Summoned Chaos (30 page)

Through the blinding light I could just make out a silhouette in the unmistakable outline of Skilled robes. The second shadow was seated beside her.

“We’re in place,” I whispered into my phone.

“Still moving,” Arbent replied. “What’s the situation?”

“Rancin is hanging out in front of the rift.” I squinted, nearly blinded by the blue beams emanating from the phenomenon. The second form moved. “Father Pierce appears alive. That’s about all I can make out.”

“Jethrow,” Arbent said, “give me an update on the Elders.”

“En route. Maybe another five to ten minutes.”

Rancin hadn’t killed Father Pierce yet, so hopefully we had that much time.

Quinn cocked her head, her face serious. “Listen.”

Something shrieked. It was a haunting, soulful wail that made my bowels tremble.

“What the hell?” I muttered.

Quinn and I peeked around the corner of the statue. The rift pulsed brighter, the blue light flashing like a disco ball.

My stomach sank into my shoes.

Several creatures burst from the blue portal.

They sailed through the air, landing among the headstones with a thunderous boom.

I stared in horror. These were nothing like the beasts we encountered in Maryland. Instead of blue-gray fur and horns, these creatures were covered with small, green scales. They had long, spiked tails, talonlike feet and elongated snouts filled with rows of sharp teeth.

The creatures sniffed the air, then turned and charged Rancin. For a split second I wondered if the beasts would solve our problem for us, but she halted them by raising a hand. She appeared to say something, then pointed. The beasts hissed and sprinted in the direction they were commanded.

Bile burned in my stomach. “I hate being right.”

Quinn paled. “We need to report this to the team.”

I pulled my phone out of the folds of my robe, cursing the stupid outfit. “Hey, gang, a pack of dangerous beasts just emerged from the rift and is heading west through the cemetery. Someone needs to stop them.”

“We’re on it,” Thetra replied.

“Jethrow, where the hell are the Elders?” I demanded.

“Coming,” he replied.

I swallowed, staring at the portal. Fear pounded in my veins with the beat of my heart. “Guys, we’re out of time. We need to close this door immediately.”

“So much for planning,” Arbent grumbled. “We’re almost in position. Marcus, if you’re ready, hit the rift with everything you’ve got. We’ll focus on Pierce and Rancin.”

I grimaced. “Will do.” I shoved the phone back into my robe, then turned to Quinn. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

“I’m scared too.” Then she gave me a small kiss on the lips. “We just need to have a little faith.”

Faith was good.

A Daisy Cutter would have been better.

We both leaned around the statue and powered up our spells. Quinn beat me to the punch, swinging her sword overhead and swiping it downward. The blast of wind raced across the distance, colliding with the rift a second before my Air Spell.

Blue sparks exploded from the surrounding area as both our spells slammed into a massive, defensive barrier. The shield absorbed the impact of our Skill, then reflected it with a massive shockwave. The concussion threw us backward onto the ground. The statue above us cracked while smaller headstones around us shattered.

My ears rang as the thunder from the explosion echoed through the cemetery. The world tilted, but I forced myself to my feet. I blinked, trying to focus on the shadows by the rift. Rancin lifted Pierce as if he weighed nothing, then bolted—sprinting away like a cheetah.

“Marcus!” Quinn shouted, but her voice was muffled. She appeared next to me, sliding an arm around my waist to steady me.

“You okay?” she asked as my hearing returned.

I nodded, but realized her eyes were no longer on me.

Instead, they were staring in horror at the rift. I followed her gaze. The portal began pulsing faster once more while icy winds rushed from the opening. The intensity of the blue light increased, climaxing in a blinding flash as another beast was vomited onto our plane of existence. Several more flashes were followed by additional creatures. All of them followed in the wake of their Summoner.

“Jethrow, Rancin has Pierce and is headed west,” I shouted into my phone. I didn’t wait for a response.

I shoved the phone in my pocket and launched myself at the portal. Quinn was on my heels.

Arbent and Mick appeared over the hill to our right as another beast entered our world. Arbent charged the animal, clearing the distance in the blink of an eye. He swung his staff overhead, driving the pointy end through its skull. The beast twitched once, then went still.

“We need to seal this!” he said, but dove out of the way as several more invaders bounded through the opening.

Rather than fleeing, they turned toward Arbent.

“I’ll help Arbent,” Quinn shouted. “You lock this thing down!” She raised her sword and threw herself at the attacking beasts.

I sank to my knees, pressing one hand against the dirt by my feet. I closed my eyes, searching desperately for the root system of the nearby foliage. The moment I found it, I created a connection. The trees were hesitant at first—recoiling in fear. The unnatural beasts were blights on this realm, unwelcome in the eyes of the old souls of the wood. I called to them, begging for their help in cleansing the animals from the earth. One by one they acquiesced, bonding themselves to me.

My heartbeat quickened as the solid, sturdy strength of the trees poured in to me. The power swelled, intensifying my Skill with the steady force of the woods, a power that had existed for decades. I drew upon the trees, bottling their might until I could hold no more.

When the energy coursing in my veins threatened to detonate, I ripped my hand skyward.

Hundreds of roots exploded from the ground in a shower of dirt and wood. They carved long, shallow trenches which raced toward the rift from all directions. I felt a pang of guilt as headstones overturned and bodies that had been resting at peace for centuries were disturbed, but I refused to release my control. Instead, I focused on the roots as they headed toward their destination.

A second later, the soggy, gnarled stems slammed into the rift like a freight train. Raw, unnatural energy exploded in a shower of blue lightning bolts as the pure element of our world encased the cold tear like a giant claw. The air around us vibrated as the two forces crashed against one another.

The wood froze and shattered, showering the ground with petrified shards while the edges of the rift wavered and changed to a darker shade of blue.

The feedback plowed into my own Skill. Sharp, frigid energy fought against me. Pain erupted behind my eyes, but I held firm, forcing more power into the spell.

There was another violent explosion as a beast transitioned through the portal, crashing instantly into the root-cocoon. It shrieked and recoiled, slashing at the wooden claws with fury. More petrified shards fell to the ground and cracks began to form in the root system.

I reached for the trees, but could feel them weakening with each passing second.

“I’m getting real tired of this,” I muttered, and ran the blade of my sword across my forearm. The skin parted neatly and blood leaked onto the metal. The blade ignited with red light as the runes glowed brightly. The heat that radiated from the sword was a stark contrast to the icy cold pumping out of the rift.

If one element was powerful, two would certainly do the trick.

I hoped.

Another distant hiss filtered through the vibrating portal, so I wasted no time. I jammed my blade into the skull of the trapped lizard—killing it instantly. Black blood poured from the wound, spilling on the ground below, and turning it brown immediately.

With the beast dead, I grabbed a hold of the air around me, then pushed with all my might. The small concussion raced between the root-cocoon, shoving the dead animal back to the plane where it belonged.

Once the portal was cleared, I stabbed the bloody tip of my blade into the upper right-hand corner of the rift. The edge screeched, recoiling as my essence made contact.

The presence I’d felt in Maryland flinched, screaming as I pushed the blade harder, grabbing the cleanly cut frame with my Skill.

As much as I wanted to confirm the imprint, I’d learned my lesson last time. No more wasting time.

Despite the rigidity of the rift, grasping the edge was like trying to hold wet, angry spaghetti in my hand. It twisted and wiggled, fighting my control.

Unlike the rift in Maryland, however, I was emboldened by my connection to the trees and maintained my grasp.

Slowly, carefully, I drew the edge toward the lower left corner.

Halfway to my destination, another hiss—this time much closer than before—distracted me and I lost my concentration. The edge slipped from my control and, like a rubber band pulled tight, sprang back to its original position.

I cursed, gripped the edge again, and slowly eased it downward once more.

The hissing on the other side of the rift grew louder, causing my heart to thunder in my chest. Through the waving blue opening I could see misty silhouettes beginning to take form.

The objects coalesced into sprinting mounds of ethereal haze, closing the distance between us with frightening speed. I had a glimpse of unnatural legs and talons a split second before the rift burst open with a shockwave of cold air.

The blast threw me backward. I stumbled, but somehow maintained my feet. I heard a snarl and looked up in time to see a flash of green scales.

The beast slammed into me, knocking me to the ground. I landed hard, bouncing my head off the soft dirt of the cemetery. The beast lunged, snapping for my throat, but I swung my bloody forearm up in time to intercept the beast’s snout. I screamed in agony as sharp teeth punched through my skin. Pain exploded across my arm as the creature shook its head from side to side.

With the pain, however, came raw, unfiltered energy.

Combined with my connection to the trees, power coursed through me like a live wire. It sizzled and popped, begging to be released.

I gladly obliged.

Without thinking, I gripped the earth below me and launched my fist upward.

A symbiotic dirt hand raced from the ground, plowing into the beast like a missile.

The creature released my arm, grunting as I drove another fist into it. I heard something crack underneath the thick hide and the beast staggered sideways.

My Skill boiled like a cauldron, but I fought the urge to let the rage consume me. Instead, I thought of all those who had been injured or threatened because of me. Steve, Tessa and Mike, Quinn, Dad. All of them had been affected in some way by collateral damage. I’d allowed my emotions to run wild for too long and those I’d loved had paid dearly.

It was time to stop reacting. Stop being the victim.

I focused on the torrent of renewed energy swirling inside me, shaping it from raging inferno to a single, razor-like flame.

Control the power.
Own it.

The creature charged. I stood, spun around it, then drove the blade downward through the beast’s skull. It flopped to the ground and remained still.

Another lizard rocketed through the rift, but I reached up with my earthen hand, grabbed it in midair, and crushed it in my fist. Bone, blood and sinew became one in my grip. There was no excitement with the kill, only the calculated strike to end its life. I squeezed again, then flung the useless corpse to the side like a rag doll.

A third was bisected with a single swipe of my blade.

Precision.
Discipline.

This was what I’d been missing for so long. What I’d truly lost with the atrophy of my powers. What I’d craved to regain.

The rift began to pulse once more. I stabbed my bloody sword into it, forcing the edges closed with all my might. The imprint hidden in the portal screamed, but I ignored it. Closing the rift was the only thing that mattered now. Icy winds blasted me as I constricted the opening—biting my skin. Then the cold vanished.

The edges stitched together—leaving the warmth and humidity of D.C. in September.

A calm settled over the cemetery, punctuated by the distant thunder of magic. Spells flashed to the west of me—lighting the night sky like fireworks.

I started toward them, desperate to provide support, but pain overran my adrenaline. My skin hung in ragged tatters while blood fell like a waterfall to the ground. I wobbled, then my knees gave out.

At least the ground was soft.

“Healer!” Quinn shouted, racing to me.

I gazed up into her wet eyes. “You okay, babe?” I slurred. “You’re pale.”

“I’m fine. You’re the one who’s hurt.”

The world spun. “Yeah, I don’t feel too hot.”

Mick appeared, kneeling beside me. He gingerly rotated my ruined arm, then grimaced. “This is going to hurt a lot, Marcus.”