Resonance 4th Edits - Bleeding Worlds Bk 3 (2 page)

The floor, though she knew there wasn’t
really
a floor, quaked beneath them. Large fissures snapped open, running the length of the floor to the walls, where they continued upward, splitting the walls, revealing the void beyond.

“Marie, hold on,” Adrastia yelled.

Like every living thing, Marie’s soul resided within the Veil. The more Adrastia’s control on the situation slid, the harder Marie’s soul would work to claim her. Few Anunnaki escaped the experience unscathed—if they escaped at all.

I need to keep her here. I need to keep her focused on us.

“All of you,” Adrastia said, “callout to Marie. Try to keep her focused on us.”

The boys started yelling. She ignored their calls—absorbed in some personal torment playing out in her mind.

“Fuck it,” Brandt said. “Marie, you useless bitch.”

They all stopped, their collective mouths falling open.

“If you can’t handle this, then just go ahead and die. We don’t need to be slowed down by some whiny baby.”

While there were similar abilities shared by all Anunnaki, each had a special talent unique to themselves. In the case of Marie, it was the ability to move at blazing speeds. Even knowing that, it amazed Adrastia how quickly things went from words leaving Brandt’s mouth to Marie slapping him so hard, only Adrastia’s grip on his arm kept him from falling to the ground.

“You bastard! You sexist, misogynistic, fucking asshole!”

Brandt grabbed Marie around the waist.

“I’ve got her. Can we get the hell out of here now?”

“Let go of me,” Marie protested.

“Marie, shut up! He’s saving your life,” Adrastia snapped.

“What about Wade?” Caelum asked.

“I’m sorry,” Adrastia let her tone soften, “he’s gone. The Veil took him.”

Maybe he would be able to stand facing himself. Maybe he would be one of the lucky few that made it out of the Veil in one piece.

Maybe she was delusional.

No one else spoke. Whether they were mourning their friend or staying quiet to show their lack of care, she couldn’t know. Thankfully, none protested. They’d seen enough to know Adrastia saying he was lost meant no going back for him. Such a thing would only result in more loss.

Getting out was all anyone could do now. The Veil had become more dangerous than ever. But where? The first door she tried nearly killed them. Where would be safe? How could she even know…

“Everyone, I know you’re frightened. I know things are going crazy. But please, stay calm while I think for just a few seconds. Then I’ll get us out of here, I promise.”

They managed to follow her instructions—their silence almost pointless amid the horrific sounds within the Veil. She tried to tune out the chaos, reaching out to the greater part of herself—her soul, a construct of energy, touching every time and every world all at once. She would never hear what she was searching for without its aid.

The song was nearly as familiar as her own. For centuries, she’d heard an increasingly distorted version. Even when she’d lived long enough to find the pure version again, she couldn’t find it. Not until his school classroom, where the discordant notes clouding him sorted themselves into the melody she’d longed to hear. And then, that night in the park, she’d sung it for him, pure and free of dissonance. He’d embraced it, and those notes now resonated outward to the universe.

In the park, she’d thought she was doing it for him. If he’d failed Fuyuko, he would never forgive himself—she would’ve lost his song forever. But now, she knew she’d done it more for herself. She’d longed for it for so long—Cain’s garbled version was an insult—she had to give it back to Gwynn, just so she could hear his soul sing again.

The song saved Gwynn and Fuyuko. Now, Adrastia hoped it would be enough to save her and the rest of Ansuz.

There was no telling if Gwynn was somewhere safe. After all, Jackson said pre-existing futures had disappeared. But she couldn’t let that deter her. She’d been so intent on getting Gwynn to Asgard, where he’d meet Sophia, where he’d be safe, she’d been blindsided by whatever treachery Woten concocted. If she’d been wrong, if Gwynn being taken to Asgard hadn’t helped him, then her destruction didn’t matter.

A note struck her ear, a hint of melody in a direction she could follow. She shoved the other sounds aside like an adventurer chopping his way through deep brush.

She launched herself toward the door, dragging the others behind her.

There is no floor,
she told herself,
they can just glide along behind me.

She reached a tentative hand forward. The song was clear now, blasting from the other side of the door. It’s notes sounded strained, hurried, but there was no mistake. She turned the knob, throwing herself and the others across the threshold.

They landed in a heap in a strange room.

“We’re out,” Adrastia said with a gasp.

“What?” a voice she wasn’t familiar with said.

She turned to study the scene in front of her.

A sick knot twisted in her gut.

Gwynn lay on the ground, his arm severed. Sophia cradled him in her lap.

The culprit was obvious—Cain—who stood immobilized, facing his father—Pridament—for the first time in millennia. There were others, though she only recognized Jason.

Cain made good on his promise—he sought out Gwynn and tried to kill him. He might have stopped, caught off guard by the presence of his father, but he would resume soon enough. She’d been wrong. Sending Gwynn to Asgard delivered him to his doom.

No. She wouldn’t let it happen.

She forced her wobbling legs to stand straight beneath her. Willing all her strength into them, she propelled herself forward, to cross the distance to Cain before he could notice.

They collided.

There was no lessening in her momentum. She tore the Veil, dragging Cain in with her.

For a brief moment, her gaze met Pridament’s.

“Protect Gwynn,” she said, disappearing into the hellish chaos with Cain.

In the lowest levels of Valhalla, minutes before Adrastia’s arrival, prophesy was being fulfilled.

When Pridament encountered Sophia from Gwynn’s Earth, she said the boy would lead Pridament to the end of his quest. He now held Gwynn in his arms, staring at the answer he’d spent years searching for.

“Gwynn,” he said.

The grown man’s eyebrow raised quizzically. He looked confused, as though no one had called him that in a very long time. What frightened Pridament was the anger he saw beneath the confusion. Had his son been lost so long he’d come to hate who he’d once been?

“Who are you?” the man asked.

Pridament’s heart ached. His son didn’t know him. Then he remembered he wasn’t wearing his true face.

“Sophia,” Pridament said, “come support Gwynn.”

She ran forward, cradling Gwynn in her arms.

“I’m not sure if you’ll remember me,” Pridament said, rising to his feet. “If you’ll give me a moment, I’ll show you my true face. I hope you’ll recognize it.”

Muscle and bone became pliable, shifting and sliding into a preprogrammed pattern it recognized, even if Pridament himself had a hard time recalling the specifics. How long since he’d looked in the mirror and seen his true face? But then, for the past ten years, and especially since meeting Gwynn in Brantfield, he’d come to regard Pridament as his true identity. Who he’d been before seemed more a dream with each passing day.

He knew the process finished when he had an overwhelming urge to rub his cheeks. The process always ended with them feeling numb—a numbness his mind said required vigorous rubbing to resume blood flow.

“Do you know me Gwynn?” Pridament asked. “Do you recognize me…”

He was going to say “son,” but the word frightened him. What if this man didn’t know him? Or worse yet, what if he did recognize him and held nothing but hatred for the man who’d failed to rescue him so many years ago?

For a moment, the grown Gwynn studied his face. The look in his eyes gave Pridament some hope. Anunnaki were famous for their memories—probably evolutionary given their long life spans. But Gwynn hadn’t awakened as an Anunnaki before that night. It was possible he’d lost the memories of his youth.

His Gwynn took a step closer, his mouth working, trying to find the right movements to give voice to a long abandoned word.

Pridament felt everyone’s eyes pressing on them. There was no doubting the power of this man in front of them. Even Pridament’s considerable years and power might not be enough to conquer this version of Gwynn. They all remained motionless, holding their breath, waiting to see what gamble Pridament was playing, and if it would pay off.

“Da…dad?” The elder Gwynn said.

“Yes, Gwynn, that’s right. It’s me. I’ve been looking for you.”

Warm tears flowed down Pridament’s cheeks.

A commotion came from his right, but Pridament ignored it. He only had eyes for his son. Who knew what trials the boy had faced—and faced alone. What he’d done to Gwynn was inexcusable, but could there be a reason? Maybe something happened, putting him on the wrong path. Perhaps he could be rehabilitated.

Something slammed into his son’s midsection. It took a moment for Pridament to realize it was the girl, Adrastia, who’d proven to be such a mystery in Brantfield.

He felt a tear open. He couldn’t process what was happening, it moved so fast.

“Protect Gwynn,” Adrastia said.

Then they were gone.

Swallowed by the Veil.

“No!” Pridament yelled.

He surged forward, all sense abandoned. He would push his way through her tear in the Veil. He would follow them.

His son needed him.

“Pridament,” Sophia called. “Gwynn’s not doing well. Pridament, we need you.”

Protect Gwynn.

Yes, there was still another Gwynn who needed him. He shook his head. There was no way he could follow them through the Veil. Even a Script would have a hard time doing such a thing. He’d come this close to his Gwynn, and at least he knew he was alive. Alive, and strong enough to take care of himself. He couldn’t say the same about the Gwynn behind him.

He turned back and ran to aid Sophia.

“He’s burning up,” she said.

“We need to get him out of here,” Pridament agreed.

Jason moved between them and Katsuro and his men.

“Before all this happened, we were about to have ourselves a fight,” Jason said. “Are we agreed this isn’t the time or place, or are we going to make this even messier?”

“Oh, it’ll get fucking messy all right,” a familiar voice said from behind Katsuro.

Everything happened so fast, Jason hadn’t even seen the arrival of his teammates. He felt a weight lift seeing their faces. Though not all of them were present.

Oh God, no.

But there was no time to dwell on those things. There would be time for conversation and, if necessary, mourning, later.

Katsuro looked to Jason and then hazarded a brief glance behind him.

That’s right, do the math. Six Anunnaki versus one and two men with guns.

“We withdraw,” Katsuro said. “It seems we have much to discuss.”

When Katsuro fully turned so the other members of Ansuz could see him properly, Jason thought they might burst into tears.

“Kats?” Brandt asked.

“He’s this world’s version,” Jason yelled over Katsuro’s shoulder. “Our’s is still gone.”

Seeing how crestfallen they looked, Jason almost regretted shattering their hopes. But this was a new world, and hope had little place.

“This was your plan,” Jason said to Katsuro, “what was the exit strategy? It’s pretty obvious we’re not going out the way we came in.”

Katsuro nodded his agreement.

“The Aesir use a variety of vehicles. I figured we might…borrow one to make our escape. The plan was to escape during the chaos caused by our assault forces.”

“Then let’s hope they’ve managed to keep the fight up.”

“Hold on,” Caelum said, moving to Gwynn. “Let me see if I can help stabilize Gwynn before we try to move him.”

“Can you put him flat on the ground?” Caelum asked Sophia.

She looked to Pridament who nodded it was fine.

Caelum leaned over Gwynn, drew on the Veil, and placed his hands on Gwynn’s injured arm.

“If only I’d gotten here before you cauterized the wound. We might’ve had a chance of reattaching the arm.”

“There’s nothing to reattach,” Sophia stammered. “It was lost inside the Bifrost.”

Caelum’s look said,
What the hell is a Bifrost?
But he didn’t bother asking the question aloud. Instead, he focused his attention on Gwynn.

“Geez, man, we need to stop doing this dance every time you try to save the world.”

A white glow emanated between Caelum’s fingers as he glided them up Gwynn’s injured arm, onto his chest, and then finishing at his temples.

He fell back on his haunches and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

“That’s all I can do for now unless you want to carry both of us. There are all sorts of things wrong in there beyond just the arm, but I think I’ve done enough to make it safe to move him.”

“I’ll take him,” Pridament said.

He lifted Gwynn up into his arms. Sophia stayed glued to his side.

“Brandt, take a position behind Pridament and cover our rear,” Jason ordered. “Caelum, you be in front of Pridament, in case Gwynn needs any further patches on the way.”

The two boys fell into line without question.

Both Marie and Jackson looked like dolls played with to the point of breaking.

“Marie, Jackson,” Jason used a softer tone than he had with Brandt and Caelum, “what are the two of you feeling capable of?”

Marie could barely meet his eyes.

“I’m fine just staying here.”

“Don’t talk that way, Marie,” Jason said. He knelt down closer to her. “I don’t know what you’ve been through, but I can tell by looking at all of you it must’ve been Hell. And I can see we’ve lost friends.”

Marie sucked back a sob.

“But we lost them trying to survive. They wouldn’t want us to throw away the gift they had stolen. It’s our obligation to them to live…and to make the bastards responsible, pay.”