“I know you’ve accepted what must happen,” he says, moving beside me to walk. “But I again ask you, are you sure?”
I inhale deep, breathing in the scent of earth and sulfur. The smell of the Otherworld. I never wanted to breathe this air again. I nod once to Bax. “How can I not trust Caben’s own mother?” It was Aurelia who produced the vial of coma-inducing drug to Bax before Lake brought them to the treehouse. It was her words that convinced Bax and the others that the drug was safe, used on mental patients in her ward—a last resort when no other treatment worked.
When Bax first told me of this plan to put Caben into a coma, I wa
s angry. Hell, livid and unwilling to accept it. Putting Caben to sleep, maybe permanently, is almost as bad as death. Yet, given the alternative to death and an insane goddess on the loose, it’s our last resort.
When I stick Caben with the syringe, he will slip into a coma. Bale becomes subdued, trapped inside him while he sleeps. It saves his life, but the chance he may never wake is greater than the chance he will. Performed on a physically healthy person—once treatment is determined—they can be revived. That is, most of the time, according to our one expert.
But Caben is not healthy. He’s weak, drained, probably completely mad at this point, and most likely will never be brought out of his coma. He lives…but as a permanent vessel for Bale. Her new sarcophagus.
That is the grim probability that I had to face on our trek here. I wanted the truth, so I could make this choice with no reservations. And Bax gave me the truth, because he knows I will never forgive him if I believe otherwise.
Then, there is the slim prospect that the best physicians in the Three Realms may be able to bring Caben back. Once we discover a way to extract Bale from him safely. Most likely diving into more archaic and unpracticed magics. But at least this way gives us time to investigate.
The alternative I am not willing to consider.
Put Caben to sleep indefinitely. Or kill him.
Bax sighs and rubs the back of his neck. “I am not asking whether or not you trust his mother about the drug.” He steps over a root in our path. “That is of little consequence now, Protector. I ask whether or not, when the moment comes, if you will be able to inject your prince?”
Ah. So Bax still doubts me. As he should. Because I’ve battled this question our entire way here. I wonder if there will ever be a day that he fully trusts me—or that I can trust myself. “Here’s one consolation for you, Bax,” I say, glancing at him. “I will not allow any other to do it. If it’s to be done, it will be by my hand. So yes, I’m ready.”
Without warning, the sound of battle hits my ears. I’m unprepared for it. The Nactue tense, falling into position and unsheathing their weapons. My stomach knots, and suddenly, there’s no more time to debate my choice.
Smoke plumes from the rocky buildings I now only see in my nightmares. Amber and blue flames dance along their rooftops, lick the ground and walls. The clang of weapons and guttural shouts rends the air. Explosions boom and quake the ground. No one is holding back in this fight; weapons of destruction have been called in. The battle won’t last long.
“Through, now!” I command.
As we take off running, I feel a strong sense of familiarity. Violent images of the Cage fights flash before my vision. Then the actual Cage itself. It rises up before me, all steel bars and imposing. A tremor travels my limbs. But I push on, trying not to see the many faces of the destroyed contenders.
Smoke curls into my eyes. I hear muffled coughs as the others trail my lead around the carnage—dead bodies that have been trampled. Bones of mutilated animals. Remains of machines.
Bypassing the waste of the massacre, I come up behind the battle. And I stop.
A shriek cuts through the clash of battle sounds, raising the hairs on my body. I feel Lena press close to me as she says, “I still have nightmares about the Grimmal.”
I can only nod. I do also…and the sight amid the battle will only add to them. The Grimmal—a mutated beast engineered by the Otherworlders; half snake, half spider—whips its scaly tail down on a unit of protectors. I see another creature in the distance, being attacked by the Perinyian army.
“We have to keep moving,” I say. Then swing my head to stare into her violet eyes that are still locked on the monsters. “I feel I don’t have to—”
“No, you don’t,” Lena says, turning her gaze on me. “I promise. I won’t hurt her. I love Lilly.”
I nod, accepting her vow for what it’s worth.
She raises her pale eyebrows as the others catch up. “Come on!” She waves her hand. “Into the madness, Nactue!”
We’ve got to move around, or else we’ll be sucked into the fray. I can’t chance losing any one of them. As we skirt the battle perimeter, I summon the strength and power I despise.
Knowing it’s Bale’s power that courses through me, her silvery tentacles of mercury lashing at my insides, I’m more than reluctant to depend on it. But I won’t allow my pride or fear to doom us.
The surge or power springs forth like quicksilver shooting through water. The force of it parts a path for us around the side of the main battle. Otherworlders and units effected by an unseen energy move aside, and we dart along the sideline, heading toward the place calling me with blistering fury.
Caben is there. I can sense not his presence, but Bale’s. The same way I felt her during the Cage fights—she’s close to ascending. She’s restricted by Caben’s limitations, but that doesn’t stop her from making contact.
With a slash of my sword, I trim the way for us through the clearing battle. The fight hasn’t made it past the tightly-woven city area. We still have time. We just have to stage this perfectly. Not too soon. Not too late.
Glancing up at the black ceiling, I almost pray for an opening to appear. I want to see the new moon for myself. It won’t be like anything we’ve witnessed before. I know this, because during the Reckoning, the eclipsed moon was Bale’s. This will be hers, too.