Sunrise(Pact Arcanum 2) (23 page)

“Understood.”

“Firing solution calculated and locked. Awaiting launch code for gravity pulse deployment.”

“Stand by. Keep this channel open and await further instructions.” Ana leaned forward and watched the body on the floor. “Showtime.”

Elsewhere

Take turned away from the battle again. “You said you let Nick feed on you.”

Rory nodded, his eyes on Nick, who danced aside from Reaper and attacked again with his cutlass.

“Nemesis said First Blood makes a link between a vampire and his victim. Can you use that connection to pass more power and skill to Nick?”

Rory looked sidelong at Take. “I don’t have anything left.”

“But I do.”

Rory’s eyes widened. “You want me to feed off you and give that to Nick?”

“Can you do it?”

“Take,” said Rory, “I almost never feed off the vein, especially when I have a strong emotional attachment in place. I might not be able to stop. Even though we’re just spiritforms here, I could still kill you.”

Take looked at Nick, who was obviously tiring. “There’s not much time, Rory.”

Rory swallowed. “Are you sure?”

“Do it.”

Leaning forward, Rory extended his fangs and gently bit down on Takeshi’s neck, feeding deeply as he drained power from the Sentinel. The Nightwalker focused the bridge away from his triad brother’s emotions, so he wouldn’t be distracted by their shared history. Instead, he drew out the skills and abilities of Take’s Gift of Earth and the tactical knowledge and experience of years as the Speaker for the Watch. Eventually, he drew back, leaving Take weak and gasping in his arms, and turned his senses toward the fighting vampires.

He waited until he saw Nick drop beneath Luscian’s horizontal slash and roll temporarily out of reach, then Rory slammed Luscian off his feet with a telekinetic attack. As Nick blinked at the unexpected respite, Rory sent him everything that he had gained from Take, all at once. Nick staggered back as Luscian regained his feet. The Prince of Nightmares glared at Rory and Take, now lying practically incapacitated next to each other, before turning his attention back to Nick.

“Bah.” Luscian leveled his sword at Nick. “I grow tired of this, boy. Surrender, and I will kill you quickly.”

Nick stood straight and smiled at him. He dropped Rory’s cutlass, and the holy flames extinguished. “I’m tired of this, too, Father,” he said quietly. Then he put out both hands. Immediately, a katana and wakizashi appeared in them, molded out of pure fire. “Why don’t we start over?”

Nick leapt forward in attack, faster than he had been before. He quickly drove Luscian backward, his movements faster and faster as he blurred around Luscian’s desperate counterstrikes. Finally, he knocked the Nightwalker’s sword to the side and used his short blade to chop down through Luscian’s right arm. Seeing an opportunity, he immediately raised his katana to slice into Luscian’s chest.

Luscian screamed and collapsed, Reaper tumbling to the ground beside him. While he lay gasping for breath, Nick stood over him.

“No,” Luscian croaked. “I will not die like this: at the hands of my own miserable fledgling!”

Nick kicked Reaper farther away and watched it fade then put his katana to Luscian’s throat. “I win, Father. I could cut your head off right now if I wanted to,” he growled, his eyes blazing red and his fangs extended.

“So go ahead.” Luscian’s eyes slitted in hatred. “Finish it.”

“After everything you did to me? A quick death would be a mercy.” Nick knelt on the ground next to Luscian. “I’m not feeling merciful.” Then he plunged his fangs into Luscian’s neck and began to drain him. He took everything, drawing out all the knowledge and mastery of the Eldest, pulling more and more power from Luscian’s spirit form until he reached the depths of Luscian’s soul and claimed the last and greatest piece of magic left to him.

The Crown of Souls.

The knowledge of what it was and what it contained exploded into his awareness: a maelstrom of tormented souls bound into servitude after being struck down by Luscian’s sword. Nick tried desperately to cast it aside, but it was already too late. The imprisoned souls struck at his unprepared mind, ruthlessly pushing his consciousness aside as they possessed him, mind and body.

They turned their collective attention to Luscian, who lay quivering with fear under their fangs.
“Goodbye, Master,”
they whispered, with many voices, into his mind.
“Enjoy your voyage to hell, knowing we are finally and forever free.”
They drained the last of the power binding the vampire lord to life and watched as his soul slipped away in terror to face judgment.

The Crown of Souls stood, clothed in Nick’s form, gazing down at Luscian’s spirit as it dissipated at their feet. Then they turned to Rory and Take, who watched helplessly, realizing something had gone terribly wrong. “Takeshi Shadowhunter, Sean Magister Jiao-long,” they said, their voices blending in harmony. “We thank you for our freedom. Because of that gift, we will not kill you today. Take back what you gave, and leave in peace.” Nick’s spirit form smiled at them beatifically then disappeared.

Rory and Take stood, their strength returned. “Rory,” said Take, “did we win, or did we just lose big?”

Rory swallowed. “I don’t know.”

SOULKILLER’S BANE

CHAPTER 30

The Citadel, Lunar Farside

“Nick,” Anaba said cautiously, as the vampire opened his eyes and climbed to his feet, “is that you?”

Nick looked around, taking in the blood circles that surrounded him before raising his eyes to the countless stars shining through the dome above. He smiled and dropped his gaze to Ana, his eyes red and glowing with power beyond anything a simple vampire could command. “No.”

Ana’s eyes widened. Then she scowled. “Luscian.”

Nick shook his head. “No.” He walked around the inner perimeter of the blood circles, reading the patterns and sigils laid out around him. “House Luscian is dust, and our Master is finally dead.”

Anaba heard the multitude of voices layered through Nick’s words, something that shouldn’t have been possible from one set of vocal cords. She swallowed, working it through in her mind. “The Crown of Souls,” she whispered.

Nick turned his head toward her, his eyebrows raised. “Impressive. You have an exceptional mind, though you often try to hide it. We should have expected nothing less from the one who led the research teams that developed the technologies for both temporal and gravitic manipulation.” Not expecting an answer, Nick turned away from her to gaze at the stars again. “This is the Citadel, is it not? A magnificent achievement, and your overall design as well. It is no wonder they call you the Architect now.”

Ana straightened. “How do you know so much about me?”

“Nicholas absorbed those memories from Sean Magister Jiao-long. We are holding the Daywalker’s mind imprisoned, but his recollections remain open to us.” Nick looked down at the blood circles. “Sean knew you were pragmatic, Anaba, but I think even he would be surprised at how far you would go. We are almost shocked that a Sentinel would stoop to use a magic as black as blooded containment circles.”

Ana’s face reddened. “Know thy enemy.”

Nick laughed in many voices and registers. “Then I’m sure you realize that by drawing these circles in your own heart’s blood, you have tied your life into the containment matrix. It is an extremely effective way to strengthen the circles while they hold, but when the last circle breaks, you will die instantly.”

“Of course I know,” said Ana. “I designed this spellform myself.”

“Such a pity. You could have been a useful ally.” He raised his hand and the entire inside of the containment ring flared a blinding white, the room echoing with thunder as the inner circle shuddered under the assault and expired.

Ana reeled backward and fell to the floor, coughing up blood.

Ignoring her, Nick watched as the sigils in the second ring shifted into a new configuration. “Ana, Ana, Ana,” he said mockingly. “You
have
made quite a study of blood magic, haven’t you? This is actually quite subtle.” He studied the new sigils with approval. “As each circle falls, the power is drained away to reinforce the next circle rather than dissipating.” He smiled at Ana as she climbed shakily to her feet, wiping the blood from her mouth. “Extraordinary. Most Nightwalker spellcasters study for centuries without ever achieving this level of brilliance. You are to be commended for your mastery.”

“Am I supposed to be flattered?” Ana said, hunched over in pain.

“We are giving credit where it is due, Sentinel. In the end, it makes no difference.” Nick shrugged. “It may take longer, but it is only a matter of time. You simply do not have the strength to contain us. In the end, we will break free, and you will die.”

Ana swallowed. “I believe you,” she whispered. She stood straight, with difficulty, and raised her voice. “Fiat Lux.”

A virtual screen appeared next to her, showing a countdown clock.
“Launch code accepted. Gravity pulse deployed. Impact in eighty seconds.”

Ana laughed bitterly. “You can break my circles, but can you do it in time to claw your way out of a black hole?”

Screaming in rage, Nick slammed his fist against the barrier of the second circle, putting his full strength and mystical power behind it. The circle shuddered, but remained intact.

Ana’s eyes rolled up into her head, and she collapsed, unconscious.

Nick continued to pound his power against the blood circle until, finally, the second circle went out, its power draining away into the third and final circle. He looked at the countdown clock, knowing he would never be able to escape in time.
Fifty seconds left.

“NO!”
he screamed in a multitude of voices.
“WE ARE FREE! WE CANNOT DIE NOW!”
Then he fell to his knees and screamed again; this time there was only one voice, raised in terror. He looked around, breathing hard, and then scrambled on his hands and knees to the edge of the last blood circle and pounded his fists against the third barrier. “Ana, wake up! It’s me! It’s Nick. Let me out!”

Anaba didn’t move.

“Ana, for the love of God, wake up!” Nick got to his feet and paced back and forth in the containment field, desperately trying to think. He reached into Luscian’s memories and the knowledge from his own Gift. “Come on. Come on, Nick,” he said, his thoughts racing. “There has to be something. What counters blood magic?” He turned and glared at Ana where she lay upon the floor. “Damn you! What kind of Sentinel uses black magic?” Then he blinked. “Black magic…” he whispered.

Frantic, he spun around searching inside the circle for something he could use. “A focus! I need a focus.” He stopped, noticing the smeared sigils where he had crawled through the inert blood of the first two circles. He lunged forward and swiped his hand through the blood, too terrified to let the scent trigger his vampire hunger. He fixed his gaze on the gruesome wet stain on his fingers and then glanced at the clock.
Thirty seconds.
“I’m going to hell,” he said to himself quietly. Then he quickly drew a bloody cross on the front of his white shirt.

Dropping to his knees, he clasped his hands in front of him in prayer.
“Lord, please, I may not be one of your children anymore. I don’t know. But I beg you to lend me the smallest part of your strength. If not for me, then for her. Let me save us both.”
In his mind, he invoked the spell for a Faith Ward.

His eyes suddenly burned a vivid blue and the cross on his shirt burst into searing light. Nick rose to his feet, his mind resonating with power as a circle of azure flames surrounded him. Then he walked calmly and deliberately across the last circle, which flared and moved aside for him. The light faded and he dropped to his hands and knees, gasping with loss. Shaking his head to clear it, he crawled to Anaba’s side. Nick slung the unconscious Sentinel’s body over his shoulder as he stood, pausing only to yank the crystal rod from the bracer on her left wrist. In his right hand, it grew into a magician’s staff. He glanced again at the clock.
Fifteen seconds.

Using the staff, he cast a quick spell to dissipate the last blood circle from the outside, and it went out without breaking. Then he shifted Ana’s body to hold her tightly with his left arm, inhaled deeply, and slammed the staff against the floor with his right hand. It flared white, teleporting them away.

He was floating, holding his breath. Using telekinesis, Nick rotated to face the lunar surface, the alabaster towers of the Citadel almost two miles below him. The dome on the central spire flared with brilliant multicolored light, and a ripple of destruction spread away from it at horrendous speed in advance of the expanding, mirror-bright sphere of the event horizon. The shining turrets collapsed into the artificial gravity field, imploding before the shockwave as the city lights went out all at once. For a moment, the center of the city was encased in a silver orb of twisted space-time. Then, in a microsecond, the event horizon contracted to a pinpoint and disappeared, leaving nothing to mark its passing but a gaping hole in the tracery of white buildings and broken domes. The wreckage was eerily lit by a firestorm sweeping the city, sustained by the escaping atmosphere.