Scala (21 page)

Lincoln wraps his arm around me, pulling me back up onto my feet. “You need to turn away, Myla.”

“I can't. Not yet.”

He stands in front of me, blocking my view of Adair. “Whatever happened with you, Adair and your igni, it's never taken place before in the history of the after-realms. There are no rules or guarantees here, Myla. You need to get your powers back, now.”

My eyes open wide with shock. I always assumed that with Adair gone, my igni would return. The surprised feeling turns into jolts of adrenaline and panic. It's true. My powers could easily go to a new Scala Heir instead. And I have an iconigration to do first thing tomorrow morning.

I walk away from Adair and find a quiet spot by an old, arching tree. Closing my eyes, I reach out to my igni. “Hey, guys.”

I pause, waiting for the sweet music or cacophonous chatter that means they hear my summons.

There's nothing. Only silence.

Fresh pangs of panic run through me. Every muscle in my body seems to constrict with worry.

Come on. I still have some igni left. Not many, but enough to give some kind of answer to my call. By now, at least a few igni voices should be echoing inside my head. My stomach twists with anxiety. Unholy Hell, what if when Adair took my igni, she parted them from me forever?

I set my palms onto my eyes and press hard. “Where are you?”

Still, no reply.

I focus deep within me, finding the emptiness and grief where power once saturated my soul. I sense a handful of igni hiding there. Frightened. Lost. Hurt. They're rarely separated from each other, let alone from their chosen Scala. I'd never thought about it before, but it was a brave and terrible thing for them to leave me for Adair.

The few igni I have left now sing a reedy song to me, telling me how their brothers and sisters are lost in the darkness. Abandoned. Afraid. Separated.

I raise my arms, close my eyes, and begin to speak to them all. “I'm here, my little ones. Find me. My soul is your home.”

The music in my mind grows louder. An electric charge fills the air. My powers are getting closer now, gathering invisibly in the cavern around me. Excitement makes my heart drum faster.

I reach out to my igni with all the love in my heart. “Come back to me and I'll never let you go again, not while I've breath in my body. You are my children. I am your Scala. Hear me.”

This time, they hear my call and how. Both light and dark igni instantly appear, the powers that draw souls to both Heaven and Hell. The dark cavern
becomes blindingly bright as millions of tiny lightning bolts hover in the air. Joy pulses through my bloodstream.

That's it. Come home.

With an ear-splitting crack, the igni move toward me in a web of lighting, all aiming for my hands, the point where they were pulled to Adair in the first place. As the igni reenter through my palms, every cell in my body becomes flooded with strength and power. My skin glows with their energy. A sense of bliss and peace overtakes me. My returned power pulls me upwards, rising my body a few feet off the floor. Beams of light shoot out from my fingertips, eyes and legs, sending another flash of brightness throughout the cave.

I land back on my feet, feeling awesome. The power has returned to its nesting-spot inside my soul. I wrap my arms about Lincoln's neck; he spins us about and laughs.

I lean my head back and watch the grey ceiling whirl overhead. A mix of emotions spin through me as well. There's the elation of victory, the delightful fire of shared love, and the soul-calming serenity of having my igni returned. It's a moment some part of me will cherish and relive forever.

“What a team.” Lincoln resets me onto my feet, smiling in a way that warms me through and through. “And now, comes the fun part.”

I pace inside a long stone corridor that opens onto the Arena floor. Pacing is definitely my thing when I'm nervous, and today, I'm pretty anxious. It's not a bad sort of worry, though. My first iconigration will begin in a few minutes and man, am I pumped.

Nearby, all of Purgatory's Senators wait in neat rows, ready to process out onto the stadium floor. Inside the Arena, the stands are packed for the ceremony. The low, happy roar of the crowd reminds me of my old battling days. So great to be back in the Arena again.

My friends and family stand close by as well. There's Mom in her purple suit and sash of office, Xavier in his dress armor with wings on display, Walker in his long black ghoul-robes, Cissy in her Senator's get-up, and Lincoln in his classic Princely ensemble. As for me, I'm wearing my Scala robes and an ear-to-ear grin.

First iconigration. Can't wait.

Cissy rushes towards me, her purple Senatorial robes swaying with her quick steps. She wraps me in a huge hug. “I'm so proud of you, quasi girl.” She waves to the Alchemists, who return the gesture. “They're super-excited to be part of the ceremony, by the way.”

“Of course. We couldn't have done it without them. Or you.” I kiss her on the cheek.

“Any time, quasi girl.” She steps back and straightens her robes. “Can you be ready in two minutes?”

“Surely.”

Cissy runs off as Lincoln slips up behind me. He sets his long arms around my waist and speaks low into my ear. “You look gorgeous.”

“Thanks.” I rub my palms together greedily. “I can't believe it's here. My first iconigration.” Most of the souls in storage had already been through Trial by Jury or Trial by Combat. Now that the Orb's gone, I can move them to wherever their verdict had placed them, which is mostly Heaven. There's one exception, however.

Adair.

Although she sold her soul to Armageddon, I can still try to send her to Heaven. It's not an easy thing to do, but a strong Scala can override certain kinds of magical bindings on a soul. Few things are as powerful as Lucifer's Orb, and I've bested Armageddon in the past, so there's a good chance I could break his hold on Adair.

Lincoln gently kisses my head. “Still want to hold back Adair for questioning?”

“Are you kidding? Absolutely.”

I'm willing to bet that Adair will trade an eternity in Heaven for help with our investigation of Acca. Taking over the transport platforms, losing the betrothal jewels, providing guards at Mercor Temple…Adair didn't act alone. Now, Lincoln and I want information.

Out in the stadium, the orchestra strikes up the processional. Inside our hallway, all of Purgatory's dignitaries start marching out onto the Arena floor: Senators, Alchemists, Cissy, my parents, Walker, Lincoln, and me. Keeping in formation, we cross the grounds, ending in a long semicircle that stretches across the stadium floor.

My tail bounces happily behind me. It likes iconigrations almost as much as I do.

Once we're all in place, Mom steps into the empty center of our semicircle and tosses her head. Suddenly, she's no longer my mother, but President Lewis extraordinaire. She raises her right hand; the stadium falls silent. “Tonight, it is my honor to introduce my daughter, Myla Lewis, the Great Scala. You all know her as the supernatural warrior who fought off Armageddon and his ghouls from our lands. More recently, you know how tirelessly she's battled to keep innocent souls from being sent to Hell. And I'm sure you've all seen this morning's headlines. My daughter saved us from Armageddon, once again!” She claps in my direction and the crowd goes wild, tails wagging everywhere. Adair's possession has been all over the news. I am the undisputed Great Scala once again.

Signs appear in the crowd, and unlike my ride to the press conference at the Thrax Embassy, this time they're all pretty sweet. My favorites say ‘No curse, all awesome,' ‘quasi Scala=best Scala' and ‘Myla Lewis, protector of souls'.

Mom circles her hands towards her chest, encouraging the crowd to continue cheering. I take a moment to allow their roar to wash over me. Mom always says that when it comes to ruling, the happy moments are always far shorter than the ones filled with fright, worry and despair. So, you must take time to really enjoy the cheers. Thanks to my mother, the applause goes on and on. In short order, my face actually hurts from smiling.

At length, Mom raises her hand, signaling for silence. The crowd quiets down. “So, without further ado, we'll begin the first-ever iconigration from our new Great Scala.”

I step over to my parents, give them both big hugs, and take my place in the center of semi-circle as the ceremony's main attraction. The spotlight hits me, making me wince. The audience falls absolutely silent. Excitement and adrenaline zing through my bloodstream.

I so love this.

Raising my arms, I summon the igni with my mind. At my call, black clouds roll across the horizon. The Arena darkens. An odd mist coats the stadium floor. Blasts of childlike laughter and metallic discord take over my mind.

Okay, this is different from anything I saw the Old Scala do before. But the Old Scala never moved this many souls at once, so I suppose there should be a few surprises.

I sense light and dark igni materializing, but not around my hands, like the usually do. So, where have those little buggers gotten to now?

Looking up, I see the igni's tiny bodies spinning inside the rolling storm clouds overhead. Within seconds, they've formed a great whirlpool of light that stretches across the darkened sky. Bit by bit, the center of this igni-whorl lowers towards the stadium's ground. I stare in awe at my creation, finding it hard to breathe.

This is some kind of igni-tornado. Who even knew this was possible?

The igni speed faster inside, their lights flashing within a cone of dark cloud. As the tornado's peak touches the Arena floor, it pauses, shivers, and then keeps moving downwards. An inverted tornado forms under the stadium's grounds, a perfect match to the one reaching up into the sky. Soon, its depths sparkle with red flickering light.

I've seen that glow before: it's the fires of Hell.

I watch these twin tornadoes of light, my skin prickling with shock. Normally, the igni create one soul column for every spirit. But this time, the igni have formed the Mother of all soul columns, a giant hourglass-shape that reaches from Hell right to Heaven. The thin neck between these two extremes is a small circle of earth on the Arena floor that's directly in front of me. A strange electric charge fills the air. The growing speed of the igni sends wind whipping through my hair and Scala robes.

I nip my lower lip with worry, wondering if I should pull up stakes and try again. Whatever this shape is, I've never heard of a Scala summoning it before. However, the igni could care less about my concerns. They were trapped with some wacko, and now the little critters are on a roll, so happy to be back with their proper Scala, doing their proper work. In the neck of the hourglass—the eye of the dual-tornado—an image starts to appear. It's an old man, bent with age whose long white beard falls to his toes.

My mouth falls open with shock and recognition. I'd know that guy anywhere. It's Maxon Bane, the Old Scala. I haven't seen him since he gave me his powers and the igni sent him to Heaven. Who knew he'd show up today? His mismatched eyes meet mine and the old scoundrel winks. He mouths two words: good work.
Pride swells inside me. The Old Scala zapping back here for a complement? Now, that's cool stuff.

I close my eyes and my mind flickers through images of thousands of men, women and children…Quasi, thrax and human alike. These are the souls to be moved. My consciousness reaches into their spirits, sensing their lives and history. Millions of moments flow through me, all the courageous, lovely and terrible episodes that make up a life. Every timeline converges at a single point: Purgatory. Trial by Jury or Trial by Combat caps all their lives, and my mind flows through millions of verdicts. Most I agree with, and I move the soul accordingly.

However, I do override one verdict. Adair's. I make sure to set her aside for later. She was awarded Hell, but I won't send her there. At least, not yet.

I reopen my eyes, and see my handiwork come to life inside the Soul Column. Where Maxon Bane once stood, now there is a morphing image of millions of different bodies. All of them appear and disappear within milliseconds, creating a single morphing figure, the soul icon, which holds every spirit that needs to be moved. With another flash of light, the icon splits into two, just as I'd divided them. One version rises up towards Heaven; the other tumbles down into Hell.

Above us, the clouds flare with white light as Heaven accepts its icon of souls. In the stadium's floor, a red light blazes as Hell receives its spirits. The lightning-tornadoes let off similar blasts of brilliant light, white above and red below. Both swirling forms deliver a fireworks-style explosion that leaves us all seeing spots.

In between these two brightly-lit tornadoes, at ground zero, one soul remains, waiting to be moved. My heart leaps into my throat.

Before me stands Adair.

Lincoln's speeds my side, his unreadable-face firmly on. “Hello, Adair.”

Her body appears misty in form. Other than that, she looks as I last saw her: long blonde hair, pretty face and Scala robes. Her face twists into a scowl as she recognizes Lincoln and me.

“Come to gloat?” asks Adair. “What a shock.”

“No, we've come with an offer,” I explain. “Above you is Heaven, below you is Hell. I have the power to send you to either.”

“No you can't. I sold my soul to Armageddon.”

“Last time I checked, I can kick his ass pretty easily. I'm willing to bet that I can move you wherever I want. Only one way to find out, Adair.”

“And what do you want in exchange?”

“Information,” says Lincoln. “Who's been supporting you? What are their plans? How did you get Armageddon's blood? I want names, places, anything you can remember.”

“Never. I'll take Hell.”

The memory of Adair's broken body appears in my mind. I didn't want to kill her mortal self; I certainly don't want to sentence her soul to an eternity of pain and torture.