I look from her to the creature and back to Drass. “I don’t believe you,” I say at last. “Why not kill it? Disbelieve it?”
“Because we can’t,” he says, gritting his teeth. “It’s over four thousand years old, reinforced by celestial mechanics and tough as nails.” He holds out his hands—well, hand. “You want to give it a go? Be my guest!”
I look at the woman in the chamber with a wary glance. She smiles and crooks a finger at me in a “come hither” motion. “What is it?” I say at last.
Drass sighs and looks away. “A mistake. Okay, look, Garen thinks you have autonomy, so let’s see how different you really are: I don’t want a fight. Go, run, hide—I give you my word I won’t follow. Yeah, you’re on our list, but you’re not a threat to the world.” He points a shaking finger at the thing that used to be his wife. “That one is.”
I pause, taken aback. This is not the way things are supposed to go. Honestly, here’s where he should be telling me his evil plans. “There’s no possible way I can trust you,” I say, steadying my grip on the gun and artifact.
He shrugs. “No, there’s not. But seriously, between you and this atrocity, which do you think I’d rather set free?”
I roll my eyes. “Neither. But I see your point.”
That gets a tight smile out of him. “Great. So what’s it going to be, little god?” he says, taking a step back and raising his arms. “I’m offering an olive branch here—turn around, march your immortal ass out of my facility, and let me clean up the mess you’ve made.”
I waver for a moment, wondering if there’s even a chance he’s telling the truth. Then the Valkyrie in me screams that it’s a trick, to strike now, destroy him before he can make the first move. She tells me this is my moment, that leaving now wouldn’t just mean abandoning Nantosuelta—what of my glory, my vengeance, my principles?
Nathan also flashes in my mind, telling me I could still walk away. Every step down this path is one further from the happiness and friendship we set out to find. This is just a building, Drass but one monster among many—I may win this battle, may survive it along with my friends, but what of the war? In this moment, I see with heartbreaking clarity the two roads that stretch before me and understand that no matter which I choose, I’m certain to lose something along the way.
The question, then, is simple: Who am I, right now? The beaten-down little girl in a mental hospital who just wanted to be left alone, or a world-changing goddess on the rise? Getting to this moment has been so easy, so thoughtless. At every turn, I held true to my principles, and now I stand surrounded by hate and ruin, risking real friends in the name of mythical beliefs. Is that my future, too?
I abandoned my legacy once. I could do it again.
“You’re right, Drass,” I say in a soft, grateful voice as I realize the truth, realize that I’ve been down this road before. “I have a choice.”
The woman in the chamber cocks her head to the side, looking confused.
“Thank you for helping me see myself for what I truly am,” I say, raising the gun a little a higher. “There will be no deal. Not because of what I can and cannot do, but because of what I want. I choose divinity. I choose the mantle. I choose war.”
He grits his teeth at that and glares, but when he replies, he doesn’t sound furious or frustrated—just disappointed. “It was worth trying,” he says, more to himself.
His features tense, and I’m readying myself for another attack when a clatter from the hallway interrupts us. Garen walks in and flings Sekhmet to the ground. A handful of mercenaries are still with him, all glaring at the Egyptian goddess, who looks like she’s been through the wringer. Smoke rises from singed fur and broken limbs, and her regeneration somehow seems to have been halted. Groaning, she raises her head to take in the corridor. Her golden eyes widen as she focuses on the chamber and its possessed occupant.
“Apep,” she gasps from the floor. I frown, unable to place the name. She obviously recognizes the creature, but I always thought Set, the Egyptian god of deserts, disorder, and violence, was the Big Bad of her pantheon.
The woman in the tank takes a bow. Garen shrugs at that, then moves a little farther into the hall, dragging Sekhmet with him.
“Drass?” he calls. “Where are you hi—oh,” he says, spotting the two of us in the side room. He glares at me, then raises his amulet without saying anything else. It flares green, and I know I only have heartbeats to react. I thrust the platinum cube before me, and will it to activate.
In the split second before it answers my call, I see Drass’s eyes lock onto the cube and take note of the face I’ve picked at random. His mouth forms a soundless NO, and then everything is lost in a monumental crack of lightning. The ceiling splits open as a tremendous wall of electricity descends from the heavens, blasting through the unstable edifice and shearing it in two. We’re both flung backward by the explosion, and to my great dismay I feel the numbing thumps of weakened masonry giving way before my body as I rocket through several walls. Impulse Station lurches, the entire structure veering to one side as thousands of tons of reinforced supports and retaining walls give way. Both halves of the colossal complex sink into the lava pool at its base at awkward angles, and I feel myself roll across a concrete floor as everything is tilted to the side. It’s like I’ve just unzipped the building.
Shaking my head to clear away the brilliant flash, I use the nearest wall for support and lever myself to a standing position. Emergency lighting cuts through the haze of dust, but something else illuminates the disaster area, as well. A dim red glow suffuses everything, seeping up from below. I stagger toward the rift I’ve created, and the building’s new upturned angle lets me catch a glimpse of dark storm clouds gathering beyond the shredded rooftop of its other half. I reach the ragged edge of my side and look down. Perhaps fifty feet away, an enormous pool of molten rock churns, devouring the structure’s foundations. Accelerated by the unnatural change in temperature, sharp winds tear through this artificial valley, carrying away vast clouds of debris and loose paper.
On the other side of this hellish fissure, about thirty feet away, I can make out the mangled bodies of the mercenaries and Sekhmet’s unconscious form perched just beyond the obliterated remains of the hospital corridor. That means Nan, Drass, and the woman in the chamber must be on my side. I look around, trying to find some trace of them. I think I’ve been tossed away at an angle. I’m just on the edge of what looks like a standard utility corridor. Several boring doors are set into the nearby walls.
I catch a glimpse of some movement from the opposite side. I’m about to head closer to see who it is when a hand clamps onto my neck, picks me bodily from the ground, and starts walking me toward the building’s edge.
“Fancy a swim?” Drass grates into my ear.
The drop is barely five feet away, and I can tell he’s about to throw me in before we even reach it.
“Mangalitsa!” I choke out, legs kicking. I don’t have a destination—don’t have time to choose—so the 40 gallons of water materialize right over my head. The miniature deluge engulfs us both, sending us rolling back into the building. It’s no more than what a moderately sized aquarium could hold, but with the slanted floor, it’s enough to knock Drass off his feet. He loses his grip on my neck as we both tumble against the back wall of the utility hallway.
Sputtering in shock, he lunges for me again, but I scamper away, moving deeper into the hallway. There’s a gaping hole in the wall where I burst in, but things are a little more intact here. Doors are set on either side, though I have no idea where any of them lead. My first instinct is to fight back, but I lost my handgun and the cube in the blast, and there’s nothing left in my bag besides the leveler, which would probably do more damage to me at this point. Then I get a look at the plaques set beside the doors and realize they’re not going to help me escape—they’re more of those shortcuts, and I have no idea where they lead.
Drass pushes himself to his feet with his
good arm and staggers toward me. Silhouetted by the glow of the lava pit, he looks terrifying, like a mutilated demon in a business suit. Only he’s not fireproof. The realization makes me wish I had some way of tossing him into the pit, but even if I could tackle him over the side, I’d probably end up going in with him, and that’s a fate I’d dearly like to avoid. I can regenerate, but not that fast. It would take a long time before this place cooled enough for me to re-form, and longer still for them to dig me out.
The man flexes his remaining hand and smiles at me. “Starting to regret that little trick now, aren’t you?” he says as if he’s read my mind. He bends down and picks up a long piece of rebar. “Is that fear I see? Come on. Isn’t this what you chose?”
“Still is,” I spit, eyes darting in search of a weapon.
“Why?” he practically screams, slashing the air with the rebar. I shuffle back a few steps in surprise at the fury in his voice. “If you can deny your dogma, you can be more than every other empty-headed god!” he continues, sounding unhinged. “You could be free! Why embrace what you know will take that from you?”
“Because it’s the right thing to do,” I hiss, backing away another step. “Y’know what, Drass? Forget gods and philosophies and all the crap you tell yourself when you’re trying to fall asleep at night. End of the day, you hunt, cage, and torture a group of people you hate, you bigoted—”
“You’re not PEOPLE!” he yells, flinging himself at me.
I flinch away, stumbling in the tangle of concrete and ceiling tiles at my feet. There’s a whoosh as the rebar zips past my left ear, and then the building shifts again, sending a small avalanche of debris tumbling between us. A cloud of dust billows around me, shot through by the terrible blush of the lava like it’s a dying sunset. I regain my footing, hoping he’s been caught in the downpour, but as I straighten up, my heart sinks. Rebar twitching in his only hand, Drass emerges from the haze, sidestepping the small mound of rubble and planting himself in front of me.
“I’m sorry,” he says, gesturing with his stump. “You were saying?”
I give him a bitter laugh. “Yeah. I’m the single-minded one. If fighting you means following my birthright, then cool. The world is not a better place without Freya, but it will be one without you.”
“What a waste,” he says, voice dripping with contempt. “Brave enough to face me, but not your own flaws. You’re a coward, Sara Vanadi, and unworthy of your gifts.”
He steps forward and beckons to me. Another gust of wind streams through the canyon, peeling the dust away to reveal the bubbling lake of fire, rising still. Drass tilts his head at it and lifts his eyebrows, telling me where I’m headed. Heart pounding, I edge back another foot. I can’t best him in a physical contest, and we’re about five seconds from one. There must be a way of taking him down, but he’s layered in enchantments and dark magic and every instinct is telling me I should have listened to Samantha and just run for it, no matter what plans of mine hinged on his death. He raises the rebar over his head, and the time to decide on a course of action is suddenly gone. I ready myself for his attack, hoping I can hit him somewhere it hurts, like the eyes, before he bludgeons me into unconsciousness and tosses me into the molten lake.
Then an odd tremor runs through my mind, and in the same instant, flames mushroom around his head, blazing up from nowhere to form a localized sphere of fire. It’s gone in a split second, but it is enough to set his hair ablaze and stun him. He lunges forward, but he’s swinging blind, and I’m able to sidestep the blow and shove him to the ground with one kick to the back. In the distance, across the canyon, I hear Nathan whoop. “Yes! Sara, I got him!” he yells.
I’m elated, but it’ll all be for nothing if I can’t use this to my advantage. Drass is already picking his way to his feet, so I’m going to need to act fast. I have no weapons, and even if I could muscle him in, the lava is still too far to reach. I can’t make a thirty-foot leap, either, and my only escape route is down ruined hallways he knows better than I do, or through teleportation doors that aren’t going to lead anywhere useful. If I knew they could get me to the other building, that would be great, but as far as I can tell, they all go to the sublevels, and those are currently filled with—
A brilliant smile lights my face as I realize there’s a solution I haven’t yet considered: If I can’t take Drass to the lava, then I need to bring the lava to him.
As all this runs through my head, the man staggers upright and spins around, soot-streaked features contorted with rage. He roars and charges me without another word, long past the point of banter. Even though the corridor’s tilted at an awkward angle, he manages to move terrifyingly fast, and we’re about to collide when I jump up, grab the handle on the door to my left, and haul it open. The door is hinged so it swings toward me, and thank the gods for that.
An enormous column of liquid rock and metal pours out of the opening, engulfing Drass and splashing into the corridor as the magic in the portal connects this door to a preset location somewhere deep inside that volcanic lake. Flecks of burning magma spatter my skin and clothing and I scream as it burns me, but it’s nothing compared with what’s happening to Drass. He’s completely coated in the flow, a man-sized lump of glowing rock thrashing around in an unending cascade of molten ooze. I run for it, scampering up the incline to the edge of the divide as the stream eats through the wall below it and sinks down into the building, taking the remains of Finemdi’s CEO along for the ride.
“Sara! Sara, are you okay?” Nathan calls out from across the fiery chasm.
“Did you see that?” I yell, overjoyed.
He shakes his head. “Was too far in! What happened? Did you get him?”
“Hell yes, I got him!” I reply. “We did it!”
He cheers, throwing a fist in the air. I’m about to join with some victory shouts of my own when something moves in the ruins behind him. I stiffen in shock as Garen walks out of the shadows, bruised and bloodied, an assault rifle in one hand and the glowing amulet in the other. He points his gun at Nathan’s back and calls out to me. “I’ll make you a deal, princess!” he yells, his voice hoarse. Nathan whirls at the sound, turning to face the man. “Throw yourself into the lake, and I’ll let him live!”
“Nate!” I cry, furious at my inability to reach either of them.
My friend puts his hands up. “Please don’t shoot,” Nathan says.
Garen rolls his eyes. “Shut up,” he mutters. “Well? What’s it going to be?” he yells in a louder voice. “Lava bath, or one dead mortal? I know you care about him.”
“And I’m supposed to trust you?” I scream back.
He laughs. “Why would I care if he lives?”
“I have no way of knowing that’s true,” I reply. “And hasn’t he seen too much? Wouldn’t Finemdi make you kill him anyway?”
“Thanks, Sara, that’s really helping,” Nathan says, sounding very worried.
Even across the burning crevasse, I can make out Garen’s oily smirk. “This is a trade I’d be more than happy to make! And you know what? Right now, I think Finemdi might have more important things to worry about than whether a lowly mortal escaped. Just a thought.”
I sigh, shaking my head. I’m trapped. There’s no way I’m throwing myself in, but I can’t see an alternative that will save Nathan, either. Maybe I can aim for the edge of the pool and pull myself out when he’s not looking? I glance down, watching as clouds of caustic gases dance on the surface of the lava. Those might hide my landing.…
“Enough,” a soft, quavering voice calls out from my left, carrying over the divide. Garen’s eyes go wide as he spots the source, and the muzzle of his weapon dips. I tip out, looking around a flapping piece of insulation, and see what’s gotten his attention. Nantosuelta is standing on a broken spar of concrete not ten feet away, leaning heavily on her IV pole. Her platform juts out above the canyon like a broken bridge, and it looks like it’s taking all her strength just to remain upright. Even as I watch, her w
izened feet slide ever so slightly in the loose scree of crumbled rocks scattered atop the concrete.
“Mother, please, you must—” Garen begins.
“Stop,” she says, silencing him with a glare. “Let the boy go, Garen.”
“I—but I can’t just—” he stammers, looking pained.
“This is over,” she says, struggling to hold on to the metal pole beside her. “If you can’t release your hate for my kind, then at least concede the battle for this day. It’s done.”
“But—”
“Drop your weapons,” she hisses, the malevolence in her tone surprising me. “If you ever loved me, you’ll do this favor, Garen.”
“I—Mother, it’s not…” He trails off and hangs his head. He gives it a little shake, and then his chest heaves in a sigh. “Another day,” he mumbles after a moment. Then he tosses the amulet and gun away from him, out into the divide. They land with distant plops, vanishing beneath the molten flow. He looks up at me, glaring. “Another day,” he says louder, and I know it’s a promise.
Nathan backs away, skirting around the edge of the building and putting a little distance between Garen and himself. Nantosuelta nods. “Good boy,” she says, utterly exhausted. It seems even this short exchange has drained her of whatever strength she had left. “The only one. You were the only one, Garen. I’ll always love you for that.”
“Mother…” Garen says, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “I know it’s hard, but please, I can help—”
“You have. You’ve helped me so much,” Nan says, smiling. “But I’m not strong enough. I’m so very, very tired, Garen.”
“Please…” His voice cracks, and he sinks to his knees.
“Don’t be sad, my boy,” she says. “I’m free. Remember that. Remember me like that. Free.”
Then she lets go of the pole and leans forward. She clips the edge of the concrete and topples over, spinning once before she hits the lava. I see her hospital gown catch fire, and then the liquid closes over her frail body, burying her forever. Just like that, she’s gone. I pull back from the edge, feeling an odd mix of shock and relief.
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