Morpheus Road 03 - The Blood (12 page)

BOOK: Morpheus Road 03 - The Blood
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Damon reached into the casket and removed a four-foot long black sword that was unlike any weapon Marsh and Coop had ever seen or imagined. Its tip came to a bayonet-like point, which could do plenty of damage on its own, but there was more. A foot down from the tip were two more equally dangerous devices. One was a curved pick a foot and a half long that came to a sharp point . . . perfect for impaling a skull. Opposite it was an eight-inch
cleaverlike
blade . . . the ideal tool for chopping the heads off defense
less enemy prisoners.

Damon held the weapon aloft with one hand, admiring his prize. "I never gave up hope," he said to the weapon, as if it cared.

"That's it?" Marsh exclaimed, incredulous. "All the hor
ror, the deaths, the lives you've turned inside out? It was all for that sword?"

Damon gave Marsh a sly smile.

"Not just a sword," he said. "This blade is infused with the energy of every spirit that it tore from its living vessel. I cannot begin to estimate the numbers."

"The Butcher of Epirus speaks," Coop said with disdain. "You must be so proud."

"Foley," Damon said. "Perhaps you can help your friend understand. You've seen what the spirit swords are capable of. Those were once ordinary weapons that were brought through the Rift into the Black to become spirit-killers." He held up the poleax and continued, "This sword, this magni
ficent weapon, held that kind of power without having to leave the Light. Imagine what it will become once it jour
neys along the Morpheus Road. I believe that justifies all that I went through to retrieve it."

"All
you
went through?" Coop said sarcastically. "We didn't ask for any of this."

"Yet here we are," Damon said with no sympathy.

"What happens now?" Marsh asked tentatively.

"Now?" Damon asked, his voice booming through the mausoleum. He raised the poleax up high overhead, grasp
ing it with both hands. "Now . . . we begin."

He spun around and with a single, violent swing brought the sword straight down and sliced the blade into the wall of crypts. The black blade tore through the marble like it was paper, sending a spray of blinding purple light through the tomb that forced Marsh and Coop to shield their eyes. The earthquake returned, knocking Marsh off his feet, but he kept watching as Damon ripped a vertical slice through the marble. The sound of the cutting was anything but nat
ural. It was a chorus of howls and agony; pain and power all blending into a massive roar of sound that made Marsh want to cry out
in despair.

The cutting was finished in seconds and the demonic howling ended, along with the firing lights. What was left was a gaping black hole in the wall through which could be heard the desolate sound of eternity.

A new Rift had been created.

His job complete, Damon turned to Marsh and Cooper and declared, "I trust I will not see either of you again."

"What about my mother?" Marsh cried.

Damon shrugged. "She is no longer my concern."

"You got what you wanted! Where is she?"

"Thank you both," Damon said, ignoring Marsh's plea. "This would not have been possible without your help."

He gave a formal bow, stepped backward, and leaped through the Rift.

"No, stop!" Marsh screamed at no one.

Cooper and Marsh stood staring at the tear in the seam of existence, stunned to the point of paralysis.

"He's going to rally his troops," Coop said, breathless.
"
And now that he's got the poleax, he can open up as many Rifts as he wants."

"
And I let it happen," Marsh finally said, dumbfounded.

"No," Coop corrected quickly. "You were right. He wasn't going to stop until he got that thing. This was bound to happen someday, with or without us."

"Except it happened today."

Coop stepped closer to the wall and stared into the abyss. The opening cut right through Terri Seaver's empty tomb along with the crypt below it. Coop feared that who
ever the poor guy was who occupied the lower berth had been cut in two, but the edges of the opening had no thick
ness. It wasn't so much a physical gash in the marble as it was a tear in the thin fabric that separated two worlds . . . as it did on the floor of Ree's vision of Grand Central Ter
minal. It was as if the wall of crypts was a paper-thin cur
tain that had been sliced apart to reveal another existence beyond.

"Go home, Ralph," Coop said. "You're finished."

"What do you mean?"

Coop ran his hand back through his hair, quickly get
ting his wits back.

"Damon doesn't care about you anymore," he said. "Or Sydney or anybody else in the Light. He got what he wanted and now he's moving on."

"But . . . it can't be over."

"It's not, but your part in this is. Go find Sydney. Tell her what happened. And hang on to that crucible. I don't think you'll need it anymore, but I might."

"What are you going to do?" Marsh asked.

"I have no idea, except to keep my promise."

"What promise?"

"I'm going to find your mother, and not just for you. She has to bring the Guardians back together."

"But . . . I can't just sit around waiting. Pretending like nothing's going on."

"That's
exactly
what you're going to do," Coop ordered. "This battle has moved farther down the road."

"Yeah, until it comes back here."

Coop shot Marsh a pained look. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that."

"I'm sorry," Marsh said softly.

"Don't be. Find Sydney."

"She doesn't want anything to do with me."

"Then, convince her she's wrong. I can't believe I'm say
ing this, but you guys are good together."

Marsh nodded. "I don't like this. It's starting to feel like a farewell moment."

Coop scoffed and was ready with a quick comeback to tell his friend how wrong he was, but thought better of it and said, "It isn't. We'll see each other again."

Coop turned back to the Rift and squared off against the dark hole. "Let's hope no other spirit, living or dead, ever crosses through that thing . . . in either direction." He looked to Marsh, smiled, and gave him the double okay sign.

Marsh smiled in return, but it was forced.

Coop winked. The swirl of colorful fog appeared before him and he was gone.

Marsh was left alone in the mausoleum. He stood in the same spot, not moving, unsure of what to do. He stared into the dark hole that could very well have opened a pathway to a cataclysm. A doorway he helped create. He had been used and manipulated by someone smarter than he was. Marsh knew that he had fought back with everything he had, but in the end it wasn't enough. He was still a weak little boy who didn't have the smarts, or the courage, to do the right thing. Staring into that void, Marsh felt as though he was looking into his own empty future. He would always
have to live with the knowledge that when challenged, he had failed on a colossal level.

It was something he couldn't imagine living with.

He glanced down to the broken body of the man who had rested in his mother's grave. Who was he? Where did Ennis find him? Did his spirit know of the role he had played in this tragic drama? Seeing him lying next to the open coffin, looking so vulnerable, pushed Marsh to imag
ine what might be in store for every living person if Damon succeeded in mounting an army to march into the Light. The man's broken body seemed so inconsequential com
pared to the spirit that once gave it life. How many others would meet the same fate when Damon returned, brandish
ing his villainous weapon? How many more spirits would be torn from their living vessels? The idea was unbearable to imagine, made more so by the knowledge that he had put the poleax back into Damon's hands.

Marsh knelt down close to the remains and said, "I'm sorry I disturbed you."

As he knelt there, at the lowest point of life possible . . . he felt a glimmer of hope.

If he had learned anything from his experience, it was about the amazing nature and power of the human spirit. It was a power that insured life would continue beyond the mortal time frame spent in the Light. Cooper's adventure proved that. Damon's existence proved that. Every stop along the Morpheus Road had meaning, every person's jour
ney was a unique adventure. It was the natural course of existence. It was right. It was good.

Marsh knew he had to do whatever it took to make sure it wouldn't end.

He looked around the subterranean mausoleum and wondered how long it would take before somebody dis
covered the carnage. How often did people go down there?

With any luck it wouldn't be until Damon's quest had ended . . . one way or another.

He felt a surge of confidence. For the first time in a very long while he knew what he had to do. His only regret was that it would absolutely crush his dad. And Sydney. Maybe. He vowed to do all he could to make sure they both understood that everything was cool. Sydney would get it. Dad would take a little more work, but he trusted Sydney to help him through it. They would both have to understand that there were bigger issues at stake than any one person's life.

Or death.

Marsh looked to the Rift. He heard the hollow echo of the void, but saw nothing. Nothing but black.

He was more excited than scared.

Cooper was wrong. It wasn't over for him.

With that belief in mind, Marsh held his breath . . . and stepped into the Rift.

11

When Cooper stepped out of the Light and onto the beach of Zoe's vision in the Black, he was struck again by its simple perfection. The sun was setting, casting a golden glow over the ocean water as the palm
trees rustled lazily in a warm breeze that carried the citrusy smell of oranges from a nearby grove. Making the scene appear even more ideal was the sight of his grandfather kneeling over the glowing coals of a fire, expertly cooking fish and vegetables on a spit.

"Hello, Cooper," came a welcoming voice.

Cooper turned quickly to see Maggie walking lazily toward him along the shore in ankle-deep water. She had her shoes in one hand while gripping the hem of her dress in the other to keep it dry.

Seeing Maggie approach him with the sweet smile that
she had finally found, Coop allowed himself to imagine what it might be like to forget he had ever heard of Damon the Butcher and stay on that idyllic beach to enjoy whatever time that was left of normal.

"I've been worried about you," Maggie said as she joined him.

"I'm fine. Sort of. What about you guys?"

Maggie gestured toward the village and said, "We've had a guardian angel."

Coop looked to where she was pointing and the illusion of paradise instantly vaporized.

Zoe sat on an overturned boat, grasping the black spirit sword, vigilantly watching over them. She was on alert and ready to roll. Her steely gaze told the real story: There was no way they could forget Damon.

Coop gave her a wave.

Zoe returned the gesture with a slight, businesslike nod. "Did you find Ree?" Maggie asked.

Coop frowned and shook his head.

"Listen," he said, suddenly nervous. "I, uh, I've got some bad news, but before I tell everyone, I want you to promise me something."

"Sure. What?"

Coop ran his hands through his hair and stared at his Pumas.

"What's the matter?" Maggie asked innocently. "You're never at a loss for words."

"Yeah, well, I've never said something like this before." Maggie reached out and gently lifted his chin so she could look into his eyes.

"Just say it."

Coop took a deep breath and said, "Things are going to get nasty. There's no way I can predict where we'll end up once the dust settles. If it settles."

Maggie didn't interrupt but kept her eyes locked on his. "What I'm saying is, I don't want anything to happen to you."

She gave him a slight smile and said, "I don't want any
thing to happen to
any
of us."

"I know, me neither, but I feel as if I've just gotten to know you, and after all you've been through, it just doesn't seem right that you should have to risk your future when you're so close to getting out of the Black and—"

"How do you know I'm getting out?"

"I don't. Not really. But if anybody deserves to move on to a better place, it's you. You've paid your dues a couple times over and that's what gets you sprung, right?"

"I suppose," she said with a shrug.

"Well, that's what I think, so what I'm asking is that when things start to hit the fan, you do your best to stay out of it."

"And what if I want to be with you?" she asked.

Coop had an argument all ready, but in that moment, all he could think about was how much he cared for Maggie Salinger. He pulled her toward him and hugged her close.

"That's the last place you should be," he said.

The two stood together for a long moment. Coop pressed his cheek into her hair, sensing the vague sweet smell of freshly picked apples.

"Coop? Are you crying?"

Coop cleared his throat and pulled away from her. "Jeez, no! Give me a break. I'm just . . . I'm just . . .
Look, I'm not one for being all sentimental. I'm just not."

Maggie smiled coyly, "I think you're doing just fine."

"Yeah, well, all I'm saying is that after all you've been
through, you've earned a free pass out of this mess and I
want you to keep your head down. Okay?"

Maggie reached up, wrapped her hands around his neck, and whispered, "I love you, too."

She leaned up to him and the two kissed. For a moment they were back on the Ferris wheel at
Playland
, where noth
ing else mattered but the two of them.

And Cooper was indeed crying.

"Coop!" Gramps yelled from his spot farther down the beach. "Jeez, come up for air and get over here!"

Maggie and Cooper pulled back from each other, laughing.
"
Awkward," Coop said, sniffing.

"I'm not promising anything, Coop," Maggie said. "But thank you for worrying about me."

Coop quickly wiped his eyes and said, "Let's go see what he's hollering about."

He held Maggie's hand and the two hurried along the shoreline toward his grandfather. Zoe left her station and they all joined together around the fire.

"The fishing here is pretty darn sweet," Gramps said with a sparkle in his eyes that Coop was glad to see had returned. "
A
l
ls
I had to do was dip a net, and the critters practically jumped in, asking to be roasted."

Zoe and Maggie sat on opposite sides of Foley while Coop knelt in the sand, facing him.

"That is how I remember it, so that is how it is," Zoe said.

"And I've been picking some of the tastiest tomatoes and
peppers I ever seen. Puts my garden to shame. Who's hungry?"

Nobody answered.

"
Aww
, c'mon," Foley cajoled. "We're all on borrowed time. Might as well enjoy ourselves."

"I'll eat," Maggie said diplomatically.

"That's my girl!" Foley exclaimed, and stripped off a flaky piece of white fish from the spit. He put it on a wide banana leaf along with a charred section of roasted red pep
per and a juicy slice of tomato and handed it to her.

"Should be seasoned just right," he added. "I found all sorts of things up in Zoe's house."

Maggie sampled the food and smiled with appreciation.

Foley beamed. It struck Cooper that since the two had come to terms with their pasts, his grandfather was treating
Maggie as if she too were a grandchild. It was one of the few positive results that came from their encounter with Damon the Butcher.

While they spoke of fish and vegetables, Zoe never took her eyes from Coop. She was searching for some hint as to what he may have learned since their escape from the Colosseum.

Coop didn't want to break the spell of the warm moment. It wasn't until he caught Zoe's questioning gaze that he finally gave in and allowed reality to return.

"I don't know how else to say this, so I'll just put it out there," he began. "Damon has the poleax."

All three erupted with stunned shouts of surprise and anger, none more so than Zoe. She sprang to her feet as if
the news had sent a painful electric shock through her. She gripped the black sword in both hands, spun back to Coop, and through clenched teeth whispered one strained word.

"How?"

"Does it matter?" Coop answered.

"Too many souls have been lost trying to prevent this from happening," Zoe answered. "Including my father's. Yes, it matters."

Cooper didn't want to put it all onto Marsh's shoulders, but he didn't want to lie to Zoe either. She didn't deserve that.

"It wasn't any one thing," Coop said. "It was a series of events that started when Damon's tomb was discovered and the first crucible was broken. Once that happened, it was only a matter of time."

"But we defeated his army!" Zoe cried. "And the Rift was sealed!"

"Because the Watchers stepped in," Coop corrected. "Let's be honest here. The Guardians were noble and brave and all that, but they didn't beat Damon. The guy is too smart. And powerful. He was bound to find the poleax eventually."

"Where was it?" Maggie asked.

"Hidden in Ree Seaver's tomb," Coop answered with no emotion.

Foley whistled in awe. "So she was holding on to it the whole time . . . so to speak."

"No, Ree's body wasn't in her tomb. She went through the Rift, remember? And not that I want to pile it on, but you should know, once Damon got the poleax, the first thing he did was tear open
another Rift."

Maggie and Foley looked to Zoe, waiting for her reaction.

This time she didn't respond with anger. It was as if the news had numbed her. She dropped down on her knees in the sand, unable to hold her own weight.

"It was all for nothing," she said, stunned. "He has won."

"Whoa, let's not go there," Coop cautioned. "This isn't over."

"What do you think he'll do now?" Maggie asked.

"He's going to assemble another army," Coop replied. "I think that's why he was in ancient Rome. He's pulling spir
its from all over the Black, and from what I saw he won't have much trouble. That place is like a crossroads of the angry dead."

"
And then what?" Foley asked.

"I don't know," Coop answered. "The guy is out to prove he can lead an army into battle and I think he's going to do just that . . . and march on the Light."

"Cripes," Foley said with dismay. "But he won't have the
same abilities in the Light that he does here. Will he?"

"No, but even if he gets his ass kicked, blasting open the Morpheus Road and allowing spirits to travel freely between dimensions would be . . . would be . . ."

"It would be the end of the world," Foley said soberly. He dropped his portion of fish into the fire.

"Then we
have
lost," Zoe said with finality.

"No, we haven't," Coop corrected. "I think if there's any chance of stopping Damon, we've got to let him have his battle."

"What?" Maggie said with surprise. "Why? I thought—"

"Not in the Light," Coop interrupted. "In the Black."

"I do not understand," Zoe said.

"If Damon can gather an army, so can we," Coop explained. "Many of the Guardians are out there. Most still have their weapons. Zoe, we've got to rally them. You said how many spirits have made sacrifices to protect the Rift and stop Damon? They're going to have to do it again. Start tripping through visions. Find them. Recruit more. Bring them here. We're going to have to fight again, and this time we've got to be a little smarter about it."

Foley said, "You're talking about destroying a whole lot of good spirits to do this."

"If Damon has his way, they're going to be destroyed anyway. At least this way we're fighting back."

Coop stood over Zoe and looked down at the young sol
dier who so recently saw her father's spirit destroyed battling the same forces that Cooper was asking them to face again.

"Will you do it?" Coop asked.

Zoe got to her feet and stood toe-to-toe with Coop. "Do you have to ask?"

Coop smiled.

"Where will we start?" Zoe asked.

"Not 'we,"' Coop said. "You. I'm going after Ree. The
Guardians have already lost one leader. They can't lose both."

"Agreed," Zoe said, and held out her black sword. "Take this."

Cooper backed off. "No, thanks. Not my style."

"But how will you get past Damon to free her without one?" Zoe asked.

"I don't think I'll have to. Now that he has the poleax, he's written us off. He doesn't think we're a threat anymore. That's the biggest mistake he could make."

"Then, we will be safe, but you will not. Not if you seek Ree Seaver. Take the weapon."

Coop hesitated, then reached out and grabbed the black sword.

"Thank you," he said. "You'll get it back."

"What about us?" Foley asked.

"I want you and Maggie to stay here and wait for Zoe to come back. She'll need help organizing the Guardians."

Maggie approached Cooper and held his hands. "Can I say something?"

"Sure," Coop replied.

"We're going to stop him," she said with confidence. "I've never felt more sure about anything."

"Well, good," Coop said awkwardly. "That makes one of us."

"No, it makes all of us. We have faith in you because you did something that nobody else has ever done. You con
vinced the Watchers to intervene."

"Yeah, well, I don't think they'll do it again," Coop cautioned.

"Don't be so sure. They did it once because we were in the right, and we still are. We will triumph because I believe we are all part of the same living being, and living beings heal. We are going to heal. I truly believe that and I believe the Watchers will eventually help."

"Can I quote you on that?" Coop said with a nervous laugh.

"You can," Maggie said. "I'm only going to ask one thing of you."

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