Invincible (The Aerling Series Book 3) (19 page)

He doesn’t elaborate. Turning around, he
turns his back on the people who rely on him for answers and motions for us to
follow him. I feel bad for all the Aerlings standing around looking like their
feet have just been cut out from under them, but I don’t envy Cedrick the job
of repairing the damage the truth will cause. He’s done the best he could. The
lies wouldn’t stick forever. I’m sure he knew that, especially when he sent
Mason and Olivia off to stop the Mother, but I doubt he envisioned having to
explain millennia’s worth of lies without time to prepare. How do you come back
from learning that your world is ending? What possible hope can he offer his
people?

Four teenagers who have only a slim chance
of saving anything? No, I don’t envy his position at all.

Chapter 21

Bled Dry

(Olivia)

At least I finally understand why Cedrick
wanted us to repair the barrier. It’s slowly killing their world, but releasing
the Mother will likely kill them all a lot faster…not to mention everyone on
Earth. Knowing that doesn’t really tame my anger much. He should have explained
all of this before. It wouldn’t have changed our willingness to go.
Understanding would have only made it more clear how desperate the situation
is. Instead, Hayden and I are losing three days just to spend a few hours here
to get the answers we should have had from the beginning.

Frustrated beyond belief, I follow behind
Cedrick as I silently fume. I’m sure Hayden is taking this all in with his
usual calm understanding, but he doesn’t try to impose it on me. He knows me
too well for that. Instead of ranting at Cedrick, I try to focus on reassuring
myself that Mason and Sloane are fine and busy figuring out all kinds of things
that will help piece everything together when we make it back to them.

“This is where Tāwhiri imprisoned the
Father after helping to separate his parents,” Cedrick says after stopping in
front of a strangely formidable door.

It looks like a normal, solid wood door.
The intricate carvings and decorative scrollwork are beautiful, but the power
pouring off it makes me wary of even approaching. Turning back isn’t an option,
so I step forward. The heaviness of the power feels oppressive, but at the same
time, familiar. I reach forward to open the door and stop.

“There’s no doorknob,” I say.

Cedrick shrugs. “I told you it wouldn’t do
you much good to come here. There’s no way in. Never has been. Tāwhiri was
the only one who could enter or exit the room, but he’s gone now. I have no way
of letting you speak to the Father.”

This can’t be. We can’t have come all this
way, lost all this time, just to be told there’s no point. We can’t just go
back now with nothing more learned than that the Mother is even more deranged
than we realized. How does that help us? I need
real
answers, and this
door is the only thing stopping me from getting them. I refuse to give up that
easily.

“Tāwhiri may be gone,” I say, “but
his power isn’t. There has to be a way to get in.”

I turn to Cedrick for some kind of hint,
but he only shrugs. “I don’t know how he got in. He visited this place
regularly, but never with anyone else to witness how it was done.”

“It must to react to his power,” Hayden
says as he steps up behind me.

My stomach clenches. “But I don’t know how
to access his power. It’s just sitting there doing nothing.”

“All you can do is try,” Hayden says.

He’s right, but I’m suddenly fearful of
making the attempt. What if it doesn’t work? Will that mean the end to this
mission…failure? Even if it does work, then I have to face one of the most
powerful beings in either of our worlds. He could tell me anything. It could
all be lies, or it could all be true. The truth won’t necessarily make anything
better. The truth could be worse than finding out nothing at all.

Hayden puts his hand gently on my
shoulder. That’s all he does, but it’s enough. The thoughts racing through my
mind slow down. All my focus turns inward, to where Tāwhiri’s power is
nestled around my heart. When I explored Mason, I found his well of power in
his head. At first, I wondered why that was, but I remembered Tāwhiri
saying how my natural empathy led to me becoming a Seeker. Mason has always
been more analytical—underneath his pranking-loving, laid back exterior. He
thinks things through very deeply. If power lends itself toward natural
inclinations, it makes sense that Tāwhiri’s power would choose such
different spots. I feel instinctively that I need to make use of that knowledge,
now.

Reaching forward, I press my hand to the
door. I try not to think about all the questions, the half-answered puzzles, or
the confusion. I can’t think my way through this door. I have to feel it. With
my skin pressed against the wood, knowing the power keeping the Father within
came from Tāwhiri is a simple thing. It resonates beneath my touch,
waiting for an answer.

Strangely, it’s not the Aerlings or humans
or either world that I think about. It’s the Father. I can’t help wondering
what it feels like to be shut up in a place for thousands of years, alone,
secluded, miserable. Here he is, in the middle of a world full of Aerlings, and
he’s alone in this place as a consequence of his greed.

I wonder why he and the Mother ever
created their children if they were so against sharing their power, but then I
remember Sloane mentioning how difficult it’s been for the Aerlings to fulfill
all their duties lately. If all the Aerlings there are can’t keep up with the
demands of being stewards over Earth, it must have taken a lot out of just two
people. They created the first Aerlings to make them slaves. When they
rebelled, they tried to slaughter them. Any sense of sympathy I had for the
Father vanishes, and as it does, the door swings open.

“What did you do?” Hayden whispers.

“Realized what kind of monster we’re
really dealing with,” I reply.

My answer gains me a puzzled look from
Hayden, but I don’t stop to explain. Tāwhiri knew we’d come here. He was
prepared for us to use his power to gain access to the Father, but not without
understanding the depth of evil we’re about to face. Perhaps his plan didn’t
work the way he hoped, but he was a wise ruler.

Hayden and Cedrick are right behind me as
I step through the door, but neither one can get past the jamb. Catching my arm
before I get too far, Hayden growls, “You’re not going in there alone.”

I twist out of his grip and face him. “I
am. The Father won’t be able to hurt me while I hold Tāwhiri’s power.”

“You don’t know that for sure,” he argues.

Taking a step further away from him, I
shake my head. “I’m not going back with nothing.”

He says something else, but I turn away
and keep walking deeper into the strangest room I’ve ever encountered. Despite
having a door set in a seemingly regular hallway, this space has no dimensions.
No walls, either. Or maybe I just can’t see them. Everywhere I look, mists and
ephemeral haze cloud the view. It seems to go on forever. I have no clue where
I’m going other than an instinctive direction to move in. It’s not until I see
a parting in the mists that I have any confirmation that I’m not just wandering
in circles.

Stepping out of the mists a few minutes
later, I gasp in surprise. It’s not just the size of this captive man, but his
youth and striking appearance. He’s easily the most beautiful creature I have
ever seen. Even crouched and weighed down with heavy chains that seem to be
made of air so thickly condensed that they look like glass, this god is easily
at least seven feet tall. Muscles ripple over every part of his body, most of
which is exposed. But like his hateful eyes boring into me, every aspect of his
being is sharp and destructive.

“Who are you to approach me?” he demands.

I don’t answer right away. Instead, I step
to the side and watch his eyes follow me. He postures as if he’s the one in
control, but there is an ocean of fear behind his bravado. “My name is Olivia,”
I say calmly. “Tāwhiri sent me. I’m here for answers.”

He scoffs. “My son thinks his time too
important to spend on me now? He sends a child in his place?”

Smiling inwardly, I realize he has no idea
what happened to Tāwhiri. He probably has no clue at all what’s happening
on Earth or on his own world. Shut up in here, his knowledge is limited to what
he’s told. A hasty plan forms in my mind as I take a few steps closer.

“Do you have a name other than the
Father?” I ask.

“What other name would I need?” he sneers.
“I am the father of all power. There is none greater than me. I have no use for
another name.”

I nod. That was really just something I
was curious about, not part of my plan. There are other things I’m curious
about, but I put them off in favor of getting the most pertinent information.
“Tāwhiri has come to a realization,” I offer.

That seems to pique the Father’s interest,
as I hoped it would. No doubt there has been an ongoing conversation these long
millennia between father and son. My best guess would be Tāwhiri trying to
convince his psychotic father that there’s another way while the Father tried
to convince his son that nothing is worth giving up control and power.

“He can’t beat Tū without your help.”

The Father’s eyes narrow in suspicion.
“Tū? His brother is hardly his biggest problem.”

“No,” I say, “but the Mother will never
bring down the barrier and return to the Aerling world while Tū is
stealing her power.” I swallow hard, hoping this sounds convincing. “He needs
to get rid of Tū before he can attempt reconciling with the Mother, but he
knows he can’t kill him. Taking the same path the Mother did is the only way to
win.” I hope the vagueness of my comments won’t show how little I know.

“Win,” the Father sneers. “There is no way
to win, because this is not a fight that can be won by human or Aerling. Only
power will survive this battle.”

Stepping directly in front of his bound
figure, only a few feet separating us, I say, “Everyone is so concerned about
power. Gaining it, holding it, capturing it, setting it free. You all talk like
you can actually control it, but I think we both know you can’t. No one can.”

“The Mother and I can,” he growls, “were
are the only ones who truly understand the power.”

Shaking my head, I crouch down so we are
eye to eye. “If that were true, you wouldn’t be imprisoned here and the Mother
wouldn’t be exiled to live on the scraps of power left by the few dead Aerlings
not killed by Tū.”

Rearing against his chains, the Father
proves my words true when his strength is crushed under Tāwhiri’s bonds. A
vicious growl erupts from his lips, but it is as impotent as his struggling.
“Tāwhiri cannot win this war!” the Father shouts. “He will never have
enough power to conquer his creators. He came from us, from our power. You are
foolish if you think we would ever give up so much power that we would make
ourselves weak.”

Sitting back on my heels, I can only stare
at him for a few seconds. Slowly, I stand and glare down at him. “Weak? Like you
are now?” My expression is withering, even though I know this man could break
me in two with barely a thought. “The twins, they overpowered you and the
Mother both. You’re not a powerful as you think you are.”

“Twins,” the Father growls, “they were not
expected. They hold less power, shared between them, than our other children.
We didn’t know what that meant, but the next time they try to interfere, we
will be prepared. Control will shift to its rightful masters.”

His words bounce around in my head a moment
before I’m able to piece everything together. Mason and Sloane’s rescue of the
man in the building melds with all my other thoughts, cementing a realization.
Even still, I don’t want to give away what I know just yet.

“If Tū and Tāwhiri had gained the
upper hand here in the Aerling world, instead of on Earth,” I say, hoping I’m
right, “the barrier would have been much different, wouldn’t it have?”

The Father doesn’t answer, but the enraged
look on his face says enough. Neither of the parents knew what Sloane and Mason
discovered, that combining power somehow makes it more than it is on its own. I
suspect that blood connection increases the strange effect, or else the two
brothers never would have been able to overpower their parents. I have no doubt
that they were very careful about how much of their power they gave up to their
children. Their two oldest sons, twins, must have shocked them pretty good when
they discovered that little trick.

“I didn’t come here to discuss how you and
the Mother ended up as you are. I came to find out how you killed your other
children,” I say as calmly as I possibly can when my nerves begin to get the
best of me. This guy is so old, I can’t even process the number. He knows more
than I ever will and has experienced a million lifetimes of deceit and
manipulation. Playing games with him is not a good idea, yet here I am.

The Father’s muscles tighten, but he
pretends at being relaxed. “We cannot kill. You know that, little Escort. Don’t
pretend to understand things that are clearly beyond you.”

That’s all I’ve been doing since the day
we met Robin. “Maybe you didn’t kill them,” I say testily, “but you did enough
to take them out of the game. That means their power was gone. Taken by you or
the Mother somehow. Just like Tū found a way to steal the power he needed
from the both of you, you two found a loophole as well. I want to know what it
is.”

“Desire is not enough.” He sneers at me
and looks away, as if he’s delusional enough to think he’s the one in control
here. He’s not. I won’t let him be. He had his chance to run the show and he
failed miserably, condemning two entire worlds because of his greed and
selfishness!

His arrogance infuriates me when I think
of all the Aerling children who have died, all those that will die when the
barrier falls or both worlds burn themselves out to extinction. Molly’s
pleading eyes flash in front of my face and I am suddenly inundated by the
faces of all the Aerlings who will die because of this creature. Hot, burning
anger wells up inside me, and before I know it, my fist slams into the Father’s
pompous mouth.