Fallen (28 page)

I sat in a chair beside Oliver’s bed,
resting my head upon my fist. I had been daydreaming when Oliver
finally roused.

“Where am I?” he asked.

I watched him, looking for any signs of the
symptoms that had plagued him during and after the Lycan attack
yesterday. He appeared to be fine now.

He looked over at me after a cursory
examination of the bedchamber. “Are we in Tidus?” he asked.

I nodded.

“How long have I—?”

“Nearly twelve hours,” I reported. “We
thought you were going to die, Oliver.”

He sat up in the bed. “Highly unlikely,” he
said. “After all, that is the purpose of the spell key. If I died
then the dolls would be lose their hold on the mortal world and
their captives. The humans would be returned and the dolls would
perish. At least I think that’s what would happen.”

We stared at each other for a moment.

“You know what must be done,” he said.

“We could find the humans and set them
free,” I offered.

“We do not know where they are being
held.”

“I believe I may have seen a human trying to
escape,” I said. “It was when Tom first brought me into the Fae
realm. The man was covered in gray mud.”

“And you can bring us to this place?” Oliver
asked.

I didn’t say anything. I had no idea how to
find that place again, no idea at all.

“There are so many different places within
the Fae realm that have been created by Descendants and the Fallen.
We would easier find a needle in a haystack.”

“There must be some other way,” I said.

“This is what the Mystic indicated.”

“He isn’t all knowing is he?”

“Brody,” he said, “I have to die so that
countless others can live.”

“We don’t know that your death would free
them,” I argued.

“I think yesterday’s events tell us exactly
that,” Oliver said. “Black managed to bind me to his dolls. Any
attack on them becomes an attack on me as they draw from my
energies to reanimate.”

I stared at him, having no good argument to
put forth. By all accounts, Oliver’s logic appeared to be sound.
The truth was that I had already been thinking the same thing. I
just didn’t want to admit defeat, and Oliver becoming a martyr
certainly seemed like defeat to me.

He moved to the edge of the bed on my side
and flashed a grin. “Don’t worry, Brody,” he said. “Don’t lose
faith.”

“What?”

“You know, for so long I’ve held onto the
belief that I could never be more than the sum of my heritage. A
monster born of monsters. I held that against our Creator—believed
it was impossible that any Descendant could be anything more. But
when you told us of your faith, I began to wonder if that belief
was really true.”

“I don’t understand.”

“When we went to Tartarus and found that you
were even closer to Southresh than me, I realized that your
heritage had nothing to do with your ability to trust the Almighty.
So, why should my heritage prevent me doing the same?”

I smiled. “It shouldn’t.”

“True,” he said. “That’s why I’ve since come
to trust him as my savior and lord as you have.”

I hadn’t been expecting to hear such a
profession from Oliver. I couldn’t help smiling, despite the
situation we now found ourselves in.

“So, if this is his will that my life should
be forfeit for those mortals that have been abducted by Black, then
what better way for me to fight this war than to trust
our
lord and do what is required of me to win?”

My smile faded. “I just wish there was some
other way.”

“So do I,” Oliver replied. “But I can’t see
any.”

We sat together for a moment, saying
nothing. I searched every cranny of my mind for some alternative,
but ultimately came up short.

“I also hope that you will do what is
necessary, Brody,” Oliver said.

“What do you mean?”

“You must be the one to kill me.”

Two hours later, sitting in one of the many
beautiful parks located in Tidus, I still could not fathom the task
that had been set before me.

“You must be the one to kill me,” Oliver had
said within his bedchamber.

“What? Are you insane?” had been my
immediate reply.

But he had been completely serious. He felt
that I had been sent to perform this task by God. As his near
kinsman through Southresh’s bloodline, I felt compelled to agree
that it might be the case. However, every fiber of my being also
wanted to save my older half brother from this fate.

If for no other reason, I needed Oliver. I
realized this to be a selfish reason, but it was true nonetheless.
Who else could teach me all that I needed to know about who I was?
Oliver possessed the same abilities and had mastered them long ago.
I would be lost without him to train me. And, if this sacrifice did
not end the war, who would face down Black?

That last question was one I had actually
asked Oliver.

“I understand your concerns, Brody, but I’m
not sure how to answer. My death will only do away with the spell
that allows the dolls to function in the mortal world and hold the
humans in the Fae realm. Black would remain.”

“Then how can your death possibly be the
Lord’s answer to our problem,” I reasoned.

“I would have to agree with Brody,” Sophia
said.

She had come to the park with us.

“Believe me when I say, I would love to
agree with you both,” Oliver said. “I don’t want to die, but I
can’t see any other way of freeing the humans. Please don’t make
this harder than it has to be.”

I sulked for the next few minutes, at least
as long as Oliver was willing to allow.

“We’ve no time for this,” Oliver insisted.
“I need to show you something while I can.”

“What is it?” I asked, eager to change the
subject and genuinely curious about anything new I might learn.

Oliver stood on the pavement before us,
looking quite serious. I noticed a bit of concentration in his
expression, as though whatever he was about to do required some
extra effort beyond his usual fare. In a moment, a bluish
transparent sphere formed around him. Had I not known better, I
would have thought Oliver was standing in the middle of a giant
soap bubble.

I stood up, walking over to him, peering
with interest at the conjuring.

Oliver smiled with satisfaction. “Well, what
do you think?”

“It’s very pretty,” Sophia observed.

“Quite,” I said, grinning, “but what is
it?”

Oliver offered a wan smile. “Protection and
more.”

Admittedly, I almost giggled. I thought,
perhaps, this was simply a joke, something to lighten the mood.

“Looks like a balloon,” I said. “Will it
make you talk funny?”

“Try to pop it then,” Oliver dared.

I considered my options. I could poke it
with a finger, but I might very well lose a finger, since I had no
idea what this bubble actually was. I opted instead for a
sword—something big and flashy. I held out my hand and put a bit of
my own concentration into the conjuring. Realizing the powerful
being I was descended from had bolstered my confidence quite a
bit—not to mention the fight with Southresh’s zombies.

A brilliant silver sword materialized in my
hand from nothing. It was heavy, but not too much. Using both
hands, I brandished my weapon before Oliver just to see if he
really wanted me to go through with it. He arched an eyebrow and
gave me an amused look that sealed the deal.

I put all my strength into my swing and
struck the blue bubble surrounding him. I’m not exactly sure what
happened. The next thing I knew, Sophia was helping me up off of
the ground. Oliver was still standing within his bubble, but trying
not to laugh at me.

“What happened?” I managed as Sophia helped
me to a sitting position.

“You tried to pop the bubble,” she said. “It
didn’t work.”

That much I knew already. My silver sword
was lying on the ground about twenty feet away. Only half of the
blade was left—a scorched smoldering shard that had definitely met
its match in Oliver’s bubble.

“When you struck it, you flew backwards onto
the ground, shaking like cold winter,” Sophia continued.

I looked up at Oliver as I slowly got to my
feet with Sophia’s assistance. A slight grin crossed my lips as I
straightened.

“All right,” I said, “show me how you did
that.”

I watched with growing frustration as the
blown glass vase vibrated. My full concentration was on this
vessel, attempting an exercise that Oliver had left me with over
two hours before. Gradually, cracks began to spider web throughout
the glass. That was good—a key part of the exercise.

The pile of broken glass scattered nearby
testified to my previous failures. I had shattered some with
explosions. Others had been managed better, but had fallen apart
nonetheless.

The exercise had been for me to web the
glass with fractures under strict control and then reseal them all
so that nothing would appear to be wrong with it. Oliver had shown
me the exercise. I had watched as he took one of these same vessels
and concentrated. The glass fractured throughout in a precise way,
and then the entire process of fracturing reversed before my eyes.
When Oliver had finished, I examined the vase and found no visible
flaws. But it was easier to watch than do myself.

The glass vase fractured under my careful
watch. A little more, I told myself, but not too much. Honestly, I
was expecting to lose it on this one just as I had on the others. I
went past the point of no return, when the web of fractures should
have caused the vase to break apart. This time I held the original
shape of the piece in my mind and thereby held the structure
together.

Only my will was keeping it together now.
That had to be the secret. Oliver had mentioned this, of course,
but I had been too eager to try the exercise for myself, expecting
it to be as easy as it looked. I had to split my thoughts in two.
One part of me to control the fractures while the other maintained
the original shape. Now, came the part of the exercise I had not
gotten to before—resealing all of the fractures.

I paused, holding the structure together,
leaving off of the fracturing. That part of my mind began to urge
the glass to become whole again. It took a moment to shift my
thinking clearly, but then it began to happen. I wouldn’t say it
was done as smoothly as Oliver. However, I did manage to reseal the
fractures until none remained.

Finally, I let go of the whole thing with my
mind. If only my will was maintaining it, the vase would break
apart. There was no one with me watching. Oliver had insisted on no
distractions until I successfully completed the exercise. I removed
my will completely from the glass and stared at it, waiting for the
inevitable disintegration to occur. Seconds passed, then minutes.
The vase remained whole.

I walked over to it and picked it up. The
glass didn’t fracture anew. It seemed as good as when I had begun.
I smiled brightly, unable to keep myself from it. I ran to Oliver
with my prize as fast as I could. Now, he would teach me the art of
the bubble.

After I had cleaned up all of the glass
shards I had produced in the park courtyard, Oliver had informed me
that we would now produce Extensions.

“Extensions?” I asked. “Do you mean the
bubbles?”

“If you like that better,” he replied.
“However, they are technically known as Extensions because they are
primarily extensions of your inner self.”

“Okay,” I said. I really didn’t understand
that explanation at all. Oliver seemed to realize this would be the
case.

“Do you know anything about insects, Brody?”
he asked.

I nodded. I did know a few things.

“Insects,” he continued, “wear their
skeletons on the outside of their bodies, rather than on the
inside, like we do. This gives them a kind of armor plating that’s
tough to penetrate. It keeps their insides safe.”

I nodded. It made sense to me.

“The extension, or bubble, acts as a kind of
exoskeleton, allowing our physical bodies to remain safe on the
inside.”

“Sort of a shield?” I asked.

“In a way, but not exactly,” Oliver replied.
“A Shield isn’t a part of the person. This Extension is literally
like pushing your spiritual self out in a form that surrounds you.
It’s only as strong as you are, and you will feel the damage it
takes.”

“Oh,” I said, feeling less enthusiastic
about the bubble technique than before.

“Don’t misunderstand me,” Oliver continued.
“Your inner spiritual self is far stronger than your mortal body.
It is the part of you that is eternal, whereas these bodies are
actually quite weak in comparison. Remember the sword you used
against me?”

“Your body couldn’t have repelled it like
that, but your inner self could,” I answered, feeling a bit more
confidence with the concept.

“Exactly,” Oliver replied. “In a way, you
are merely turning yourself inside out, putting forth your
strongest part.”

“It sounds complicated,” I said.

“True, but that’s where the glass exercise
comes in. The ability to split your mind apart and concentrate on
several things at once is essential to learning how to extend
yourself.”

Oliver then extended his bubble again, as he
had before.

“How do I do that?” I asked.

Oliver looked at Sophia who was watching
about ten feet away. “You should stand behind me, Sophia,” he
said.

She looked at Oliver and then me. “Okay,”
she said.

“Trust me, you’ll probably thank me later,”
he added.

Sophia got up and walked over to stand
behind Oliver’s Extension bubble. She peered curiously over his
shoulder through the bubble at me.