ashburn claimed was his playground. She opted not to check out the odd hardware, instead going straight toward the dead zone in the center of the arena, her hand on the pistol under her white jacket. She had changed from her evening gown into a leather suit and a crimson scarf.
She was glad Dr. Wren wasn’t in a chatty mood for once. Her mind was still occupied with what Ashburn had revealed earlier. “I’m not the bloodline of the Exiles. My double helix isn’t superior!”
Who were the Exiles? There was no record about the race in any mythology. Was it possible that a third power had joined the game—or, perhaps even initiated the game?
That was a puzzle she couldn’t solve at the moment. But first things first—she would need a sample of Ashburn’s DNA. Dr. Wren had orders to get it for her when he examined Ashburn.
As Lucienne marched toward the center of the arena, a dot on her Eidolon indicated the zone drawing nearer. She turned left on a corridor lined by yet more machine junk. As she made the next left turn, her Eidolon went off- line.
That didn’t stop Lucienne. Having memorized the route Ashburn’s motorcycle took, Lucienne first turned right, then right again, then left, until she was blocked by a magnificent pillar. It was seven feet wide, stretching from ceiling to floor. It seemed to be made of ice, but when Lucienne touched it, it didn’t feel cold. Extricating her archaeological scanner from her expedition gear, she scanned the column.
“Material unknown,” the scanner read.
“Where’s the patient?” Dr. Wren asked, looking around.
Lucienne walked around the pillar and spotted a double-crescent moon carved in one side of the wall. Between the two moons was a perfect female face with silver eyes and silver hair. She looked human, except that she had pointed ears and a map of a star system Lucienne had never seen on her broad forehead.
“I believe the patient is inside the wall,” Lucienne said.
Dr. Wren blinked. “Would you mind calling him out? It seems unwise for us to try to get in, if that’s even possible.”
Lucienne pressed her thumb on the eye, but there was no response.
“Ashburn,” she called. “It’s Lucienne. I need to see you.”
No answer.
“Ashburn?” Lucienne put her scanner back in her gear bag, took out a laser gun, and fired at the pillar. Not even a puff of dust came from the lock.
“Isn’t that the laser the Blazek boy said would cut anything?” Dr. Wren asked.
“It didn’t cut into this thing!” Lucienne stared at the lock. Then an idea came to her. Her Siren’s mark opened the crypt in Tibet. Maybe it could open the pillar, too. “Dr. Wren, please turn your back to me.”
The doctor obeyed without question.
Lucienne bent backward, pressing the Siren’s mark against the cold lock. When she didn’t feel a connection, she rose, pulled her pistol from the broad belt of her pants and, in frustration, shot the lock. It didn’t budge. Only Dr. Wren jumped and turned to see what was happening.
A loud hiss of air. Then, in front of their eyes, the lock transformed into a liquid interface and rose to the top of the pillar. A half transparent door moved aside.
Ashburn’s protector, with his nude torso and loose white sweatpants, appeared at the entryway of the open pillar. A soft glow from inside outlined him like one of the sculptured Greek gods with glowing bronze eyes. Only this god had long, greasy hair. “That’s not the way to break in, Lucienne Niahm Lam, descendent of one of the oldest bloodlines on Earth,” he said. “All you need is to ask and knock. Ashburn would never deny you.”
Lucienne’s face went white. No one knew her middle name. Not even Jed Lam. The name was given to her by the Siren’s mark in the ritual. Niamh—mythical princess of the land of promise—was the mother of the first Siren. And that was the name she used when communicating with her mark. How did this man know her best-kept secret? A chilly revulsion surged through Lucienne, sinking into the marrow of her bones. Her eyes grew murderously cold.
Dr. Wren widened his eyes. “This is the patient?” He shuddered. “He looks as good as he can get. Are you sure he needs a physical?”
Lucienne sharpened her sense and delved into the cryptic man’s mind. Her brown eyes went wild. The man’s consciousness was a black hole that swallowed light. Lucienne shivered and withdrew.
“Do I make you nervous, Siren?” the man asked, studying her.
“Do you take pleasure in making me nervous?” she asked back. An unsettling feeling warned her to walk away, but she wouldn’t leave without seeing Ashburn.
The man chuckled. “I take no pleasure in making a lady uncomfortable. I’ve heard so much about you. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”
Lucienne dropped the pleasantries. “Who are you?” she asked.
“Why don’t you come to the Rabbit Hole and find out who I am? Allow me to be a good host,” the man said.
“That’s a bad idea, Lucia,” the doctor murmured beside her.
Lucienne remembered when Ashburn fell, his protector persuaded him to enter the Rabbit Hole. Ashburn must be inside. “The term ‘Rabbit Hole’ refers to a portal into a different world,” Lucienne said, “like in Alice in Wonderland.”
“It also means ‘boundless in the extremities of time, immeasurable in its capacity, perpetual in its own right.’” the man said.
Who is this man? “Thank you for the invitation, but I came for Ashburn. Where is he?” Lucienne asked, putting her handgun back under her jacket while keeping a keen eye on her opponent. “I’ve brought my family doctor to help him if he’s hurt.”
“He’s resting down the Rabbit Hole.” He indicated down with his chin. “You’ve done him great damage, Lucienne Lam, using the Eye of Time to hunt him. Fortunately, we have this place—a sanctuary that nothing and no one can enter without an invitation.”
That was why the Dragonfly couldn’t spot it, Lucienne thought drily.
“You can’t just assume it was me who hurt him,” said Lucienne. “When he fell, I was nowhere near him. You, however, were around. And he seemed to be afraid of you.”
“I have no patience for games. You should leave then,” the man muttered a command, and the door moved back. Instinctively, Lucienne leapt and landed inside the pillar just before
the door whooshed shut.
“Lucia, no!” Dr. Wren called after her, his panicked voice lost to the blackness.
Under her feet, the ground suddenly sank. Lucienne stumbled and fell at high speed. She muffled a scream as she heard the man’s chuckle.
A faint glow emerged overhead. With her heart still throbbing in her throat, Lucienne looked up. There were neither walls nor ceiling, just a void encompassing her. The light came from the floating liquid interface. Under the pale lighting, Lucienne saw the giant man towering at her right side. Her body tensed, an animal instinct on full alert inside her. She stepped left, putting distance between them.
No assault came. Lucienne relaxed a little, until she looked down. There was no ground beneath her feet. And yet, this nothingness was solid enough to support her.
“How deep is this Rabbit Hole?” she asked in awe.
The descent stopped abruptly.
“We’ve arrived,” announced the man.
“But there’s no ground,” said Lucienne.
“You just can’t see it.” The giant reached to grab Lucienne’s wrist. She was taken aback, but her surprise didn’t affect her reflexes. She chopped down his hand before it could touch her. Also amazingly fast, the man stepped back, holding his hands in the air in a gesture of surrender. “My apologies, Siren. I was trying to help you off the platform.” Chortling, he stepped off the invisible elevator and walked around in endless space.
Holding her breath, Lucienne stepped forward. It felt as if she descended a staircase that wasn’t there. She moved forward, and the hollowness extended. Her eyes couldn’t see ground, yet she stood on it. The place was dark like space, yet she could see the giant standing several feet away, watching her. The laws of physics were at odds with her perception of reality in this realm.
“No signal can reach here, and nothing goes out,” he said. “Here, Ashburn can have the golden silence in his head. Only here is he not subjected to billions of strangers’ memories. This is his escape. The Rabbit Hole was built for him a million years ago.”
“Before he was born?” Lucienne raised an eyebrow in skepticism.