Tether, page 12
“We all must meet our fate,” Aldous said, which was about the most infuriating thing I’d ever heard.
I quickly excused myself before I said something there wouldn’t be any coming back from. Even if—not if, when—Cole and the others got better, it wasn’t going to be enough. We would never be able to kill all of the demons. And it was clear to me that that was the only end game. We’d passed the point of strengthening Gateways and hoping for the best. There was no denying that something was organizing the demons. The attacks on Aryn’s patrol and the Oasis had been coordinated, and I wasn’t naive enough to think that killing another Root—when there were six more still left—had solved the problem. The demons on the other side were reaching critical mass, and it was only a matter of time before they came for us. What then? What’s your plan, Ember?
The only plan that made sense was to convince the Colony to help us. No matter how tranquil they seemed, when demons came for their children, they would fight. I just had to convince them to do it before it was too late.
That night I drifted somewhere between being awake and asleep. It wasn’t dreams, but memories that flashed behind my eyes.
At first I saw Taren, remembering our first kiss next to the body of a Red he’d just killed.
Then I thought of my mom and how we loved to go treasure hunting at thrifts stores, which reminded me of the time we’d taken an unsuspecting Kat with us. We’d both looked so ridiculous in our outfits, but I wished I’d let Mom take a picture.
Next came the first time I’d seen the Institute with its alabaster walls and impressive grounds. I’d been so awed, so relieved, and so terrified.
Then I saw the Los Angeles Root demon—me jumping into its mouth, my flesh burning, surrounded by an ocean of light.
A minute later I saw the dragon Root and how I’d killed it—the deadly kiss gaining power until it crackled with an electricity akin to lighting.
Then I was in the long passageway that depicted the history of the Oasis, my vision narrowing until I was focused on the image of the very first Dahrak, smaller and surrounded by sparks of color and lightning.
Before I’d realized what I was doing, I opened to the Chasm, its chaotic churning beckoning me. From inside the Sanctuary I couldn’t touch its power, but I sensed it. My fingertips tingled with electricity and sparks danced in my mind’s eye. Yellow sparks. Red sparks. And sparks that looked like lightning.
My eyes snapped open.
I raced to Cole’s tent and threw open the flap.
Sweat matted his hair to his forehead and his lips were cracked and dry.
Yesterday I’d been moved by his suffering; today I didn’t care.
“Ember, what is it?” he said, struggling to sit up.
“I know,” I said, and lowered my shield.
I wouldn’t have thought his face could get paler but it did. The cave paintings—the ones he’d tried to keep me from seeing—held the answer. Smaller Dahraks, with only one row of teeth and flesh that hadn’t yet turned black. Surrounded by a field of energy—that’s what the orange and yellow dots had been—the Chasm.
Dahraks had begun as Daemons. Daemons who’d used the Chasm.
“Ember, I’m—”
“Save it,” I said. “I don’t want your damn apology."
“I’m not apologizing,” he said, his face now a hardened mask. “I did what I had to do.”
“‘What you had to do?’ You had no right to lie—”
“I didn’t lie,” he said. “I always told you that using the Chasm was dangerous. You just wouldn’t listen.”
“Wouldn’t listen?” I was incredulous. “I was saving your life!”
“I never asked you to do that,” he said.
Fear—not my own—stabbed at my belly and I gasped.
“What is it?” Cole asked, concerned.
“Stop talking.” I said, then closed my eyes and focused on the source of the emotion.
It was Taren—his fear so strong that I was feeling it thousands of miles away. I called out to him but got no reply.
“Ember, what is it?” Cole said. “Maybe I can help.”
I opened my eyes and gave him a flat stare. He was the last person I wanted help from, but I swallowed my fury.
“It’s Taren,” I said. “I think he’s in trouble, but he’s not answering.”
“Have you tried seeing through his eyes?” he asked.
“I don’t know how,” I said. “I’ve seen him in my dreams, but that wasn’t through his eyes and I don’t know how I did it anyway.”
“The best way for me to teach you is to show you,” he said. “But you’ll have to trust me.”
Was he kidding?
But I had no choice; it was for Taren.
“Fine,” I said. “Show me.”
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. I felt him reach out to me, but it was as if the sending folded in on itself and disappeared.
Then he opened his eyes and looked at me expectantly.
“That was it?” I said.
“It’s not easy,” Cole said, “but it’s very simple. Do you want to try it on me?”
But I was already closing my eyes, reaching out for Taren. A minute later, I was seeing life through his eyes.
He was on patrol, and definitely afraid. I saw the observatory perched on a hill and knew that he was in Griffith Park. There had been killings there—ones we knew were at the hands, and teeth, of Dahraks.
No wonder he was afraid—he was hunting Dahraks alone.
34
Taren
* * *
These solo patrols were ridiculous. My men could get hurt. Yes, the demon population was multiplying—we knew that from the number of deaths. And the scat. But we were spread too thin and trying to do too much. It was going to get somebody killed.
I pursed my lips and made the call that meant “all clear,” and a moment later I got the same in return. But it wasn’t all clear. They were just getting better at hiding. And it wasn’t just Dahraks—Monkeys had been spotted, as well.
Griffith Park was over four thousand acres, and the perfect hiding spot for demons. Plenty of space to hide, and plenty of people to eat. Thankfully, one of the victims had looked enough like a puma attack that many were avoiding the park, but not enough.
Out of habit, I spun the dagger in my hand as I walked, and my thoughts went to Ember. I’d felt it when she’d crossed back into this world. In an instant, my connection with her had gone from analog to digital. I couldn’t see what was happening to her but I could sense it, and even though I wanted to talk to her, I could tell she had her hands full. I let her do what she needed to do, which mostly involved resting. Even while she slept, we remained connected, her presence a warm ball of…Ember. There had been one lapse that lasted several hours, where she’d felt so far away and her despair stabbed at my heart. I’d been helpless to do anything—our connection had been cut the second I was in the air—but by the time I’d landed, I could tell she was feeling better. She’d reached out to apologize, but there was nothing to apologize for. If I’d felt the way she had, I’d have ignored everything too.
I’d immediately called her mother. Master Dogan had tried to tell her that Ember was in a remote corner of the world and couldn’t be reached, and that he knew she was safe, but Rachel had seen right through the lie. I still wasn’t entirely comfortable around her—even on medication her moods weren’t always stable—but we’d definitely made a bond, formed by our mutual love of her daughter.
The relief in Rachel’s voice had matched my own, and to her credit, when I told her that Ember was safe but that she didn’t have access to a phone, she believed me. I promised to keep her updated, and for now that seemed to satisfy her.
A whooshing sound made me look up just in time to see a Monkey, fangs bared, swinging straight for me. Instinct took over and I slashed with my blade, pulling a second one from my waistband. The Monkey shrieked and fell, but a second later it was on me again. And not just that one, but a few of its friends, as well.
I hacked and slashed, but jagged teeth sank into the flesh of my left shoulder, causing me to fall backward. My head hit the ground hard. I tried to make the call that indicated an attack, but I couldn’t make my lips work right. Blood poured from my wound and my head throbbed; I was going into shock. I lifted my hand, but it shook so much I dropped my blade. It clattered to the ground, making the sound of defeat.
I looked up at the sun, not caring if it burned my eyes. If the last thing I saw couldn’t be Ember, it would be the sun.
A dark shadow passed above me, and when I squinted I knew for sure that I was done. Above me loomed a Dahrak.
35
Ember
* * *
Get up, Taren! Fight! I shouted, but our connection had snapped the second I’d seen the Dahrak above him. My attempts to reestablish it were useless. It was as though he didn’t exist anymore.
No, shut up. He isn’t dead. By now he’s killed that Dahrak and is wiping his blade. Dammit, Taren, do not be dead!
I opened my eyes, disoriented at first to see that I was in Cole’s tent. His face was concerned, but a second later I remembered why I was there and my eyes narrowed.
I didn’t have time to be angry though. Instead, I sprinted to Michele’s tent and burst in. The sound roused her and I told her what I’d just seen.
“I need a phone,” I said, knowing they had no such thing on the island. “You have to get me to a phone. I need to tell the Guards where he is—that he needs them. He couldn’t cry out—”
“There might be a faster way,” she said, stopping my frantic babbling. “His mother, Gretchen. Have you tried reaching her?”
I hadn’t. Taren had said she spent most of her time in the Sanctuary but it was worth trying.
Gretchen!
No answer.
Gretchen, it’s Ember. Please listen, Taren needs you!
“It’s not working,” I said. “I have to leave. I need to go home.”
36
Michele agreed to take me by boat to a nearby island where I’d be able to call Gretchen and then catch a ferry to Athens. From there I’d fly home.
We raced to the dock to find Cole waiting, looking pale and gaunt, a knapsack at his feet.
“Where do you think you’re going?” I said.
“With you,” he said, as if he hadn’t just admitted to completely betraying me possibly costing me my life.
“The hell you are,” I said.
“Try and stop me,” he said, stepping into the boat.
I could have. I could have capsized the boat, or flung him from it and into the sea. But only by using the Chasm.
“You’re a bastard,” I said.
“I’m a bastard who owes you his life,” he said. “You can hate me—I deserve it. But there is no telling what you might encounter on your way home. What about the Reds you’ve told me about? I may be a poor excuse for a fighter right now, but I can still use my powers, and doing so won’t have the same consequences as it would for you.”
I hated him, but I couldn’t argue his logic, and I didn’t have time to argue.
“Fine,” I said, stepping into the boat. “Just don’t talk to me.”
Michele got in, and a moment later we shoved off from the dock and were gliding smoothly across the water, though none of us worked an oar.
Twenty minutes later when we reached our destination, I got another surprise.
“I’m also coming with you,” Michele said.
“What about the whole ‘meeting your fate’ thing?” I said.
“I don’t know about fate, but sometimes we choose our destiny,” she said, her face set with determination. “And I choose to help you.”
I didn’t quite know what to say, so I settled on, “Thank you,” and gave her a hug.
I found a working pay phone and called Gretchen collect.
She picked up on the second ring.
“Gretchen, it’s Ember. Taren’s been hurt—”
“We know,” she said, her voice near panic. “He’s here, he… They brought him back to the Institute. He’s unconscious and he’s lost a lot of blood, but he’s alive.”
Thank you, thank you, thank you…
“I’m on my way home,” I said. “I’ll be on the next plane. When he wakes up tell him I’m on my way.”
She promised that she would, and I raced to catch the ferry to Athens.
37
The second we arrived at the airport in Athens, I sent Cole and Michele to stand in line at the ticket counter while I went to call Gretchen again. This time the news wasn’t nearly as good.
“He’s had blood transfusions and antibiotics,” Gretchen said, her voice raw. “But they say there’s swelling in his brain, and… Ember, he’s in a coma. ”
The word landed like a brick in my stomach. Time stopped and I just stood there while the rest of the airport bustled around me.
“What did the doctors say?” I asked when I could finally speak.
“They’re optimistic,” she said. “Whatever that means.”
“It means he’s going to be fine,” I said, as much to convince myself as her.
We talked for a few more minutes, but when I saw that Cole and Michele were near the front of the line, Gretchen and I said our goodbyes.
* * *
At the ticket counter, Michele pulled out a wad of Euros that made the ticket agent’s eyes bulge. It seemed the Institute wasn’t completely cut off from the outside world.
None of us had passports—mine was probably still stuffed somewhere in my bags back at the Italian Institute. It turned out not to be a problem, though. Michele pulled a “These are not the droids you’re looking for” bit on the TSA agent, and we went right through.
* * *
In the restroom at the airport I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and did a double take. I was lean bordering on gaunt, my eyes sunken and my cheeks more hollowed than when I’d left. And there was something in the way I carried myself—it reminded me of Kat, and the confident way she had about her.
I leaned close to the mirror and opened my mouth. No new row of teeth coming in. I almost broke down then, thinking of what was to come. Was it a forgone conclusion? If so, how much time did I have? Was there a way to stop it? I had to know, and there was only one person who could tell me.
Cole was seated next to Michele at the boarding gate, both looking very out of their element. I sat next to Cole and asked him the question I couldn’t bear to say out loud.
Am I turning into a Dahrak?
No, he said, the thought emphatic. You would have to use far more power than you have.
The tight knot that had been living in my belly since I’d learned the truth unwound a fraction.
You still should have told me.
I know, he said. But still he didn’t apologize, which in a weird way, I respected. I hated it when people did whatever they wanted and then apologized for it afterward. Especially when they knew they were just going to do the same thing again. People like my mother, for instance. She’d rarely been sorry enough to start taking her meds again.
Is that why your people don’t use the Chasm? I asked.
No, he said. Before you, there’s been no one who could access that power in…a while. I told you the truth about that.
Her name was Zoe, right?
He stiffened, my words clearly catching him off guard. How do you know about Zoe?
I heard her name when we were at the Oasis. Who is she?
Zoe was…maybe still is…the love of my life.
Tell me about her, I said. How could I have known him this long and not known about her?
She was the fiercest fighter. My hellcat, I called her. I once saw her take down three Dahraks with nothing but her bare hands, he said, the thought filled with pride. But his face was anguished. And yes, she was the last of our people to be able to use the Chasm.
What happened?
She…she became a Dahrak.
My veins turned to ice. It was one thing to learn the truth, but quite another to know it had happened so recently.
How quickly did it happen? Couldn’t you stop it? I said.
She wouldn’t. She was sure she could handle it. She hid it from me until it was too late. She had too many sores, and her hands had begun to change. By then, there was nothing I could do.
Did you…? I couldn’t say the words, but Cole knew what I was asking.
I couldn’t kill her. I was supposed to. She knew where the Oasis was. She could have led the others right to us, but…I couldn’t do it. The others think I did. Even Sadah. I told them I made her drink a sleeping draught, then plunged a knife into her heart.
That’s what Sadah had meant back when Aryn was in trouble, about doing whatever was necessary. She thought Cole had killed Zoe to protect the Oasis.
It wasn’t a total lie; I did give her the sleeping potion. And then I wiped her mind clean of all but one thing: a single barb, set only to open if she saw me again. So that if she did, she’d remember she loved me, and know not to kill me. So that I would never have to kill her. Since then, I’ve looked every Dahrak in the eyes before I’ve killed it.
I exhaled deeply. He’d been wrong not to tell me. He’d been wrong and I had every right to hate him. But I didn’t. How could I hate a man who’d been through so much?
“I’m still angry,” I said aloud, “but I’ll get over it.”
“You remind me of her a little,” Cole said with a sad smile. “Something about your spirit. Your will to survive. I think you would have liked her.”
“I’m sure I would have,” I said, and squeezed his hand.
* * *
The plane ride itself—with one person who’d never been on one, and another who had never seen one—was interesting, to say the least. They held up well, though, both spending most of the flight in meditation, while I prayed—to whom I wasn’t sure—that Taren would be all right.
