Right now, only Merovech and Ansel mattered. Brendan could waste no more time.
He opened himself up, and he gave himself to the tar.
6
It was as if the tar had been waiting at a doorway, pressing into it, and Brendan had swung it wide, allowing the stuff to flow through. A process he’d observed far too many times began happening to him with terrifying speed. The tar stretched his mouth wide, pouring through his lips and down his throat. It snaked up his nostrils and into his ears. Pressure surged through Brendan’s body. Every square inch of him threatened to burst.
But he wasn’t dying.
He wouldn’t die.
He knew this.
Brendan sensed the tar’s intentions as it permeated his body: It meant to leave him alive. It could leave his consciousness untouched while lending him more power than he’d ever thought possible. The tentacles that had restrained him now filled him. The heart of Tir Anhrefnus poured into Brendan, and when he feared he would explode if any more of the black stuff entered him, it coated his body. It wrapped around his head, his arms, his legs, adding its mass to his. There were corners of Brendan’s mind that remained untouched by the tar. There were rooms he would not allow it to enter, but he gave it enough of himself, and in return, it gave him power.
The heart knew Brendan’s destination, and it intended to come along. But did it know what he planned to do after defeating Merovech? If so, why was it so eager to follow him? Did it know something he didn’t?
Brendan only knew his next step was to take the endless black with him, to point it at Merovech like the biggest, heaviest blaster on the planet, and to pull the trigger.
Brendan soared into the colorless sky, trailing tar. The mountain collapsed beneath him, emptied of its contents.
7
Brendan didn’t know how long Alicia’s projection stuck around after he opened himself to the tar. He’d stopped paying attention to anything but the portal the instant the power flowed into him.
Now he raced across cracked earth, leaving plumes of dust in his wake. The sense of pressure abated as his body acclimated to the new presence inside it. The tar covered his eyes, but he didn’t need them. He saw everything the tar saw. His vision stretched in every direction, the ruined gray world racing past him in a million different directions. The tar clogged his throat, but he didn’t need to breathe. The black infection filled him and surrounded him, giving him power and life as he gave it the ability to move.
The portal appeared on the horizon. Brendan pushed the tar to carry him faster still, and it obeyed without complaint. Merovech must have already passed through, but Brendan wasn’t concerned. He would follow behind soon enough. He would call Merovech to account, not only for everything he’d done to Brendan’s world, but also for his fear of losing power.
Brendan reached the portal. There was no time to waste. He slowed his pace, and he walked into the caverns below Ansel’s castle.
8
Leaving Tir Anhrefnus was much more jarring than entering had been. The second Brendan’s head passed through the doorway, a cacophony of screams and crashes assaulted his ears. Merovech had come through the portal with none of the interest in talking he’d shown moments earlier when Brendan confronted him.
The screams belonged mostly to Krystal, though occasionally Samson would shout, too. Ansel was the only silent one, choosing instead to stand in a darkened corner of the cavern, hands clasped as he shivered with fear. Merovech darted around the cavern, lashing out with black tentacles, which Samson and Krystal narrowly evaded. He’d placed a handful of tar patches at the entrance to the cavern—far enough apart that the exit looked promising, but close enough together that any attempt to flee would end in infection.
Through it all, Merovech was silent. Even his rumbling, psychic whispers were absent, though Brendan sensed his mirth.
He was toying with them. If he’d wanted to, he would have infected them by now. He was enjoying the taste of their fear in the air. Brendan knew this because the tar inside Merovech came from the tar inside himself.
For that same reason, he knew Merovech had not noticed him. He was too focused on his cruel game. He hadn’t imagined Brendan would allow the tar inside him, much less that he’d take the heart of Tir Anhrefnus with him. He’d sense Brendan soon enough, though. Brendan had brought a lot of power with him.
Brendan pulled the rest of himself through the portal. The heart of Tir Anhrefnus in all its vastness had waited just on the other side, but now Brendan called it forth, squeezing it through a hole that was microscopic by comparison. For anything else this size, a portal so tiny would prove troublesome.
But the tar always found a way.
The black substance squeezed through the portal, changing shape and thickness to pour into another world. It rejoined Brendan, wrapping around his arms and legs and chest and becoming his second body. His superior body.
He hadn’t realized how much tar there was in Tir Anhrefnus. But now, as he grew with every fresh layer, he understood. He wasn’t simply powerful. He was massive. Tar continued flowing through the portal and covering his body until his whole frame filled the cavern. He stood twice as tall as Merovech.
Finally, Merovech noticed him. Everyone noticed him.
All motion ceased.
Eyes wide, Krystal stared at him. Her lip quivered. “Brendan?”
Brendan gave no response. He only beckoned to the patches of tar at the entrance to the cavern. They separated from the wall and flew toward him as easily as leaves in an autumn breeze. The tiny patches joined the writhing mass that now covered him, disappearing into a sea of black with currents running all over Brendan’s torso.
Seeing what was happening, Merovech moved to confront Brendan, but Brendan was ready. The tar gathered at his chest and burst forth in a blast a foot wide. The tar slammed into Merovech and threw him across the cavern. As the pillar retracted, it tore bits of Merovech’s own tar away from him, further adding to the mass surrounding Brendan.
“Get out!” Brendan screamed, only he wasn’t screaming. He couldn’t scream. Not with the thick, black tentacle running down his throat. The command came out in that same inaudible rumble as Merovech’s voice in Tir Anhrefnus.
But Krystal and Samson heard. They stiffened at the sound—or lack thereof—and sprinted out of the cavern. Samson grabbed Ansel by the arm and pulled him along. Merovech tried to lunge for them as they passed, but Brendan lashed out with another tentacle, wrapping him up and yanking him onto his back. Merovech didn’t get up after that. He lay there, watching Brendan with that same cold gleam in his eyes.
When the retreating footsteps had all but faded away, Merovech pulled himself to his feet. His eyes locked with Brendan’s, waiting for his opponent’s next attack. Brendan could’ve sworn he saw the old wizard’s mouth twitch around the thick, black tentacle, attempting something resembling a smile.
Ah, here you are. Draped in your newfound power. Do you really believe you can wield it well?
“Well enough.”
No words echoed off the stone walls as they spoke, but the entire foundation of Ansel’s castle shook with psychic energy.
And thus the heart of Tir Anhrefnus comes into a new world. Do you even know what to do with it?
“Yeah. I’m killing you.”
Merovech’s mouth twitched again, and another grotesque caricature of a smile curled around the pulsing black tentacle.
That task may prove more difficult than you expect. You are nothing to Tir Anhrefnus. You are an infant, thinking that by swimming in the ocean you can send ships along trade routes. But you control nothing in this ocean. You are drowning in it.
“Let’s see about that.”
Yes. Let’s.
9
Merovech must’ve been playing helpless, huddled in the corner of the cavern and falling with each of Brendan’s strikes. Once the old wizard l
eapt into action, that look of helplessness vanished. When Brendan swung another ponderous tentacle at his head, he dodged it. In the blur of motion, Brendan only noticed a thin tendril splitting off of the tar in Merovech’s mouth an instant before it shot out. The next moment, it stabbed Brendan’s side.
Brendan let out a psychic roar of agony, recoiling while realizing only the tar was in pain. He himself felt nothing.
And yet the pain was so real.
Three more tendrils lodged in Brendan’s roiling black hide, one right after the other. The tar sent burning impulses along the tentacles and into Brendan. The tar bathed his nerves in pain, commanding Brendan to share its suffering.
And he did. The sensation was overpowering. He tried to back away, but Merovech’s tendrils held firm. Merovech only floated closer the more Brendan retreated.
The tendrils siphoned tar from Brendan. Little bulges traveled along the thin black strands, moving from Brendan’s body to Merovech’s. If Brendan didn’t do something about it soon, Merovech would take the entire heart of Tir Anhrefnus for himself.
Brendan lifted one tar-covered arm, holding it aloft for only a moment before bringing it down across all four tendrils. They stretched and snapped in two, spattering the cavern with patches of tar.
More pain exploded in Brendan’s mind. Each snapped tendril felt like Brendan ripped his own arm off. But as the heart of Tir Anhrefnus dumped those impulses of excruciating pain into Brendan’s own nervous system, an agonized shriek erupted from Merovech. Brendan allowed himself a tar-distorted smile.
Off balance, Brendan swung his other arm, gathering as much tar as possible there. His previously long and lean arm transformed into a massive club. Merovech was too slow to avoid this one. It crashed against his head and sent him tumbling down the cavern. He picked himself up and turned back to Brendan, those old, evil eyes gleaming. Then he flew into the darkness, disappearing into the tunnels. At first, Brendan thought he’d scared him off, that he’d shown him his superior power, but then he realized who else was in that hallway.
The only person capable of destroying the tar.
Merovech was going to kill Ansel.
10
The tunnels had felt claustrophobic before, but now that the tar made Brendan so much larger, they were almost impossible to navigate. Each of Brendan’s shoulders grazed the walls, leaving trails of tar along the stone surface. The ceiling crowded his head. He knew the tar could squeeze through the tunnels. He knew the tar wasn’t his real body. He knew, he knew, he knew.
And yet he couldn’t help but feel this tunnel was squeezing him and skinning him alive.
Ansel was the last hope for destroying the tar. Tryfnium-coated bullets wouldn’t be enough to defeat Merovech. Brendan needed something much bigger. Something much more powerful. Something he wasn’t even sure Ansel could create anymore.
But it was their only option, and if Merovech got to Ansel, they would lose that, too.
A new tentacle sprouted from Brendan’s back. He directed it along the curves of the hallway, searching for Merovech as he continued his clumsy gallop. The tentacle found Merovech and wrapped around his waist. Brendan yanked him back, drawing close enough to see him around a corner of the tunnel. The tentacle absorbed some of the tar surrounding Merovech and sent it into the mass growing over Brendan’s body.
But the victory didn’t last long. Merovech slashed at Brendan’s tentacle with one of this own, severing it in one neat stroke. Pain exploded in every synapse of Brendan’s body, placed there as punishment from the heart of Tir Anhrefnus. Brendan pushed the false sensation aside. Part of the tentacle splashed onto the stone floor, forming a massive patch of writhing infection.
The instant he pulled free, Merovech sped away. Brendan rushed after him. As he stepped in the remains of his tentacle, he called it back to his body. The patch of black ran up his legs, joining black currents and feeding their power.
As they reached the end of the tunnel beneath Ansel’s castle, Brendan heard the urgent footsteps and panicked voices of his companions. Or was it the tar hearing them and relaying the information? Did any difference remain between the two? The searing pain that filled Brendan every time he damaged the tar was enough to convince him the line between them grew hazier by the second.
Only a few paces ahead, Merovech burst through the doorway leading into Ansel’s castle. He tumbled in the reversed gravity, but recovered easily. Brendan followed, passing through this door as he had the portal. First his human body came through. The mass of tar waited behind, and then, bit by bit, it flowed through the small opening, wrapping itself around Brendan’s body until he regained his monstrous form.
They’d caught up to Samson, Krystal, and Ansel. Merovech’s movements gained fresh urgency as he saw his prey.
Brendan needed to make a move, and fast. He lunged forward, sending out streams of tar to hold Merovech back. A few tendrils found their marks, and Brendan pulled himself to the old wizard. They fell in a tangle on the floor.
The retreating group turned at the sudden sound, and each recoiled at the sight of twisted bodies and mingling tar.
“Ansel!” Brendan called.
Ansel stiffened, surprised once again at the clarity of Brendan’s voice inside his own head, while Brendan’s mouth remained motionless around the massive black tentacle that held it wide open.
“Let it go, Ansel. Let it all go.”
Brendan sensed Merovech’s confusion in the writhing blackness of the tar, but Ansel understood. He nodded, then ushered Krystal and Samson onward.
That was when the floor beneath Brendan and Merovech exploded.
11
It seemed the earth itself had shattered. Blocks tore free from their spots, flying into the infinite dark above them. The dizzying patterns on the walls blurred together as they, too, pulled loose and plummeted upward. Statues fell to pieces bit by bit and disappeared into the blackness above.
After so many years of focusing his power on every statue, every pattern, every individual stone, Ansel was letting go. There was no more reversed gravity holding everything in place, no more steadying power to maintain order among throughout his floating kingdom.
Without Ansel’s power, the castle fell apart.
Up ahead, Ansel ran on solid ground with Samson and Krystal. The path to the castle’s exit remained in pristine condition, but with every step the three took, more of the castle burst into pieces. The stones weren’t peacefully ascending into the void above, either. It was as if all the years they’d spent resisting the pull of gravity had caught up to them, and now they felt the combined effects. The blocks glancing off Brendan’s body would have gravely injured him had he not been wrapped in a nearly indestructible cloak of tar.
He and Merovech floated off the ground in their fight. The gravity, now pulling in its usual direction, tried to drag them along with the rest of the castle, but the tar inside Brendan and Merovech held them in place. They hovered over the castle’s exploding floor, trading blows and siphoning tar from one another as debris flew past and glanced off their inky hides.
Brendan threw tar in a tidal wave, burying Merovech in his power. The wave split into tentacles, wrapping around the old wizard and tossing him into a wall, moments before it exploded and its shards ascended. Brendan reached for Merovech again, this time splitting the tar to reveal his mod and firing the metal fist into Merovech’s nose. Bones crunched, and Brendan was certain he saw real pain flash across the old wizard’s features. Merovech didn’t bleed, though, and his power didn’t falter. Merovech twisted free, sending Brendan spinning through the empty expanse beyond the destruction of Ansel’s castle.
Merovech tried to escape, but Brendan didn’t let him get far. He fired himself like a missile, wrapping his enemy in a tangle of tar and flesh and mod. He pummeled the old wizard, wrapped his mod around his throat, tore away chunks of black, but as hard as Brendan tried, he couldn’t kill
Merovech. The old wizard was too strong. The tar was too strong.
With one final psychic roar, Merovech pulled free. Black tentacles snapped, and once again he sped away as the castle exploded around them. White shards tore through Merovech’s body, but they barely slowed him down. A block would catch him in the shoulder, twist him sideways and even leave a nasty gash, but then Merovech would right himself and continue his pursuit. Brendan himself weathered a barrage of debris, but he maintained his pace with just as much determination.
They both knew what was at stake.
The chase took them to the entrance to Ansel’s castle. As they left, Brendan looked over his shoulder. Only the front wall of the castle remained, and that too fell to pieces and plummeted into the sky. There was nothing left now. Just a massive circular hole in the middle of a solid white expanse.
“You’ll never catch him like this,” said a voice at Brendan’s side.
He didn’t have to turn to see her, because the tar lining his body sensed her. Alicia. Once again beside him, flickering in and out of reality. She soared alongside him, keeping pace with no effort at all.
Could Merovech hear her? He gave no indication that he could, but his focus now was singular. All he wanted was to kill Ansel.
“He’ll keep running, and every time you catch him, he’ll break free. Soon your friends won’t be able to run anymore. You won’t be able to protect them.”
That very thought had been building in Brendan’s mind, but to hear it spoken so bluntly made his stomach drop. Was this how it all ended?
“He’ll never stop as long as the Black God lives inside him. But you can change that. Remember how you saved me?”
Finally, Brendan understood what he needed to do.
He just wondered if he would survive it.
12
With a sound like a million bones breaking, a fissure opened in the surface beneath Brendan. A second crack splintered alongside it, and more and more appeared until an entire web covered the expanse. The ground burst into pieces, all of which shot at Brendan, tearing off chunks of tar. Everything around him disintegrated until he hovered in an empty sea.
Tar Page 28