The Way of the Black Beast (32 page)

"Family can have more conflict than anybody. Let's hope we can use that to our advantage."

Malja nodded and held back the urge to cheer on Cole. The woman had found her courage once more, and Malja did not want to make her uncomfortable by pointing it out. To avoid the possibility, Malja walked back toward the entrance.

She could not see the bridge. She pressed her hands up to the glass — a strange experience, unbroken glass — and squinted. Though she never felt so much as a slim vibration, the fortress had left the bridge and now floated in the dark fog. The house had become an island.

With an echoing clang, the door between the statues opened. Nobody came out.

"Guess we're expected to go," Malja said.

"Oh, how dramatic," Cole said, melting into her superiority like an old lover. "For all their supposed greatness, these two have a lot to learn about presentation."

Despite her bravado, Malja caught Cole's eyes darting around like a bird looking for an escape.
Well,
she thought,
that's okay. A good fighter always feels nervous before a big battle.
Tumus looked worried, too. For a Chi-Chun of Korstra, however, Malja expected less fear and more of that overconfident arrogance she had come to enjoy. Fawbry merely stepped toward the door. Not a word spoken. Even Tufts noticed — the griffle chose to walk several paces behind.

They proceeded down a corridor marked with numerous closed doors on either side. The walls were stone and arched overhead. Narrow alcoves filled in the spaces between doors — focus booths, each filled with a hard-working magician.

At the far end, an open door led to one of Jarik and Callib's workrooms. Large enough to fit a mid-sized boat, the room bore the magicians' conflicting tastes quite well. The ten-foot windows along one wall belonged to Jarik. They had red drapes that touched the floor and little animal wood carvings around the frames. Callib had been in charge of the workspace. In one corner, a wide desk covered with papers and books; the rest of the space left open for experiments — practical and utilitarian.

Malja took it all in with the expectation of battle. She noted exits, defensive positions, and areas to avoid. To her left was Cole's portal frame. They had rigged it upright with large cables connected to it. The cables led to the second large object — a chamber composed of mirrored walls and hanging metal rods. More cables snaked along the floor from the chamber to the third object — a dark cylinder about six feet high and three feet across.

Both Jarik and Callib stepped forward. Their bodies glistened with sweet-smelling oil that reminded Malja of Gregor's cooking — particularly when he fried a myrit. Even their bald heads had been covered. The oil brought to life the vibrant colors of their tattoos.

Warnings spiked in Malja's head. "Where's Tommy?"

Callib turned away but not before Malja caught the sinister amusement on his face. He stepped into the mirror chamber, reflections of him on every wall, and adjusted several of its components. Jarik gestured toward the portal frame.

"Patience," he said. "We wish to show you what this is all about. We are not monsters. Sure, we've made mistakes. We are far from perfect. But, where others bemoan their failings and wallow in self-pity, we improve ourselves."

With surefire steps, Callib walked up beside Jarik. "Go get started," he said. "I'll handle this."

Jarik hesitated, the desire to explain pushing against the need to perform. With a muted nod, he acquiesced. Callib gave a little shake of the head and snickered as Jarik entered the mirror chamber.

They're like nasty children,
Malja thought.

Jarik took a wide stance in the center of the chamber and focused on the mirror to his side. From here, he could see the tattoos on his back — the oil making even the smallest ones clear. As he worked on the spell emblazoned on his right shoulder blade, doubt trickled along Malja's skin. They might be nasty children, but she now saw that they were
smart,
nasty children.

Callib walked up to Cole and offered a ridiculous bow. "You have my sincerest admiration."

Cole frowned. "You have my portal frame, and I'd appreciate it kindly if you return it."

"I see the time away from us has not changed your humor. Well, I'm sorry, Ms. Watts, but we cannot return the frame. In fact, it is our deepest wish that you help us build an even better one — one that will help us connect with other worlds in more substantive ways."

"You can wish all you want but I—"

"We have glimpsed into hundreds of worlds. Hundreds. Each containing knowledge and riches that would better our world over and over forever." He raised his index finger to stop Cole from speaking again. "I understand why you're angry. But I think after you see what we can accomplish today with your frame, I truly believe you will have a new desire to help us."

With her head high, Malja said, "You get nothing from us until we see Tommy."

"You stupid brat," Callib said, spit flying from his twisted lips. "You never could wait. Never could just let us present things to you the way we had chosen. You want Tommy? You
have
to see him? Very well. But I warn you, this'll only make it harder on you."

Callib looked at a tattoo on his hand. He closed his eyes and whispered words Malja did not know. With a childish snarl, he jerked his head toward the dark cylinder that connected with the mirror chamber. When he opened his eyes, the cylinder became translucent. Inside was Tommy.

He stood in a knee-high, thick, green sludge. Green water filled the rest of the cylinder like an algae soup. Tommy's body swayed in an unseen current, his eyes closed.

"Don't worry," Callib said. "The boy is fine."

"Fine?" Fawbry said. "He can't breathe in there."

Callib pulled back, uncertainty crossing his brow. His eyes widened, and a devious grin formed at the corner of his lips. He eased back with a predatory grace. He looked at Tumus. "You didn't tell them."

Malja's eyes shot to Tumus. The Chi-Chun woman's face betrayed her. Malja said, "You have something to say?"

Tumus looked from Callib to Malja — neither appeared safe. "W-When Barris Mont connected with Tommy, he ..."

"He what?" Malja said, her skin and muscles burning with the desire to attack, to shut out whatever might come.

"He ..."

Callib cleared his throat in a loud, unnecessary manner. "Perhaps I can help. You see, when Barris realized that Jarik and I were approaching, he knew our purpose. We had come to take his power. So, he tried to trick us."

"No," Tumus said. "It wasn't like that. Barris saw a great power in Tommy, but the boy had been so abused in the past, he was too mentally damaged to unlock it safely himself. Barris simply wanted to help the boy."

An icy hand took hold of Malja's heart. "What happened? What did that bloated bastard do?"

Tumus opened her mouth but only shook her head. Callib said, "He transferred himself into the boy. That's why you're precious Tommy is still alive. Barris can breathe underwater, so now Tommy can too."

Malja pressed a hand against her chest as if her heart had been ripped out and she wanted to staunch the wound.
Stay focused,
she thought.
Mourn later.
Rubbing her eyes, she opened her mouth but no words followed.

Fawbry stepped closer to the tank harboring Tommy. "Barris took over Tommy's body?"

"No," Callib said. "They share it. And now that we have the boy connected to our chamber, we share it."

"You're using him?" Malja said, her voice cracking. "For what?"

Callib opened his arms and nodded to the portal frame. "For you." He walked into the mirror chamber and positioned himself similar to Jarik.

While Jarik appeared to be in a deep trance, Callib acted more like an impatient child. He moved about the chamber, using different mirrors for different spells. He focused on his knees, his spine, and his feet. Spell after spell blended with Jarik's singular, powerful conjuring.

The cylinder containing Tommy brightened and pulsed waves of heat. Cole pointed behind them. Malja saw more bright light as the occupied focus booths pushed their magic into the room.

"This is a lot of energy production," Cole said. "It feels like a bomb. Be careful."

"I'll do that," Malja said, her anger refocusing her even as it took on a tinge of Cole's caution.

A cracking sound like wood splintering under heavy pressure ignited the air. The cables wriggled, jolting with power. With a sizzle, an airy pop, and the smell of burnt leaves, the portal frame opened.

Jarik and Callib exited the chamber, triumphant and sweating. They both gestured for Malja to look into the frame. She stepped forward a little — enough to peer into the frame without being too close.

She saw a room made of dark woods. Shelves crammed with books covered most of the walls. A window provided Malja with a glimpse of wide, hilly grass and a vehicle passing in the sky across a huge, ringed moon. In the room, she saw the desk with blue-green lights floating above it. A woman sat behind the desk, touching the lights as if they had substance.

Jarik stepped closer to Malja. "This is your world. You came from here. You were born on those soils. And that woman is your mother."

Jarik's words slammed into Malja's head like an avalanche of stone. Everything around her — Cole, Fawbry, Tumus, Tufts, the mirror chamber, Tommy, her fathers, the fortress, the City of Ashes, the entire world — it all disappeared into darkness leaving only Malja and the portal frame. She felt as if she floated in darkness, cut off from her body's senses.

She watched the woman in the frame, searching for any resemblance, any sign to verify Jarik's claim. The woman did look like Malja — thick, dark hair and a strong body. Her face shared some of Malja's structure, and the way she concentrated on her work bore the same determined focus Malja knew well. Like Malja, the woman wore a black assault suit that fit her perfectly.

The woman looked up, her face mirroring Malja's shock. All her actions occurred in slower time. Even as she hurried around her desk and stepped closer to the portal, her motions were slowed. Her hair bouncing in the air, the chair falling backward, the papers on her desk fluttering — all moved gracefully as if underwater. She covered her mouth, but could not hide her tears.

Malja's world slammed back into focus. She looked to Jarik and said, "Can I go there?"

With a joyous laugh, Jarik said, "That's why we did this. Long ago, we wronged you. We made a mistake."

Callib leaned in. "We simply want to make things right. Go home, Malja. You've been gone far too long."

Malja glanced back at the others. Their expressions couldn't have been more different. Cole gazed upon the portal and the machinery that helped make it possible, and her hands rolled the fabric of her shirt. This small action kept her from leaping forward to examine the wondrous technology.

Tumus, however, could not take her eyes off Tommy. Her valiant chin jutted out, and her body stood firm. Malja knew exactly what she was thinking — how to save Tommy.

Fawbry lacked expression. He stood as if holding on through boredom, waiting for Malja's command to act. She knew for sure now — he was lost in his own mind for now.

I'm alone.
Malja took a few steps closer to the portal frame.
I always have been.

Except if she reached out across worlds she would find a warm hand awaiting her. One like her own. She could leave this destitute, unraveled world of misery and violence, and replace it with a cozy library, green fields, and flying machines. She could have the warm embrace of a parent who never abandoned her.

She took a few steps more.

Jarik looked on with a bittersweet expression. His mouth tightened as if to hold back from blubbering an apology. He hung his tattooed head and laced his fingers. Callib bowed as he gestured toward the frame as if to say
accept this gift and please forgive us.

There were no more steps to take.

She gazed into her mother's brown eyes. Tears glistened and dribbled down her mother's cheeks. The woman put out one hand, yearning to touch. Malja raised her left hand and held it just before the frame. She scrutinized her mother's features like inspecting herself after a battle. She saw the old scars and the healed bones — her reflection yet older and more worn.

It was like being inside Barris Mont's magic once more — observing herself from the outside. Except this was no memory brought to life. All she had to do was step forward.

Gregor would tell her to seize the moment. "If I could have my way," she could hear him say, "you would never fight. You would never have to. A little bit of order, and we could all just peacefully live our lives." Yes, Gregor would tell her to jump through the portal, to wrap her arms around her mother, and to never once look back at this blood-soaked world.

But she did look back — just one last time to say goodbye. She saw Cole and Tumus enveloped in their personal euphoria. She saw Fawbry grin — happy for her with unbridled affection. Tufts giggled for no clear reason. She saw Jarik and Callib smiling like the fathers they should have been all along. And she saw Tommy — his submerged body swaying and peaceful, a pleasant look on his face that promised he would be thrilled for her to go through the portal.