Moments later, when the flames had receded and the smoke had thinned, Diana stood behind the altar, holding out her hands, indicating the bones and embers below. “As you can see, there is no going back. This is my body now.” She raised her arms to the sky. “And this is my realm.”
Mara screamed, slammed her fists against the barrier. It thrummed, resisted. She took two steps back, splayed her hands before her. Two arcs of lightning shot from her palms and danced along the edge of the bubble. A static crackling filled the air as sparks flew back. The bubble flickered, shimmered. Smoke and the smell of burning flesh seeped through. She gagged but continued.
The bubble flickered for a second.
“You cannot bring down the passage,” Diana said. With both hands, she lifted the Chronicle from the altar and gazed skyward. She chanted.
The blue static coalesced and stabilized. Mara placed both hands on the barrier and screamed, “Come down!” Bolts radiated from her hands along the circumference of the bubble. It sputtered and crackled. Electrical snaps cluttered the air and a cloud of smoke filled with the smell of death enveloped her. The bubble winked away with a loud crack.
A shriek of agony rang out of the darkness from under the arch. It faded into a guttural groan.
Diana’s head snapped toward the noise behind her.
Two of the robed figures stepped forward, placing themselves between Mara and the altar.
She could now see under their hoods. They had the faces of lizards, gray and scaly, like Suter.
“No, I’ll deal with her,” Diana said. She pointed to the obelisk on Mara’s right. A bolt of lightning shot out of its tip, striking the center of Mara’s chest, throwing her out of the roadway into the writhing pedestrian walk on the side of the bridge.
CHAPTER 66
MARA FORGOT THE tingling running through her arms and legs as soon as she shook off the shock enough to realize the ground rippled beneath her back. She jumped up and kicked anything that moved. She staggered into the road, wobbled for a moment and looked up as Diana set the Chronicle on the altar. The blue translucence shimmered in the air ahead. The bubble was back and so was the black passage below the arch.
“There will be consequences to what you do here, Mara—and not just for you. Your interference could prove costly to others,” Diana said.
Her lips peeled back into a broad smile as she lifted a dagger with her right hand and plunged it into her own left shoulder. She retracted the blade, waved it above the altar, dripping threads of blood onto it.
Mara gasped, leaned toward the barrier in front of her. “Don’t hurt her.”
“You misunderstand. It is not me that you should be worried about.” Diana lifted the Chronicle from the altar and turned to her right. “It is time for us to consecrate this realm for our future. Bring out the boy.”
Two robed men—now with their bald, scaly heads exposed—broke ranks from those standing between the obelisks and walked to the bridge’s darkened arch. They melted into the swirling blackness. Moments later, they emerged carrying someone by the elbows between them. A third man followed, carrying something across his arms.
When they got closer, Mara recognized Sam. Heavy ropes bound his wrists and ankles. He hung limply between the two men as they carried him to the altar. They paused for a second as Diana lifted the Chronicle, which movement flung Sam onto the slab of stone.
Holding the Chronicle above Sam’s body, she turned to the third man, who Mara could now see carried a large serpent. He stepped forward, and the serpent lifted its head toward Diana. She leaned down and kissed its head. The snake slid over her right shoulder, wrapped itself around the back of her neck, hanging its head over her left shoulder, where its tongue flicked at her open wound. With purchase gained on Diana’s body, the serpent lifted its tail from the man and wrapped itself around her waist. Its head bobbed next to her cheek, intermittently nuzzling her neck.
Her eyes rolled into the back of her head. She raised her face skyward and began to chant. Mara didn’t recognize the words. The robed figures joined in. Diana waved the Chronicle in circles above Sam’s body while moving around the altar in a slinking, slithering dance.
One of his hands twitched.
As Diana swayed over his body, the snake turned its attention to Sam, flicking its tongue at him. The chanting grew louder, more urgent. The dancing quickened. The serpent undulated to its rhythms. It grew more aggressive, baring its fangs, hissing, getting closer with each joust of its head.
Diana twisted her body sideways, leaning across Sam, twisting her torso to the beat of the chants, waving her arms in sync. The serpent slid onto the altar, moved up Sam’s torso, creeping toward his head.
His hand moved again, his fingernails dug into the stone top of the altar.
Mara raised her hands to the bubble as the snake slid over Sam’s neck, reared its head high into the air, preparing to strike. It froze midair, stared down into the boy’s eyes, which were now open.
Sam rolled his head toward the front of the altar. The snake arched that way. Sam rolled his head back. The snake followed. Sam nodded. The snake bobbed its head in sync.
Diana continued to circle the altar, swaying to her chant, holding her head high, lost in the rhythms.
Sam stared into the eyes of the snake, pulled back his lips and bared his teeth. Still locked onto his eyes, the serpent stared back, swayed in the air and showed its fangs, flicked its tongue. Sam snapped his jaws closed.
“He’s prompting the snake,” Mara whispered.
The snake twisted and lunged at Diana.
It sank its fangs into her forearm. She screamed and swung her arm back, ripping the serpent off Sam’s torso.
Holding tight with its jaws, it coiled around Diana’s waist, visibly baring down, constricting her body. Though she staggered backward, she continued to stand her ground and wrestle the serpent with one hand while holding the Chronicle aloft in the other. Though Diana had stopped chanting, the robed lizard men droned on as she struggled.
Sam kicked his bound feet into the air, knocking the medallion out of her hands. It tumbled into the air and landed face up with a solid clank three feet in front of Mara, still within the static wall of blue light.
The bubble flickered, sputtered. Mara raised her palms and sent bolts of lightning into it, trying to keep her eye on the Chronicle through sparks and flashes that flew back at her.
The blackness under the arch exploded. Flames raced up the concrete arches and along the balustrades, setting the bridge ablaze. The outer layers of the bridge’s superstructure began to melt, drip down onto the roadway. The sputtering bubble filled with smoke. Caustic fumes escaped, burning Mara’s nose. It encouraged her to keep going. She backed up, raised her hands higher and threw more jagged bolts of lightning into the barrier.
The bubble sputtered, expanded suddenly and disappeared. Smoke and dust, once contained, now billowed out, blending with the thin mist that shrouded the bridge.
Mara jumped forward and bent toward the Chronicle. When she reached for it, her hand flickered and passed through it. She looked down at herself, her whole body blurred like an old black-and-white television that couldn’t hold a signal. She held up her hand. After a second, it solidified. She picked up the Chronicle.
Diana grabbed the snake just behind its head with her left hand, pried it off her other arm, then took its tail and unwound it from her body. She set it down on the pavement and turned to the altar. She pointed to one of the obelisks. Lightning shot down, striking the altar just after Sam rolled off, falling to the pavement. The altar exploded sending shrapnel into the air, splitting it in two. A cloud of dust and debris engulfed Diana.
Mara ran to Sam, waved her hand over his ropes. They fell away in a sprinkle of pixels.
“You all right?” she said.
“I’ve been better. Come on,” Sam said, reaching for her. His hand passed through her arm. Sam’s eyes widened. “You’re flickering again. We have to get out of here.”
“I won’t go without my mother.”
“Mara, your mother is gone. We’ve got the Chronicle. Let’s get out of here before you fade away permanently. We’ll deal with Diana later. Let’s get back to Ping. He’ll know what to do.”
“Ping is dead.”
Sam went pale.
“We’ve got to do this ourselves, and we’ve got to do it now.”
She turned back to the rubble of the altar. Beyond it, flames continued to dance along the arches overlooking the roadway, but the blackness below was gone. Mara could see through to the dark horizon beyond the bridge. Smoke and dust hung in the fog, illuminated by the slowing thrums of light emitted by the obelisks. Diana’s snake slithered along the pavement, hugging the base of the fractured altar. It raised its head, flicked its tongue into the air and passed through the charred remains of the cremated body, pushing the rib cage aside as it continued on to join the writhing mass that covered the pedestrian walkway on the left side of the bridge.
Diana stepped through the dust onto the riser behind the altar. She extended her arm, pointing to another of the glowing obelisks. A bolt of lightning struck Sam in the chest, throwing him across the walkway into the solid balustrade. He crumpled to the walkway and laid still. Blood pooled next to his head. Snakes closed in around him.
“Give me the Chronicle, and I might let you live. If you don’t, you’ll end up like him,” Diana said. The glow from the obelisks intensified.
“Release my mother, and you can have the Chronicle. You can find some other place to live,” Mara said.
“That is not possible. I now belong to this realm, to this body.”
“No. There must be another way.”
“Give it to me or die,” Diana said, raising both arms into the air.
Lightning shot down from the two obelisks behind Mara, striking her in the back, throwing her across the width of the bridge. Landing on the balustrade above where Sam lay, she teetered on the edge, her torso hanging out over the river, her legs over the walkway. Dazed, it took her a minute to get her bearings. She levered herself back toward the pavement, clawing at the cement railing. She sat up and turned around to see Diana picking up the Chronicle from the pavement. When she straightened, she raised her arms again to the obelisks. Bolts of lightning sliced through the night and struck Mara in the face.
She fell into the darkness.…
After three feet, she landed on a wide pipe, mounted on the side of the bridge, hanging over the open water. She wrapped her arms and legs around it, preventing momentum from rolling her into the open air above the river. Though she faced the dark base of the bridge as she hugged the pipe, a cool breeze told her that nothing stood between her and the current below.
She froze.
Something slithered around her leg, slid across her back.
She looked down her side and saw the sheen of wet scales slide over her lower body. A mass of serpents inched up her legs toward her waist.
She kicked at them.
One tightened its grip on her leg as she tried to pull away. Her body began to slide, rotate onto the outside of the pipe. Gravity pulled on her, threatened to swing her to the underside of the pipe.
She scooted back on top. The snakes continued to advance.
Something landed on her back.
A cackle rang painfully in her ear, something wet flicked at it. She hunched her shoulders, tried to shake it off. Inching sideways, she rotated her body toward the bridge. Once she felt secure, she reached over her head and grabbed the creature’s leg.
It dug its claws into her shirt, flailed in the air and refused to let go, cackling the whole time.
She yanked harder, straining to pull it loose.
It bit her thumb, muffling its laughter while its mouth was full.
She jerked back but willed herself to maintain the grip. Gave it one more yank and pulled it free.
She flung it into the night. Its fading cackle ended with a distant splash.
She had almost forgotten about the snakes. She kicked at them and decided, if she stayed out on the pipe, she would be overwhelmed. Reaching up to the outside of the bridge’s balustrade without looking up, she felt her way to a fixture. Grabbing it, she pulled herself into a crouch on top of the pipe while leaning into the bridge. She had to be careful not to slip on the creatures that wound around the pipe and continued to crawl over her legs. She pulled a small snake off her waist and flung it into the dark. Another slid into its place, trying to slither up her chest. She lost patience, waved a palm at them. They exploded in a burst of pixels glittering in the glow of the obelisks.
She wiped hair from her face, grabbed the outer edge of the balustrade and stood up on the pipe. She could see onto the bridge. It looked like a war zone.
Ashes wafted along the pavement, some accumulating against Sam’s pants leg. He remained still, but his chest rose and fell. His head rested against the curb below the passenger walkway, a pool of blood drying next to him. Snakes slid across his legs and torso but seemed disinterested, just a bump in the road. Holding the Chronicle above her head, Diana stood in front of the shattered altar, concentrating, chanting. The obelisks strobed more brightly, more rapidly, but there was no sign of the blue bubble. Reptiles of every type skittered across the pavement and walkways. The robed men were gone. Mara glanced back at the burning arches. Still no dark passage beneath.
She climbed onto the balustrade, knowing she would be exposed, but determined to get a safer perch than a pipe hanging over the river.
“This is not over,” Diana said, turning toward her.
“You’re right. It won’t be over until I have my mother back,” Mara said, standing on the balustrade looking down on the roadway.
Diana hissed. She jutted her head forward, extending it an unnatural distance toward Mara. Her mouth gaped so wide, her jaw popped as its joints separated, distorting her features into something not human, not Mara’s mother. Her tongue slid across her lower lip and flicked into the air. Her yellow eyes fluoresced and rolled up, leaving black coals shining from the sockets. She spewed a river of fire.
The flames struck Mara in the chest, throwing her beyond the pipe on the side of the bridge, into the open air above the river.
CHAPTER 67
THE BRIDGE RECEDED into the fog as Mara plummeted backward into darkness. She strained to scream, but the blast had knocked the wind from her. Her hair whipped across her face, her shirt flapped against her neck as she cut through the air, plunging toward the river.
She squeezed her eyes closed. She just needed more time. More time to learn, more time to help, more time to fight.
More time.
Her arms stiffened, braced in the air.
She stopped falling.
She opened her eyes. Suspended in the air, prone, more than forty feet below the dark underbelly of the bridge, she waved her arms around, trying to grab something. There was nothing within reach.
She remembered to breathe. She gasped in air, choked and coughed. After inhaling, she cleared her eyes and stared upward into the night.
A hazy shroud of smoke and fog glowed around the span above. She felt as if she was staring up from the bottom of a pit. A twinge of vertigo constricted her throat. Looking downward, past her hip, she saw something glint in the night. She bent forward, extending her hand, submerged it in water. She snapped back her hand, wiped it on her jeans.
She shivered. The river’s current ran inches below her.
Her eyes widened. Her breathing labored.
She looked around for something to grab, something to do.
A strong draft blew down on her, and she panicked, afraid she would be pushed those last few inches into the water. The sound of the current filled her ears. Something splashed. She envisioned water rising, cresting to pull her under. She twisted in the air, unable to gain purchase on anything.
A shadow slid over her, blotting out light from above.
Another draft, a compact blast, buffete
d her like a kite in the wind, kicking up a wall of water that washed over her. She thought she had been pulled under, but remained suspended in the air after the water had receded. She gagged and wiped wet hair from her face with a trembling hand.
Something clamped around her midsection.
It lurched upward, lifting her.
Looking down at herself, she saw talons thicker than her arms gripping her torso. Looking up, she saw scales. From the corner of her eye, the downstroke of a wing caught her attention and pushed them higher into the night sky.
The dragon had her.
With each stroke of its wings, her midsection pulled upward, pressing against her spine. She felt like a mouse snagged by an owl.
She squeezed her eyes closed. This had to be a nightmare.
They leveled off.
When she opened her eyes, they glided hundreds of feet above the river and smoldering bridge, coasted in a slow circle between the banks of Oregon City and West Linn. Mara could see the lights of Portland, and its suburbs to the north and west. Main Street remained shrouded in darkness. The backdrop of the bluff obscured the business district while the shiny black river meandered through the wooded landscape below.
A gust of wind blew hair into her eyes. She lost her balance and fell backward, still firmly in the grasp of the dragon, but not upright. Bending her midsection in a flailing aerial sit-up, she levered herself forward and upward, wrapping her arms around the scaly leg above, hugging it hard enough to press the edge of a scale into her cheek. She gazed up and down, unwilling to loosen her grip to get a better look at the creature that held her.
*
An eddy jostled them. Though the dragon rose and fell without warning, it appeared to be in control.
Mara flashed back to the doomed flight that had started it all. This time, however, she was more prey than passenger. What was this creature doing? Was it going to open its claw and drop her into the river? She hugged even tighter. He could let go, but she wouldn’t.
The dragon banked, turned back for another pass over the bridge.
Broken Realms (The Chronicles of Mara Lantern, Book 1) Page 35