Stones: Theory (Stones #4) (74 page)

You can’t win Matt. I’m too strong. I’ll have to kill you.

A final surge of energy descends from above like a steel piston slamming down. His palms thrust up against it, pushing it away, but it begins to bend his arms down. He staggers under the weight.

And then Matt finally understands.

There is only one path forward.

Bringing his arms down, he looks up and opens himself to the force, no longer trying to push back. It tears through his mind, and he willingly drinks it in, tastes it, accepts it, allows it to destroy him, absorbing it like a sponge so that none of it can pass beyond and hurt the billions of minds that cower behind him in fear.

Five simple words form on his lips.

Take me, and not them.

He feels it coming and knows what it means, but does nothing to stop it. As the crescendo reaches the apex of its rise, every particle of his mind explodes in a supernova of light.

W
hen Yarah gets back to Matt and Ryzaard, they are both standing over the sphere, palms on its surface, eyes closed, bodies bent forward in postures of intense concentration and pain. Ryzaard flexes the muscles of his jaw. Matt’s eyes jerk back and forth under the lids, and then look straight up.

The words of Jhata spill through Yarah’s mind again.

Find the kill switch.

She reaches out for Ryzaard’s mind, but it’s like climbing up a chute filled with high-pressure water coming straight down. A force of incredible pressure flows out of his thoughts, into the Stones, through the sphere and into the network.

She tries again with the same result. All she can do is watch and wait.

Then a tremor tumbles through Ryzaard. He draws in a hard breath as the sphere lights up under his hands like the white Stones on his chest.

He screams and tears his hands off the sphere just before it explodes into a ball of white sparks.

And then, for half a second, the flow out of Ryzaard’s mind stops.

The gate to his mind opens.

And she gets in.

Her feet go wobbly, and she falls down. An earthquake churns up the dark plain, sending waves and ripples across its dark surface. Black rain pours down, drenching her hair and clothes. Struggling to her feet, she strains to see the top of razorback range of mountains. The mountain peaks are backlit by bolts of lightning, and she can just make out the faint outline of the torii gate and its red glow.

A massive wall begins to rise from the floor of the plain, between her and the mountains.

Gripping the Stone in her right hand, she sprints toward the wall.

Above her, soaring dark shapes with long tails fill the sky, their veined wings beating the air with a regular rhythm.

Through the rain, she hears a hissing sound behind her and casts a backward glance. A white snake with the girth of a car slides up out of a hole. It rears up like a cobra and surveys the landscape. As it locks eyes on her, two tongues shoot out from its mouth like crimson worms. She turns back to the mountains and sprints away, pumping her legs until the muscles burn.

Gazing up, she closes her eyes for a brief second, grips the Stone and tries to make a jump to the mountain peak. But there’s no flash of light, no sense of motion.

The viper glides through the mud behind her, its soft scraping sound coming closer. The ground shakes with another earthquake, and a meter-wide crack opens up next to her feet, running on a parallel track with her line of motion. It surges ahead and suddenly comes to a stop where it intersects with a yawning gorge that opens up ten meters ahead.

Steams boils up out of its depths.

Yarah pushes off the edge and throws herself high and forward. Moving through the white cloud rising from below, she hits the top of her arc and begins a downward fall. When she emerges from the cloud, she learns too late that the other side is still meters away. She glances down into the black depths of the gorge and up at the lip of the gorge on the opposite side.

Piercing pain throbs through her spine as the fangs of the snake close on her shoulder.

A tremor surges through the snake. It pulls her higher, and then the jaws open and drop her onto the other side of the gorge. Yarah looks up as a huge dragon flies off with the writhing snake in its jaws.

Rolling over and pushing up with her hands, the mountain range, still a dozen kilometers away, rises from the valley floor. Flying dragons crowd the sky like schools of fish, their leathery wings making the sound of distant heartbeats in the air. Clouds gather over the peaks.

She can no longer make out the torii gate.

Staggering to her feet, she fights the pain in her shoulder, closes her eyes and imagines herself standing at the foot of the wall of mountains. Her eyelids flip open at the sound of a low growl.

A creature with the build of a grizzly bear and the head of a lizard stands at the edge of the gorge she has just cleared. It rears up on hind legs and stares down at her.

She quells the urge to scream and freezes, hoping against all logic that it hasn’t seen her. Its mouth opens wide and emits a high pitched cry.

No longer able to contain herself, Yarah turns to run.

The cries grow closer and then stop. Three more of the creatures rise on hind legs ahead of her. They fan out to form a circle, like wolves preparing for the kill.

Looking beyond them, Yarah sees the entire plain is dotted with a herd of the monsters.

Ryzaard must know she’s in his mind.

One last time, she tries to use her Stone to jump to the mountains. Closing her eyes, she sees herself standing in front of the torii gate looking up at the crossbeams. The air shifts around her. When she opens her eyes, she’s still standing on the plain staring at the creatures.

Something lifts her hair off her shoulders, and she glances up.

A black dragon is at the low point of its power dive, and spreads its wings out to their full ten meter span to catch the air. For a second, it hovers above her. Large talons uncurl from its underbelly, close around both shoulders and scoop her up, flying away from the mountains.

Fighting the pain that throbs down her shoulder blades and the nausea in her gut, Yarah blacks out.

When she opens her eyes, she’s still hanging below the dragon and soaring over a snow-covered tundra dotted with pine trees. Her shoulders and upper back are numb, like concrete blocks. She reaches up to feel them and finds where the talons pierce the skin. Following the talons up, she brushes the dragon’s leg with bare fingers.

There is an immediate connection.

Slipping inside the creature’s mind, she brings the creature down with the ease of guiding a plane. As she crunches onto the snow, it releases its grip and touches down beside her. With her hand on its side, the long neck twists around and begins to lick the wounds on her back and shoulders. Thick sticky saliva penetrates the skin with a burning sensation.

In a few seconds, the marks are gone.

The dragon stares into her eyes. She searches its memory and finds an image of the razorback ridge of mountains. Climbing on top, she hugs the massive neck as the creature takes off into the sky and shoots up.

When they arrive at the spot, dark clouds hang midway down the slopes, hiding the peaks in a shroud. The open plain below is a collection of cracks and gorges from the shockwaves that surge through it.

Yarah does her best to remember where the torii gate is and guides the dragon up a steep slope to the top so they are flying just above the ridge. After scanning for kilometers, she sees it through the mist just ahead and brings the creature down onto the mountain. Panting with fatigue, it rests while she moves ahead on a narrow rocky path that slopes up. Sheer cliff faces fall away on the right and the left.

I know where you are.

Ryzaard’s voice drops down like a message from god.

Matt is dead. Jessica is dead. It’s all over. I don’t want to have to kill you. Your mind is so young and powerful. Please come out, and let me show you what we can do together.

Yarah walks over rocks and scales a large boulder as she draws closer to the gate, half hidden by mist.

There’s so much I can teach you.

She pauses and picks up a black piece of flat rock. Then she throws it like a disc over the edge and watches it fall away into fog and silence.

You won’t be able to kill me. I know that trick. It’s how I killed Jhata. I’ve sealed off my Core. You won’t be able to find it.

Taking two more steps, Yarah stands at the base of the torii gate. Vermillion pillars reach up twenty feet into the blowing mist. She kneels on the ground and puts her hand out to run along the smooth red surface.

You don’t have the power.

“Yes, I do.” Holding her breath and looking up, Yarah takes two steps forward and stares up as the crossbeams pass over her.

She waits in silence. Then she grips her Stone and jumps up and out to watch Ryzaard die.

M
att is gone.

“He’s dead.” Ryzaard says.

Yarah stares up into the old man’s eyes. “So are you,” she whispers. “Finally.”

The bare beginning of a laugh turns to a choke and a struggle to breath. He clutches at his breast, over his heart, a look of wonder and confusion on his face.

Yarah looks at a body floating head down in a shark mouth only a few meters away. As she stares, the body vanishes. Gazing out on the sea of bodies, they all vanish in a single great wave that travels the circumference of the planet.

Ryzaard’s eyes grow wide with amazement. Lips moving apart in silence, he turns to Yarah.

She reads the question in his mind.

“Because I can,” she says.

His eyes close, and his body goes limp. The Stones on his chest turn black.

His body disappears.

Y
arah kneels down beside the still body of Ryzaard in his office.

Her gaze drifts out the window to a massive bridge, shrouded in mist. Her fingers find a pile of black Stones on the floor beside Ryzaard. She doesn’t notice the soft footsteps behind her until a hand comes down on her shoulder.

Slowly turning her face up, Yarah sees a Chinese woman looking down at her. The woman’s eyes go to Ryzaard’s body on the floor and come back to Yarah.

“Thank you,” the woman says. Walking past Yarah, she stoops down and picks up the Stones, one by one, and drops them into a black leather bag.

Yarah notices the carbon gloves on the woman’s hands.

Bending close to Yarah, the woman gently raises her up. “I think these belong to you.” She hands the black bag to Yarah. “Take them and keep them safe.”

Yarah holds the bag in one hand and looks down at the white Stone in her other hand.

A rush of footsteps comes up a stairway and across the floor behind them. Three men and a lady with bright blonde hair run through the entrance to Ryzaard’s office. They all stop behind the Chinese woman, their gaze falling on the dead body of Ryzaard on the floor.

The Chinese woman bows deeply and comes up. Tears flow down her cheeks. One by one, the others bow in Yarah’s direction.