No. That’s not true. Two things, she realised, were keeping her going: the image of Callista and baby Ruben back with the others – she missed them already – and the thought of seeing Antal Justus again. Whether he had thought about her at all since they had parted did not matter; she needed him, so much.
She cringed and tensed her arm as the black bracelet thudded through her. ‘What did you say?’ She knew now that it was a translator of sorts. ‘I can’t hear you.’
The Sonii turned and stared up. ‘Listen,’ it said. ‘Speed now. Lean back.’
She did as she was told and the thundering roar around them was joined by an intense tremor. The pod was going to be ripped apart.
Suddenly the lights went out. Roaring and shaking and a flaming heat filled the pod. Forced back and unable to move, the smouldering smell of burning sent her dizzy. A stinging pain shot through her thigh, and she quickly realised the little creature had sunk its claws into her, terrified. She reached forward and held the Sonii close. It was shaking, petrified.
‘How will we know it’s working?’ she shouted.
Before the creature could respond, the darkness around them burned brightly. The roar and rattle intensified. It was impossible to breathe. Anna’s head spun. The console before them appeared to be melting.
‘We’re not going to make it!’
‘You survive, Gilaxiad!’ came the frightened Sonii’s reply.
‘We both will!’
The front of the pod was disappearing in front of them, reduced to liquid metal. Bright orange light burned through, the clear casement in between mere seconds from dissolving too.
‘I’m so sorry about the others,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry my people did that to your friends! But that’s not us! Not me! We’re more, so much more!’
Amid the burning light she could see the creature’s face raise up. Its hand reached toward her face, stroked her cheek.
She closed her eyes.
The roaring ceased.
Bright light receded.
All was suddenly still.
Anna looked up and out of the pod’s yawning aperture, down to a blue and green glowing planet. Her mouth hung open.
‘In . . . indes . . . indescribable.’ She breathed in, then out. ‘The Earth. It looks different. Something’s wrong.’
EIGHTY-ONE
THE SIX GUARDS posted at the entrance to Malizar Estate no longer demonstrated a convincing threat to Antal Justus. He knocked three unconscious in three sharp moves, sent the fourth soaring up onto the first-floor roof, and left the final two cowering into each others’ arms, tied upside down by the strength of their big toes.
His nemesis, he knew, would not be that easy.
Nobody hindered his path through the mansion. He followed the corridors he had taken the last time he came here. It seemed like years ago. The large banqueting room was empty, and running up the dark marble steps he left by the door he had seen Malizar enter through. A series of pristine-white tunnels came next. Justus listened to his gut and followed the tunnels ever deeper.
He did not go far before he reached a large door, fashioned with patterned wood and golden etchings. He crept through. His senses were sharp. Each foot fall placed exact. Aware of everything around him. Upon a higher floor he stopped, dead still, and peered over the balcony before him. A voice, booming and deep, sounded below. It was him. Lord Malizar was here.
The Scarlet Flux shot through the clear night sky. In the cockpit, Cathal and Vortan sat rigid and silent. Both knew what was coming. They were going to have to do what they had put off doing for so long. Malizar was so strong. If any of them had a chance of beating him, it was Antal.
‘We’re four minutes away,’ Vortan said. He caught his reflection in the display. His eyes were small in comparison to the bags beneath them.
Cathal closed his eyes, gripped his sceptre tight.
‘Where were you?’ Vortan’s fists were clenched.
‘I was—’
‘He needed you! He would not have gone had you been there.’
‘I doubt it, my friend.’
‘What are we going to do?’ He received no reply. ‘When you came back, I was overjoyed. You and Antal both here. Together. Now look at us. I hope you meant it when you said you were willing to give your life—’
‘You know I would, Lanfranc!’
‘Good. Because so would Antal. And his friends. And I imagine that, for us especially, that outcome is nothing but certain.’
Marrak Malizar stood in a dark robe which trailed along the floor behind him. His thick eyebrows pointed towards his eyes, a wicked look with power in itself. Sharp features had matured into soft, though no less dark, traits of command. High shoulders rose as high as his temples, sharp and merciless.
Justus walked across the dark marble floor, then stopped. The Dark Lord knew he was there. A veiled woman stood with him. She bowed and stepped away, leaving Malizar to imitate Justus’ stance.
‘It has been too long, Peter.’
‘You should have known I would always come for you, Marrak.’ Justus fought to keep his voice clear and steady. He couldn’t risk letting this monster see him for the imposter he was. He’d felt strong until now. But just being in the monster’s presence took his breath away.
‘No words,’ Malizar said, almost tenderly. ‘We both know what you have come here to do.’
‘I came here to make sure you don’t hurt another living soul.’
‘Then, Peter, you have already failed.’
‘I’ll give you one chance. Where is Raj?’
Malizar’s lips narrowed into a smirk.
The muscles in Justus’ neck twitched, eager to snap this creature’s neck. To rip his heart from his chest.
‘Tell me, where is Raj?’
‘Your friend? It’s a shame. He did not survive long enough to watch me burn you.’
Justus felt his knuckles clench. He bounded forwards, with utmost focus, and bunched his knuckles into iron fists. He swung. Malizar twisted, dodging aside. Justus hurtled past him and moved to strike from behind. Not fast enough. He found nothing but air.
Thump! A sharp blow from behind sent him spinning to the ground. He landed hard. Wait. An unseen force struck him in the chin. He slid back across the room, face scraping along the burning floor. He shot to his feet.
Malizar stared across the room. It would seem he hadn’t moved. He whipped his robe from his body and flung it at the watching woman.
‘I am disappointed, Peter. Your might has faded in your years of hiding. I do not have time for your games.’ His neck twitched and voice rasped in such a way that Justus found something telling him that this man wanted – no, needed – to be somewhere else.
‘I’m far past playing games!’ he cried, attempting to ignore the sharp sting spreading across his bleeding cheek.
Malizar glanced towards the edge of the room, where the hooded and veiled woman leant against the metal rail. She raised the veil and revealed her deformity. Her head dropped.
A strange sensation filled Justus’ mind, as though his senses weren’t his own. As though somebody was standing right beside him. He shivered. His breath froze in the air before him. His mother’s voice rang through his ears, screaming his name. He could see her, lying there, gasping for breath, groaning in agony.
Across the room, Malizar laughed.
The woman gasped. ‘It is not him!’
Malizar leered at Justus harshly. ‘You are sure, Sudana?’
‘No doubt, my lord. He is not Peter Marx!’
‘And he does not have the Gift?’
‘No.’ She grinned. ‘His power is nothing compared to yours. His peak has been reached already tonight.’
Justus’ heart beat in his throat. How could she know?
‘Then this boy is unimportant,’ Malizar said. ‘I will burn him now.’
‘You can try!’ Justus gritted his teeth and focused hard. His father had taught him all he needed to know. If you believe you
can beat this man, then you will!
Malizar exhaled, closing his eyes, and then looked straight at him. His hand stretched out and snapped into a fist—
The ground beneath Justus’ feet gave way. He fought to move, struggling to escape. Left foot fell through to his ankle. Dropped to one knee. He looked up. Malizar had disappeared.
‘Here,’ crawled a cold voice down his back.
Justus wrenched his foot free and reeled away as the marble melted beneath, running across the floor like black slime. He sprang back and shot for the nearby wall. Malizar was waiting. He took hold of Justus’ leg and launched him across the room into the far wall.
Justus collapsed to the ground, his back aching, blood trickling down from his forehead. The truth dawned on him. Vortan had been right. There was no chance of living through this.
But that will not stop you from trying.
He stood, shook off the pain. But it remained. Flowing through his body like he was on fire.
‘Whoever sent you here, boy, you have failed them.’
Not yet.
Justus lunged forward into the dark-filled side of the room, moving as fast as he could push himself. Through a stone arch bordering the chamber he emerged at the Dark Lord’s side. This was it—
Malizar’s hand wrapped around his throat. His windpipe was contracted. The room spun.
‘Recognise when you are defeated,’ Malizar whispered. ‘You broke into my house once before. Escape me once. Never twice.’ He held out his arm. Justus heard the snap before it registered as being him.
He fell back, held up his limp-hanging arm with the other, pure shock filling his body like a searing fire. His body screamed in agony. He couldn’t breathe. His back connected with the hard ground.
He looked up, shaking, to see Malizar hold out his hand. Sudana passed him a pistol. He held it up to the light, turned, and aimed it at Justus. ‘You never stood a chance.’
‘Not on his own!’
A light from above divided the darkness. It struck Malizar where he stood, knocking him and the veiled woman from their feet. Vortan and Cathal stood on the level above. The room churned and faded.
EIGHTY-TWO
AN ARMED GUARD stepped cautiously down the long, silent corridor. He check to either side once, twice, then behind. But not above. He cleared his throat before moving on, his echoing footfalls repeating in the place he had one moment ago been stood.
Somebody coughed.
‘Quiet!’
‘It wasn’t me!’
‘It doesn’t matter who did or did not—’
‘Oops.’
‘Oops? Why oops?’
Click.
The grate gave way, and Noah, Aíron, and Shree plummeted from above. From the bottom of the ensuing pile, Noah Nuveen groaned, ‘Get off. Please.’
Aíron jumped to her feet. ‘We made it. We’re in.’
Shree clambered up and pulled Noah to his feet. He craned himself backward, snapping his spine in several concurrent cracks. ‘That’s the easy part over and done with,’ he said. ‘Now we just need to find Justus.’
‘And Raj,’ Aíron added. Shree placed both hands on her hips.
‘Of course. Raj too.’ Noah looked about, hobbled forward on his injured foot, and signalled that they should move. ‘I don’t recognise this part. Then again it does all look the same. Think. What do we know?’
‘The tape Raj was in showed a white room,’ Aíron said.
‘Okay. A white room. Let’s go with that. There was certainly nothing white about the holding room we found Shree in when we first came here.’
Shree shook her head and shivered.
‘Did you see anywhere like the place in the video?’
‘No. Not that I can remember. Perhaps it’s some kind of medical facility. Sterile.’ He held his tongue before he mentioned the word surgery.
An echoed tapping rang out nearby. The three turned and headed in the opposite direction.
‘Let’s head lower,’ he said. ‘We haven’t much time.’
‘Do you think Dimal will help, Noah?’
He shrugged. ‘I think she will. But right now we’re on our own. We have to get Raj. That’s all we have to think about.’
They ran down a dozen corridors before they found a pure white hallway. Several rooms were locked, but Noah’s blaster took out the locks. No alarms sounded, so they attempted as many as they could. Almost at the end of the corridor, and ready to give up hope, they saw a figure lay across a bed through the door’s glass panel.
‘It is him?’
‘I think . . . I hope so.’
‘Shhh, someone’s coming!’
Footsteps echoed along the corridor. Noah shot through the lock and the three piled in. He prayed the guard didn’t notice the damaged lock or the smell of the weapon, and triggered the blaster ready.
The guard passed outside the room. The three remained silent, waited until he had disappeared, and headed across the room. Cabinets filled with bugs and dozens of creatures lined the walls. Noah shivered.
At the opposite end of the room, they found the bed.
‘It’s him!’ Aíron cried, overjoyed, eyes filled with tears.
And there he was. Raj Timbur lay, bruised and thin, strapped to a bed which fastened over a flat belt of rubber. Almost like—
A hand reached around Noah’s neck. Shree went to move, but he pushed himself back. The guard that had found them went with him. Both landed on the panel beside the bed. An alarming whine filled the room and the bed, set upon the horizontal black belt, began to move towards a small room at the end. Raj moved with it.
‘Oh my god!’ Aíron screamed. ‘It’s an oven!’
‘Oh, shit,’ Noah said, still struggling with the unrelenting guard.
Shree threw her weight onto the moving conveyor belt. But it didn’t work. She raised the table from nearby and threw it in the way, but it simply crushed the table and continued on. The bed wouldn’t detach from the belt either.
‘Get him off it!’ Noah cried.
The guard jumped up, but the medic pulled him back, produced his blaster. It was knocked from his hands. Both scrambled for it. The guard found it first. Noah punched him hard several times and dove for his arm, sinking his teeth into his wrist. The guard cried out, head butted him hard in the face. Noah’s vision twisted and turned, but he threw all his weight onto the man and held him down.
Behind them, the belt continued to move. Shree was frantic, doing everything she could to break Raj’s restraints. The boy didn’t move, unconscious and unaware of the turmoil surrounding him. Aíron rushed about, trying to find some kind of off-switch. Nothing.
‘Shree, no!’ she said. ‘You’ll break his arms.’
Shree was pulling at her brother now, unable to control herself.
‘Break his wrists!’ Noah cried, having fixed his arms around the guard’s neck. He held on from behind, pulling as tight as he could. ‘Break whatever you have to – just get him off there!’
The guard’s finger nails dug into Noah’s legs, peeling skin through his trousers. Noah wrapped his arms tighter round his neck, forcing pressure onto his Carotid. A sharp crack followed. Noah let go, heart hammering his chest. He crawled across the floor, found his feet.
‘It’s taking him into the furnace!’ Aíron said. ‘It’s going to take him! I’m going in with him!’
‘No, you’re not!’
Noah jumped back and grasped the blaster, triggered it, and fired at the restraints. He would blow Raj’s arms and legs off if it meant saving him. ‘Get back!’ he said, and fired again. But the metal was too strong, his aim too poor.
‘Let me try,’ Aíron said, snatching the blaster. She raised it, triggered, and fired. The restraints blackened, the arm iron broke. She fired at the leg restraints, ripping away one. The bed crossed the threshold, passing into the oven. Noah seized the weapon, pushed Aíron out of the away, and clambered onto the bed as it entered the furnace.
The doorw
ay was going to close. As they entered, he fired at the arm, damaging Raj’s hand, but taking out the restraint. Shree entered behind him, pulling on her brother’s legs like a wild animal. Noah pulled him to his knees, shot again at the leg restraint. Shree ripped his leg free, forced him back.
‘Take him, Shree, take him!’
Aíron pulled him out. The door slammed shut.
Noah froze, the reality struck him like a knife in the chest. He gazed in horror through the glass panel at Aíron and Raj. Beside him, Shree knelt in shock. Aíron screamed hysterically, dropping Raj and rushing to find a way to stop the furnace. She pressed every button she could find.
Noah hammered the door. Shree threw all her weight into the oven wall.
‘What do I do?!’ Aíron shrieked. ‘WHAT DO I DO?!’
‘Forget finding Justus!’ Noah cried. ‘Just go. Get out!’
He vomited on the floor, sobbing and retching. Shree knelt down facing him. His whole body shook. A burning sensation crept up his arms. Another door closed inside, blocking out all light from outside. Aíron was on her own.
Noah clutched Shree’s hand tighter than he ever had. ‘We saved your brother. He’s alive. We saved him. I wish you could say something.’ He edged closer to her. His face flushed, sweat crept down his back. ‘It’s . . . It’s just you and me. Like always, Shree. You and me. Say something. Oh no. So hot. No!’
Tears merged with sweat as it fell down Shree’s face. She was so beautiful. ‘We’ve done so much! We can do so much more! Together, Shree. We have to . . . we can . . .’
Flame burst alive behind. He closed his eyes, felt his skin harden and numb. ‘Say something, Shree. Please. I’m scared.’
She said nothing, but leaned in to embrace him, her large, warm body pressing him close. Ablaze everywhere. Burning. Weakening. Bliss. The flames surrounded them, and they both burned, fading into each other, forever.
EIGHTY-THREE
ANTAL JUSTUS’ FACE throbbed. Sweat poured down across his eyes as if it were a steaming rain. His arm had bent into a dull, pulsing ache which sent him faint and everything else distant. He lay down in the dark room. Defeated. Sealed within a bitter cold container, he and his father were surrounded by hundreds more, consumed by horror and terrified screams. A small ray of light found its way through a miniscule gap in the roof.
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