Rise of the Red Harbinger (59 page)

Adria hesitated.
How do I keep getting into these situations?
“Don’t know Baltaszar. One more question. Then…then I’ll go with you.” Adria put her hands down to the deck and leaned back against the mast. She took a deep breath, nervous about the answer to what she was about to ask. “What are you? You’re not a Descendant. That’s obvious. But no one else can do what we can. So why can you disappear and reappear if you aren’t a Descendant?”

Maqdhuum grinned widely. “Answer to that is easy. But I’m not going to tell you here. Take too long. Let’s get out of here. Then you get the truth. Give me your hand.” He held out his hand, palm up, to her.

Adria lifted her right hand somewhat reluctantly. She was simultaneously intrigued and afraid. She rested her hand in his palm. Adria instantly saw a split-second flash of hundreds of colors extending toward her, then she was sitting on the deck at the other end of the boat. Traveling like this was much preferable to the touch portal leading to the House. “Wow.” Finally free of the shackles, she thanked Orijin.

“See. No reason to be afraid.”

A shout came from where they’d just been. “Let her go! Right now!”

Marshall
. He was with Maven Savaiyon, who also barked a command. “Mouse! Run!” Both of them ran to her instantly. Adria felt Maqdhuum grip her arm and she saw the same brilliant spectrum of colors once more.
No!

***

Horatio stood on the shore, fighting exhaustion and fatigue just as much as the soldiers attacking him and his brethren. Books had described stories of Descendants dying from using their manifestations for too long without rest or sustenance. He assumed that this day would bring the same for him.

He brought forth lightning bolt after bolt, striking soldiers down as they ran ashore. Most were not even aware of him, which made things easier. It was always easier to kill his enemies when he didn’t have to look at their faces. If they were charging someone else, all the better. It had been easy to forget how tired he was because the waves of soldiers were unrelenting.
Marlowe said something about Drahkunov. Keep an eye out for him. What did he look like again?

Many of the others had made it clear that they’d accepted the possibility of dying in this battle. Horatio had held his tongue. He didn’t want to die. He wasn’t sure if that meant he wouldn’t sacrifice his life if the time came, but he might have second thoughts. Perhaps it might depend on the situation.
I guess it’s probably bad to tell them I wish Tasz was here
. He, Tasz and Desmond could have wiped out the whole army within an hour.

He did appreciate the help that actually was on the shore with him, though. Reverron confused soldiers by dashing around and striking them before they could defend. Sindha created a sort of force field to prevent another front from advancing, which allowed other Descendants like Badalao and Malikai to engage them in combat. Behind them, Desmond and Maximilian returned any cannonballs still being fired. Horatio was very appreciative of his manifestation. It did not require much focus to execute simple attacks. Lightning was deadly even when it wasn’t completely accurate.
What did they say Drahkunov looked like? Chubby? Overweight. Galicean feature. And loud. That’s what Savaiyon said. Got to be aware of him.

Suddenly, he felt the need to sit. Despite being healed in the infirmary when he and Savaiyon returned, the only remedy for exhaustion was sleep. Horatio dropped to a knee. More ships were arriving on their perimeter. Soldiers swam in from farther out. His lightning bolts were striking less frequently. And with less accuracy. Horatio put a hand to the ground. He was barely holding on to his manifestation. To let it go would mean certain unconsciousness.

For a moment, Horatio forgot where he was. He saw a different island shore before him.
Damaszur?
This place didn’t look familiar. He shook his head and came back to his reality. In the distance, Horatio saw a chubby man barking orders to his soldiers.
That has to be him. Drahkunov.
The soldiers were following his commands. Horatio attempted to call forth more lightning. Three bolts struck down near Drahkunov, but they hit the soldiers near him instead of the man himself.

The soldiers scuttled away from the area in all directions. Horatio put both hands to the ground. He took several breaths. He shook his head vigorously.
Two. Three attacks left. At most
. His eyes were shutting on him. He dropped to his forearms and struggled to look up. His vision was blurry, but he could still distinguish Drahkunov from the soldiers.

Horatio summoned more lightning. Five or six bolts struck. One of them knocked Drahkunov down, but the others missed completely. Horatio heaved. He could see Drahkunov struggling on the ground, though he looked somewhat different.
Burnt. I must’ve burnt him. Severed body parts. Charred him
. It was the only explanation he could think of. He could barely form a thought. His head touched the ground. C’mon. Finish…him. Horatio looked at Drahkunov writhing once more. With all of his remaining energy, he brought forth several lightning bolts. He kept his head up long enough to see them directly strike the man. Drahkunov no longer moved. Horatio managed to form half of a smile before collapsing to the ground.

***

It amazed Desmond just how many ships there were. He would have guess several hundred. As soon as Maximilian joined him, another brilliant idea formed in Desmond’s mind. If he could get rid of the ships, the battle would end. It wasn’t enough to just fire the cannonballs back at them anymore. “More energy, Maven. More power! We’re gonna end this once an’ fer all!”

Desmond felt the surge right after he made the request. Unfortunately, it came with advice. “I am warning you, Desmond. What you are taking in is dangerous. Promise if we get out of this, you’ll take a break from your manifestation. It would be stupid to do all this to survive, only to die from the very thing that saved your life.”

“I promise, Maven. My word is my bond. Just trust me!” The entire front of the House of Darian was gone, so they could see all of the ships coming upon the shore several hundred feet before them. It helped that the sun was rising.
Hopefully this is over fast enough that we don’t even need Lao for mental communication
.

He focused on a single galley. Desmond kept his eyes open and, slowly and unsteadily, raised it out of the water. He hovered it above the ship next to it, then let it fall. He repeated the same action over and over again. Desmond soon felt comfortable enough that he could raise two at a time and crash them into multiple galleys.

Desmond had hoped for more help from Horatio in destroying the ships, but he was likely busy engaging the soldiers. “Come ta think o’ it, I haven’t seen any lightnin’ in a while. Where is that kid?” he wondered as he continued the barrage on the ships. Desmond relished the wealth of energy that flowed through him. He wished his manifestation was always so easy and powerful.

He could no longer see any ships intact and focused his attention on the shore. “Come, Maven! We should help with the soldiers on the shore!” Desmond ran ahead, not waiting for Maximilian to follow. He remembered quite quickly that he needed to maintain contact with Maximilian to enable the energy surge. Desmond slowed and let Maximilian catch up. They reached one of the shores where the soldiers had engaged the Descendants. With Maximilian’s help, Desmond took soldiers nearly ten at a time and flung them high into the air over the ocean, far enough away that they wouldn’t be able to swim back, even if the fall didn’t hurt or kill them. Others were thrown into the wreckage of the ships. Desmond had no idea when he’d have this much power at his disposal again. He took full advantage. A group of soldiers was swimming in from a nearby sinking galley. Desmond raised the ship and dropped it on the men. Their screams were short-lived.

Desmond reveled in his accomplishment a moment too long. As he smiled at what he’d done, an arrow caught him in the side. “Dammit!” He fell to his knees and Maximilian immediately dragged him back toward the House. They stopped behind a pile of debris. As Maximilian crouched next to Desmond, he realized that the Maven had also been struck through the arm and the chest. The pain that Desmond felt was nothing compared to the longing for the power he’d just been controlling.

Savaiyon suddenly appeared through a gateway next to them, with Marshall behind him. “Get out of here! Now!” He created another gateway that led to a dimly lit alley. “We are not going to win this battle! More soldiers are coming! Too many of us are down! Our only chance is to flee!” Savaiyon shoved Desmond and Maximilian through the gateway. “I will send Lincan to tend to you! Try not to stray too far!”

Desmond looked through the gateway, listening to Savaiyon’s orders. He leaned back against a brick wall and slumped to the ground. His head pounded, craving the manifestation. “Hopefully Lincan gets here soon.” He looked to Maximilian, who lay on the ground, heaving. Blood trickled from the Maven’s mouth.

***

If his old friends could have seen the statues, they would have scoffed.
Pretentious. Overdone. Unnecessary. Contradictory to everything the Harbingers stood for
. Maqdhuum crouched atop the statue of Abram.
City of the Fallen. What a stupid name
. Adria sat next to him, clinging to his arm. The statue’s head alone was big enough for at least two dozen people to stand on. He spit a few feet in front of him and watched as it streamed down the front of the statue’s head. “These statues represent everything that’s wrong with the world. Human beings are so caught up in dedications to others and paying homage to the past that, most of the time, they forget what it means to live a good life and take care of the people who should matter the most to them.”

The girl responded with a witty retort, “Killing people. Cutting off their arms. Is that what it means to live a good life?”

“I do what is necessary. My fate has already been decided.” Soon enough, he would see his life’s purpose fulfilled and then he could be done with humanity. He would be satisfied. Even if it meant an eternity in Opprobrium. The way he saw it, the Orijin owned his soul anyway. If the Orijin wanted him to stay in solitude in Opprobrium forever, it was a fair exchange for his sins and for the undeserved gifts he’d received in his ridiculously long lifetime. Maqdhuum had had enough of people. He could spend the rest of existence never talking to anyone again. “Once we kill Jahmash, you will be rid of me. Tolerate me for that long and then you can have your peace.”

“You still owe me an explanation. Tell me what you are.”

“How about this? I’ll tell you about what’s weighing me down. If you can guess what I am, I promise that you will never feel like a prisoner with me.”

“Do you expect me to say no?”

Maqdhuum smirked. “Enough sarcasm. Just listen. It revolves around a woman named Raya. I showed up at her house about fifteen or twenty years ago. I had a request. Raya came with me willingly. I didn’t do anything to force her. She knew that her actions could ultimately lead to Jahmash’s downfall. I didn’t lie to her or deceive her in that regard. She brought me to the Three Rings. To the Orijin. She knew what I wanted and did not hesitate to help me. Her actions and willingness to help allowed me to acquire a new body. A new face. In exchange for eternal suffering. And mortality. And once I made my deal with the Orijin, bringing Raya to Jahmash was the only way to ensure that Jahmash would trust me. She agreed to be a pawn in the whole endeavor. Maybe not in those exact words. But it’s all the semantics.” Maqdhuum spat again. He would feel no guilt. “Abram had been a coward. Had run away in the face of opportunity. Maqdhuum would not. He would do what was necessary. Even if he must betray people. Even if he must betray Raya, who had left her husband and child at a whimsical but grave request. That was so long ago. She is dead now. If she truly wants revenge, she can exact it when I see her again in the Three Rings. For the rest of my existence.”

“What?”

“Let me continue. Raya’s life and death were tools. She was the first step to Jahmash’s downfall.” And to humanity’s downfall. Though he hadn’t told Raya about that part of it. He wouldn’t tell this girl, either. He wanted to see humanity’s destruction as much as Jahmash’s. Mankind deserved to be obliterated. If not for mankind’s devolution, the world would not be in this state to begin with. Even if he spent the rest of his existence in Opprobrium it was worth it to bring the world down with him. Mankind’s arrogance had cost him Darian. Gideon. Lionel. “Mankind’s stupidity turned Jahmash into a monster. Into the ‘Red Harbinger.’ The Orijin had told each Harbinger that, despite the miracles bestowed on each of them, there would be flaws. Weaknesses.”

“You.” Adria gripped his arm more tightly, but let go as her eyes widened. “You are…Abram. How…why?” Tears streamed from the girl’s eyes.

“Jahmash’s weakness is water. Abram’s was loneliness. I have lived for centuries and no one in that time has managed to fill the void left by the loss of Darian, Gideon, and Lionel. Immortality means nothing if there is no one to share it with. Jahmash will soon realize it as well. Once you Descendants started surfacing, I knew the Orijin had something new in the works. I also knew that Jahmash must be working at something. I needed two things to stop him. First, try to gain his trust. No chance of that if I looked like Abram. Second, by killing people when he asked for them to be killed.”