The Keeper's Shadow (46 page)

Mabatan follows the order. She does not say that no one can possibly make it in time to help the Apsara. They must do whatever they can. Fight to the bitter end. As she puts down the crossbow, she breathes deeply, even though she knows there is no preparing for what she is about to witness.

Training her binoculars on the square, she watches the crowd part for the Clerics. Just as Lumpy feared, they have the Apsara trapped. There are scores of them to Ende's twelve.

“How could we be so stupid,” Lumpy cries out, furious. “It must be Darius's honor guard. We should have known a giant Apogee was too important—” Lumpy gasps. “Oh. Oh. No.”

“Veet. Dai. Nim.” She whispers their names as they fall.

Petra's collapsed into Ende's arms. To see the leader's scream is to feel it rattling your bones. As Petra slides down Ende's body, lifeless, the Apsara leader smears the blood of the slaughtered warrior across her face. Her blade, one with her rage, takes every life it touches. Clerics' blood cascades through the air like rain. But she cannot save them. Nira. Kai…one after the other they fall. One after the other. Lumpy is shaking beside her. Guin. Ilf. His friends.

Almost two hundred against their twelve and the last Cleric has fallen. But of the Apsara only Ende remains alive. She is at the Apogee struggling to bring it down. There is no one left to help. The monument is ten times her size and she has nothing but her sword. Though Mabatan cannot see her face, she knows Ende is weeping, howling with fury and frustration. She strikes again and again with her weapon—she might as well use her fists for all the good it will do. Soon there's a sea of hands clawing at her. The Absent. The very people she's trying to save tug and pull at her, trying to drag her from their goddess's monument.

And she and Lumpy are here. Out of reach. Unable to help. Only able to witness. Staring at the square, she memorizes every detail she has seen. In case there is an after. For you, Petra. For Ende…Dai…

There is a rush of warm air behind her. The elevator is on its way to the top of the Pyramid. Mabatan reaches for her quiver but then remembers—Darius's honor guard lie dead in the square. It is unlikely now that the battle will come to her. No. Now it is up to Willum and Stowe.

The elevator doors open to the staggering view of a crescent sun against an electric blue sky. Stowe can sense that Willum's near. But where? Here or on the floor just below. She can't see him. As Darius pushes her into the apex of the Pyramid, the doors whisper closed behind them and the elevator descends, providing them with an uninterrupted view of the entire City. Clouds of black smoke rise from the ruined Quarry. Dozens of buildings are already aflame and one explosion after another rocks the floor. Darius turns to take it all in, and extending both his arms, he cries, exultant, “Tear it all down! Nothing on this earth matters.”

Digging his nails into her wrist, he stumbles to the east face of the pyramid with her in tow. The Keeper peers down at a shining obelisk, the monument he had dedicated to her. Thousands of Absent are rioting in the square around it. From here they look like ants crawling over each other for a chance to touch the garish object. Roan's people have failed to destroy it.

“Here's a lesson for you, Stowe.” Darius is gloating. “I lost Roan and the Novakin, but did I give up? No. I enhanced the enablers. Querin says your brother has disabled them. That might have defeated me had I stopped there. I'd hoped the Masters might have provided me with enough of a boost, but I wasn't relying on them, oh no, I was prepared for Querin to make his move, and a good thing too. I created the Apogee and now the Absent shall return all the favors I have bestowed on them.” Darius flicks open a panel on one of the girders. “I want to smell the death, Stowe. Breathe it in.”

A cold blast of air forces them back as the entire eastern wall of the Pyramid opens outward and unfolds to form a platform. Stowe feels the panic rising inside her. Willum must not have made it to this floor. She can't wait any longer, or it might be too late. She has to act now.

Marshalling all her reserves, Stowe faces Darius and screams until he is thrown hard against the wall, his decrepit chest heaving. She screams until his face turns a bony white, his eyes bulge in their sockets and his ears bleed. He's clawing at something behind him and yanks it forward. Willum! NO! He must have been holding Darius from behind without her seeing him. The veins stand out on Willum's face, a bright blue. Oh no. Nonononononono.
Willum, I didn't mean to hit you, I didn't…

Sliding back toward the platform, Darius scrambles to reach the open panel.

Stop Darius. Stop him, Stowe.

Turning from Willum, she rushes to grab Darius's feet, but he kicks like a struggling pig and she can't get hold. She shoves at him but it only moves him closer to the girder. Pulling himself to his feet, the Keeper begins to tap in a code. Willum stumbles toward Darius just as he finishes. The high-pitched whistle of the Apogee can be heard even from here. All hope is lost for the Absent. How many seconds before their life-force revitalizes Darius?

Willum swings Darius toward the edge of the platform, but the Keeper's ancient claws hook into Willum's robe. As they crash to the floor, Willum plunges his thumbs into Darius's eyes.

Reaching below her dress to the knife concealed there, Stowe advances on the struggling men. She feels as if she were pushing against a mountain of flame and ice. With a gasp of despair, she sees the air folding in shimmering waves over the ghetto. The Keeper is beginning to glow, glow like the edges of the moon. The Apogee is feeding his biofield, just as Willum explained, and in the growing darkness it is clear that soon he will be powerful enough to cast Willum aside.

She has to move. She will not be cheated of her prize. With all her will, she pushes herself forward. She cannot scream, Willum is too close, but Darius's chest is almost in reach. She raises the knife. Suddenly her feet slide out from underneath her. Darius grasps her wrist and squeezes. The knife. He's trying to get the knife. She rolls away but he wrenches her back and…she's caught. Caught in the stupid dress. Kicking, desperate to free herself from the fabric, she pushes her wrist as hard as she can against his thumb. Her wrist abruptly wrenches free, but her weapon is jarred from her fingers.

As she tries to slide away, she can see the knife, her knife, in Darius's hand. She can't move fast enough, it's plunging right for her. Willum throws himself on top of her and she feels his body stiffen. The knife moves straight through him. She feels it scratch against the fila-armor that covers her chest. It scratches back and forth and Willum slumps…his blood…his life…escaping…escaping.

Stowe. Stowe. Kill him. You must kill him.

Stifling sobs that thrash like a furious sea within her, she pushes Willum aside. Darius is taking out his small box of violet dust. He takes a pinch between his fingers and puts the Dirt to his lips. A white cricket lands on his hand. Shaking it off, he crushes it with his foot. One after another they land around him.

Push him. Push him now.

Bending toward her, Darius reaches for her face. But before the Dirt can touch her lips, a light flares. A white cloud passes over the hole that was the sun, moving straight toward them. Her brother. With wings. Wings and a cloud of millions of white crickets around him.

“Look, Darius. My brother comes to destroy you.”

Darius turns and is swarmed by crickets. Roan lands beside her, quickly sliding out of the translucent wings. But she can't wait. She pushes. She pushes with all her might. But even as Darius falls, she knows he has already left this world for his Dreamfield Throne and she has lost. Lost her chance for revenge. Lost everything. Far below them she can see the wisps of life-force streaming from every corner of the ghetto into the Apogee. She knows where it is heading: straight to Darius and his Throne.

She cries in rage and fury. She feels her brother's arms around her.

“Stowe, it's not too late. We can—”

“No. No. I can't go. Not now, Roan. Get him. Please. Please!”

She hears him whisper, “I'll be back, Stowe, I'll be back. After.”

But what does that mean—After? Willum is dying. He's dying.
Willum. Willum. Don't go. Please come back
. She puts her face against Willum's chest.
Come back. Come back
. Filaments of the life remaining in his blood reach out to her fingers, her eyes, her heart.
Come back.

Stowe, please, let me go.

She pulls the badger ring from where she'd hidden it and slips it on her finger. She can feel Willum on the edge of her consciousness, the hawk, trying to fly away. Fly away from her.
Noooo.

Stowe, please, let me go.

I can't, Willum. I can't. You have to stay with me.

Stowe, no. Please. You don't know.

Willum, I can't. You have to stay. You have to.

R
OAN STREAKS AFTER THE RED EAGLE
. S
PEED
. S
PEED
. H
E NEEDS MORE SPEED
.

A
S
D
ARIUS BEGINS HIS DESCENT INTO THE IRIDESCENT OUTSTRETCHED PALM,
R
OAN ROCKETS INTO HIM
. T
HE COLLISION SENDS THEM BOTH CAREENING WILDLY THROUGH THE AIR
. R
OAN REACHES OUT, GRIPPING ONE OF THE EAGLE'S LEGS
.

T
HE EAGLE RAKES ITS FREE TALONS ACROSS
R
OAN'S CHEST AND SINKS ITS BEAK INTO HIS HAND
. O
ILY BLACK SMOKE CURLS OVER THE OPEN WOUNDS
. R
EELING WITH PAIN,
R
OAN LOSES HIS GRIP AND
D
ARIUS HURLS HIMSELF DESPERATELY AT THE
T
HRONE
.

C
RICKETS POUR OUT OF THE SKY, SWELLING IN SIZE UNTIL THEY ARE GIANTS
. B
UZZING LIKE LOCUSTS, THE CRICKETS SURROUND
D
ARIUS'S CONSTRUCTION
. P
ERCHED PROTECTIVELY ON HIS
T
HRONE, THE EAGLE SLASHES AT THEM, SHRIEKING
.

S
EEING AN OPENING,
R
OAN DIVES
. T
HE HALF-RING QUIVERS AND ITS GLOW SURGES OVER
R
OAN, ENCASING HIS BODY FROM HEAD TO FOOT
. B
RISTLING HAIR SPROUTS FROM EVERY PORE
. H
IS ARMS SHORTEN
. H
IS JAW—HE'S TRANSFORMING INTO THE BADGER, JUST LIKE WHEN HE FOUGHT
S
AINT IN HELL
. H
OW CAN THIS HELP HIM NOW
!

A
S HE CRASHES INTO THE
T
HRONE,
D
ARIUS LURCHES BACKWARD
. G
RASPING THE OPPORTUNITY,
R
OAN SINKS HIS
B
ADGER TEETH INTO THE EAGLE'S WING, THEN THRUSTS HIS POWERFUL JAW FROM SIDE TO SIDE, SNAPPING IT VIOLENTLY
. D
OZENS OF GHOSTLY SHAPES ESCAPE AS THE WING CRACKS AND TEARS, AND, FOR A MOMENT, THE EAGLE'S EYES DULL
.

D
ARIUS PLUNGES HIS BEAK DEEP INTO THE
T
HRONE'S SURFACE, DRINKING IN DOZENS OF AMORPHOUS FORMS
. A
S
R
OAN FIGHTS FURIOUSLY TO DISLODGE HIM,
D
ARIUS, REVIVED, SLASHES, HIS CLAWS RAKING ONCE MORE INTO THE BADGER'S CHEST
.

“D
ID YOU THINK SEEING A BADGER WOULD FRIGHTEN ME
? H
A
!
I
SHOULD HAVE DONE THIS A CENTURY AGO
!”
HE SCREAMS IN TRIUMPH, AND WITH AN OPEN BEAK TAKES AIM AT
R
OAN'S JUGULAR
.

T
HE BADGER TWISTS ITS MASSIVE FRONT LEGS AND THE TWO ENEMIES BEGIN TO SLIDE SLOWLY TOWARD THE
T
HRONE'S EPICENTER
. T
HE EAGLE CLAWS INTO THE
T
HRONE BUT IT'S TOO LATE
. T
HEY ARE BEING SUCKED ALONG A NARROW CHANNEL—ONE OF THE MANY VEINS
R
OAN SAW CRISSCROSSING THE
D
REAMFIELD—AND CATAPULTED TO THE
O
VERSHADOWER
.

A
S
R
OAN AND THE EAGLE PLUMMET TOWARD THE DEMON'S PIT, A MINOTAUR'S POWERFUL ARMS SUDDENLY GRIP THE RAPTOR'S WINGS AND SPREAD THEM TO THE BREAKING POINT
. R
OAN CAN SEE THE TERROR IN
D
ARIUS'S EYES AS PALE YELLOW FLAMES MELT INTO HIS GLOSSY FEATHERS
.

O
VER THE
A
RCHBISHOP'S SHRIEKS, THE BLIND GOD WHISPERS,
“R
EMEMBER YOUR PROMISE
.”

“H
OW—
?”

“L
OOK AT YOUR HAND,
R
OAN OF
L
ONGLIGHT
.”

R
OAN IS ABOUT TO PROTEST THAT HE HAS NO HANDS, WHEN HIS BADGER CLAWS TRANSFORM
. I
N AN INSTANT, HIS GREAT-GRANDFATHER'S
D
REAMFORM IS GONE
. A
ND AS SOON AS HE IS HIMSELF AGAIN, HIS LEFT HAND BURSTS INTO FLAME
.

“I
T IS TIME FOR YOU TO FULFILL YOUR PROMISE
.”

A
S IF FORGED FROM PURE FIRE, A BLADE BEGINS TO EMERGE
. E
MBEDDED IN THE FLESH OF HIS PALM, ITS CURVED CROSSING POINTS ARE THOSE OF HIS HOOK-SWORD
.

“Y
OU KNEW YOU COULD NOT KILL A GOD WITH ANY ORDINARY BLADE
.” T
HE
F
RIEND'S VOICE IS GENTLE, ALMOST KIND, BUT AS THE
O
VERSHADOWER PULLS THEM EVER CLOSER, THE GOD BELLOWS,
“C
UT OFF MY HEAD,
R
OAN OF
L
ONGLIGHT, CUT IT OFF NOW
!”

R
OAN REMEMBERS THE SACRIFICES DEMANDED BY THE
F
RIEND—THE LOSS OF HIS FAMILY, OF
L
ONGLIGHT
. H
E ARCS BACK HIS ARM AND WITH ALL THE PENT-UP ANGER OF THE LAST TWO YEARS, HE SWINGS
. T
HE
F
RIEND'S HORNED HEAD TUMBLES STRAIGHT INTO THE
O
VERSHADOWER'S GAPING MOUTH
. B
UT THE GOD'S HOOVES SIMULTANEOUSLY TEAR DOWN THE FLESH-LIKE WALL OF THE DARK PIT, PINNING THE GREAT GULLET OF THE
O
VERSHADOWER OPEN
. J
AGGED CLAWS RISE UP AS THE MONSTER GAGS, CHOKING ON THE BULL'S HORNED HEAD
. R
IPPING FEROCIOUSLY AT THE
F
RIEND'S HEADLESS TORSO, IT SNAPS BACK HIS ARMS, AND THE BLEEDING EAGLE IS RELEASED
.