Creatures of Snow (46 page)

The howling of the child
upstairs was piercing his ears and heart. He had failed. He had
killed two men. He had let her die.

Stumbling to his feet he
brought down a small end table as he looked around the cramped room
in an unfocused blur trying to locate the stairs. His legs seemed
incredibly unreliable, in fact, his whole body was
defiant.

His legs gave out and he
stumbled forward, tripping over the monster soldier. He landed
hard, not having had the time or strength to catch himself. It
wasn’t so bad down there; in fact, it felt much better then
standing. He uncurled onto the cool floor, enjoying the
satisfaction of laying still. Rolling over onto his back, he let
out a little sigh as the pressure was taken off his aching chest
and stomach.

His energy bled out around
him in crimson streams. With a jerk of his head he faced the dead
monster beside him, but, he wasn’t a monster anymore, now was he?
No, he was just a man, a dead man with the knife Sara had given him
still clutched in his rigid grasp. A flash of anger scorched
through Sky. That was his knife. A gift, in fact.

Hand over hand, with tooth
and nail, he clawed his way over to the dead man, prying loose the
stiff fingers around the hilt, breaking a few in the
process.

The crying of the baby, of
Lil’May, became more insistent and desperate. As much as he wanted
to stay there trembling on the floor, he willed himself up and
unsteadily forward. If he could just make it up the stairs and get
to her, he could summon Soul and then, well then it would be okay.
It had to be.

Chapter
Thirty-
Seven

Sky didn’t know how long
he had blacked out that time, but he woke up halfway up the stairs.
Time had lost meaning. Between his body and his mind he had reached
the point of overload and now, he no longer felt anything. It was
only a matter of staying conscious long enough to make it to
Lil’May.

There was a bird chirping
loudly from somewhere inside the house. He had made it to the top
of the stairs and stumbled on; making sure his momentum carried him
forward down the hall, and not back down the stairs.

The chirping came again,
but this time he recognized the high, steady tweeting as the
wav-com still attached to his belt. It would have to
wait.

Lil’May’s whines were becoming quieter, but
she thankfully kept up a mild whimper - there would be no way he
could find her in his state without her voice to lead his way. He
slid his shoulder along the wall of the narrow hallway, knocking
down pictures and paintings as he went, slowly progressing closer
to the muffled sniffles of the baby.

Her door was open, which
was a blessing for he didn’t know if his hands were up to the task
of turning a handle. Light from a large, dusty window poured into
the open room and over the multitude of books that lined the
shelves and lay in neat piles on the floor and on every piece of
available furniture. The only thing in the room unaffected by the
heaps of literature was the wooden crib at the center.

Lil’May cooed up at him
when he finally found her and her perfect little face, still wet
from crying. He wanted to reach down and hug her, tell her it was
going to be all right, but, her face disappeared from his view as
the world fell down around him. The ground met him without
yielding.
He is coming.
Her voice echoed in his head. That’s right. The
Man of Mist.

He pulled himself up and
stared down at the small form once again. He pulled out the charms
Zero had given him and placed them sloppily around Lil’May, his
blood dripping down onto the pristine sheets and blankets. With his
hands forming the seal of key, it activated, and the small girl
disappeared from view. He griped the bracelet Con had given him in
his hand.
Soul, I need
you
. He thought as loudly as he
could.
Soul, please.
Powers, someone, please, I need you.

The wav-com buzzed again. It was the last of
his strength that he was able to unlatch it from his belt. He
answered the beckon, but couldn’t speak.

“
Sky!” Al’s exasperated
voice came over the com. “Sky, are you there?”

The burn of tears
threatened behind his eyes. Was it really the last time he would
hear Al’s voice? “Al.” He managed to choke out before a fit of
bloody coughs rattled through him. He stumbled out of the room and
into the hall.

“Sky, we’re in trouble.”
Al said, panic in his voice, “You’re safe right. Just tell me
you’re safe.”

No, no, this couldn’t be
happening. He choked on a sob and fell to his knees.

“
Sky, what’s wrong? Sky,
are you there?”

He could hear the battle raging on behind
Al’s voice. The Captain was shouting orders, someone was
screaming.

The spinning room was
beginning to go dark. He couldn’t be sure if he was still on the
floor or floating above it. The ominous shadows that danced and
played in the corners of his vision began shifting
closer.

He was there.

Al was shouting at him,
but words no longer had meaning, they were just rough noises that
initiated the stabbing pains radiating through his skull. If he
could only move, even if it was just his finger, he could shut the
damn wav-com off he wouldn’t have to spend his last moments
listening to his friends suffer.

There was a pull at his
hand and he tried to shift his blurry vision over, but even his
eyes weren’t responding to his command. After a small click the
wav-com fell to the floor beside him, silent now.

“
Are you finally going to
die?” The voice of the Man of Mist hissed in his ear.

Cold hands wrapped around his neck and
lifted him to his feet. Even if he could focus his eyes, he would
only be faced with illusion.

“So it’s just you?” He
asked Sky with a laugh, “The only thing that stands between me and
the fate of the Living is a pathetic boy? I’m a bit disappointed I
must say. That other boy, that little freak in the mask, he hardly
gave me much of a fight either.”

“Soul.” Sky tried to
picture him in his mind. There was no way Soul could lose. “You’re
a liar.” It couldn’t be true. Someone had to come. Someone had to
get to Lil’May. “Zar.” He cried, someone had to answer
him.

The Man of Mist tightened
his grip around his throat.

Zar! Please!

The hand on his throat was
torn away in a black and white blur as something smashed into the
side of the Man of Mist, driving him back and away.

Sky dropped to the ground. “Soul.”

“
Don’t touch him!” Soul
screamed, kicking the Man of Mist back even farther. Soul’s
clothing was soaked in what Sky could only assume to be
blood.

“Kid’s now a day’s just
don’t know when to die!” The Man of Mist laughed and jumped over
the railing, down to the ground floor of the house.

“
Sky,” Soul knelt down
beside him. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Kill him.” Sky pushed
out.

Soul nodded. “I understand
his tricks now, I will not lose again.”

“Where, oh where could
that little book be?” The Man of Mist sang merrily into their heads
as he pulled down book shelves and tore open closets.

“
Be strong Sky, I’ll be
right back.” And with that, Soul jumped out of view.

Sky rolled to the side.
Wanting to see what was happening. He couldn’t die now, not
yet.
Zar! Please! Answer me.

Stop shouting I can hear
you.
Zar’s beautiful voice was music in
his head.

Zar, please, I need my power. I need to heal
these wounds.

There is no more power.
Not without a link to the Snow.
Zar
sounded so far away.

There has to be
something.
Sky pleaded.
Sara once said there was no central point,
he remembered her words.
She said it was like it was a part of me.

If you open it up that
way, you’ll be consumed by the Snow.

I won’t be consumed, I can control it.

I doubt it…but I’m not
ready to end our fun just yet.
Zar paused
and was silent. There was a hum in the back of his head and a wave
of lightness washed over his body, followed by the greatest weight
he had ever felt. Was this it? Was this what dying felt
like?

Open your eyes, prince.
See the flow of energy, find the Snow. It exists in the space
between space. Sync your body to it, it’s a part of you, accept it,
and it will open to you.

Sky pulled his eyes open
and forced them to focus. He could see it. And he had seen it
before. It was just as Zar said. The Snow surrounded them; it
flowed along with life and was a part of it. He could feel it, the
steady drone, the vibration of existence. He held his hand out and
looked up, through the ceiling, through the roof and out into the
blue of the sky.
I can touch it, mom. I
can touch the sky.
He smiled, the most
wonderful feeling rushing into every cell of his body, filling it
with energy and life.
I can touch
it…and
He clasped his hand into a fist,
feeling the weight of the molecules in the air,
I can hold it.

He was on his feet before
he even thought about it. He glided down the stairs, barely feeling
them beneath him. Soul and the Man of Mist were fighting, or
rather, Soul was being tossed around like a rag doll as the Man of
Mist laughed.

He wasn’t real. He saw that now. The Man of
Mist, he wasn’t real at all. Sky walked forward, unnoticed by his
enemy.

Soul stood slowly in the corner, using the
wall as support. From the way he stood up straighter and looked
away, Sky could tell that he had seen him, but wisely said nothing.
Sky continued his journey, step by blissful step towards the black
robes, no longer swirling or menacing.

“
Where are you really?”
Sky said calmly.

The Man of Mist turned
towards him, his blank wooden face plainly visible now without
illusion to hide it. He was a puppet, and nothing more.

He lunged at Sky, but Sky
had no fear.

“
Where is your master?” He
grabbed the puppets hand as it was swung at him.

“
You will die!” It
screamed in his head.

The wooden fist he held in
his hand and the body attached to it – he wanted it to
disappear.

“
Sky, stop.” Soul’s voice
called out to him.

No. This puppet, this Man
of Mist, it had cost them so much. “You can hear me, right, puppet
master?”

The funny thing about molecules was that
while in order to create something, complex combinations must be
perfectly executed, but to destroy them, all it took was a little
more space.

“You started this,
remember that, and I will end it, slowly, and painfully. I will
find you.” They were his feelings put into words and his words were
put into action as the puppet, the once feared Man of Mist,
dissolved into nothing.

“
Skyden!” Soul yelled, but
he couldn’t hear him.

The world around him began to grow. He saw
it all, the building blocks of reality. How they fit, and how they
could be taken apart.

“
It’s taking you over, you
have to stop.” Soul’s hands were on his shoulders. “Zar, stop him.
Zar!”

He was right. His thoughts
had become disorganized and full of chaos. He was losing
control.

You need to stop. Close
it. Deny the Snow!
Zar yelled into his
thoughts.

Sky placed a hand on his
stomach, he felt the blood, he felt real. That’s right. He belonged
to this world. He was a part of the Living. Sky closed his eyes and
clutched at where he had been stabbed, by Sara’s knife. He needed
to stay - he needed to see her again, to see Al and his dad. He
needed to stay in the Living. He needed to live.

Chapter
Thirty-
Eight

Al knew they were done for. Their current
position at the edge of the town square had been chosen after
careful strategic planning to be the prime location to protect the
townspeople, but now with their limits close at hand, he realized
that they had backed themselves into a corner.

Sara and Roland had joined
them – Sara willingly, Roland only because he didn’t want to be
alone.

Time had lost meaning once the fighting
started. They had fought their way to the square in the center of
town with the plan of blocking the one route the soldiers would
have to the populace.

“
Stop backing up, Roland!”
Sara shoved his gangly form forward, into Al’s back.

“
Guys!” Al bellowed back,
his power and his patience were running low.

Without use of their guns and swords, the
soldiers were relying on brute strength, blunt objects and their
shear numbers to push them back…and it was working. The Captain was
using the last of his energy to create a barrier around them, but
Al knew even he was close to the end of his reserve.

“
We need to run!” Roland
cried desperately, pushing against Al’s back again, trying to shove
him aside. “This is stupid!”