Darkest Designs (11 page)

Eric wasn't sure where his end was at. He'd tried to watch Storey, but the multiple facial reactions as she alternately understood or didn't understand what was being said telepathically fascinated him. He wanted to ask questions, but knew he'd slow the process down. It was better to wait it out.

He was happy that something was happening at last. They'd been standing here long enough. He wanted to leave this foggy half world and never come back. But he also wanted to make sure he got everyone home safe. He just didn't know if that was possible yet.

Paxton, once he'd heard Dillon's comment, had been all for the transfer. The Broken One had chosen the stylus most in need, but had emphasized that all needed new souls sooner rather than later.

He snorted at that.

“What Eric?” Storey asked, fatigue showing on her face. “Is something wrong?”

He smiled down at her. She looked so valiant right now, tired and wanting to be anywhere else but here, yet still game to do what she could to help others out. Even if it was dangerous. And he had no doubt it was. He also knew he wouldn't be able to talk her out of it.

She had this belief that she could do anything. So far she had, but life tended to deliver a major reality crash at some point. Not a reality check, but a complete flat out brick-to-the-face realization that you couldn't save everyone or everything.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He tried to keep the worry out of his voice, but her reassuring smile said he hadn't been as successful as he'd hoped.

“I feel like I need to.”

“You don't,” he exploded. “Let someone else do this.”

“Who?” she reached out a palm and cupped his cheek. He leaned into her soft touch. She was the most compassionate, caring female he'd ever known. So giving. And so resourceful. He both admired and cared about her. Too much to let her get hurt.

He'd come here to make sure she got out safe. But what did getting out safe mean if she walked right into another dangerous situation?

“Don't be so worried.” Storey gave his cheek a pat before withdrawing her hand. “I'll be fine.”

He frowned at her. She reached up and kissed his cheek.

“Will you?” he asked, his voice deepening with his heightened emotions, “Because I'm not sure I can take it if you aren't.”

Her beautiful eyes darkened. She stepped back and said, “I will, but I think we need to help Dillon now.”

Eric nodded, his stomach sinking with dread. “Yes, it's time.” He lifted his right arm. “I have the coordinates here on my spare.” He stepped around Storey and unhooked the codex on Dillon's arm and attached the properly coded one. There was a soft snick and it locked in place.

He stepped back, looking for any awareness from Paxton's brother of what was happening. Dillon's eyes were closed and once again he appeared to be sleeping. “Dillon, I've just put a codex on your arm. We're going to send you to the interior of the stylus now.”

Dillon's lids fluttered. He nodded. His mouth opened, the words so faint Eric had to bend closer to hear. The words trickled out. “Not feeling too good.”

Eric could just imagine. This needed to happen fast. Dillon was fading quickly. He shot a warning glance at Storey. He nodded in Dillon's direction. “The codex is set. He's running out of time.”

A frown mingled with the worry twisting Storey's features. “I hope he lasts long enough to make the transition.”

“Yeah, tell me again – how does he leave his body and go into the stylus? I'm just a little confused on that point.”

She grimaced. “Actually so am I. Honestly I'm not sure I want to know, either. If this works then we've saved a life and reunited Paxton with his long lost brother.”

She stepped slightly backwards. “I think we probably need to give him some room.”

Eric lifted a brow, but retreated several steps, staying close to Storey. It was too easy to get lost in the fog. So thick he couldn't see more than a half dozen feet in front of him.

“Okay, now what?”

She looked over at him. And shrugged. “I don't know.”

S
torey, after making sure Eric was what she hoped was a safe distance away, closed her eyes and asked, “What's next?”

Now we need to have Paxton run the program that will separate Dillon from his physical body and send him to the inside of his new stylus.

“I don't understand how this is possible. But if it's the only option…”

It became possible centuries ago, when some of the Toran and Louers developed psychic abilities involving astral travel. Much research and many experiments later, this was a process that could be followed by others.

Her insides locked down at the visual presented in her mind. Storey didn't know what to believe and her experience with styluses had her pondering life…and death. If death was only the end of the physical body in Eric's dimension, as proven by the people soul bound to the stylus, was that the same in her world? Was there something after death?

She didn't have time to work the angles in her mind, but realized at some point she'd have to sit down and clarify what this meant to her. And to her mother. It also showed her how lacking in beliefs she was. Without a strong religious background giving her defining guidelines one way or the other, she hadn't formulated any theories about death and afterlife herself. And now she'd experienced something so foreign to her world, that she knew she'd have no one else to discuss this with down the road. And that was sad.

“Storey?”

She took a deep breath. This so wasn't the time. With an attempt at a reassuring smile, she nodded. “Yes, let's do this.”

The codex on Dillon's wrist started a series of notes that she'd never heard before. The sound achingly sad and heartbreakingly beautiful. Almost funeral. She spun a look at Eric and realized he was just as surprised as she was.

She watched as Dillon slowly appeared to sink in on himself. Fascinating. His features dimmed, his body slowly becoming fuzzy around the edges.

She'd expected the black mist to circle him and it did, but it seemed softer, more cloud like than she'd seen before. Instead of a hard port, dragging the body away to a new dimension, it was baby's breath gentle.

Tears welled up inside as she realized this was the end of Dillon as she'd known him. She could only hope he was traveling to somewhere so much better.

The music slowly faded as if moving a long way away. And it probably was. The fuzzy mist darkened to the point she could barely see anything within its depths.

Eventually the music died altogether. She waited. Would the mist disappear too?

It did, slowly. Dillon appeared to sway in place, then almost in slow motion his body disintegrated with the mist. Leaving nothing behind. Unfreakin' believable. And unfreakin' beautiful.

She was moved beyond tears. A warm hand wrapped around her shoulders.

“Are you okay?”

She smiled tremulously. “Yes. Or at least I will be soon.”

“How long do you think before we know if it was successful?”

She'd like to know that herself.

“Stylus? Do you know if Dillon has arrived?”

He has.

A smile broke free, and Storey released the breath she'd held unconsciously. “Dillon is there.”

“Really?” Eric's happy gasp made her laugh.

“Yes.” Even she could hear the relief wreathing her voice as she asked, “Stylus, is he all right? Is he awake? Talking?”

Not yet. He will need time to acclimatize.

That wiped the smile off. “Any idea how long?” She reached up and squeezed Eric's hand at the worry etched on his features. Again, he couldn't hear all of the conversation. She gave him a thumbs up gesture.

He settled back slightly and waited.

This is an unknown. Depends on how long he needs to recuperate.

“Okay. Let me know, please, when anything changes.”

She turned to Eric and relayed the information.

He shrugged. “We've done what we could for him. Now it's out of our hands. Do you think we can leave?” He looked around and shuddered. “I'd like to get out of here.”

“Me too.” She took a deep breath. “Stylus, what about us? Can we leave now?”

A heavy buzz filled the air.

A quick glance confirmed Eric heard it to. “I presume that's the styluses talking again. Not sure why that hum is so loud.”

“If it helps us escape, I don't mind.”

We don't know if the transfer for the Broken One will work in the physical dimensions.

Uh oh. Her next problem had appeared. “Eric, the styluses are not sure that the Broken One will be able to transfer in the regular dimensions. I believe they think the process might be easier if we do it here. They've always done the stylus transfers from In-between.”

Not easier. But possible.

“Actually, they don't think the transfer can happen at all unless we do it here.”

“So that's next?” His arm fell away, and he took several steps back. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

She took a deep breath. “Okay, Stylus. What do we need to do?”

You don't need to do anything. Except remain calm.

Calm. That so wasn't easy. “Okay. I'm calm. Go ahead.”

We need you to empty your mind. Just relax.

Empty my mind? How is that possible?
she replied mentally, not wanting to worry Eric.

It will be easier for you if you are not trying to follow the process consciously.

Easier how?

There won't be a headache.

As soon as he mentioned the word, pain struck her on the back of the neck. She collapsed to her knees and held her head in her hands. “Ohhh,” she moaned. “My head. It feels like it's going to explode.”

Eric dropped beside her. He held her close. “Is this from the transfer?”

She writhed in place as the headache built higher, pounded louder, heavier.

She buried her face against Eric's shoulder shuddering in pain. “I don't know,” she whispered. “I think so.”

“Jesus.” He leaned his cheek on the top of her head. “How long will this take?”

“No idea.” Then she couldn't speak at all. A small cry escaped her lips. The pressure built and built until she couldn't stand to be touched. She fell back, away from Eric. “Don't…”

“Storey,” he came closer, his hands out in front of him. “Please, tell me. What can I do to help?”

“Don't touch. My nerves. Sensitized.” She gasped loudly. “So much pain.”

“How long? Stylus? How much longer?” Eric shouted. “It's too much. She can't take this.”

She groaned and swayed back and forth still on her knees. “Oh my God. It's getting worse.”

She collapsed to the ground and curled into a tight fetal position.

***

Eric had never felt so helpless. He reached out to touch Storey, then let his hands drop away. If he couldn't help her and couldn't talk to the stylus through her, he still had Paxton. He lifted his codex and sent a message to Paxton, first checking to see about Dillon, then checking to see if he could get answers on Storey.

The wait for a response seemed interminable. When it came, he jumped to read the message.
No idea on Dillon. According to the coordinates, he has arrived. There is mass there. I can see it on the monitor.

“Well, thank heavens for something.”

His codex flashed again.
The transfer is in progress.

“It's killing Storey,” he responded to the empty air. “She's in terrible pain.” There was no point in telling Paxton that. Neither of them could do anything to help. But he might know how long this was going to take. At least it was worth asking. But Paxton's response was no help. He had no idea.

“Damn.”

Right about now, it would help to communicate with a stylus himself. He asked Paxton to check with his stylus.

Paxton wrote back:
I can't communicate with my stylus at this moment. They need everyone right now for this transfer. I don't understand it, but there is a horrific hum to the air.