Link here to a general overview of the novel
Prologue, Chpt 1, Chpt 2, Chpt 3, Chpt 4, Chpt 5, Chpt 6, Chpt 7, Chpt 8, Chpt 9, Chpt 10, Chpt 11, Chpt 12, Chpt 13, Chpt 14, Chpt 15, Chpt 16, Chpt 17, Chpt 18, Chpt 19, Chpt 20, Chpt 21, Chpt 22, Chpt 23, Chpt 24, Chpt 25, Chpt 26, Chpt 27, Chpt 28, Chpt 29
Chapter Thirty
Daav
The vehicle finally arrives and there’s room for five of us. We agree that numbers may make the difference to the mission. Pike decides he’s one of the group. I fight for an instant, offended again at his paternalistic bullshit, then give up because we need to move.
Before Pike can add anything else, I name Frederick, Hanna and, surprising myself, Colleen to the vehicle. Not because it’s fair to Frederick to subject him to Colleen, but maybe because it is. I trust him. I trust him to do what needs doing because he’s intelligent, solid, and he’s family. I don’t trust Colleen, but she’s our best healer and also intelligent and willing to fight, in all senses of the word. Hanna is becoming…more to me. A link to something I thought I lost years ago, but also something completely new. And she’s fit and fighting-trained given Deidre’s lifelong obsession with developing her ward through physical challenges.
Unsurprisingly, Colleen produces guns for us, exchanges words with the man who delivered the vehicle and gets into the back seat. Hanna immediately climbs into the middle, separating Colleen and Frederick as I take shotgun again. Our entire Cohort is united in protecting Frederick from his Mentor.
The storm dissipated suddenly two bells ago, unnerving our group as much with its exit as with its pounding presence, but it means less challenge to our goal. As we begin the drive back into Bistral, I search my phone for news and choose a reliable source which focuses on the capital, and then hit the audio link.
“More than a dozen environmental disasters have been reported throughout the city since ten bells this morning, following a similar amount yesterday. Lightning strikes, significant quakes, tornadoes, sinkholes,” the commentator says. “Bistral is in lockdown and the Congress has instituted Military rule for the foreseeable future. The Conclave, also damaged by a quake, has called all of its mages in to help military personnel assist with problems around Bistral. Conflicting reports about mage impact are challenging city response planning, some stating that additional mage intervention is noted as increasing the disaster levels at each event. General Seymour asks that citizens keep their devices nearby for regular updates. At least one quake has damaged a power plant with outages across the city on the heels of the last outage a few days ago. Similar events are being reported throughout the rest of our country and initial reports of comparable disasters have begun to trickle in from around the globe. At least three incidents in Staltz are known, further disproving the idea that our enemy is responsible for the destruction.”
I haven’t been inside my Verse since dealing with the hail and tree branches late last night. Are the effects that delayed? And worldwide? They should diminish if I’m not disrupting stability when I access my tangles. What about the storm this morning?
Hanna, it seems, reads my mind. “If your magic is causing the problems, is it leaking even without purposeful Verse work?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. I’ve been so sure that if I’m out of the picture, let Harkness have his way and end my miserable existence, the whole destructive impact of my Verse will stop. Now I’ve come to terms with needing to enter it again to find Sebastian to protect him. My head’s cloudy with the effects of my fear for him, but what if Isolde is right? What if Sebastian is? At this moment I can’t decide if it matters. I’ll take the next step forward, the rest can wait.
From the back of the car, Hanna speaks, her words a steady offering. She’s heard something in my voice, that little bit of loss at a moment I need clarity to be sure of success.
“I know you weren’t responsible for what happened to Trina. It’s taken too long to understand that, but I get it now. My grief got in the way of seeing clearly. Don’t let your feelings get in your way now. Not the grief, not the guilt, and not the fear.”
“Hanna, is this really the time?” Frederick asks.
It’s Colleen who answers. “There isn’t time left for anything but truth, that’s the point.” And maybe she means more than for just our race to find Sebastian.
“I know, Hanna,” I answer, rolling my shoulders with the thick tension of the unknown and more than just my own fear sitting between all of us in the car. “I’ll go with it. I’m not trying to decide anything right now.”
“It’ll be difficult to get into the city with the lockdown,” Pike says from the driver’s seat.
“Let’s see if we need to even try. I can use my Verse to search for him as soon as we’re closer.”
“How?” Pike asks.
“Do you need the mechanics?” My question sounds annoyed even to me.
“No, although if we’re here to support you, some clue helps.”
So I get over myself, as my Angel might say, and explain to him the way my tangles search for Sebastian.
Sharing is awkward, a rusty disjointed jerk to practice opening to even these people meant to be family. It comes easily to Sebastian, and my heart twists a painful beat with the thought.
“It’s hard to believe two people can have this with each other,” Frederick adds, shaking his head, something a little dead in his tone. “The level of connection, love. I’ve felt it watching you and Seb, so I know it’s true, but other times I can’t believe it’s possible. My brain tries to reject it, like it’s just a fairy tale.”
Beside him, Hanna makes a choked sound and we turn our heads to her. She blinks at me, eyes over wide, and I understand. It’s caught her by surprise, the memory of how Trina was exactly that to her.
And then Colleen, who hasn’t turned to look at any of us, quietly says, “It’s possible. It exists.”
Most of the time true fairy tales don’t have happy endings. We like to forget that. But I can’t.
None of us say anything more, we keep driving until we’re on the outskirts of the city.
It’s there I open my Verse. My crystals gallop around me in circles, singing and light filled and I launch up into the air to fly over the streets and neighborhoods beyond us over the border, tracing the flowing molecules and atoms underlying everything beneath. A wild energy crackles through me as we fly, powerful but far from stable.
The magic expands out. Searching. And for the first time I indulge my Verse and tangles, imagining Sebastian and his own dark, serrated tangles with their whispering disharmony. For the first time I let my longing stain my feelings and thoughts to mingle between the glowing beauty.
Sebastian. The whisper is an exhale, a wish, a command. And the tangles echo back hope, excitement, confusion and panic.
We’ve agreed to stay on side roads that circle the city to let me use what’s now the outer limits of my magical stretch to touch more parts.
But as we circle, there’s nothing. The bounds of my search widen as we drive parallel to the next parts of Bistral. I soar over the train depot and my stomach drops with disappointment when there’s no more response than from anywhere else.
Finally, on the northern edge of the capital, my crystals leap with a burst of power. And they pull, lean me in a new direction.
I see him, or his ugly, tumbleweed tangles with their grating cackles and moans. They strain and wail. And it’s then I see it. I see blood and a shadow of my Angel himself, slumped in a chair, the image of his body, skin covered in bruises and swelling. Very broken.
And then the view of him and of his Verse stutters, dies, and my tangles sound their own wail.
Seeeebbbbbbbaaaaaassssssttttiiiiiiiiaaaaaaannnnnnnn.
The name is fuller, crisper than the times before. It’s like the grief of it stretches the letters of his name into a stark reality.
But in that brief moment I see him and his Verse, I know.
I fall back into my body to the vibration of the auto. My fingers dig into the front dash, and the scream is still there, thrashing against the tattered remnants of my control.
“Verse twist it!! Keep heading North, but wrap to the East after we hit Lake Blaise. I’ve found him, so hurry the fuck up!”
###
We park in a clearing about a quarter mile from the development and hike to the treeline maybe sixty feet from the building.
“We need to know what we’re getting into,” Pike says. “We can’t charge in without figuring out who’s inside and their threat level.”
Frederick shakes his head in agreement.
“And we can’t risk the little boy if it goes to shit and his asshole father sends a message that endangers him. Or just kill everyone if it means we can’t get Tuck’s location from them.”
I’m surprised Frederick speaks so casually of killing, with his only regret being putting Sebastian’s brother in harm’s way. His heart is big, but I wonder if what Colleen’s done may have honed a cutting edge that lies underneath.
Three men, all armed, circle the building on guard duty. Another man comes out the main doors and trades places with one of them.
We have our own guns, more of Colleen’s supplies, but I want to throw open my Verse and stop their hearts or blow them into tiny pieces. From this distance I can’t do anything extreme without risking Sebastian, not with my slipping control.
Hanna stands next to me behind the tree cover and leans into my side. “Can you use your Verse to get a sense of how many are in there?”
“Yes.” I don’t say many words because if I let out too many it’ll end in a savage roar.
Instead I focus on my breathing and whisper promises to the beauty and symphony of the tangles. Then I’m flying down into the abandoned property. My other sight focuses on the moving shapes of bone and organ, molecules of blood and the weave of skin cells that contain them all. I count twelve upright masses including the ones still outside. There’s an additional one sitting on a chair.
Sebastian, the slouch of his body and the sluggish movement of his systems show me where he is in relation to the others. He’s the body on the chair. I remember the earlier image of him bloody and battered and for the first time my Verse shades dark and dim from its bright beauty, rings a discordant note. The whole of it shakes, vibrates and strains, but holds itself in check. I feel its brittle battle and my soul is cold with the same, full of both shock and rage, enough to shatter bone. I won’t weep if it escapes me and hurts these people who’ve hurt my Angel. But it’s too risky, and I remind myself it’s not time yet. The effect lessens, and I continue the scan to notice the molecules of metal in their weapons and memorize locations of these organic masses. My crystals want to leap into the elements of the building and cause a reaction, but I insist we pull back, insist to my crystals that I return to my regular body. This is the only way to save him, I repeat. Repeat again to keep it all in check. And to remind myself. With another discordant note, they acquiesce. Strange, as they’re cooperative in ways they’ve never been before.
I wake, ignore the same vibrating volatile energy pumping through my blood as in the Verse, and stare down my friends.
“Fourteen aside from Sebastian. Sebastian’s in a chair inside, probably tied to it. Everyone carries at least one weapon, semi-automatic minimum. A few machine guns,” I tell them.
Our guns won’t be worth much except in short range.
Colleen looks up from where she examines her phone. “My sources finally traced the location of the original message to Seb. We have the IP address and specific router. It’s located at a residential property. I’ve sent it to Esther. They’ll head out to the location to see if the child is there. I was able to get a second auto dropped after we left.”
“It’s inside Bistral?” I ask.
“Yes.”
“They’ll have the same problem getting inside city borders for any rescue,” Hanna says.
“But Staltz will have more trouble getting to him too if his location is leaked,” Pike adds.
We’ll save him, Angel. I promise.
But the relief of it is nothing to the hole still gouged in my heart with Sebastian inside that property.
We argue about strategy then. Guns alone aren’t enough to accurately disable the men at this distance, and we’ll need to be closer for the rest of them to work their tangles and knock Sebastian’s captors unconscious. Can I accomplish this on my own? I already went over this with myself. Killing them will not make me weep, but could harm my Angel in the process. My magic’s been anything but controlled lately, and we need to know the location of the little boy, Tuck, in case we’re wrong about that address. That means keeping one of his parents alive. Sebastian will never forgive himself or any of us if something happens to his brother.
Okay, Hanna, Colleen and Frederick will try to put the crew to sleep, with myself and Pike guarding them and causing distraction while they’re in their Verse. But first an explosion to get most of them out of the building and closer to us. For that I don’t need proximity.
Again, I open the door to my Verse. Like the tangles already know the plan, they rush ahead to a location about thirty paces from the front entrance of the building, closer to our hiding place, and to an abandoned drum of machine oil sitting next to a rusted single man digger.
“Turn your eyes,” I remember to warn, and close mine.
It takes only moments as the crystals drop into the drum.
A sharp blast and the ground shakes.
Light flashes, blinding.
Fire flares up. Engulfs the drum and digger.
Yelling from inside and men are running from the building.
“What the fuck!”
“Shit! Put out the flames! It’ll spread to the building!”
“With what, asshole?”
It’s panic as they run around looking for stuff to douse the fire.
“Lorenz!” one yells back at the building, and the man from the video runs out.
I wrench out of the Verse. “Now,” I yell, raising my gun.
My friends squat, focus, drop into their Verse, and the first of the men begin to stumble, fall over.
Three, a fourth, fifth and sixth. But as soon as they fall the man who looks way too much like a weathered fading Sebastian scans the area. He sees us and shouts, raises his gun, fires a shot. I duck. Pike shoots back, even without hope of hitting the guy who I guess is my Angel’s father. More of the men drop, but then this Lorenz runs back into the structure.
Back into where he’s got Sebastian.
No fucking way! Verse curse that asshole.
But as I begin to run after and let my Verse expand around me to catch Lorenz and crush him, it wrenches me back. Four other clouds of energy call for me. Orange fog, watery viscous slush, splintering mirror glass and striped multicolor coils draw my attention as I see the inside of my friends’ Verse. My gaze flies to where they squat, and Pike holds his gun covering them and taking shot after shot at the few remaining conscious guards.
Hhhheeeelllllpppp. Ffffrrriiiiieeeendddsssss.
But my friends don’t need the help. Sebastian does.
Hhhheeeelllllpppp. Ffffrrriiiiieeeendddsssss. Hhhheeeelllllpppp. Ffffrrriiiiieeeendddsssss.
Oh, the Verse doesn’t mean they need help, it means my friends can help me. How?
Hhhheeeelllllpppp. Ffffrrriiiiieeeendddsssss. Ttttttoooouuuuuccchhhhhh.
Touch? Does it mean that our Verse touch?
It pauses, waits, and the glowing, singing crystals shine their beauty toward Colleen, Frederick, Hanna and Pike. Almost tranquil, it allows me to consider the offer.
Okay. Okay. If I go in with my power so hot and big and volatile, I’ll do more than damage the fucker who’s claimed to be Sebastian’s father. I could hurt Sebastian. Maybe doing it this other way will help. Plus I’m done worrying about the effects of giving into my magic. Sebastian is everything.
So instead, I let my Verse have its way…and reach.
With no chance to warn my friends, my present sight shows me the moment their bodies shudder. Pike’s gun drops as he’s engulfed by his Verse without plan, and my tangles reach for them. They touch, establish a link to theirs, the group of them fragile, but grasping them together. Their tangles waver, shivering like their bodies. But my crystals hold tight, smugly satisfied, and fragment into countless tiny filaments which interweave with them, building a fragile bridge, but it’s there.
Click, and the joining solidifies and I’m clear and solid, the power multiplied. We expand.
In a breath, I’m everywhere all at once. I’m inside the abandoned building and over the figure of Lorenz as his weapon levels at Sebastian. The sense of precise control, a sharp clarity settles over my Verse consciousness like a second skin. Seamless, immense.
Lorenz’s gun coughs bullets, but my tangles are there, merging with the materials of the projectiles to disintegrate them mid air.
And then I dive inside the molecules of this tragedy of a human being calling himself my Angel’s father. Skimming over his mind, noting electrical impulses and information to call up the image of Tuck’s location, mining this man’s putrid mind. Aware that at the same time the joined structure of the five connected Verse allows another of us to send tangles inside the slumped form of Sebastian and begin healing, clearing the taint of drugs from his system and mending injured organs and bones.
Another part of our joined Verse is sending the last of the other guards to the floor unconscious. Sending the woman in the corner from the video, his contemptuous mother, down as well.
But now that I have the little boy’s location, my soul howls to crush this Lorenz, snuff out his life as my Verse hovers over the black and blue figure of my lover. He hurt Sebastian. He needs to die.
Instead, Sebastian’s rope bindings disintegrate, and a steady powerful hum of compassion flavors the linkages between me and my friends. I’m not sure of its source. It’s something I’d expect to come from my Angel but he’s still unconscious.
Instead of killing his tormentor, I thrust another tangle into the asshole and knock him out. The Verse thrums with triumph and settles, humming along the bonds of our four realities.
Joooooiiiiiiiinnnnn. Fiiiiiiixxxxxxxxxxxxx. Thank you. Then lets me slip out of its hold.
But my body knows the story, I’m already at the chair, lowering Sebastian as he slumps from the seat onto the floor, cradling him. This man. My fingers thread into his soft tangled blood soaked locks. He’s suffered so much pain.
His breath blows out, eyes blink once, twice, open. Thank Verse.
“Angel, sweetheart,” I say, no more than a whisper.
He blinks again, struggling to focus. I see the moment his gaze catches on me.
“Don’t worry, love, I’ve got you. And we know your brother’s location. We’re going to get him. He’ll be okay.” I’m still stroking his hair, trying not to press against anything as I hold him despite knowing the healing worked.
But Sebastian’s eyes stay blank, he doesn’t respond. There’s awareness there, but it’s been too much. Shock maybe. It kills me to see him this way. Like a multitude of little cuts suffusing my insides.
“Love you, Angel,” I whisper again with those empty eyes staring back at me.
He’s been so willing to live in darkness when all he deserves is light. He’s worth everything.
Worth risking everything. If it destroys our world, can I live with that failure, the responsibility of it all?
Yes, for this man. The resolve hardens in me.
I’m not strong, and maybe I’ll doom everyone, but I can’t lose him. It’s my own pathetic weakness for him making this decision, but right now I don’t care.
I choose Sebastian.