Morpheus Road 03 - The Blood (13 page)

"What's that?"

"Wherever you end up, I want to be there with you."

Black.

It was all that Marsh could register. There was no up, down, sideways, or in between. There was no sound or sensation. Time had either stopped or was flying by. There was no way to tell. He wasn't even sure if he was conscious . . . until the first sensation returned. He could smell, and the smell wasn't good.

Zoo.
That was his first thought.

He sensed that he was walking upright. On what? Air? His legs were moving but he couldn't feel the ground. Up ahead, he saw the first break in the black. It was a vague slash of gray that cut through the darkness.

As his eyes focused, so did his thoughts. He remem
bered. He had stepped into the Rift that Damon had slashed through his mother's tomb, and had never broken stride. He was still walking. But toward what? The gash ahead looked to be the same as the Rift Damon had created in the mauso
leum. Had he made a U-turn and was headed back home? He had to know, so he stepped through the opening . . .

. . . and into a large, dark enclosure. The floor was dirt. The walls were stone. The animal smell was overpowering. And he wasn't alone.

A low growl came from the shadows on the far side of the enclosure. He had stepped into a dark cell that was used to hold animals. Big animals. Marsh was ready to step back into the Rift when he sensed a presence to his right. He snapped a look to see a large male lion with a thick shaggy mane hunched down, cautiously headed his way.

Stalking him.

Marsh's reaction was to move in the opposite direction, away from the big cat. Unfortunately, it was also away from the Rift. Though his heart rate had gone through the roof, he was smart enough not to make any sudden moves. If he turned to run, the cat would be on him. He moved slowly, scanning for any other animals and, more important, a way out.

The cat's eyes were locked on him, ready to pounce.

"Help," Marsh called out weakly, barely above a whisper.

He didn't want to do anything that might push the cat over the edge. He glanced along the wall to his left to see that a wooden door was cut into the stone wall no more than ten feet away. It seemed like a mile. Marsh's sole focus was to get there.

The lion was twenty feet away and closing with cau
tion and confidence as if it knew there was no way for its prey to escape. It kept moving steadily with its body tense, ready to spring. Marsh had seen the same behavior with his cat, Winston, when it was stalking. Cats were cats, whether their prey was a moth . . . or a man. He knew the lion would spring with no warning. All he could do was keep moving.

A few steps more and Marsh reached the door. He pressed his back against it, and while still facing the lion, he reached around to find a door handle. His hand moved across the rough wood but found nothing. He pushed against the door with his back in the futile hope that it would push open. It didn't.

"Help," he called again, but faintly, for fear it would trigger the attack. "I'm in the lion's cage."

The lion stopped, its eyes locked on Marsh.

Marsh saw its pupils widen and his butt waggle. It was about to pounce.

A vicious roar broke the silence, but it didn't come from
the lion that had been stalking him. Marsh spun quickly to see another lion approaching from the other side.

He was trapped between them. This second lion was a female. Females were the hunters and this one was on the prowl. His only avenue of escape was straight ahead, as futile as that might have been. He pushed himself off the door, ready to sprint across the room to . . . where? But as he pushed off the door, it swung open. The sudden movement threw him off balance and he fell backward, tumbling out of the room.

He felt strong hands grab the back of his shirt to pull him out of the animal pen. He fell hard on his back, outside of the cell. As he hit the dirt floor, he heard the sound of the door slamming shut and the angry roar of the lions who had just watched their meal abruptly snatched from under their noses. The two beasts threw themselves against the door, roaring angrily and scratching at the wood with thick claws.

Marsh focused and looked to see who it was that had saved him.

It was a woman. Her back was to Marsh as she looked through the door's window at the raging lions. She had long, wavy brown hair and wore a khaki work shirt and dark pants.

Zookeeper,
Marsh thought.

"Thanks," he said. "A second later and I'd have been lunch."

The woman stiffened, as if Marsh's voice had the effect of a cold blast of air.

"Where exactly are we?" he asked.

The woman put her hand on the door, bracing herself. "Hey, you okay?" Marsh asked.

"No, I'm not," the woman said. "Because where we are is the Black."

It was Marsh's turn to react. Not because he had learned that he was in the Black. That was the plan. That's where he wanted to be.

It was because he knew the voice.

"Why?" she asked. "Why are you here?"

She turned slowly to face him.

When Marsh saw her, his mouth fell open. He tried to speak but only managed to whisper two simple words. "Hi, Mom."

Ree Seaver ran to her son, dropped to her knees, and threw her arms around him.

Both were in tears.

Marsh felt like a little boy again. Being hugged by his mother was like something out of a wonderfully cruel dream. It was a simple act he had come to accept would never happen again. At least not in life.

The two were locked together for several moments before Ree pulled away to look at her son, holding him at arm's length.

"You grew up," she said through her tears.

"You look the exact same," Marsh replied.

Ree hugged him close again.

"How could you possibly be here?" she asked through her tears. "What happened?"

"I wasn't killed, if that's what you're asking."

Ree tensed up. She pulled away from Marsh, her gaze turning sharp. "What do you mean?"

"I came looking for you. It was my choice."

Ree sat back, confused, trying to wrap her mind around what Marsh was telling her.

"Your choice?" she mumbled. "You committed suicide?"

"No!" Marsh cried quickly. "Jeez! I wouldn't do some
thing like that."

"Then, what do you mean you came looking for me?" she asked, confused.

"I know all about the Black, Mom. And Damon. And the Guardians. Cooper told me everything."

His explanation only served to further confuse her. "Cooper told you? How is that possible?"

"The Watchers allowed him to be seen and heard by me in the Light. His sister can see him too."

"The Watchers allowed that?" she asked, incredulous. Marsh nodded quickly.

"So you know about the Black," she said. "Which means you know there's only one way you can get here, and that's to die."

"Well, yeah, I guess but that's not exactly what happened."

"You aren't making sense, Marshall."

"I got here the same way you did."

Ree tried to let his words sink in, but still didn't under
stand.

"You couldn't have," Ree declared. "I got here by com
ing through a Rift that doesn't exist anymore."

Marsh stood and helped his mother to her feet.

"I'm sorry to have to tell you this. Damon created another one."

Ree backed away from him, shaking her head in dis
belief.

"No. That's impossible. To do that he'd need the poleax and there's no way he could have . . ." She didn't finish her thought. She looked to Marsh, giving him the same stern look she always did when she wanted the complete truth and wouldn't stand for anything less.

"What happened?" she asked coldly.

Marsh had trouble looking directly at her. He was once again a little boy who had to answer to his mother for some
thing he probably shouldn't have done.

"I took charge," he answered, going on offense. "Damon wasn't going to give up until he found the poleax. You know that. We all did. It was only a matter of time before he got it, and I wanted Coop to have it first so he could use it against Damon."

"So what did you do?" Ree persisted, fearing the answer.

"I found it," Marsh declared. "It was in your tomb. Ennis
put it there along with a crucib
le to protect it. But I acciden
tally broke the crucible when I smashed open the crypt and—"

"You broke into my tomb?" Ree asked, aghast.

"I was pretty sure you weren't in it. I wanted Coop to have the poleax and put an end to this guy."

Ree took a deep breath, trying to control her anxiety. "You weren't in it, by the way," Marsh said softly. "It was some guy."

"Some guy," Ree echoed, dumbfounded.

Marsh continued. "When the crucible broke, Damon showed up. Neither of us could stop him. He got the poleax."

"
And he opened a new Rift," she declared, the truth finally coming clear.

Marsh nodded.

"And you came through."

"I came looking for you."

Ree leaned back against the stone wall of the wild ani
mal enclosure.

"So you
did
commit suicide," she declared. "And Damon has the poleax. This isn't your finest hour, Marsh."

"Maybe not, but I'm going to make it right," Marsh stated boldly. "Damon doesn't care about us anymore. He's moved on. That's a mistake. Coop already found Zoe and Maggie and his grandfather and took them to Zoe's vision. They're going to bring the Guardians back together and—"

"Wait. What? Cooper found the others?"

"Yes. He took them to Zoe's vision." He glanced around the stone corridor and added, "Wait, is this where
they were? Ancient Rome?"

"Somebody's vision of ancient Rome. We're in the bow
els of the Colosseum. I haven't left because Damon threat
ened to destroy the others if I did."

"See?" Marsh declared. "They're long gone. Damon doesn't care about us anymore now that he's got the poleax."

Ree's mind raced. "This is . . . this is just wrong. Marsh, you are going back through the Rift. Maybe it's not too late to get your life back."

"No! I came here to help you."

"You killed yourself, Marsh! Do you understand that? You are dead!"

"I know how it works, Mom. I probably know more than
you
do. Did you know that Damon is hunting for some guy named Brennus?"

"No. Who is that?"

"I don't know, but I'm going to find out. I'm staying."

"And do what? Marsh, I love you for trying to help but you've made some serious mistakes."

"I know. It's my fault Damon has the poleax, but I truly believe he would have gotten it anyway. The guy is ruthless. He haunted Ennis until he couldn't take it anymore and . . ." His voice trailed off.

"What happened to Ennis?" Ree asked with trepidation.

"Damon was torturing him. It was horrible. He didn't have a crucible for protection because he wanted me to have it."

"Is he dead?" Ree asked, incredulous.

Marsh nodded gravely. "I think death was a relief."

Ree winced. "My god, this is never going to end."

"Yes, it is," Marsh declared. "Damon thinks we're done.
He won't see us coming."

The sound of a trumpet fanfare blasted from the arena above.

"What's that?" Marsh asked, looking up.

Several soldiers ran past them along an adjoining cor
ridor.

Ree said. "Something's going on up in the arena."

"Maybe we should see," Marsh said. "It could be Damon."

He started after the soldiers but Ree held him back. "No," she commanded. "I want you to go back through the Rift."

Marsh didn't pull away. He stood his ground and looked his mother square in the eyes.

"Damon cut the Rift into this vision for a reason," he said with authority. "I'm going to find out what it is."

Ree searched her son's eyes, looking for the little boy she had left so long ago. All she caught was a faint, familiar glimpse that was quickly lost in the years she had missed and the horrors he'd seen.

"C'mon, Mom," Marsh cajoled. "I died for this."

Ree's eyes grew watery and she hugged her son once again.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered.

"It's okay. Be glad I'm here."

"Don't see that happening." She wiped her eyes, stood tall, and said, "C'mon."

She headed off and the two made their way through the
labyrinth of tunnels that made up the underworld of the
Flavian
Amphitheater.

Marsh didn't allow himself the luxury of stopping to marvel at the impossibility of it all. Though he was fasci
nated to see the Colosseum the way it actually existed in ancient Rome, he wanted to stay focused on the challenges ahead. He allowed himself one fleeting thought about the incredible dimension he had landed in: He promised him
self that once he finished Damon, he'd come back and take full advantage of being in the Black. That is, if Damon didn't finish him first.

Ree led Marsh up a series of ramps until they found themselves standing under an arched tunnel that led to the arena.

"Oh man," Marsh gasped. As much as he had heard about how visions in the Black worked, he wasn't prepared for the sight in front of him.

It was night. The Colosseum was dark but the full moon cast enough light to illuminate details of the immense sta
dium.

"We're really here," he gasped. "It's the Colosseum."

"It's somebody's vision of the Colosseum," Ree corrected.

All four levels of seating that ringed the arena were dark. Marsh thought they were empty, until he saw a flame flicker to life. Followed by another and another. All around the stadium, flames ignited. Thousands of them. What at first looked like an empty stadium was soon revealed to be completely packed with people, each person holding their own burning candle. Marsh couldn't make out any of the faces, or details, but he assumed they were the same people from many eras that Cooper had described.

"It's like a vigil," Ree whispered.

Nobody spoke. The eerie silence sent a chill up Marsh's spine.

"Coop was right," he whispered. "I feel like I'm still alive."

Ree put an arm around his shoulders. She was surprised to see that he had grown taller than her.

Another trumpet fanfare sounded, heralding the entrance of a lone rider on horseback. He appeared through a tall arch
way, carrying his own flaming torch.

"Damon," she said, barely whispering.

Though Damon of Epirus was in full battle dress, his squat frame didn't give him the air of a formidable warrior.

If not for the weapon that was strapped to his waist, he would have looked like a sad pretender wearing a costume. The weapon proved otherwise.

"He's got the poleax," Marsh said.

The black horse pranced into the arena as the trumpets continued their fanfare.

The crowd watched in silent reverence.

Damon rode to the dead center of the ring and spun his horse slowly so that he could see the entire assemblage . . .

and they could see him. The light from the thousands of flames glistened on his horse's shiny black coat. Satisfied, he raised his free hand and the trumpets fell silent. Damon let the drama build for a few seconds more, then shouted for all to hear.

"You have been patient," he called, his voice echoing through the massive stadium. "We have all been patient and
you will soon be rewarded. We have been thrown together by fate and given the opportunity to take charge of our own destiny. Our own futures. Our own eternity. We have been controlled by an unjust, uncaring power for too long."

He spun his horse in a tight circle, allowing each and every spirit to get a good look at him. To admire him.

Marsh whispered to his mother, "What is he talking about?"

Ree replied, "He's got these people convinced that they shouldn't accept being judged by the Watchers."

"I thought the Watchers were all about rewarding those who work on becoming better people."

Ree shrugged. "They are."

"And Damon doesn't like that?"

"Damon doesn't give a damn, but he's got his followers all worked up about it. He preys on those who have been in the Black the longest and fear they'll never get the chance to move on."

Damon rode back to the center of the arena.

"But freedom will not come easily," Damon Continued. "For that, we must fight."

"Fight who?" Marsh asked Ree. "Who is their enemy?"

Damon bellowed, "I swear to you that when we are done, the oppression that has existed for centuries will no lon
ger hold sway over us. Our future will be what we choose, whether we prefer to remain in our visions in the Black, or return to life in the Light."

Marsh and Ree looked to each other.

"He's going to do it," Marsh said soberly. "He's going to bring them all back into the Light. But they'll be wiped out by modern weapons."

"Of course," Ree answered. "But the damage will have been done. The Morpheus Road will have been blown wide open."

Damon reached to his waist, grasped the poleax, and raised it high over his head.

Finally the crowd erupted with the massive explosion of cheers that they had been holding back. A pent-up wave of emotion took over that shook the stadium to its stone foundation.

"There aren't enough Guardians to stop them," Ree declared.

Damon dropped his torch, silencing the crowd.

"If we are to succeed in breaking down the barriers that have held us prisoner, we must be willing to move in every direction and include all spirits. We are not alone. Before we fight, our numbers need to grow. They
must
grow. I will call upon those who stand the most to gain and invite them to join us. By standing together with our brothers and sisters who have been punished so unfairly, we will ensure our vic
tory and our freedom."