Resonance 4th Edits - Bleeding Worlds Bk 3 (26 page)

He didn’t know if he could smile, but it was the impulse he had. A tiny, knowing smile that said she was right. Yes, Gwynn Dormath needed his fair share of saving. He’d like to think he’d done some saving in return. Maybe things were balanced—but probably not.

“Nothing is ever balanced,” Sophia said. “It’s sort of the point. All of existence is the push and pull of trying to find a balance. If we achieved it, everything would simply end, because what would be the point of doing anything more? We’d be too afraid of destroying the balance we’d found.”

He felt the softness of her pressing against his back. Her left arm curled around his waist.

“Do you know where you are?” she asked.

“The Veil,” he answered.

Though it felt too real to just be his mind interpreting energy. Her warm breath tickled his ear.

“More specific than that.”

“I thought you said I was dying. Am I dead?”

“Just a little bit.” She sighed contently, nuzzling her cheek against his back. “Right now, you’re flowing through Yggdrasil—not travelling its branches, but through, like the trunk was hollow and you were falling through.”

“Is that a good thing?” he asked.

“Mhmm. You gave yourself, and it accepted. It’s why I’m here too—I gave myself for myself.”

“So is this Heaven?”

He felt her shoulders move as she shrugged.

“Maybe. I guess it’s open to interpretation. I don’t mind it right now.”

Heat filled Gwynn’s cheeks, along with a healthy dose of guilt.

“Don’t feel guilty,” Sophia said. “We’re not doing anything wrong. Just two close friends holding each other to keep the scary darkness away. Besides, I’m still a part of her too. Just think of me as the dream version.”

Her right arm slid beneath the remains of his own.

“Open your eyes,” she said. “And look to your right arm.”

Had his eyes been closed this whole time? That didn’t seem right. But he did as she asked.

Darkness still surrounded him on all sides. He couldn’t make out any details of the inside of the tree. But looking toward where his right hand should’ve been, he could see himself. There was the remains of his right arm, non-existent just below the elbow. But Sophia placed her arm inline with his own, palm facing up, and her arm bent just enough, it created the illusion his arm was still intact. Though softer and more delicate.

She clenched her hand. When she opened it again, a series of runes covered her palm. From this initial point, they began to fade into view ascending her arm and moving up the exposed flesh of his own arm.

“Sophia, what’s happening? Are you an—?”

“Anunnaki? Oh no, not one of those. I told you, you needed me. I’m helping you see what you couldn’t because of your injury. And also to guide you. Only one other person has managed it, and I doubt he would share his knowledge.”

“You mean Odin? But how do you know what to do?”

“I watched him,” she said with a mischievous tone.

“How is that possible?” Gwynn asked.

“You had it explained to you—time isn’t the same in the Veil.” She hummed and hawed a moment. “Ok, so, in the physical world, time is like a raging river. It always moves forward and the speed of the water makes it impossible to swim the opposite way. The Veil is like a calm lake—well, more like several oceans. Everything is here, every time and event. You just need to know where to dive, how deep to dive, and what rock to look under. It’s not easy, but it’s possible. Especially when you actually live here.”

“So could I travel back in time? Could I destroy Cain before he became so powerful?”

“It’s possible. But you understand the ramifications of that decision, don’t you? I mean, Marduk told you Cain originated the bloodline of the Anunnaki. You kill him as a child, you end all the Anunnaki who ever existed—yourself included. The universe hates paradoxes. It’s worked damn hard to compensate just for Cain and Adrastia—I doubt it would be so accommodating for you.”

“But all the death and suffering he’s caused…” The words caught in Gwynn’s throat, trapped by the accompanying thought,
all the lives I’ve taken.

“His place is a part of this existence. No world that has been, or currently exists, is free from his touch. Human history continued and advanced. Maybe that wouldn’t be true if Cain and Adrastia never arrived in the past. There’s only one option—it’s not going back in time, it’s starting over from scratch.”

“What do you mean?”

Her sigh made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

“It’s what the Norns were trying to tell you, in their cryptic, stupid, confusing way. There is no undoing the damage done to the Veil so long as the current reality continues. And truthfully, it won’t continue long.”

Gwynn gripped her arm around his waist, meaning to pull her around to face him, but she resisted.

“What the hell are you saying?”

“The Veil is going to collapse, flattening every remaining world. Everything you think of as
reality
is going to be destroyed. And there’s no stopping it.”

“That can’t be true,” he said through grit teeth. “If that’s true, what the hell is the point? What am I supposed to do that’s so damn important if it’s hopeless?”

“She told you, didn’t she?”

“Who?”

“Adrastia. She told you about Hoddmimis Holt?”

Gwynn thought back to his conversation with Adrastia on the hillside. Her quest. He’d refused to participate. Had she lied to him about being unsure if things were ending?

“She did,” he said. “But I refused to listen. To me, it sounded like an insane quest. But she thought Cain would search, and if he found it, he would end existence to use it.”

“True. Hoddmimis Holt is real—I can tell you that much. But the path must be sought, it cannot be skipped or given. But I won’t spare your feelings like Adrastia did—you must find the Holt, or else the power to bring rebirth to existence will be in Cain’s hands. Can you imagine what that would be like?”

He tried to. Nothing good came to mind.

“Don’t bother,” she said, ending his imaginings. “Because he wants nothing. He would enter the Holt and wish for nothingness. Balance.”

“Why? I mean, he strikes me as an egomaniac. Wouldn’t he wish for a world where he was king…or a god?”

Her laugh was small and lacking in joy.

“To be honest, if that was true, I don’t think the Veil would help you—they’d be fine with him pursuing his goals. All they care about is their connection to the physical. They crave change and advancement. Their connection to us provides that. Without us, they are stagnant and useless.”

“So why don’t they just restart the world? I mean, it started somewhere, right? Isn’t there some kind of God? Or was it really all just an accident?”

“Regardless of who, or what, created the physical reality, it created the Holt as a reset. We have free will, and the Holt is the ultimate expression of that—we literally have the choice to make something new, keep the same, or just end it all.”

“What?”

Gwynn’s body shook. He couldn’t tell if it was anger or hopelessness.

“Who the hell gets to decide who’s worthy of that decision? It seems like a pretty stupid plan.”

“Maybe, but it’s the plan. So you can decide to be a part of it, or accept the outcome of sitting on the sidelines.”

“No, I can’t accept this. There has to be a way to save things.”

“There isn’t,” Sophia said, her voice rising angrily. “If you think I’m lying, if you believe I let go of my life because I
felt
like it, then I’ll leave you—and best of luck ever escaping on your own.”

“Sophia, I…”

“You’re being selfish, Gwynn Dormath. Selfish and cowardly. That’s always been your problem. You were scared of your powers, so you ran away. You were scared of getting too attached to someone and losing them, so you hid. Instead of staying to help Fenrir defeat the man who stole everything from you, you ran away to a different planet to play house, thinking the real world would never find you. Even as far back as when you faced Elaios, you were ready to let her strike you down—just because you thought it was the ultimate way to run away. Dammit, you can be better than this. When you flew into the world killer, you didn’t do it for yourself, you did it for everyone else. This is the same. You can’t think of only yourself, or your wife, or even your child. You need to think of the bigger picture. You know every one of us has a soul. You know if we die, a part of us lives on and can be reborn. So why would you fight against this so much?”

She took a few breaths, gradually slowing them with each intake.

“Will your family, as it is right now, end?” she said gently. “Yes, it will. But you have the power to ensure a beautiful new world for them to be reborn into. Or you can give them nothingness. If you choose that option, it’s selfish and cruel.”

Gwynn shook and his chest felt like it was trying to crush his spine. He tried to find the right words, but nothing sounded right—he doubted they’d escape his constricted throat anyway.

Sophia’s hand pressed against his abdomen just a little harder, pulling her closer to the point where even his own body had difficulty telling where he ended and she began.

“I’m sorry I have to be so blunt,” she said. After a small giggle she added, “But you have to admit, it’s better than those Norns and their talking in circles.”

“I guess.”

He couldn’t allow himself to feel any humor or joy. He did believe her—and yes, her bluntness was better than having the Norns dance around things. But believing her meant this life was running out. He would lose Sophia again—lose Allison.

“Do you think I’ll find them in that new world?” he asked.

“If the universe wills it, then it will happen.”

“That’s not very reassuring.”

“Well, look at it this way,” she said, “if you create the universe, then your will to find them will be a part of it.”

“Right. I suppose.” He tried to muster a smile. “So which Sophia will I meet—you, or my wife?”

“Silly boy. If you do the job right, you’ll have us both wrapped up in one, beautiful, package.”

“Beautiful, eh? Is that a request?”

The nails on her left hand bit playfully at his abdomen.

“Don’t push me,” she said. “You’re not done this yet. I could still leave you wandering around in the dark.”

Gwynn closed his eyes, willing his heart to slow and for the quivering in his stomach to cease. He focused on making his inhalations and exhalations slow and steady.

“I hope you understand,” he said, “it’s not that I don’t believe you. But I’m going to fight this. I refuse to just accept reality is doomed. You can call me selfish, and that’s probably true. And yes, I’ve done my fair share of running away. Maybe Xanthe is also right, I may be boring as hell. But if I have the power to stop this from happening, I will. I’ll make sure Cain dies because any reality is better off without him. But I won’t, no, I can’t, accept this so easily.”

“Of course you can’t,” she said. “Part of me would be disappointed if you did. Just promise me you won’t lose track of Cain. Stopping him must be your priority. Because if he gets to the Holt…”

“Ok,” he said. “Let’s get this done. Apparently I’m on a tight schedule.”

In the brief space between the first and second series of explosions, Fuyuko was behind Jason, unlocking the restraining collar from his throat.

“Fuyuko Takeda,” Quetzalcoatl roared. “What do you think you’re doing.”

Fuyuko stood straight.

“In case it’s escaped your notice, we’re under attack,” she said. “And this man needs you. Meaning he’s the closest thing we have to someone we can trust. We have no idea how deep Hildy’s conspiracy goes. Every guard in this place could be on her side.”

Jason got to his feet, rubbing the red spot where the collar had rubbed his neck.

“She probably had a monitor connected to her heart,” Jason said. “When it stopped, it activated the sequence for the bombs. I’m guessing they aren’t just meant to confuse us or take out some of the staff. They’re probably a signal to anyone else on her side.”

“You men,” Quetzalcoatl barked at the guards in the room, “prepare to defend this room with your lives.”

Jason shot a sideway glance to Fuyuko and nodded.

The two launched toward opposite sides of the room just as two guards on each side raised their weapons.

Jason’s barbed whip slashed out, decapitating one guard as its tip slashed through his throat, then embedding itself in the head of the other.

Fuyuko’s spear split open the chest of one guard on her side, while daggers of ice blasted into the face of the other.

“Fuyuko, the door,” Jason said.

She was already moving, freezing the moisture in the air, building a thick layer of ice barring any further intrusions.

It was over before the remaining four guards were able to raise their weapons.

“Wait,” Quetzalcoatl shouted at them. “Explain,” he growled at Jason and Fuyuko.

“Those four weren’t the least bit surprised when the bombs went off,” Jason said.

Fuyuko added, “Their fingers were already twitching on the triggers as you pulled out her heart. I don’t think they cared enough to risk saving her, but they were ready to take action in the confusion of the bombings.”

“As best as I can tell,” Jason said, “these were the only loyal guards in the room. Or they were too cowardly to go through with their betrayal.”

“Which is it?” Quetzalcoatl asked them.

The men fell to their knees, right hands balled into a fist above their hearts.

“We are loyal and ready to die for you, our Lord.”

Quetzalcoatl looked with a raised eyebrow toward Jason.

Do you believe them?
the expression asked.

Jason nodded his approval.

Pounding came from the other side of the door.

“What do you think,” Jason said to Fuyuko, “friendlies or not?”

Fuyuko shrugged.

“Equal chance of being either. I could open the door and find out if you don’t mind getting messier.”

“I don’t care,” Jason said. “But I’m not in a big hurry to fight through thirty-seven floors of resistance. Is there any other way out of here?” he asked Quetzalcoatl.