Sunrise(Pact Arcanum 2) (25 page)

“I’ll think about it.” She looked at Nick in suspicion. “Wait, what do you mean, ‘leave’? You’re trapped here, the same as I am.”

Nick shook his head, smiling slightly. “Actually, no. I’m not. You’ll be safe here until you get picked up, but I’m leaving now.”

“You can’t fly all the way to Earth, Nick. Levitation is a gravity-well effect. You’ll stall out halfway there, even if you could hold your breath that long. And you can’t jump that far without a functional fixed-point teleport gateway at both ends, with transmission cores to enhance the signal. It can’t be done.”

Nick pointed down to the main factory level below them, where a large, eight-pointed star design was visible on the floor. “There’s a gateway right there. I can use the Crown to set up temporary transmission cores in a standing wave that will last long enough to make the jump.”

She snorted. “So much for good intentions.”

Nick scowled, but said nothing.

Ana’s brow furrowed in thought. “Even if you do have that kind of power at your disposal, you’d still need a gateway at the other end. You don’t have the AI codes to access the master gateways at Anchorpoint or Icehaven.”

Nick chuckled. “Luscian always thought ahead, Ana. You built an unassailable fortress completely beyond the reach of the Court of Shadows. Do you honestly think he would have provoked a war with the Triumvirate if he didn’t have a way to take it from you? His spies stole the gateway technology almost three months ago.” He laughed at Ana’s goggle-eyed expression. “See you on the flip side, Sentinel.”

Nick looked back at the gateway and jumped directly there by line of sight. Calling Reaper to his hand, he used it as a conduit to bleed magic into the spellform he had silently constructed in the back of his mind. Eight pillars of insubstantial blue light appeared at the points of the star. Ignoring the screams of the trapped souls that echoed in his mind when he drew upon the strength of the Crown, he looked back up at the observation deck and waved to Anaba, who was pressed against the clear dome, staring at him.

Then he gathered his will and leapt into the void.

CHAPTER 31

Castle Night, French Alps; Forty-five minutes later

Rory stood silently at the edge of the battlements, gazing down at three huge bonfires, the mystic flames painting the courtyard a vivid sapphire in the darkness before the dawn.
Only another hour before sunrise and still no sign of him. Could he have slipped past me?
Then he felt the psychic probe he was waiting for and smiled.
“Hello, Nick.”

The probe withdrew hurriedly, but Rory had already traced the source back to the lower levels of the castle. He snorted.
“I know you’re there, Nicholas.”

The psychic touch came again, and Nick’s inner voice answered with resignation.
“Hello, Rory.”

“Come up and join me for a drink. You know where to find me.”
Rory broke contact, leaving it up to Nick whether he would accept the invitation. He settled in to wait.

Fifteen minutes later, Nick climbed the stairs onto the roof. Rory knew objectively that Nick had risen to the third life, but the Daywalker’s white hair slammed home exactly what had happened to his friend that night, the ordeal he’d endured because of Rory’s stupidity. Rory turned away before Nick noticed him watching, and refocused his attention on the bonfires below.
So many mistakes, and no way to make up for them.

Walking barefoot across the bloody stone of the roof, Nick made his way to Rory’s side.

“What are you burning?” Nick asked, following Rory’s gaze.

Rory continued to watch the flames, the faint crackling sound carrying all the way up to where they stood. “The bodies of House Luscian. Once they’re completely consumed, we will commit their ashes to the wind and the sunlight.”

Nick nodded politely, clearly uninterested in the fate of his brethren. “How did you know I was here? I was trying to be careful.”

Rory tapped the side of his head before glancing back at Nick. The younger man’s clothes were stained with ash from the many fires burning throughout the castle, as well as the bloody cross on his shirt that Anaba had mentioned. “Ana linked to me. She explained what happened after you rose to the third life.”

“Ah. Once a triad, always a triad, I guess.”

Rory’s gaze locked on the cerulean blue of the Daywalker’s eyes, so full of pain and despair. His heart broke all over again, remembering the desperate look Nick had given him in the last moment of life, just before Luscian ended it forever.
Get ahold of yourself,
he thought.
Nick doesn’t need to be reminded of that.

He forced his voice to remain level. “It’s the first time I’ve felt her thoughts in almost three years. Ana and Take don’t touch my mind much anymore. She only called to tell me you would need an amplified, fixed-point teleport gateway to jump all the way back from Hephaestus Station, and that if Luscian had one operational, it would probably be hidden somewhere in the castle. So I sent everyone away from the High Tower and extended my thoughts to cover the entire complex looking for you.” Rory paused for a moment, thinking about Ana’s uncharacteristically tentative voice when she had reached out to him after so long. “What did you say to her? She seemed less hostile than usual. If I didn’t know her any better, I’d say she gave me the information as a peace offering.”

“We chatted for a while, once she stopped trying to kill me.” Nick shrugged. “Sorry about the Citadel, by the way.”

Rory laughed, having already reviewed satellite images of the devastation. “Yeah, she told me she leveled the place in an attempt to take you out. She’s already making plans to improve her original design when we start rebuilding.”

Nick picked up the opened wine bottle from the wall in front of them and poured a generous amount of the crimson liquid into two flutes of Venetian glass that rested next to it, both inscribed with the crest of House Luscian. Inhaling the coppery aroma of fresh blood, he waved his hand over the glasses in a warming cantrip and watched them steam as they reached body temperature. “What shall we drink to?” he asked, taking one of the glasses.

Rory claimed the second glass. “To endings and new beginnings.”

Nick clinked his glass against Rory’s, the crystalline chime singing through the early morning air as the light of dawn crept over the horizon. They both drank, watching the flames of the funeral pyres for a few minutes before Nick said, “This stuff is good. What is it?”

“Tiamat, a brand of bloodwine produced only in Armistice territory.”

“It doesn’t taste like the stuff Luscian drank. It’s stronger, more powerful.”

“Most of the members of the Court of Shadows prefer human blood.”

Nick raised his eyebrows. “This is Sentinel?” He took another sip, rolling it over his tongue. “I can only taste the echo of one soul.”

“This is Single Voice. There are lesser varieties, but I wanted nothing but the best for you.”

Nick sighed and put the glass down. “Rory, it’s not your fault.”

“Then whose fault is it?” asked Rory, his voice tight with anger. “Luscian went after you because you were my friend—the only human friend I let myself have since Jiao-long turned me. It was selfish of me to get close to you, and it cost you your life. I should have warned you.”

“You couldn’t have told me the truth.” Nick watched the lightening sky. “I wouldn’t have believed you without proof. And now I know why you could never give me that.”

Rory regarded his friend with curiosity. “Meaning what, exactly?”

“It was there in Luscian’s memories. When he attacked, he felt my Gift kindle. That’s why he didn’t kill me immediately. He waited until just before the change was complete before turning me.” He sighed. “Luscian did so love to collect hybrids.”

Rory’s face twisted in sympathy. “And in the meantime, he indulged in a little recreational torture.”

Nick shuddered, trying to conceal it by picking up his glass and taking another sip. “I try not to think about that.”

Rory turned back to face the bonfires and said softly, “I was there at your house as soon as Ana said it was clear. I saw what he did. He left you to rise to the second life alone, in the dark, never knowing what had happened to you or why.”

“I know you were there, Rory. I heard you.”

“What?” Rory blinked in surprise. “No, you were dead, Nick. You must have imagined it.”

“You said you were sorry, and that you should have warned me,” whispered Nick. “Then you swore they would all burn for what they had done to me.” He stepped closer to the wall and looked down at the funeral pyres below. “And you kept your word.”

Rory was silent, following Nick’s gaze to the violet flames.

“So, what now?” Nick asked, leaning against the crenellated wall.

“Now?” Rory sipped his bloodwine. “Now you can do whatever you want. I can provide you with a supply of Tiamat, unless you want to hunt outside the Armistice Zone or find a willing donor. Daywalkers still need blood periodically, though they can extend the interval by psychic feeding.”

“Hunt?” asked Nick, looking at him quizzically. “Isn’t that against the rules?”

“The Children of the Dawn swear not to kill, except in self-defense, defense of another, or to defend their honor. But they all chose to become what they are and entered the third life willingly. You had it thrust upon you in battle. The rules don’t apply to you, unless you decide to take the oath. You’re a free agent.” Rory looked out at the horizon, where the smoke-filled sky continued to brighten. “It’s already been arranged.”

Nick considered that. “What about the Challenge of Kings? You called Luscian out and now he’s dead, although admittedly you used me as a proxy. Technically, House Luscian owes you a hundred years of service.”

Rory tilted his head to grin back at Nick and his fangs showed for a second. “Is that what you want—to swear allegiance to me and become Primogenitor Jiao-long?”

Nick shrugged. “Just stating a fact.”

“No. I won’t make you swear your honor to my service; that is, unless you decide you want to by your own choice.” Rory drank the last of his wine before setting down his glass. “Besides, are you sure you have the right? You were the most junior scion of Luscian’s bloodline. If any of the others survived, they would have first crack at the job.”

Nick shook his head. “They’re all gone, Rory. I can feel my connection to the bloodline, and it’s empty of any other voices.”

“I guess that makes you Nicholas Magister Luscian by default.” Rory smiled. “Soulkiller’s Bane.”

Nick snorted. “You better not let that name catch on. I have no desire to live up to any kind of legend. I’d just as soon not let the Court of Shadows know that any of Luscian’s scions survived.” Finishing his bloodwine, he turned around and leaned his forearms on the stone wall, holding the empty glass as he watched the sky turn vermilion.

Rory copied his pose. “So, you’re the last House Luscian vampire in the world.”

“Yup,” Nick said with a nod. “They were a blight on the pages of history. Killing them did the world a favor. No one will miss them, least of all me.”

“What will you do now?”

“Nothing.” Nick stood again, setting his glass down before shrugging nonchalantly. “I just want to go home, back to my life.”

Rory stared at him, appalled, and then stood again. “Your life is over, Nicholas.” Rory crossed his arms in front of himself. “If you return to the life you knew, you’ll only endanger everyone you care about. Your family. Your friends. They’ll all be at risk if you try.”

“You don’t know that,” Nick said, clearly irritated.

“I do know that, and so do you.” Rory’s eyes bored into Nick’s, noticing the Daywalker’s emotions roil angrily across his psyche. “Luscian killed you before your Gift could give you the race memories that go along with it, so you probably don’t know, but in every generation the four elemental powers of the Sentinel Gift are concentrated in four individuals, each of whom express one of the elements in its most powerful form. Those four individuals are genetically programmed to be the leaders of the Sentinel race, called the Winds. Takeshi, Anaba, and I are the Winds of Earth, Fire, and Air respectively for this generation. We’ve wondered for years where the Wind of Water has been hiding.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “But you know, don’t you, Nick?”

“No,” Nick said in horror, shaking his head. “Oh, God, no. Rory, you’re wrong. You have to be wrong.”

“I’m not wrong, Nick. I knew the second I shook his hand—when you introduced me to Scott at your birthday party. Two powerful latents, linked in a dyad configuration even while dormant. Now that your Gift is awake, his will be primed. He’s probably already on the edge of kindling, just waiting for a spark to start the change. Sooner or later, you’ll drag him down into this world along with you”

“I won’t let that happen!” Nick shouted.

“No matter what you do, someday it’ll happen. The two of you are at the height of your musical careers, just a few months away from touring worldwide. Were you planning to cancel all of your shows outside the Armistice Zone? How would you explain that to your record label, let alone your bandmate? No matter how careful you are, somewhere along the line you’ll slip up, and he’ll be exposed. It’s inevitable.”

Nick’s shoulders slumped. “Rory, please, help me.”

Rory put his hand gently on Nick’s shoulder.
I owe him the truth. He deserves to know. Best to be up front with him from the beginning.
“There’s a way you can protect him. But only if you have the will.”

“How?”

God, he looks so hopeful.
“Walk away.” Rory’s voice grew stern. “Let the old Nick Jameson die and find yourself another path. Quit the group and stay away from him. It’s the only way you can keep him safe. But it’s your decision.”

Nick swallowed, pain and indecision burning briefly in his eyes. Finally, the Daywalker straightened up and faced him squarely, his expression stony. “Goodbye, Rory.”

“Where are you going?” Rory said calmly.