The Triad of Finity (16 page)

At this, Emalie’s jaw tightened.
Then we should ask him.

Yeah, but, how are we going to take him?
said Dean.
He’s got, like, demon parts and stuff.

Oliver had to agree.
And even if we hit him with an enchantment and get the information from him, he’ll bring all of Half-Light down on us.

Ooh, what if we do the sleep thing, with the memory rite?
Dean asked. Y
ou know, where we go into people’s dreams, like we did to try to figure out who my master was?

Oliver shook his head.
Crevlyn’s too strong. I think he’d be ready for that.

Yeah
, Emalie agreed.
I don’t think we can sneak into his head. Humans are one thing …

Hold on
, said Oliver. He’d been thinking about sneaking around, about doing something without someone knowing.
What if
… It was crazy, but maybe perfect. Dean had mentioned their dream-hopping, which made him think of …
I think I know who can help us
.

Chapter 13

The Forsaken Legion

It was a foggy near-dawn, the world a smoky blue when the Hermesian demon popped into reality and lowered Oliver, Emalie and Dean to their destination. Oliver had to steady himself, which was mostly because of where they were now standing, but maybe also slightly because he and Emalie had just flown across the Delta sharing a claw, squeezed shoulder-to-shoulder, hip-to-hip, with Emalie being all warm and alive-smelling again.

They had devised a plan for their secret entry, and for how best to abduct their prey and escape before security forces descended on them, but as they climbed along the side of the structure, they found that all of their planning had been wasted effort.

There were no security guards on the wooden dock beside the large, white yacht.

And their target was already outside, almost like she was waiting for them.

But she wasn’t. She was kneeling out at the end of the bow, dressed in a black leather jacket and a long dark-purple skirt, her hair hanging around her face as she gazed down into the fog-cloaked water. Oliver heard her mumbling to herself. Then she reached her hands between the metal railing and flicked something outward. White rose petals scattered. They fluttered toward the water, each bursting into a small flame as it descended. They hit the water’s surface with a hiss, leaving tiny black swirls of ash.

Emalie was about to release the binding enchantment, but Oliver threw an arm in front of her. He knew this ritual—it was a memorial—and guessed who it was for. And so he waited another few seconds, as the girl knelt in silence before speaking.

“Lythia—”

“
TachESSS
!” Lythia shot into the air like a pouncing leopard, spinning to face them, a long, thin sword shimmering into existence in her hand.

But Oliver was ready. He’d already formed his two rattan fighting sticks and as Lythia arced toward them he thrust forward, slamming her in the shoulder. The impact sent her careening off course and crashing to the deck. The entire yacht rocked, throwing off everyone’s balance.

“
Bind!
” Emalie called, and scattered a handful of iridescent crystal powder over Lythia. The crystals created a spider web of energy lines, forming a thin net that wrapped Lythia tight. Her sword clattered to the deck and Oliver grabbed it.

She writhed against it. “Let me go, you—”

Then she looked up, and seemed to notice Emalie for the first time. Oliver glanced over and saw that Emalie’s eyes were glowing: white hot pupils and red irises.

“So, the bloodbag is back,” said Lythia, but she also stopped struggling. “Minion, throw the demon child overboard.”

Dean stood still, chuckling. “Sorry, master,” he said sarcastically. He reached to his neck and showed Lythia the new Hindrian charm that Emalie had provided him with.

Lythia shrugged her eyebrows. “Whatever. You were useless anyway.” She glared at Oliver. “Knew you were coming. Sensed you in Pele’s Lair before. I may not have my demon, but I’m still powerful.”

“I know,” said Oliver, though he thought that Lythia didn’t look very powerful right then, or just a minute ago when she was performing that memorial ritual. This made him think to say, “Sorry about your brother.”

Lythia glared at him. “Who cares if you are.”

Oliver wondered what to say, and a silent moment passed between them. Lythia’s brother, Alexy, had been prepared to receive the Anointment in Oliver’s place. Only the force treatments had made him sick. Last year, he’d finally succumbed to his condition. Lythia had been out of school for a couple weeks. In spite of their past, Oliver had always had an urge to say something to her about it. Now was as good a time as any.

“I know what it’s like,” said Oliver. “Losing a brother. I know it sucks.”

“Yeah?” Lythia snarled. She got up onto her knees, her eyes flaring lavender. “You know what it’s like to have your father lose his career, to be stuck living on a boat ’cause you can’t afford anywhere else? To be shut out of Half-Light’s big plan and to watch as all the other lucky boys and girls get their free pass to the next universe? AND to lose your brother? What do you know, Nocturne? No matter how bad it’s been for you, you’re still the chosen boy. You’re still going to get to exist beyond the Gate.”

Oliver was struck by this. “What are you talking about? What do you mean, ‘free passes’?”

Lythia chuckled. “You are still an idiot. Didn’t it ever occur to you what all those kids in our class, the ones who got their demons early, had in common?”

Oliver hadn’t thought about that. He’d been too busy worrying about getting his own demon, and about Emalie. “What?” he asked, hating how clueless he sounded.

“Use your prophecy-boy brain,” Lythia muttered.

“Watch it,” said Emalie.

“Make me, bloodbag.”

“Maybe I will—”

“Hold on,” Oliver snapped. He thought about the kids who’d gotten their demons abnormally fast: Carly, Kym, Suzyn and Jesper. What did they all have in common. …

Then he saw it. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t realized it before. “All their parents work for Half-Light,” said Oliver. “And Theo, Maggots, Berthold, and you, now … your parents don’t.”

“Congratulations,” said Lythia. “Half-Light and that Dr. Vincent, they figured out a treatment to summon their kids’ demons early, whether they were really ready or not.”

“Okay,” said Oliver. He thought about Carly, out of control in the sewer clubs. She definitely hadn’t seemed ready. “But so what?”

“So …” Lythia rolled her eyes, “what does that tell you, Nocturne, about your big destiny, the one that comes true on Tuesday?”

Oliver thought it over … and then he understood. “When the Gate opens, vampires with demons will be free, but, if you don’t have a demon …”

“You’d be destroyed like the rest of us,” Emalie finished quietly. “You’ll be no better than a human.”

“Or a zombie,” Dean added.

“Poof,” said Lythia. “That’s why Half-Light has kept the prophecy and the plan such a secret all these years. All us demonless vampire kids who aren’t part of their inner circle, we’ll be just like all this junk.” She waved her hand, seemingly at all of reality around them. “Forsaken.”

And now Oliver understood that, too. “Your Forsaken Legion. You, the Brotherhood, zombies, other vampires … you’re—”

“An army,” said Lythia proudly. “An army of the left-behind.”

“An army?” asked Emalie. “But, to fight who, Half-Light?”

“Good girl,” said Lythia. She struggled to her feet. “So, are you going to release me or what?”

“Why would we do that?” asked Dean.

Lythia rolled her eyes. “Sometimes I just can’t believe you dimwits are the big heroes. So we can work together. Duh! You obviously have some plan to try to stop the end of the world. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? And we have ours, so let’s just get on with it. Tick tock, you know?”

“You just attacked me with a sword,” Oliver pointed out.

Lythia smiled. “Yeah, but that was just for fun. Now, come on. Everybody’s waiting.”

“Everybody?” asked Emalie.

“The rest of the Legion, or, the high command anyway. We’ve been hacking into Half-Light’s monitoring systems for weeks—know every sorry thing you’ve done, Nocturne, by watching your ankle sensor, until you disappeared last night, anyway. Still, we figured it would only be a matter of time before you showed up here.”

I don’t know about this
, Emalie thought worriedly in Oliver’s mind.
Let’s just grab Lythia and run.

Oliver thought about it. He looked back at Lythia, glanced out at the water—the ash swirls in memory of her lost brother …
I think we need all the help we can get,
he thought back.

Fine
. Emalie sounded annoyed.
Just keep your guard up.

“Okay,” said Oliver.

Emalie waved her hand, and the netting fell away from Lythia.

Lythia’s hand shot out. Her sword leapt back into her palm—

“Hey!” Emalie shouted.

“Relax!” Lythia gripped the sword with both hands. “Just putting it away.” She whispered to herself and the sword dissipated into smoke. “This way.” She brushed past them, around the side of the ship.

“You’re sure about this?” Dean asked quietly.

“As sure as I am about anything these days,” said Oliver. He shrugged and followed her.

They reached the back deck. Lythia opened the cabin door and they entered, crossing a living room. They dropped down a steep set of stairs to a narrow, dark-wood hallway lit with tiny magmalight globes. Lythia headed aft, opening a metal bulkhead door. They entered a dimly lit metal room, cluttered with the engine and plumbing. The machinery hummed quietly.

In the far corner of the room, behind a tree of thick pipes, a hatch was bolted into the floor. Lythia began to twist open the iron wheel on top.

“Um, a hatch in the floor of the boat … Wouldn’t that lead into the water?” Dean asked.

“Wow, minion,” Lythia muttered, “your grasp of up-and-down is really improving! Smart little zombie.”

She popped open the hatch. A ladder led down through a cylindrical metal tunnel. She turned and smiled at them. “Secrets,” she said, and dropped down the hatch without using the ladder.

Oliver, Emalie and Dean stood around the edge.

“Are we really about to follow Lythia into a dark place?” Dean asked.

“Good times,” said Oliver flatly, and leapt in.

He dropped further than he thought he would, emerging from the tight tunnel and landing hard on a concrete floor. He moved out of the way as Dean tumbled down.

Coming
, said Emalie. She blinked into sight beside them, having used her old force bending trick to levitate down.

Lythia was already stalking off up ahead. The three followed. They were in a tall, round concrete tunnel. The sides were cracked; white salt streaks bordered dark patches that were draped with that slippery seaweed that one might find on tide pool rocks. Here and there, colonies of mussels lined the cracks. Shallow puddles dotted the floor.

“Looks like an old sewer outfall tunnel,” said Oliver. “Must not be on the vampire map though, otherwise it would be warmer, and have some art and stuff.”

They followed Lythia for five minutes, until the old tunnel ended at a surprisingly new-looking steel wall. Lythia spun the wheel on a rectangular hatch door. It swung open with a hiss. Beyond was a small square room. The walls on either side of them were made of sleek steel, but the far wall was curved and old, made of brown, scarred metal. This little room was attached to it with thick rubber padding.

“Is that a submarine?” Dean asked, looking at the markings on the welded metal panels. “A U-Boat? The writing looks like German.”

“You can get them refurbished for cheap in Naraka,” said Lythia, yanking open a hatch on the submarine wall with a rusty squeal. She stepped inside, let the trio in, then slammed the door shut behind them. The clang echoed in the darkness.

They walked down a cramped corridor, pipes and metal framing pressing in on either side of them.

“It’s nowhere near as nice as the sub we took to the South Pole, when we were tracking The Artifact,” said Lythia. “That was a Russian nuclear sub, totally sweet. This works though, at least well enough to bring it here and ditch it in the mud undetected.”

“It’s pretty cool, as hideouts go,” said Dean.

“Why thank you, minion.”

They twisted and turned through the tights halls, and arrived in a somewhat more spacious control room.

“Well, here they are.” Oliver knew Malcolm LeRoux’s voice, and saw him leaning against a bank of controls. Braiden Lang stood nearby. There was his scar-faced second-in-command. Beside her was Talia LeRoux, Lythia’s mother, her hair teal blue and swirled atop her head. Oliver didn’t recognize the others: a mix of humans and vampires, about ten in all, manning computer displays. For a World War II sub, it looked like the electronics had been given a major upgrade.

Oliver felt Emalie and Dean press against his shoulders. Here they were. Oliver maybe hadn’t considered seriously enough that this could be a trap. No one spoke, so Oliver just started talking. “We came to get Lythia.”

“What for?” Malcolm asked.

“Does it matter?” asked Emalie coldly.

“If you’re going to put my daughter in danger,” said Talia, “then, yes.”

“Tell us what you’re doing, first,” Emalie countered.

Malcolm traded a look with Braiden. He smiled. “Fine. I assume you know about the coming Great Radiance.”

Oliver nodded.

“Well,” Malcolm continued, “when Half-Light confirms that you two have been summoned to open the Gate, they will begin transporting their members to Nexia, so they can bear witness to the big event. And besides, Earth won’t exactly be the safest place to be once reality starts to disintegrate. Matter can be particularly … pointy, when it’s being destroyed.

“Half-Light has a portal device in their headquarters downtown called a Force Axial Transmitter, for transporting everyone. Our plan is to seize control of the Transmitter and go to Nexia.”

“And then what?” Oliver asked.

Braiden spoke up, his eyes fixed on the floor. “And then we fight. Try to take out the demon.”