Malcolm led us through the wreckage of the Spear and out. The sky resembled a white-water rapids now, conflicting currents rushing together and churning in near invisible turmoil. Whatever madness drifted down into the city was turning Ash into wreckage as well. Buildings burned, sirens called, but no one was answering them.
'I would take the 'train,' Malcolm said, 'but I'm pretty sure they're not running on schedule today.'
'Smartass,' I answered. Turned to Owen. 'That wagon of yours available?'
He shook his head. 'Do you honestly think the communications rig is going to work in this mess? And if it did, do you think anyone would answer?'
'Mm. Well. I guess we're walking.'
Not a long walk, but a difficult one. Streets were flooded or had fallen through, replaced with sudden lakes and rivers that coursed through the infrastructure. Usually stable boulevards tilted, and buildings creaked dangerously. Lots of glass, lots of debris. Lots of bodies, and most of them dead at the hands of other citizens.
What had I done? What cost was I asking the rest of the city to pay?
'You've done nothing that should not have been done,' Cassandra answered, though I'd kept my mouth shut. She looked at me with those blindfolded eyes. 'These things have unfolded in a way that could not be expected.'
'Are you going to be creepy like that forever now? Because if you are, I'm not sure we can still be friends.'
'Maybe after the apocalypse I'll feel a little more chipper,' she answered.
'Thank gods,' I said.
What should have been five minutes by foot took us half an hour, and we were all on edge by the time we got where we were going. I'm not sure I could have found the place without Malcolm. As it was we kept getting lost, doubling back, finding new roads that hadn't been ruined.
The building itself was uninteresting. Long and flat-sided, cut out of granite, no windows. A sign on the front declared it to be part of the power grid.
'That supposed to be funny?' I asked.
'We don't get a lot of opportunity for levity in the Library Desolate,' he answered. 'Is it funny?'
I didn't answer. We went inside, with the help of Malcolm's passkey and a complete lack of guards.
'You'd think these guards would have stuck, at least,' I said. 'Alexander's true nature couldn't have been much of a surprise to them.'
They had stuck, though, and died in their service. When we found them, they were stuffed into a closet. Dead, not hiding. Butchered. I immediately thought of the groups of coldmen Owen and I had found around the city. Similar slash wounds, similar savagery. We exchanged a look.
The foyer of the building led to a freight elevator. No stairs. We all got in, locked up, and began the descent. Quiet ride down, but when the doors opened we were all a little open-jawed.
The Ruin of Ash was a wide, flat stone, big as a hockey field, glossy black and pitted. It looked a lot like the Feyr artifacts we had seen, only huge. It radiated energy, like a hot furnace about to blow. It was nestled into a bowl-shaped room. The room was lined with drumlike receivers, gathering and emitting some invisible force. Just standing in the doorway was like being deaf in the loudest room you've ever heard.
'This is it,' I gasped. Malcolm nodded, but kept his head down. 'What do we do?'
'Nothing,' said a voice from the corner. The two men, their tattooed eyes, their bulky robes. They walked toward us like monks, hands clasped at their waists, sleeves hiding their fists.
'Who are you people?' I said as I led my little contingent out of the elevator. 'I mean, I've appreciated your help, but what's your part in all this?'
'This is our point,' he said, nodding to the Ruin behind him. 'And we have appreciated your help as well, Eva Forge.'
'What the hell is that supposed to mean?'
The nearer one shrugged and tore out of his robe. Not a man at all, and not wearing armor. He was armor. Bulky chest and backwardbending knees, arms like a giant's. And the tattoos around his eyes? Scales, just like the rest of him. His mouth yawned with teeth, and was as wide as both my hands together. He wore shielded gauntlets, bound to sharp punch daggers. He smiled at me with gods so many teeth.
Rethari.
'Dramatic, my brother,' the other one said, calmly drawing back his robe and then rolling up his sleeves to reveal similar weapons. 'Can't we keep our dignity?'
'You sent the artifact, didn't you? To get us here, to this point? To reveal the betrayal of Alexander and drive us to war against ourselves?'
'Not at all. We had no idea Amon still lived. That was just icing. All we wanted to do was drive the scions of Morgan away from the godking. This…' He raised his hands and nodded. 'This is just serendipity.'
'We're here to destroy that thing,' I said. 'And we're really not going to let you stand in our way.'
'What luck. We're here to destroy it, too. Just…' And he cocked his head to the sky. 'Not yet.'
This gave me pause. I didn't like that our paths aligned. I looked to Malcolm, but he just shrugged. Cassandra stepped forward.
'You mean to free the power entombed in the Ruin, to force the turning of the cycle and ascend your gods. I will stop you,' she said.
'Stop us from doing what, little girl? You want to destroy the Ruin? Fine.' The one still wearing a robe held out his hand. It contained a tiny wheel and chain. 'Here is the plunger. We've already set the charges. We will give this to you. We'll even pull the trigger, so that you might escape and live.'
'They won't blow it yet,' Malcolm said. 'Not until Alexander and Amon kill each other.'
'Why?' I asked. 'Why wait until then?'
'The power would release from the gods, but the cycle would not turn. Not immediately. Maybe a month, maybe a year, but it would stay in the mantle of mankind. New gods would arise.'
'Not if you blow it up,' Cassandra said. 'That kind of release would overwhelm the city, no matter when you do it.' She looked at me. 'It might be enough to kill the Brothers, and leave the rest of us mad with divinity.'
'Until the cycle turned,' Malcolm said. 'Which we would have no mind to prevent.'
'So,' the Rethari said, gripping the plunger. 'We seem to be in something of a draw. If you'd all please step back…'
The ghost appeared from the direction of the Ruin, rushing up the bowl of the room without making a sound. He started as little more than a fog, quickly solidifying as he came. Feet away from the Rethari he struck. I heard the blade go into meat, once, twice, and then a tearing slash that buckled the giant creature's back. Those tattooed eyes bulged, and then he tumbled to the floor.
His companion howled and went to slash at the assassin. I drew iron and put him down before he could even take a step.
Nathaniel knelt behind the fallen Rethari, blood on his blade and mouth. He looked up at me, chest heaving, skin white, the wound I had given him still oozing into his shirt. Maybe not so much of a Healer, after all.
'I could not let that happen,' he said. His voice was wet with blood. 'Not to Alexander. All that I do, I do for him.'
'I understand,' I said. 'Thank you.'
'So. Redemption at last, Eva Forge?'
'Let's not be idiots, Nate.'
I raised the bully and put lead in his eye. His skull pulped around the bullet's path, bright crimson on his white pauldrons. He tumbled back and was still. In the quiet that followed, I walked over to the Rethari detonation device and crushed it under my foot. When I turned around they were all staring at me.
'I'm not much of a forgiver,' I said. 'Now show me how to vent this place.'
* * *
The sky was a nightmare of light and current and arcane shadow. The city of Ash was cast in stark and unnatural darkness. The surface of the lake rippled with the impact of unseen forces, like a giant rainstorm. A thunderhead of ash and fury was growing over the battlefield, and the two combatants faced one another in utter silence and calm.
