When Darke’s banishment dwindled, Lethe was still alive. Still firmly ensconced inside Billy’s body. Lethe used the Locus to replenish his energy. Ready for another assault.
Darke scowled at Lethe. Then turned to Meyer. “There is a spirit in possession of our cyberzombie,” he said. “A very powerful spirit who has insinuated itself in and around Burnout’s life force.”
Meyer’s look was grave. “What do you want me to do?”
“Banish it,” Darke said. “I don’t have time to waste with this right now. I must complete my ritual.”
Meyer nodded. “Of course. I will assemble a team of mages,” he said. “Surely, this spirit won’t withstand a ritual banishment of that magnitude.”
“Good idea.”
“It might be difficult to separate the two spirits inside without killing the cyberzombie,” Meyer said. “We will try, but I thought you should know the complexities involved.”
“I know them,” Darke said impatiently. “Proceed with the banishment. If he dies, so be it. Send the parts back to Roxborough for recycling into another cyberzombie.” Meyer watched Darke turn away and walk back to the Locus. “As you wish.”
25 August 2057
Ryan bolted upright.
His body hung on, his spirit like a heavy weight, like dead flesh on the bones of his soul. His skin tingled, flashing between fire and ice. Yellow light crashed in on him, and the heavy fragrance of burning candles choked in the back of his throat.
“What happened?” asked Foster.
Ryan breathed slowly, trying to adjust to the shock of such an abrupt transition. Slowly he came to feel a semblance of normalcy. He sat in the ritual circle in Harlequin’s chamber, and as he took breath in and released it, he no longer choked on the sweet fragrance of candles. He relished them; they washed away the metallic odor of blood and the stench of gutted corpses that drifted in his memory.
“Are you all right, Ryan?” asked Axler.
Ryan held his hand up for patience. “I think so,” he said. Then he got slowly to his feet, and looked at the concerned face of Jane Foster. Her blonde curls had been pulled back into a clip. “We ran into trouble,” he said. “Harlequin sent me back.”
Ryan looked over at the unconscious body of Harlequin, lying on the floor next to him. His aura had not returned.
“He may need help,” Ryan said. “He was wounded when
he sent me back.”
Ryan checked the elf’s body, but he knew there was nothing he could do. The physical body was in fine shape. Then Ryan looked himself over. He felt exhausted and hungry, and his shoulder was a little numb from the spider creature’s venom, but it seemed to be healing already.
The Dragon Heart had returned with him, but it was no longer in the center of the ritual circle. It had come back into the physical on his body, tucked once more into the sash around his waist.
Foster and Talon were examining the ritual circle. “The ritual magic has been disrupted,” Foster said, then rushed into the circle to Harlequin’s prone body.
Ryan looked at Axler. “How long have I been gone?”
“Nine hours,” she said. “It’s almost dawn.
Time must move slower there,
Ryan thought.
Talon and Axler approached Ryan. The mage had pulled his brown hair into a ponytail, and his eyes narrowed with concern. Ryan could tell that Talon was using his astral perception to examine Ryan’s aura.
“You look whole,” Talon said.
“Thank you, Talon,” Ryan said. “I feel fine now. Please assist Foster. I want Harlequin to make it back alive.”
Talon nodded and moved to help.
Axler examined Ryan coldly with her doe brown eyes. She scanned him for physical injuries, then lent him a supporting shoulder to lean on.
“What’s the status outside, Axler? Any sign of physical threat?”
She shook her head. “Nothing.”
“Good.”
Talon looked up, his dark brows knitting. “Foster and I need to search the metaplanes for Harlequin’s spirit,” he said. "Will you watch over us?”
Axler’s angelic face gazed down at them with a cold melancholy. “Of course.”
“Do what you must,” Ryan said. “Whatever it takes.”
Talon laid on his back next to Foster and Harlequin. Foster touched the coiled dragon ring on her finger, then went slack. Talon followed suit.
They looked so peaceful, the three of them. Foster truly was a beautiful woman, especially without all the posturing and attitude.
Ryan silently wished them luck as he stepped out of the circle and spoke into his tacticom mic. “Jane, you online?”
“I’ve been following events, Quicksilver. Sounds like you hit some heavy drek.”
“Understatement of the millennium, but the gist is right,” Ryan said.
“What do you want me to do?”
“We’ve got to locate Lethe. Thayla was destroyed, but she told us that Lethe would be able to wield the Heart.”
There was a pause while Jane contemplated. “Frag,” she said. Then, “Lethe should still be with Burnout.”
“You got any leads on where they took him?”
Jane sighed. “My smartframes tracked the helos to the Aztechnology arcology in Atlanta, but I haven’t had the spare cycles to try and deck into their hosts to see if I can get anything more. My assumption would be that they’d eventually ship him back to the home country, but we’re dealing with a megacorp. Anything is possible.”
Ryan shook his head. “I guess I should’ve planned that run into Aztlan.”
“I’ll find him, Quicksilver. How many spirit-possessed cyberzombies are there? He’s hard to hide.”
Ryan smiled. “Thanks, Jane. It’s more crucial than you know.”
“On it now.” She disconnected.
Abruptly, Talon sat up and shook his head. Foster did not move.
“I don’t think we’ll be able to find him,” he said. “We went to the bridge. Foster knew the way since she’s been there before. But there was no sign of him there, and we were about to be attacked.”
Talon shuddered. “That place is evil,” he said. “I never thought I’d say that about anything. I’d always thought there was no such thing as good and evil, no such inherent absolutes. But if evil exists. I’ve felt it now.”
“Why isn’t Foster awake?” Ryan asked.
“She knows him better than I do. She had little hope, but wanted to search some other places anyway.”
Ryan nodded. “Thanks, Talon.”
“I’d like to help her,” Talon said. “She’s desperate to find him.”
“No,” Ryan said. “I may need you awake in case Aztechnology sends people after us. But I know someone else who might be able to help Harlequin.”
Talon nodded, then stood up and stretched.
Ryan lifted his wristphone and punched in Nadja’s private LTG number. He touched the Connect and waited a few seconds while it rang on Nadja’s end. It was extremely early in the AM in Washington.
When she answered, the video was blanked. “Hello?”
“Sorry to wake you, my love,” Ryan said. “But this is of the utmost importance.”
“Ryan, are you all right?” The concern in her voice touched a chord in his heart.
“I’m fine, but Harlequin may be on the verge of death. I need you to contact his friend Aina. She may be the only one powerful enough to save him.”
The video came to life on the wristphone’s tiny flat-screen. Nadja smiled, pushing a strand of hair from her eyes. It was mussed from sleep, a rat’s nest of dark strands. “I’ll do it immediately,” she said.
Ryan nodded. “Thank you.”
As she disconnected, Ryan turned to look at Harlequin’s lifeless body.
I
hope Aina gets here in time,
he thought.
Even if I can find Lethe, it's going to be a lot harder to stop Darke without Harlequin.
The first pink strands of sunlight brushed the underbellies of the scattered clouds above the San Marcos
teocalli.
Lucero knelt on the hard, electric surface of the Locus and watched the lightening sky. All hope gone. Sapped from her like body heat through a wet blanket.
Leaving her shivering. Feeling desperate and alone, despite the bustle of activity all around her.
Deep, resonant drums sounded in the hillside above the lake now. The musicians in the trees around the old amusement park tower were dressed like jungle natives. Body paints on bare chests, feathers and headdresses. Loin cloths and leather sandals.
The drumbeat formed a musical tapestry to the ritual that Señor Oscuro and the Blood Mage Gestalt performed around her. The ritual drew the crowd of thousands closer, mesmerizing them with magical hypnosis.
They came like sheep.
In the aftermath of the cyberzombie’s attack, Oscuro had traveled back to the metaplanes. And he had gone alone this time, for with Thayla gone, he had no need of Lucero. He left her in the custody of Jaguar Guards and was gone for some time before standing again in his physical body, ordering the guards to bring her onto the Locus.
Now she knelt in the center of the Gestalt, Oscuro standing next to her as the thousands pushed in closer and closer. The morning wind was cool against her shaved scalp as she waited for what was about to happen. Death, or perhaps something worse.
Is he putting me on display?
she wondered.
“Stand, my child,” Oscuro said, his voice barely audible over the loud rhythmic pounding of the drums.
Lucero stood. Her power had grown from the exposure to Thayla’s magic, and she knew that she was stronger than she had ever been. She would no longer succumb to the addiction of the blood. Perhaps Thayla had redeemed her after all.
Oscuro’s dark eyes bored into her. “You will go down in history,” he said. “It is because of you that I was able to penetrate the defenses of those who wish to keep us separated from our rightful destiny. It is because of your balance, your love for beauty, and your desire for power. It is your greatest strength and your most dire weakness.”
The crowd around was enthralled by his words, which, Lucero realized, they must be able to hear despite the drums. For their eyes had glazed over, their expressions vacant. Hypnotized.
“And now,” Oscuro continued, “You have one final duty.” The dark man produced a ceremonial sword from under his robe. A
macauitl
—razor-sharp and designed for ritual sacrifices.
He’s going to kill me,
she thought.
And he will use my spilled blood to lengthen the bridge. To shorten the gap to the
tzitzimine.
The drums accelerated their pace, echoing like a staccato heartbeat in the valley around her. The Gestalt started to chant, a lamenting praise in long minor tones that sent waves of power up from the Locus and into Lucero's body.
She tried to run, but her feet did not move. Anchored by
magic into the giant gemstone.
“You should be proud of your sacrifice, my child. Your spirit will serve me yet.”
The blade flashed red in the early morning sun as it arced toward her. Magic forced rigor upon her body, thrusting her chest out, arching her back. The sword came down.
Drums, chanting.
The
macauitl
entered her just below the sternum.
Intense pain.
It sliced through her flesh, cutting her open to the crotch.
A fountain of agony.
Blood and intestines burst from the split in her. Gushing out of her—an eruption of veins and membranes.
Gone were the drums. The crowd. The temple. Everything reddened out from the screaming pain that exploded over her.
She fell onto the stone, landing in a pile of her own innards.
Dead.
The pain followed her beyond the pale. Her spirit writhed in agony as it ascended from her eviscerated body, slipping completely into astral space. The pain coalesced inside her as she hung there, surrounded by the vast astral presence of the Gestalt entity.
The final moment of her life stretched on inside her spirit—a moment of sheer torture. Abject terror and ultimate physical pain. It was all she was now. All she would ever be.
Ryan walked the perimeter of the island, trying to think through the situation. He had passed the whole night in the metaplanes, fighting for his life. For Thayla’s life. After all that time in the metaplanes, out of his body, he felt disoriented. Out of synch with his physical existence.
Surf pounded the rocks below the wall, sending ocean spray shooting into the air. The noon sun shone through the water droplets, turning each one into a tiny prism. A rainbow hanging momentarily on the interface between water and atmosphere.
At another time, Ryan would have allowed himself to appreciate the beauty of this ancient place. But now. . . .
Now he waited on Jane and Nadja and Foster.
Jane to find Burnout and Lethe. Nadja to contact Aina. Foster to retrieve Harlequin.
Ryan felt confidence return as he focused on his physical nature, the fountainhead of his magic. As he strode the wall, he made brief contact with Raven and Starfish, the two runners who guarded the perimeter. Raven, the black human samurai, merely nodded as Ryan walked past.