- Home
- Larsen, Patti
Order Page 3
Order Read online
Page 3
The touch of power in the Gate room drew me out, away from my kids, Sassafras sprawled in their combined laps, watching over them. I paused at the door to the archive, feeling the great drach lord down the hall waiting with a hint of impatience unlike him, but unable to drag myself away from the sweet scene of my children in a big, wooden chair with a silver Persian weighting down their legs.
“What was he like, Sassafras?” Gabriel’s poignant question made me cry again.
“Sweet,” Sass said. “Kind.” He snorted, amber eyes looking up to meet mine. “Too sweet for your mother. She bullied him all the time.”
That made me laugh and allowed me to walk away, knowing, as I always did, in what excellent paws my children were held.
Smartass cat, I sent.
Bully, he shot back.
My good humor—bless him for giving me something to laugh about—lasted about as long as my trip into the Gate room. The moment I looked up and into Max’s eyes, I understood the time for reminiscing and tears was over.
Action hero Syd, at your service.
“Tell me,” I said as the drach lord and his slim companion, the lóng, Jiao, waited for me with grim faces and tense postures.
“I’m afraid it’s bad news,” Max said in his deep voice. “For some reason, the Universe is disintegrating faster than ever, and I have no idea why.”
***
Chapter Five
I was hardly surprised when Sassafras appeared at my side a moment after Max finished speaking, and not in his normal Persian form, either. Ever since my white sorcery had clarified the transition between cat and human, Sass had been spending more and more time as a young man than a furry feline.
Correction. He chose that particular form—all lean handsome with dark eyes and hair, olive skin and a sardonic grin that was so Sassafras I could still see the demon in him—whenever Jiao came calling. And, if I were to allow myself to go there, I would ponder the looks the two exchanged on meeting, the way they stood close together every chance they had, how they seemed content sharing space and air in a way that made me want to giggle.
Mind you, Max’s news was no giggling matter. But knowing something warm and possibly life changing for my oldest friend might be brewing with the lóng girl, it at least tempered the edges of yet another disaster.
My son took my hand on my other side, staring up at Max with fearlessness that never failed to shock me. So collected and determined for eight years old. Was I ever that wise? Who was I kidding? Still not there.
Might never make it, either.
“Max,” my son said, “explain. What exactly is happening to the Universe?” That hint of command, the way his fingers squeezed mine—not for support but to give it—made my heart tremble. He was growing up so fast, becoming someone I barely knew and yet understood completely at the same time.
The drach leader shrugged his broad shoulders, faint scales appearing on his gray skin as his alternate form shifted. I could still see the dragon he was, as if occupying the same space, a gift I’d not lost despite choosing to separate myself from my own drachness. It was almost easier to spot the restless discomfort in the massive shape than it was in Max’s smooth and calm human expression.
At least my son was learning stoic from the best.
“I’ve seen it with my own eyes,” Max said, Jiao nodding briefly beside him, her dark eyes meeting mine with concern tightening the corners. My lóng friend rarely showed emotion, so I was even more worried now. We knew there were planes vanishing. I’d witnessed it, too, after Trill stole the hand of Creator from me, the people of that world disappearing before the entire place popped out of existence. Surely Max remembered. Why the sudden panic? “Multiple planes simply absorbed into the veil, one after another like a chain reaction.” Okay, so that was different. I swallowed nervously, hand convulsive on my son’s. He looked up at me with a faint smile.
Reassurance from a child. That was what I’d come to? Oh, Syd. He wasn’t a child. Not anymore.
“At least now we know where the planes are disappearing to.” True enough. Liam’s soul allowed me the connection I needed to reach my old bestie, Alison Morgan, mean girl turned friend turned ghost turned who-knew-what vampirish thingie. She’d told me as my love’s spirit burned up that she and the vampires were there, trapped in the place between the veil and nowhere, along with members of the Order, Dark Brother’s terrifying army. As well as countless beings and planes all layered over each other. As if waiting… for what?
For Doombringer to make her choice?
“It’s only been two days since Gabriel returned the brain of Creator,” Max said, his smooth voice roughened just enough I felt his concern like a vibration in my bones. “Despite our success in regaining a third of her pieces, the disintegration of the Universe seems to be speeding up.”
“So what’s causing it?” I wanted to pace. It was my favorite thinking and stressing activity, but I couldn’t bring myself to release Gabriel’s hand. “The Order?” Shudder. No way had they broken into our Universe. We’d know, I was positive of that. They were just too massive a power force for us to miss their arrival. “Dark Brother?” No, he had to be in his own Universe, too, or everything would have gone to hell by now. The Order were bad enough. The memory of their marching approach to the Gateway my son opened in Creator’s statue chamber was fresh and biting. But I would never, ever forget the looming terror of Dark Brother rushing toward me in the maji chamber all those years ago, the night Ameline forced Gabriel to open a way between Universes and almost let Creator’s evil sibling through.
Never.
“I wouldn’t count out Liander Belaisle,” Sassafras snarled next to me. True, the former leader of the Brotherhood was Dark Brother’s pawn. He also had possession of at least one—if not more—piece of Creator. Those pieces, even separate, had massive power. We suspected Jean Marc Dumont, the new power behind the Brotherhood, was using the arm of Creator to convert Steam Union sorcerers to his side. Could Belaisle somehow be altering the composition of the veil and planes with a piece or two of his own?
“While he is powerful and connected,” Max said, “I doubt even he has the wherewithal to send whole planes into the void.” He shook his big head, brow furrowing in a rare show of pique. “I fear what is happening is a more natural reaction to events we are no longer in control of.”
Gabriel didn’t comment. Like he’d expected this news, wasn’t terribly worked up about it. I’d known my son had information he refused to share, knowledge outside ours. Seeing him react without anxiety somehow stirred more worry in me—at least for him—and equally calmed me.
That is, until I acknowledged the true reason for the destruction of everything could be right in the spot where I stood. I swallowed before speaking, almost choking on the renewed fear of what I said. “This could be me, you know.” Amazing how liberating it was to speak it at last, a quiet, terrible terror I’d carried along the way, growing in size and strength despite not knowing really how massive it was until this moment. They all stared at me in confusion. “Doombringer.” My throat twisted convulsively for the second time. “Maybe I’m doing something just by travelling in the veil.” Okay, farfetched, but fear had a way of knotting me up when I thought it was my fault.
“I disagree.” Max’s brow smoothed, a soft smile on his lips. “There is something happening, Sydlynn, but I believe the task that makes you Doombringer will be much less subtle and unexplained.”
I wasn’t sure if I should be relieved or not, except I preferred decisive choices, so I’d take his reassurance and suck up my worry. For now. Besides, he was right, wasn’t he? My past involvement in the disasters that made up my life wasn’t exactly what anyone would describe as “subtle”.
I could wait on the blame game. There was always later to wallow and tremble.
“We need to investigate.” I finally released Gabriel and hugged him, stepping back as he joined Sassafras. Only then did I see my daughter watching, peeking her dark
head out of the doorway to the archive. She pinked when she saw me, as if embarrassed to be caught eavesdropping, but I waved to her and she nodded, shoulders squaring.
Fearless as she saluted me with a small pentagram etched in the air before her, glowing blue a moment before it disappeared.
“Take the kids to Gram,” I told Sass as my son joined the cat-turned-young man, both scowling at me. “No complaining out of the pair of you.” I jabbed a finger at Sassafras. “You chose me. That means the kids, cat.”
He bobbed a nod, frowning.
“And you.” I poked my son in his forehead once. “I know you think you can help, and maybe you can, but until we find out what’s going on I want you to stay with your sister. Okay?”
He nodded, too, though he looked about as happy as Sass did. Pair of frowning, irritated bratskis.
I’d accept being the focus of their annoyance if they were safe.
“I’ll come with you.” I suppose I shouldn’t have been shocked at Jiao’s offer and suppressed a quick grin when she crossed with languid seeming casualness to stand at Sass’s side.
Suddenly he seemed a whole lot less surly. Go figure.
I offered a wave to my kids before stepping through the veil at Max’s side, leaping out and straddling his thick neck as the drach leader took his natural shape and winged his way into the veil.
All of my magicks opened, senses wide and tingling, searching for answers I knew would not be forthcoming. No way would we have it easy. Since when? Yeah, like never. Still, if easy fell in my lap I’d probably doubt it and go around it three different ways before accepting maybe it was the truth just out of sheer stubbornness.
It helped to focus on the problem at hand, especially when I felt the thrum of Max’s power beneath me. I’d given up my drachness, my ability to fly, when I’d chosen to return home, welcoming the girls in my head back into wakefulness and the weight of the problems of my world on my shoulders. I still missed the freedom, the quiet and patience and peace, of being drach.
One day. I’d be free one day. Or so I kept telling myself.
Since when did I ever get a happy ending that lasted?
If Max knew where my thoughts were taking me he didn’t comment, instead winging his way to join Mabel and a handful of his fellow drach who hovered in the veil, waiting for us. Mabel’s power—my bloodline—embraced me with her cool gentleness, the vast magic of the drach held back, a pulse like the heartbeat of the Universe in her touch as she spoke.
Three more planes have vanished that we know of, she sent, her tone so calm she might as well have been ordering dinner. I can feel the veil shrinking in my very bones. That registered with fear. Mabel showing worry was like the Universe falling apart.
Ahem. Touché.
I was about to speak up myself, to ask stupid questions no one had answers for, when the veil beneath us shuddered and sighed. And, in that moment, while the walls around a plane collapsed inward and the people, places and things of that plane disappeared with a soft sucking sound into the void, I felt a terrible chill pass over my soul.
Despite knowing it was happening, despite seeing it occur once before, this felt so final, so contrived and not random, the precision of the loss so complete I had no doubt whatsoever we were witnessing the beginning of the end.
Of everything.
***
Chapter Six
Failure was a crushing boulder on someone who seemed to have all the power of the Universe at her disposal. Case in point. I hovered there, clinging to Max’s neck with my hands and my magic, heart pounding, head spinning, wondering what the hell was the use of being this megawatt pawn of Creator when a second plane began to crumble.
Oh, hell no. Not this time, not on my watch when I had said magic burning in my veins, begging to be used. Except, thrashing around like a lunatic, not knowing what I was doing, would likely either get someone hurt or make matters worse.
What’s an all-powerful girl to do?
My white sorcery reacted even as I bopped around in my head, getting in my own way while my three alter egos spluttered and thrashed and my sorcery burbled its confusion. The power that was Creator’s ultimate design for magic in the Universe reacted calmly, taking firm hold of me and focusing all of my attention on the edge of the veil.
At least someone knows what she’s doing, my vampire muttered.
That was reassuring. Not. Considering I already had a trio of extra voices rattling around in my noggin, I hardly needed another. But the white sorcery didn’t speak, didn’t even show a real personality outside of taking control and showing me what I needed to see.
There, on the edge of the collapsing veil surrounding the plane. A thread of power, shimmering with the white magic itself, a thin and shining shield from the gaping maw that was the void. I realized as I threw magic at the edge the void itself didn’t exactly draw on power. Only that its absolute lack of anything created a vacuum, much as I’d been taught space was like.
That was weird to think about as my mind settled into calm determination while my magic fought to do its thing. Was space really the void itself, just called a different name by normals?
Maybe if I’d had more of a chance to think things through the end result of my attempt would have turned out differently. Or, perhaps if the drach in my company—specifically the one I rode—didn’t gasp and grasp for me, jerking my magic free of the sparkling veil edge, I could have figured things out. But, regardless the reasoning, I found myself still attached to the collapsing plane when it was sucked into the void, but without the benefit of control.
I’d been here before, spun forward into the blackness that devoured everything, feeling my very soul being sucked into nothing. Only this time, instead of reaching for specifics, namely my vampire friends, I chose to cast a wide open net of awareness as I plunged head first into the black.
The void was a jumbled mess of planes and those sparkling edges now pale and drained but still keeping the worlds apart, at least allowing them to overlay in a confusing pile of spinning people and stuff. I blinked through the sudden weariness as my own magic was devoured. Past the wavering confusion of the overlapping planes. Glimpses came through, the giant forms of the Order swiping at me on the way by, Alison’s startled face as I rushed past her.
And had a thought despite the fear and the uncertainty as I fell. Why those two races in particular? Yes, there were whole planes and their inhabitants in the void. But as far as I knew the vampires and the Order were the only two races who came alone, without a place to call home.
Lassitude washed over me, darkness closing in around the edges. I faintly felt Max in the distance, pulling me back, but he wasn’t strong enough. I’d been here before, yes, but never come so deep so quickly, and knew as I blinked slowly into the depths that seemed to go on forever I was at an edge of my own. If I didn’t find a way to turn around now, there would be no going back.
And there would be no Doombringer.
That snapped me out of the paralyzing draw on my magic, though I shuddered at the bone deep exhaustion making me limp. I didn’t have breath to scream, power to fight, heart to win. Not the edge, then. Far past that. Into oblivion.
I barely felt the pinch on my right wrist, the sting of circulation cutting off, my body jerked upward, lifting free of the void. I rushed past the vampires again, the Order in their shining armor, through planes and layers and people, rushing as quickly as I’d fallen toward light at the other end where giant drach forms waited.
And gasped a massive breath, collapsing on Max’s neck while the black ribbon around my wrist released its clamped grip so quickly I whimpered at the agony of returning blood flow.
The girls shrieked in my head, voices gaining volume while I managed to fill my lungs once, twice, three times. It took everything I had in me to cling to the drach beneath me and pant air into my body.
The ribbon flexed on my wrist before collapsing, shuddering as I’d shuddered inside the void, the power within it a
lmost spent. It had saved me once again, the soul of the drach from the other Universe that perhaps I should never have trusted. And yet, it had done everything in its power since we’d met to make sure I survived.
Either it was on our side or Dark Brother needed me alive. I was grateful no matter the truth.
“Syd.” Max’s voice held terror, warbling with drach song. “What happened?”
I raised my hand about an inch and let it fall with a thump on his neck. Energy flowed back into me through him as he fed me from his own personal power. I could finally sit up, shaking fingers raking my hair back from my face where it had escaped my ponytail.
“I tried to stop it.” How foolish I sounded, how arrogant. “The white sorcery, it showed me how.” Well, not really, but it tried. And damn me if I didn’t want to give it a go again at a later date when I was up to it. Of course I did. “But I wasn’t ready and the void sucked me in.” I stroked my fingers over the black ribbon. “They’re all in there, Max. The planes, the people. The Order and our vampires.”
He nodded, a puff of smoke escaping his nostrils while Mabel glared at me, diamond eyes glittering fury. “Don’t,” he said, “ever do that again.”
There was a time I would have bristled at being told what to do. But even as I considered how I’d do things differently next time, I shivered and hugged myself.
“We’ll talk about it,” I said. “One thing is certain. The Universe is collapsing in on itself and if we can’t find a way to stop it, everything is going to end up in there.” Made me wonder then. I spoke the question out loud. “If Order soldiers are winding up in the void, does that mean the other Universe is collapsing at the same rate?”
“That would make sense,” Max said, regaining some of his composure. He spun and winged me back toward my home plane, Mabel growling something I didn’t catch before we left her. “Even with the separation, the Universe demands balance.”