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As if in answer, as if in response to the tremendous blood sacrifice, a white rift tore open in reality, glowing and swirling amidst the flailing meadow of blades and tentacles still gathered at Other Dustin’s feet. The Eldest had answered his prayer.
“We have to shut that thing down,” Gil shouted.
Carver and Asher were way ahead, already chanting and weaving their hands in unison. But another flicker of light illuminated the clearing. I reared back, already dreading what the night had in store for us next – but it wasn’t a threat. It was Royce. He clutched at his hair, staring open-mouthed at the surrounding devastation.
“This is a fucking nightmare,” he said. “A total fucking nightmare.”
“Heads up,” I shouted, “but we’ve got other problems.”
He shook his head, balling his fists. “Fine. Priorities. Fine. I brought backup.”
They stepped out of the shadows behind him. It was Odessa, as it turned out, as well as Romira, who was dressed in something black, sleek, and chic, like she had been in the middle of dancing at a club – a theory supported by the pink cocktail she held in one hand. At their rear followed a very groggy and very confused Bastion, who appeared with wildly tousled hair, a pair of boxers, and very little else.
“Odessa and I came as fast as we could,” Royce said. “I pulled these two along for the ride.”
“Ladies’ night at the Amphora,” Romira said, casually tossing back the rest of her drink, then setting the glass down on a stump.
“I was asleep,” Bastion cried out in frustration, his hands trying to cover his body. “What the hell is so damn important that you people had to drag me out of bed and – ”
“That,” Odessa cut in. “That right there.” We followed her finger.
“Are you joking?” I shouted. “On top of everything else.
Are you fucking kidding me right now?”
A beam of brilliant crimson energy was falling from the sky.
The Heart.
A rift hadn’t opened in days, but the Heart’s response told me that the Scions had been watching and waiting for another to appear. And this one promised to be huge. The budding oval portal lit up what was left of the clearing, its size and the blinding clarity of its emanation filling me with dread.
This looked way more intense than the rifts that allowed the shrikes to cross over. Bad news indeed. And the forest was already thick with that familiar humming, the buzz and keen that heralded the arrival of the shrikes.
“Scorched earth,” Odessa said, her face made even paler by the light of the opening rift. “That’s the plan. Royce and I received word that the other Scions were channeling their power through the Heart. A disturbance was sensed in this location, so they launched a strike immediately.”
“But we need to shut that thing down,” Gil shouted, thrusting his finger at the rift. “Is the Heart even sure it can destroy it?”
Odessa cast her glance over the rift. “It worked once before, but this rift is different. Larger, stronger. The collateral damage would be immense, and even then there would be no guarantee of success. Carver. In case the rift survives, I strongly suggest you prepare to seal it.”
Carver nodded, already muttering, and he nudged Asher, who began to echo the same incantations.
“I have other concerns just now.” Odessa raised her head to the reddening sky. “Ensuring our survival, for example. Bastion. With me.”
It was almost comical, seeing Bastion barefoot in just his boxers rushing to the side of the ageless sorceress who called herself Odessa. For a moment I nearly forgot that he was considered one of the Lorica’s strongest Hands for a reason. The two of them raised their arms, palms out, against the red beam of the Heart. White light pulsed from somewhere between them, like a circuit had been completed, and from Hand and Scion blossomed the largest force field I’d ever seen in my life.
The glassy dome appeared several feet above us, formed wide enough to cover the combined forces of the Lorica and the Boneyard. I watched, my stomach in knots, as the Heart’s attack plummeted towards our location.
Please let it destroy the rift, I thought. Please let us survive.
The world turned red. The beam of the Heart struck the bubble, its hideous energy running like scintillant blood around the outside of the force field, bathing the night in crimson. It roared like a dragon, smashing against us like a massive, unending hail of ruby fire. Odessa remained steadfast, but Bastion screamed, the veins in his neck bulging. Hairline cracks appeared all over the dome, and I held my breath.
But the shield held fast. The red light of the Heart disappeared just in time. The two mages lowered their hands, Odessa falling to her knees, Bastion scrambling to help her. I blinked my eyes quickly, clearing the haze of red away from my vision, and my heart sank.
Faint red sparks shimmered in the singed grass of what had once been a clearing. The expanse of forest around us had been all but obliterated in a huge, perfect circle, trees splintered and smashed into the earth, the ground itself pummeled and flattened by the force of the beam.
But the rift was still there. The Scions’ attack had failed.
Ancient, powerful words sang through the night, hissed and sputtered by two voices. Carver and Asher raced forward and slammed their palms against the rift, their hands wreathed in plumes of arcane energy. They’d successfully used the time Odessa and Bastion had bought us to prepare a dispelling, to destroy the rift.
