Dying Is My Business (51 page)

“Don’t. You’d only be proving the oracles right. But they’re not right, Trent, this isn’t who you are. You’re not a killer.”

“I have a list of names that says otherwise,” I said. “But even so, it wouldn’t be murder to unmake this world. It would be
mercy
. Watch.”

It took no effort at all to reknit the threads below me with a thought, joining them together in a new pattern. The ground shook, and long, sharp fragments of stone burst up out of the crevasse, forming a crooked fence of giant stone spears. Bethany gasped and took a step back from it. She was afraid of me. She was right to be.

Philip came at me from out of nowhere, moving so fast I almost didn’t see him. I’d been wondering where he was. Had he reached me, he could have done some serious damage, but I didn’t let him get that far. There were threads all around him. I bent two of them, and Philip came to a sudden stop in midair, as if he’d hurled himself into an invisible wall. I plucked a thread, and down he went, tumbling to the ground. The threads inside a vampire were different, I noticed, darker in hue, and the atoms they bound burned colder, brighter. It was beautiful, in its own way.

Isaac came at me next, running over a nearby hill. The mage’s entire body crackled with an energy only I could see—magic, shimmering inside him like a star, pure, uninfected. He threw a spell my way, a bright burst of searing light, but I worked a few threads and the spell dissipated. Gabrielle attacked then, wielding the morningstar with her good arm. I sent her sprawling into the dirt next to Philip.

“Stop it!” Bethany yelled. “Stop it, all of you!”

There was so much anger in her voice that it pulled my attention back to her. Isaac’s, too. He lowered his crackling hands, and Philip and Gabrielle stood up, brushing dirt off their clothes.

“You’re not going to unmake the world, Trent, because you’re
not
a killer,” Bethany insisted. “That’s not who you are. I know it’s not.”

“You don’t know me,” I said.

“But I do.” She walked closer, skirting around the jagged spears of rock until she was right under me. She wasn’t afraid anymore. “Do you want to know why I kept you around after the power inside you almost killed me? Or why I didn’t kick you out after you drew your gun on me? It’s because despite everything, I saw something good in you. I saw who you could be if you only gave yourself a chance.”

I looked down at her, concentrating until the atoms-filled silhouette was gone and I could see her face again. “But the oracles…”

“To hell with them. Believe me, I’ve been called every name in the book. I know what it’s like. When you’re a kid and you’re different, the other kids make sure you know it, every single day. It’s hard not to let it get to you when someone calls you an abomination. It’s hard not to internalize it, but it’s normal. It’s human.”

“What if I’m not human?” I asked.

“What if you
are
? Would it make your life easier? Would it make you a different person? You still have free will, Trent. What matters isn’t
what
you are, it’s
who
you are, right now, in this moment. What matters are the choices we make. That’s what defines us. Nothing else.”

I felt myself calming, and sensed the new power inside me growing calmer, too. A moment later, the white fire in my eyes, nose, and mouth sputtered and died out.

“Now,” Bethany said, putting her hands on her hips, “are you going to stop this and come down from there, or am I going to have to pull you down myself?”

The threads around me started to vanish, but a split second before my vision returned to normal, the world seemed to break open, and I saw what lay behind its mask. I saw seven titanic figures, seven pairs of eyes watching, always watching, and an empty space where an eighth figure should have been. Then it was gone, and everything took on solid shapes again. Unable to stay afloat, and unsure how I’d managed it in the first place, I fell out of the air and onto the ground at Bethany’s feet.

She knelt beside me and helped me up. I stumbled on weak legs, and she steadied me. “I’ve got you.”

“Thanks,” I said. “I don’t think I could have stopped if you hadn’t…” I trailed off, words failing me again.

Bethany gave me a wry smile. “See what happens? I leave you alone for five minutes and you almost destroy the world.”

I smiled back, but it was halfhearted. Inside, I felt unstable and unsure of myself. Was my self-loathing so strong that I’d nearly taken the world apart because of it?

“Is it gone now?” she asked.

I shook my head. The power was still with me, I could feel it burning inside me like a low flame, but I couldn’t reach it, couldn’t make it do what it did before. It was as if the power had gone dormant. “It’s still in me, but it’s under control.”

“Be careful,” she said. “I’m serious. There’s a reason no mortal has ever tried to carry Ancient magic. It’s volatile. Dangerous.”

I nodded to let her know I understood. She went to make sure Isaac, Gabrielle, and Philip were all right. I was going to have some apologizing to do to the team. Again. At this point, it was practically a pastime.

My boot kicked something that tinkled along the ground. I looked down and saw the thin, delicate ammonite shell lying shattered on the ground where it had fallen. I knelt and sifted through the tiny pieces, but there were too many of them for the amulet to be salvaged. Damn. I hadn’t had a choice, taking it off had been the only way to stop Stryge, but Bethany’s little charm had changed everything, even if only for a moment. Losing it stung. We hadn’t even had the chance to come up with a name for it. I sighed, and was about to stand up again when the sound of something cutting rapidly through the air caught my attention. Before I could react, an arrow embedded itself in the dirt right in front of me.

I jumped to my feet. Melanthius stood on a mound of broken Cloisters stones, an archer’s bow in his hands. He pulled another arrow from the quiver strapped to his back, notched it into the bowstring, and sent it flying at Bethany. She jumped aside, but the arrow tore the sleeve of her shirt and drew a line of blood across her shoulder. She gasped, but it was only a flesh wound. She ran for cover behind one of the big, jagged stones sticking up from the crevasse.

Either Melanthius was a bad shot or he was trying to get our attention. I figured it was the latter. Well, now he had it.

He reached for another arrow, but before he could pull it out, a dark blur rushed out of nowhere and slammed into him. Philip ripped the bow from Melanthius’s hands and punched him across the golden skull mask. Melanthius stumbled backward and almost fell, but Philip grabbed him by the front of his cloak and pulled him back up. While Melanthius was still dazed, Philip took a piece of rope out of his pocket, the same rope his own hands had been tied with earlier, and used it to tie Melanthius’s hands behind his back. It struck me as a fitting irony.

The rest of us gathered by Stryge’s body as Philip approached with his captive. Melanthius’s golden skull mask regarded me stoically, emotionlessly.

“This isn’t over,” he hissed.

“Wanna bet?” I asked.

“As a matter of fact,” Melanthius said, “I do.”

On the ground between us, Stryge sat up suddenly. I jumped back.

Stryge’s eyes opened, and where they had once blazed with white fire, they now glowed red with Reve Azrael’s necromancy. The thirty-foot-tall revenant rose to its feet, towering over us.

“My God,” Isaac breathed.

“Stay back, all of you!” I shouted. They backed away. Melanthius chuckled inside his mask.

Reve Azrael looked down at me through Stryge’s eyes. She spoke through the Ancient’s wide, tusked mouth. “I owe you a debt of gratitude, little fly. My plan would never have worked without the one weapon that could kill an Ancient. You.”

“You knew what I would do to stop him,” I said, fuming. “You used me.”

“You
exist
for me to use.” She turned her enormous host body to the others and said, “Release Melanthius.”

“Why don’t you come and get him?” Philip snarled back.

Bethany, still holding my gun, lifted it and squeezed off two shots. The bullets bounced off Stryge’s withered skin.

Reve Azrael laughed. “Tiny, foolish thing. You think because this body is dead its hide is any more vulnerable? It is still the body of an Ancient. It contains vast, inexhaustible power. There is no limit to what I can do.” She started toward Bethany. Bethany backed up, but Reve Azrael stopped suddenly. She looked down at her host body. “Wait. Something is wrong. This body is nothing but an empty shell. What has become of Stryge’s power? Where is it?”

I looked up at her. “Take a guess.”

She turned her glowing red eyes to me. There was so much anger in them, so much rage, that they glowed all the brighter for it.

“You thought you had the perfect plan, but there’s one thing you forgot to take into account,” I said. “Ancients aren’t like the rest of us. Their magic is different from ours.” She stared at me, still not comprehending. “Ancients were the first living creatures in the world, right? They’re millions of years old. Magic alone couldn’t have kept them alive all this time. It’s the strength of their life force; it’s part of what they are. Their life force
is
their magic. And now it’s in me.”

“Of course,” she sneered. “That is what you do, isn’t it? Absorb their life forces for yourself? Steal what rightfully belongs to others? You are a thief, little fly, in more ways than one.”

“Maybe,” I said. “But what does that make you? Just another talking corpse.”

Reve Azrael bellowed in rage, furious that she’d been denied Stryge’s power. Her anger distracted her, and Isaac took advantage of it. He pushed out his hand. Crackling arcs of electricity flared from his palms and hit Reve Azrael in the back. She roared louder and turned to face the mage. He hit her with the spell again. This time it knocked her backward. Arms spinning wildly, she fell onto one of the huge, sharp stone fragments. The weight of her body coupled with the unyielding strength of the stone drove it into her back and out through her chest.

She struggled and squirmed to pull herself off the sharp stone, but she couldn’t. She was stuck. Good. I wanted her to suffer the way she’d made others suffer. I wanted her to hurt. But this was only a host body, not the real thing. I had no idea if she could even feel pain through a revenant.

She stared at me angrily. “You have Stryge’s power, so why do you not use it? Why hesitate? You could unmake me in a heartbeat, break me apart into dust!”

As tempting as that sounded, it wasn’t an option. I couldn’t control the power inside me. But she didn’t have to know that.

“Because you have something I want,” I replied. “No more games. No more evading the question. Tell me the truth. What do you know about me?” She didn’t answer. I tried again. “Who am I?”

“Trent, just end this,” Isaac said, coming forward.

“Wait,” I barked at him. He stopped where he was, but he didn’t retreat. “We found your homunculus, Reve Azrael. I know that’s how you kept tabs on me, but it doesn’t explain everything. The only time you could have hidden it on me was when you came to the house in Bennett’s body, but that doesn’t make sense. You wouldn’t have come to the house unless you already knew I was there. How did you know?”

She stayed silent.

“Trent,” Isaac warned again, but I lifted my hand to stop him.

“Tell me the truth,” I demanded. “How do you know me? Who am I?”

“Allow me to take Stryge’s power back from you, and I will give you all the answers you seek,” she said.

“Stryge’s body is ruined,” I said. “His power is useless to you now.”

“I can still read his memories,” she said. “These wounds and broken bones mean nothing. Once Stryge’s power is returned to his body, they won’t matter.”

“Trent!” Isaac shouted. His palms began to glow. “End this, or I will!”

“It still burns inside you,” Reve Azrael said. “But it is not made for mortal bodies. In time, the power will consume you from within. It will destroy you. Give it to me, save yourself, and I will tell you everything.”

I watched her lips curl into a smile, and felt cold inside. She was using me again, manipulating me to get what she wanted, and she would keep on doing it as long as she had something she could hold over me. I’d been down that road before, and I didn’t like it the first time. Isaac was right, it was time to put an end to this.

Willem Van Lente’s sword lay on the ground nearby. I walked over to it and picked it up.

“Listen to what I am offering you,” Reve Azrael insisted.

I carried the sword back over to her.

“Fool, this is the body of an Ancient,” she sneered. “A sword forged by man will do nothing.”

“It’s no ordinary sword,” I said. “Search Stryge’s memories. I’m sure you’ll recognize it.”

Her eyes went wide as it came to her. “No,” she shrieked. “I have worked too hard and waited too long to be cheated like this! It’s not fair!”

“Lady, if you’ve got a problem with the way life treats you, get in line.” I lifted the sword up over my head, its blade pointing down between her eyes.

“Wait! Do this and I will never tell you what you want to know! You will live out the rest of your days knowing how close you came to the truth before you threw it all away.”

“I’ll live,” I said, and drove the sword deep into Stryge’s forehead, into his brain, severing Reve Azrael’s link to his body. The red glow faded from Stryge’s eyes as her consciousness fled. I pulled the sword free, the barbs on the back of the blade caked with thick grue.

God, I thought, we did it. I couldn’t believe it. Somehow, against all odds, we’d actually saved New York City. I laughed with relief, and nearly dropped to my knees in exhaustion.

A sudden, pained cry startled me. I turned around to see Melanthius standing behind Philip, holding a small silver dagger to the vampire’s neck. Loops of severed rope dangled from Melanthius’s wrists. He inched backward toward the ruins of the Cloisters, keeping a firm grip on his hostage. Bethany lifted the gun again, drawing a bead on Melanthius’s gold skull mask over Philip’s shoulder, but she didn’t fire.