Leviathan (Fist of Light Series) (11 page)

“
Might need some help here.”
I looked directly at Jeeves, and soon felt the reassuring weight of the scabbarded sword on my back.

Every step sent a lance of fire crawling up my body, followed closely by a dark wave of pain that bounced off my head and traveled back down to my toes. Trying to convince myself that pain was only a temporary affliction helped but didn't change the situation. The slim chance that Kathryne was looking, however, boosted my machismo pride to such insane levels that no amount of agony would keep me down. Drawing from reserves thought depleted and calling the minimal amount of Air needed, I leaped into the air and out of the ring. Reducing the force of impact was the most important part of the equation, mostly so I wouldn't be on the ground bawling when we would be making good on our escape. An enormous swarm of blackness was timed perfectly to the landing, which was far from comfortable. Hissing, I fought to retain balance, but inadvertently stepped on a foot and started falling backward.

In a hasty bid to save the day, I shot a whip-like strand of Air from my hand, wrapping around the nearest stable surface. Yanking with all my strength, I managed to stop my descent back into the pit, but whatever object halted my progress wasn't so lucky. Turning around, it became clear what had occurred.

“Ouch.” I stared down at the supernatural entity whose appendages were in some very peculiar directions. “Uh, sorry guys.” Pain forgotten, I shuffled over to the door. “No hard feelings, eh? Good show and all. Hope you all enjoyed.”

The assembled patrons we're
not
happy. They had come to see bloody dismemberments and had been rudely cheated of their due. It was my duty to therefore present them my desiccated body at the earliest opportunity. Obviously, I had some problems with that scenario and Hercules didn't seem to be interested in the possibility either. Moving my right arm cautiously, I latched onto the katana and pulled it free. Its gleaming edge made some of those with a lust for blood second-guess themselves, but not all. Then Hercules stepped up next to me with his own beast of a sword and again more splintered off from those willing to take their reparations in blood. We were trading on what they had seen one the sands, pure and simple. The question was whether it would be enough and that the bluff would hold up under any scrutiny. They didn't know we were on our last legs, but it didn't take a genius to discern that and we would soon be found out.

“Any day now, Jas,” I muttered as we took step by painful step back towards the opening behind us.

“Things are about to take a bad turn,” Hercules commented softly, stoic despite the circumstances.

“Fasten your seat belts and hold onto the restraining bar because it’s about to get freaky up in here,” Jas said, a certain bloodlust coloring his words.

And it did get freaky. Faster than any of us could react, the Bastille was stormed by a bunch of army types in camouflage, which seemed rather extraneous at the time. Horrendous screams broke out all over the place, along with cries of rage from the Dominus. Someone wasn't a happy camper regarding the ensuing proceedings. The attackers cut into the crowd with military-grade weapons, though some sported old-fashioned blades as well. They didn't stand a chance.

“I think that's our distraction.” I turned to Hercules and shared a stunned look.

We moved away from the gruesome, one-sided battle and limped together towards the exit, where Kathryne and Jas waited. Jas didn't look too good, almost as if he was battling the flu. His bloodshot eyes tracked the movements of the crowd, his concentration never wavering. Kathryne managed to look poised and unaffected, ready for anything. Behind them was Sanders, someone I doubted I’d ever see again in my life and whose presence here was extremely perplexing.

“Who are you, Sanders? Who are you
really
?”

T
he remaining portion of the day and night passed in a blur of extreme fatigue brought on by excessive blood loss and overextension of power. I'd never stretched my reserves so thin in such a short period. We traveled to an undisclosed location in a line of tinted SUVs, all of which screamed government. Hercules had decided to tag along, though he didn't have much choice in the matter. Mr. Sanders was largely reticent about exactly what his background was, though I was determined to confront him more forcefully on the issue come morning, when I could string more than a few sentences together without drooling. My fatigue dragged at me for the entire drive, and more than once I found myself nodding off during a conversation. Eventually, however, Jas dragged the story of my capture and subsequent fighting out of me.

Once Jas had been filled in, he explained what had happened since we’d been separated. Apparently, the man Kathryne confronted at the bar was an agent of the Aevum and had spotted her. That didn't bode well for our future relations with the guild of preternatural assassins. Now that they knew she was alive, they would assume she had failed in her duty. They would come after the both of us in vengeful fury. From what little Kathryne had told me of her past, their temper was kindled by failure of those in their ranks. I highly doubted there would be some divine mercy cast upon us, even though their original contractor had perished. It just wasn't good for their business when something of that caliber was left unfinished. Just one more thing to worry about on my growing list.

Noah had already fled the coop by the time Jas and Kathryne showed up at the mansion. Security was completely perplexed at his leaving, but then they would never had been able to discover his plans if he wished them to remain unaware. A note had been left at the scene. It described Noah's despair at having to leave unannounced at such an inopportune time, but also the necessity of the action. He had finally gotten a lead on the dark entities that had ghosted into his halls and murdered his wife all those years ago. But Noah couldn't allow us to come with him and wouldn't ever think to involve Kathryne in the affairs of his family. It was tersely described as his burden to bear, and his alone. Presented with the convoluted situation, Jas reached out to the one man he thought he could trust, a man who he had come to know and respect.

Enter the savior, Mr. Sanders, football coach at Adams high, but far more than anyone had ever expected. Apparently, the school was a honeycomb for the supernatural and he capitalized on that, an unnoticed observer. He worked for a deep underground sector of the government, one that was so top secret it was largely autonomous of the executive or any other branch. Their job was to vanquish all threats fielded by the supernatural community with extreme prejudice, to keep the mortal world largely ignorant of the supernatural. Any rational mind could see that there were minimal limitations on the decree. Not only that, but he was the head of operations as well, codename Headmaster. The name was slightly ironic, considering his position at the school. Sanders had been waiting for a chance to move in on the underground fighting scene and the tip from Jas gave him everything he needed. Jas helped track my location, although he was only able to provide a general location before the signal cut out entirely.

Jas saved the best, or more appropriately, worst, for last— the event that enabled my captors to sneak up and M99 me. After he had discovered the note left by his dad and contacted Sanders, they filled him in on what had caused the earthquake. In essence, it wasn't really an earthquake, but that was certainly part of it. Somehow, they had gotten live footage of the event, though Jas had admitted to complete ignorance of how it had been captured. My eyes widened in growing apprehension and certainty as the situation was explained in full. Out of nowhere a meteor appeared, one that never had showed up on the government’s tracking system. You see, NASA tracks a slew of meteors that are likely to come in close proximity to the Earth. Except this one just popped into existence above the bay and crashed into the ocean near the Golden Gate, a burning ball of fire and destruction. The thing was massive; its collision resulted in the flooding of city streets and houses claimed by the ocean. Its collision also set off the earthquake we experienced, due to the shifting of tectonic plates when it hit.

I found myself most incredulous when Jas began to describe the video footage he had been shown. A poisonous green and black wormhole slithered across the night sky and took up residence there, spewing the meteor into our dimension. It was no accident that this had happened. Even now, the tolling of The Call verified my belief that this had been a purposeful act. Whatever the entrance of that meteor into our world heralded, it wouldn't be good, I was certain.

Startling awake, I jolted upwards in the bed provided to me, my body enveloped in a cold sweat. Images of the previous night flashed through my mind, blended together with those from the Day of Darkness, as I'd come to label it. Memories of my pseudo-parents’ death were most prevalent, coupled with the not so pleasant experience of death. I fought to get my breathing back under control, reaching out to the calm solace of the inner mind. Transported out of reach from far-reaching worries that plagued the mind, I sat down on the swings semicircular support, reverting to the careless days of youth. In this place, I was able to think calmly, untouched by the strong emotions that plagued me when my control slipped. In the days following D-Day, I was a wreck, both mentally and physically. It had been a momentous task to deal with the ceaseless onslaught of emotions.

So, quite simply, I shut down the areas of my psyche causing my troubles, flicked them off like a psychological light switch. I tried not to dwell often on the repercussions, though promised myself that it was only temporary. To continue on with any semblance of normalcy, it had been necessary to harden my heart, focus solely on betterment, rather than those memories that sought to tear me asunder. Taking a deep, relaxed breath, I reestablished these bars on emotion and gazed sightlessly at the world. It had been an easy thing, to reconstruct the destroyed city, far simpler than expected. The image was burned into my mind, forever ingrained into my psyche. Our Realm would always be on the brink of destruction, whether brought there by the technology of man or something more supernatural in nature. City streets caved in, towering skyscrapers brought low, an ocean turned red by innumerable bloody deaths. Gruesome though it may be, this place was an important reminder, one that assured my vigilance against the Dark and its denizens.

The rusty chains of the swing creaked as I swung back and forth, my legs trailing along on the ground.

Jeeves flashed in, sitting down on the unoccupied swing. “This place is... unhealthy. You should erase such things from memory.”

“I think it’s rather comforting.” My eyes glowed dangerously, but Jeeves remained unruffled by the display.

A pregnant silence ensued. The only sound was the rhythmic creaking of the chains as we swung back and forth. “There are many ways the mind deals with pain of a mental nature. But eventually, it must be faced. If you traverse this path without changing your course, eventually all emotion will be wiped clean. You will no longer be anything resembling human, but a shambling parody, a monster in the guise of a human. Although painful experiences can be raw, chafing things, the most powerful emotions drive the world to betterment.”

I scuffed the ground, halted my movement. “It was really just an extension of my mental cubbyhole trick. I just stuffed the pain away, the memories that sought to bring me low. And it’s worked so far, hasn't it?”

“Has it? Have you not been waking up in cold sweats more often than not, those memories crowding tenaciously back into your mind? Have you not considered what will happen when they no longer attempt to return to their rightful place? It is quite simple, really: you will lose every painful memory, and whole sectors of your brain will disintegrate. Shying away from the discomfort of confronting the past will only bring ruin upon your present.”

The response was difficult to speak aloud, even within my demesne. “I don't know what will happen, if the barriers are dropped and emotion allowed to run rampant. I've lived such a long time without their touch already.”