Dearest Mother of Mine (Overworld Chronicles) (3 page)

He nodded. "Neither the dark nor the light is evil, in and of itself. All of my kind are capable of feeding from either spectrum, but as we age, our bodies naturally take on an affinity for one or the other."

I waited, expecting a shocking revelation. His matter-of-fact explanation left me feeling disappointed. "That's it? Why do Brightlings think Darklings are evil? Why did the Brightlings treat the Darklings like slaves?"

"Quite simply, prejudice," he said.

I thought back to everything I'd been through. To the strange visions I'd suffered, demanding I choose either the light or the dark. His explanation made no sense in that context. In other words, Mr. Gray was hiding something from me. I waffled, uncertain if I should call him out on this. Even if he knew the true meaning behind the whole Dark-versus-Light thing, would he tell me?

Mr. Gray took another sip of his drink. "There is, however, a much grander scale to this, as I'm sure you've realized." His eyes met mine. "The choice in Foreseeance Forty-Three Eleven pointed to a choice between the dark and the light. As Lornicus stated, it is my belief the conditions for the foreseeance have been met. The decision was made. You were not the one who decided."

This was something I already knew, or at least those of us in my extended family had surmised. I'd had a chance to betray Ivy. She'd had a chance to let me die. In both cases, we'd chosen each other. Whether that meant our choices were a wash or not, I had no idea.

He paused, as if letting the import of his words sink in. I wanted to hear what he thought before I said anything.

"Which side did she choose?" I asked.

"As with any foreseeance, it is rather unclear." Mr. Gray finished his drink, and set the glass down on the granite bar countertop. "Though the universe has long waxed and waned between periods where one essence was slightly more powerful than the other, it has enjoyed a remarkable period of relative neutrality."

"Between good and bad?" I asked.

"Good and bad are moral absolutes, Mr. Slade. I thought you understood they bear no connection to the Murk and the Brilliance." Despite his rebuff, his face held no disappointment. "Darklings bear the mark of the Murk. Their wings are ultraviolet. Their magic utilizes the dark spectrum of aether more easily than the light. The Brightlings are the opposite."

"So, we're not talking Yin and Yang here," I said, confused.

He traced the air with a finger, forming a perfect circle of pale light. He drew a line down the center, flicked a hand. One side filled in ultraviolet, the other pure white. "Is this what you imagine the balance to look like?" he said.

I almost blurted out a resounding yes but, miraculously, managed to keep my mouth shut to allow my brain a few extra seconds of processing. I only needed to consider the speaker to realize what he thought the balance looked like. "Everyone carries a bit of the Murk and Brilliance in them," I said. "That would mean we're all mostly gray."

He looked almost as pleased as one of my professors when I managed to say something smart. "Precisely. Too much of one or the other causes imbalance. This causes actions which one might judge as good or evil. Imbalance is imperfection."

"What you're saying is the universe is fifty shades of gray?"

"What I am saying, Mr. Slade, is an oversimplification. These two colors are simply the way our eyes translate the two most primordial forces in the universe." He folded his arms across his chest. "Creation and Destruction."

I almost made a quip about the good versus evil analogy being spot-on, though technically, neither of those forces was good or bad within themselves. "So, which is what?" I asked.

"The Murk creates. The Brilliance destroys," he said in a matter-of-fact tone. "The Murk is cold like space, the Brilliance burns like the sun."

"Considering what you and your Brightling pals did when you were in control, I suppose I could see that," I said. They'd nearly wiped out human civilization with their war games. "If the Brightlings are so big into destruction, how'd they manage to build the arches and the Grand Nexus?"

"The Brightlings did not build the arches," he said.

I raised an eyebrow. "The Darklings did?"

He shook his head. "The Grand Nexus already existed. We merely found it."

I felt my mouth drop open. "But that would mean…"

"We are not alone in this universe, Mr. Slade."

Chapter 3

Mr. Gray checked his watch. "I'm afraid we've run out of time."

I gulped, and wondered if this was it for me. Then again, why would he go through the trouble of educating me if he only meant to kill me? "I still have questions," I said, deciding to press my luck.

"I'm sure you do. I am undecided about your future." He pressed a button on a phone.

"Yes, Mr. Gray?" asked a woman on the other end.

"Please inform the pilots I will be up to the helipad in five minutes."

"Immediately, Mr. Gray," she said.

"Another reason I'm letting you stay free, Mr. Slade, is this: Though the foreseeance seems to have concluded, it does not mean your presence is inconsequential. You may yet have a role to play. Until I determine what that role is, I am unwilling to cut your thread short or obstruct it."

"Gee, thanks, Methuselah," I said, heaping scorn into my words. During a conversation with Mr. Bigglesworth, Ivy's deceased shape-shifting pal, I'd figured out Mr. Gray's real name. If I'd expected a big reaction from him, he left me disappointed.

"I haven't heard that name for a very long time," he said, without putting any particular emphasis or surprise into his tone. He touched a button on his desk phone. "Lornicus, our guest is ready to depart. Please collect him, and return him home."

"At once, sir," came the golem's nasal voice.

"What's in this for you?" I asked, trying to glean a little more information before Lornicus collected me. "Are you really happy playing human? Or do you enjoy playing the role of fate more?" His talk of snipping threads and manipulating events to suit his purpose struck me as awfully conceited.

"As I said, Mr. Slade, our time has run out. Until I know more, I see little value informing you further."

Someone knocked on the double doors. A woman opened them. "The pilots are ready, sir."

"Very good." He looked at me. "Until the next time, Mr. Slade." Mr. Gray left, closing the doors behind him.

A split second later, the elevator dinged, and an anxious-looking Lornicus emerged. He raised an eyebrow. "You are still alive. I suppose it's a sign things went better than expected."

"What, did you really think he'd kill me?" I said, anger flaring. I was tempted to throw him out the plate glass window.

"I determined the possibility of his killing you to be very slight—no more than a thirty percent probability."

"You call that slight?" I said. "Maybe you need to take math again."

"I've learned a great deal from observing my creator," the golem said. "Though he has a keen eye when it comes to the big picture, I believe he leaves cards unused, avenues unexplored. As the Cataclyst, you have great power to effect change."

"Why do you keep calling me that?"

The golem tilted his head slightly. "You are a catalyst, a prime reactive in events leading to a possible cataclysm. I have heard others refer to you in this way, and believe it's an apt descriptor."

"What others?" I asked.

"Why, the others controlling the game," he said, as if it should make all the sense in the world.

"Names, Lornicus. I want to know names."

"Daelissa, Jeremiah Conroy, Underborn, and some leaders of the primary supernatural factions." He tapped his chin in thought. "I am certain there are more, though knowing their names will make no difference."

"I'm nobody's pawn," I said, slashing the air with a hand, even though I knew full well I'd been played time and time again by people like Underborn, assassin and master manipulator.

"You are a reactant," Lornicus said. "When something affects you, your response tilts the balance. Because you are the Cataclyst, your decisions impact the future in interesting ways."

"I don't want to deal with this crap," I said. "I'm a simple kind of guy. Give me my family, my friends, and leave me alone."

"And to hell with the world, Mr. Slade?"

I clenched my teeth. "Obviously, if angels enslave the human race it's going to affect my happy place. If Mr. Gray really wants to keep Daelissa from completing her diabolical plans, then he can handle it so I don't have to."

"You're still posed with rather serious obstacles when it comes to your family, however." The golem seemed quite smug at this statement. He motioned me into the elevator. "I have arranged transportation for you to a destination of your choosing."

"Queens Gate is fine." I stepped into the elevator with him, my insides roiling at his statement about my family. The golem sure had a way of spoiling my holiday cheer, especially since I knew he was right. What information did he have? Could he help me rescue my mother and Ivy? I sure as hell didn't have a plan. I didn't even know where the Conroys lived, or if they kept my mother in the same location as Ivy.

I remained silent as the elevator descended. Lornicus seemed content to leave me to my thoughts. Fantasies of having Mom and Ivy home for the holidays swirled in my head, warm fuzzy feelings mingling with ice cold reality. The golem probably had information that could lead me directly to them. Why would he have gone through all the trouble to kidnap me unless he wanted to use me in some way?

The doors dinged open to a tunnel stretching into the distance. A sleek, floating platform of some shiny metallic substance hovered a few feet off the ground.

"Where are we?" I asked.

"Not far from an arch which will return you to Queens Gate. Never worry, you are quite safe." Lornicus motioned for me to board the craft.

I stepped aboard, keeping a wary eye out, but saw no other doors in the tunnel from which gray men might spring. The shuttle whisked us down the tunnel, during which time Lornicus busied himself checking an arcphone, tapping out what looked like emails until we stopped at a cavernous room with an Obsidian Arch dominating the center.

The Obsidian Arch network provided nearly instantaneous travel for citizens of the Overworld. Hundreds of them dotted the globe, most located in way stations near the entrances to what could only be described as pocket dimensions—places like the Grotto or Queens Gate, which existed in a place other than the mortal realm, enclosed by an impenetrable barrier to whatever lay beyond. If Mr. Gray wasn't lying and the angels hadn't built the arches or the pocket dimensions, then who had? Did giants watch us from outside the barriers, tiny ants in detailed snow globes?

"Which way station is this?" I asked, looking around the empty space. Most way stations were packed with travelers much like an airport. Each usually had a stable for the menagerie of animals visitors used to transport themselves.

"It has no name. Mr. Gray knew of its existence and uses it for himself." Lornicus ushered me toward the arch.

Mom. Ivy.

I had to ask the golem for information. If I stepped through the arch, I might not have another chance. But would he help me, or rub it in my face?

The arch hummed to life as we walked toward it, the center flickering between ultraviolet, white, and gray, the thrum of energy vibrating the air around us.

Lornicus had mentioned my family on purpose.
He's manipulating me
. He wanted me to ask for help with my family. If I did, I'd be stepping right into his trap. My friends and I had overcome obstacles before. We could find Mom and Ivy without the help of a conniving golem.
I hope.

"This will take you to Queens Gate," Lornicus said.

"Thanks," I said, and headed for it without another word as the center of the arch flashed faster and faster.
Did I really just thank the jackass who kidnapped me?
Each step felt leaden as my desire to turn and ask the golem about my mom threatened to overwhelm my self-control.
Would just asking him hurt?
I knew from experience with the assassin, Underborn, how easy it was to be manipulated.

"Mr. Slade, may I have one more moment of your time?"

I held back a sigh of relief. "Yes?" I asked, facing the golem and trying to look impatient.

He regarded me with a neutral expression. "As you are aware, the Cyrinthian Rune will restore the Grand Nexus to functionality."

"Yes, and then the Alabaster Arch network will reconnect to the angel home world. Daelissa will raise her army, and mankind will suffer an eternity of slavery and oppression." I raised an eyebrow. "What's your point?"

"It is not quite as simple as replacing the Cyrinthian Rune," he said. "There is another vital element to the process."

"She has to be capable of putting the circle in the circular hole, and the square in the square hole? We'd better make sure she doesn't kidnap any kindergarteners to help her out."

He offered a smile. "It is a bit more complicated than that."

"No way, really?"

My sarcasm failed to erase Lornicus's smile. "The first angel to activate the arch somehow attuned the Cyrinthian Rune so only they could remove or replace it."

I didn't bother to ask him how he knew this. "I assume this angel was Daelissa?"

He shook his head. "No. In order to repair the Grand Nexus, Daelissa will need this angel or risk another Desecration."

"Is that what happened during the angel war?" I asked.

He paused. "No one is certain who actually removed the rune during the Battle of the Nexus, but it most assuredly was not the angel who attuned the rune. Mr. Gray believes this caused the backlash which husked every living creature within range of any Alabaster Arch."

I tried not to think about the shadow creatures or infantile cherubs haunting the way stations with Alabaster Arches. "Can you skip forward to the part that concerns me?" I asked, suddenly realizing where he was going with this. "Do you want me to find this person for you? Kidnap them?" I blew out a breath of disgust. "Do it yourself." I turned and headed toward the arch as an image of Queens Gate appeared in the center.