Sweet Ruin (49 page)

“No, Josephine!”

Rune? When she spied him out of the corner of her eye, she waved her hand to pin him back.

“Gods damn it, don’t go in there!”

Before Jo could reach Val Hall, pressure collared her throat.
How?
She was ghosting! The wraiths were still.

Comprehension. No one had intended to let her in; they’d used that key to let someone
out
.

A figure emerged from Val Hall.

Thad??

He strode past the wraiths, but his boots weren’t touching the ground. Shadowy circles radiated around his eyes. His dark hair whipped over his pale face. His outline was faint.

Phantom
faint. He looked as evil as they came.
Dear God, he
is
like me.
She reached for him.
“Tha . . . Tha . . .”

His power slammed her to her knees, choking her. Her hands flew to her neck. She couldn’t get air!

Rune bellowed, struggling against her telekinesis. He would hurt Thad to save his mate! She directed more force at Rune.

“Harder, kid!” some woman called from Val Hall. “Pop her bobblehead off!”

He was listening to her.

“Take her down, Thad! Come on, like we taught you.”

The pressure increased, and Jo suddenly saw her future:

Thaddie’s going to kill me.

As dizziness overtook her and black dots swirled her vision, memories of the past erupted in her mind. Thad’s eyes were so like that woman’s.

Like their . . . mother’s. Jo had been with her right before her death!

Jo hadn’t been her name then. She’d been . . .
Kierra
. A little girl. An eight-year-old halfling in Apparitia, the murky realm of the phantoms.

“It’s worldend!” Kierra screamed. The sky was falling.
Failing.
Wounded stars plummeted to their deaths, as bright as sparks from a flint.

She clung to the edge of a vortex, her claws digging into the ground. All around her, more black holes hissed open, a wall of them, black upon black upon black.

Like spiders’ eyes.

She had no idea where those sucking holes would lead—rifts had appeared in the ether as Apparitia had begun to die—but escaping through one was their only chance at survival. Mother had never teleported to another plane, couldn’t evacuate them.

“Mother, come with me!” Some relentless force was crushing their dimension. A million screams had sounded with the first fires. Then the plains had jutted up into mountains. The nearby sea had risen, a pillar straight up into the sky. Flames had taken its place, blazing red for blue.

They’d heard rumors of a being who could crumble worlds using naught but his will.

With a pale hand raised to the night, her mother was
fighting back
. Between gritted teeth, she said, “No, I can’t falter! Or we’ll all be crushed!” If she teleported to Kierra, the dome she’d created above them might disappear.

She couldn’t even crawl to her daughter. One of her hands emitted power; the other clung to her wailing newborn son. Her telekinesis was more powerful than most phantoms’, but she was exhausted from delivering her baby just this morning.

Kierra’s telekinesis was weak and unpracticed, but she had to fight like her mother. “Let me help you!” If only she were older!

“Nooo, Kierra! Save your power!”

The black holes grew hungrier, sucking at Kierra’s legs. Her instinct clamored for her to become intangible. But she wasn’t old enough yet. “Just try to reach a portal!”

Mother shook her head, her dark hair streaming all around her. “I need to keep yours open . . . as long as possible!” The sky plummeted lower, like the ceiling of a collapsing tunnel.

Mother’s raised arm whipped in the howling gusts. “I’m going to let him go into the winds!” Her newborn? She wouldn’t dare! “I’ll direct him to you.”

“Noooo, I might miss him! Please . . . chance
any
portal!”

“Catch him, Kierra! I know you can do it. And then don’t ever let him go!”

With a cry, Mother released her precious baby to the winds. Just before he reached Kierra, huge spikes of crystal shot from the ground, sending him adrift by inches.

Kierra tensed her every muscle, readying to snare him. He was rising, heading for another vortex!

“Don’t let him go!” Mother screamed.

“No, no!” Kierra stretched, her fingers splayed. An inch of space separated them. . . .

She managed a spurt of telekinesis . . . she snagged his swaddling! “Got him!” She cradled him with one arm. He was so tiny, his screams so loud. He didn’t even have a name yet.

More explosions. Fire surged from the valley, racing toward them. Still holding up the sky, Mother went intangible. “You have to escape, dear one. You have to go.” Lava seeped from the ground all around her.

“Come now!” Kierra screamed, tears streaming down her face. But she knew her mother would remain to defend this vortex entrance as long as possible.

“Keep him close. Protect him. I love you both so much.” Flames towered around her ghostly form, about to swallow her. She mouthed,
Dear one, please go.

Kierra mouthed back, We
love you
. Past the flames, they met eyes.
I’ll protect him.

Mother nodded and forced a watery smile. Just before she was engulfed, she saw Kierra release her hold and the vortex suck her children in—

Flying. Spinning. Weightless.

Kierra clutched the baby close as she zoomed down a tunnel of black, twirling over and over.

Vortex chutes crisscrossed. Waves of lava flooded in from other openings, speeding toward her and the baby. “Ah, gods, no!” She used her telekinesis to attempt a bubble around them. She hunched over her brother as lava coated the shield, heat and pressure grinding down on it.

Please hold, please hold, please hold.

That crushing force beat against her telekinesis. She clenched her eyes shut and prayed over and over. . . .

The heat gradually faded. She dared to glance up, blinking in confusion. Crystal? Her power had met lava under pressure, creating a transparent shell. It wrapped around her and the baby. A cocoon.

Time passed. Their momentum slowed. When the baby quieted, the total silence hit Kierra, and she sobbed for her mother. For her friends. For her world. She tucked her brother into the folds of her cloak, determined to protect him.

Eons eked by as they floated in their crystal cocoon, but they didn’t age. Though she never felt hunger, she would cut her wrist and feed the baby.

Onward they floated.

Just when she’d decided they would be trapped in this existence forever, Kierra gazed up. Through the crystal, she witnessed . . . stars being born. She watched one planet learn how to spin. She could perceive the rotation of others. As if they danced for her.

Heaven.

She wept from the unutterable beauty.
There’s a curtain over the universe, but I’m seeing behind it.
Yet she wasn’t to know these secrets. They weren’t hers. No one child could bear that weight.

Splendor broke her mind.

Her body was robbed of power, her abilities stunted. Her memories withered.

She and the baby continued on, floating as worlds bloomed and waned. Before her lids finally slid shut, she saw the universe reflected in an infant’s half-closed eyes. . . .

Awakening.
Can’t feel my limbs!

After unending silence, she screamed, thrashing her legs. She jerked upright, banging her head against something. Crystal shattered all around her. Foreign sounds pained her sensitive ears. She hissed at the bright yellow light above.

Where am I? How have I come to be here? Ah, gods,
who
am I?

Movement in her arms. What was it? She opened her cloak to reveal a little infant just waking, blinking at her with hazel eyes, and all she knew was . . .

Love.

Her mother had given Thad to her! He and Jo had crossed the entire universe together. It couldn’t end like this! She gasped out, “Thaddie.” She reached for him, grasping, grasping—as she had fourteen years ago.

He stalked closer.

She couldn’t maintain her telekinesis against Rune for much longer. He was fighting so hard! “Thaddie . . .”

“Us. Thad-de-us. That’s my name.”

Air. Need air.
Rune was breaking free.
“Thad . . . pack.”

Thad’s brows drew together, his outline flickering. “What did you say?” The chokehold eased.

“Brother! Here . . . to save you.”

He released her with a yell. “Are you . . .
Jo
?” He traced to her, catching her just as her vision went dim.

SIXTY-FIVE

F
reed from Josephine’s telekinesis, Rune traced to Thaddeus. “Hand her over to me.” He was all but begging with his bow shouldered and his palms up.

Thad ghosted with his unconscious sister in his arms, making her intangible as well. Rune couldn’t snatch her away. He’d never wanted to fight so badly. Never had so many reasons why he couldn’t.

The boy’s eyes darted. “Who the hell are you?” As soon as Thad had figured out Josephine’s identity, he’d gone from attacking to protecting her.

“I’m her mate,” Rune rasped. “Give her to me.”

When the other Møriør flanked Rune—in battle positions—Thad hissed.

Valkyries screamed from inside: “Bring her back to us!” “You won!” “You took that bitch down!”

Baring his fangs, Thad pulled Josephine closer to him.

Sounding as calm and reasonable as ever, Blace said, “We won’t hurt you, boy. We mean no harm to you or your sister.”

Allixta said telepathically,
—Speak for yourself. He bares his fangs at Møriør?—
An iridescent green light filled her palms.

—Can you hold him?—
Rune asked her.
—
Without
hurting him? Please, witch! He could trace her anywhere in the universe.—

She raised her hands, and slender tendrils of green slithered around Thad, through him, but he didn’t seem to feel them, just gazed on warily.

—Amazing,—
Allixta said.
—Even one of my power can’t touch a shapeshifter like him.—

The boy’s mouth dropped open when Curses joined them. The creature wound between the Møriør, its movements predatory.

—Control your beast, Allixta!—
Rune eased closer to Thad. “Brother, I need you to . . . just give her to me.”

“Not a chance, mister. It looked like she was using telekinesis to keep you away.”

“I need to explain some things to her. And she’s injured. She must feed from me.”

Thad was on the verge of tracing.

“Wait! Please! If you go, take this.” Rune drew out his talisman. “Give it to her. I want her to have it.”

Sian muttered aloud, “Hells.”

The others understood the significance of the talisman. It had always reminded Rune to look toward the future;
Josephine is my future.
“She’ll know what it means.” He tossed it to Thad.