"But . . . why would he do that?" Maggie gasped with confusion.
"Because he is afraid not to," was Damon's answer.
After having seen the dog from hell in Sheriff
Vrtiak's
car, I had no doubt that Damon was telling the truth. Whatever he was doing to the man behind the wheel of that boat, the poor guy had no power to stop himself.
"No," Ree said, barely above a whisper.
"Oh yes," Damon replied, then turned to me. "If you are going to run off with the crucible, I suggest you do it quickly unless you would like to witness the execution."
"Stop it!" Ree screamed and raised her black sword.
Damon held his ground, flashing his own black sword. Ree backed off.
"Sydney can get out of this," I said, trying more to convince myself than anybody else.
"Do you think?" Damon asked thoughtfully. "Perhaps I should ensure the outcome."
Two more cigarette boats materialized on the lake, headed after the Jet Ski. They were identical to the one being driven by the man, only at the
wheel of each of these boats was Gravedigger, Marsh's skeletal character.
Damon looked at me, and winked.
I wanted to smash his pointed teeth.
"What happened?" Maggie screamed. "Where did they come from? How is that possible?"
"They're illusions," I said.
"Tricks of light," Damon said, chuckling. "But they will make it so much more difficult for your sister to find a way to escape."
Sydney started pushing the Jet Ski into tight turns to avoid being run down by the new boats. She had no idea that they couldn't hurt her. No sooner would she slide out of the way of one, than she'd steer directly into the path of another and have to make a quick correction. It would only be a matter of time . . . before she ran out of time.
"Now," Damon said, back to business. "Destroy the crucible and they will live."
I wrapped my fingers around the golden ball.
"Please," Ree begged. "There must be another way."
"There is," Damon declared. "Produce the poleax for me. Here and now."
"I don't know where it is," she sobbed.
"Then there is no other way," Damon said coldly.
I lifted up the golden ball.
"I can find the poleax," I said. "I can go into the Light and get it."
Ree glanced to me, then back to the terrifying scene unfolding on the lake.
"Interesting," Damon said. "Who are you making that promise to? The Guardians? Or me?"
"Leave Marsh alone," I demanded. "He can't help you if he's dead."
"He isn't doing much to help me alive," Damon said with a sneer. "Other than to control you, my friend."
Sydney took another sharp turn and barely missed being sliced by the cigarette boat. The
real
cigarette boat.
Ree sobbed as if she was physically in pain. She lunged at Damon but it was a weak effort and he easily knocked her sword away. Damon wasn't much of a warrior, but he was in control. Though she was hardened by her experiences, Ree was still a civilian mom who was about to witness the violent death of her only son.
"Stop!" I screamed at Ree. "Don't risk it."
"Oh, please do!" Damon taunted.
Ree held the sword in both hands. She was a mess. Even if she had fighting skills, there was no way she could stand up to Damon in that state.
The space behind her seemed to ripple and bend as another cloud of color appeared. Stepping from the swirl was Adeipho, along with several of the Guardians. All were armed, many with black swords. Adeipho stepped up behind Ree and gently took hers.
"It is all right, Ree," he said soothingly. "This is not your battle."
Ree gave up the sword and backed away, but didn't take her eyes off the action that was unfolding in the Light.
"Has it come to this?" Damon said to Adeipho. "Again?"
Before Adeipho could make a move, several of Damon's own soldiers appeared behind him. They
too were armed. Each side held the weapons they had fought with thousands of years before and had carried into the Black.
"Is this what you wanted?" Maggie whispered to me.
I didn't know. I thought that the Guardians could handle Damon's soldiers, but now that it was about to happen, I had second thoughts.
"This isn't about them," Ree exclaimed, pointing to the images from the Light. "Leave them alone."
"When my demands are met," Damon said coolly.
Ree looked back to the Light—and screamed. Sydney had turned their Jet Ski directly into the path of an oncoming boat. They were seconds away from a head-on collision.
Damon looked at me with a smile. "I do like your sister. She is quite resourceful."
"No!" Ree sobbed as the Jet Ski hit the oncoming boat . . . and traveled through it as if it weren't there. Because it wasn't. It was one of Damon's illusions. Sydney and Marsh had figured it out.
"
And what will happen now?" Damon asked. "They cannot evade the real craft for much longer, and to what end? Whether it be now or a millennium from now, I will find the poleax. I suggest we save ourselves a dozen lifetimes of bother and play this out. Now. Break the crucible, Foley. This battle will happen whether or not they survive, and their sacrifice will have meant nothing."
The illusion boats vanished. It was down to the one real boat and the Jet Ski. Sydney had run out of maneuvering room. The guy driving the boat
had them in his sights and was closing fast, seconds from running them down.
I lifted the crucible, not knowing what I would do. Two small armies were facing each other in Maggie's front yard, ready to battle. Adeipho may have been the superior commander, but neither army looked as if they had an advantage. As I looked to the opposing forces I realized that Adeipho wasn't the only general who had gathered forces from every era imaginable. Damon had also recruited warriors
from across time. On both sides were modern soldiers next to peasants in rags. Men in tattered business suits beside knights in chain mail. There were Roman centurions, Native Americans, World War I–vintage doughboys, and men and women wearing worn clothing that could have come from any time. Any place. Those in front held the black swords that would be the principal weapons in battle. Everyone else had standard swords, tools, rifles, shields, and knives. Those weapons would not destroy any spirits, but would do some damage.
One side winning would ensure the continued wellbeing of mankind. Victory by the other side could mean Armageddon.
Looking up at the Light, I saw that Sydney was driving the Jet Ski at full throttle, but the speedboat was closing. Marsh had turned and was holding an orange pistol in his hand that looked like a flare gun. He was aiming it at the oncoming boat. It was their last, desperate chance.
I held up the crucible. My decision was made. I couldn't see how their deaths would change anything that was unfolding in the Black. I had to smash it.
The terror in
Ree's
eyes as she watched the imminent death of her son hit me like a punch to the gut.
The boat was nearly on top of them.
She looked back to me and screamed, "Don't do it! There are worse things than death!"
Her warning threw me. I didn't expect that. I thought for sure she would want to save her son. It made me hesitate.
Marsh fired the flare gun. The white-hot streak shot toward the boat and veered far to the right. It wasn't going
to come close. Their last hope was gone.
To save them, I had to break the crucible. I lifted it higher . . .
. . . and it was suddenly yanked out of my hand. I had
been so focused on the images from the Light that I didn't realize somebody else had arrived.
"Can't let you do this," Gramps said.
My grandfather had taken the crucible and quickly backed away from everybody.
Adeipho made a move for him . . .
. . . too late. Gramps got down on one knee and smashed the golden ball onto a rock. Bits of glass flew everywhere, along with a splash of blood. The blood of Alexander the Great.
Ree let out an anguished cry and collapsed to the ground.
In the vision, the path of the flare suddenly changed direction. It made a sharp, impossible turn and flew directly toward the driver of the boat. The moment it passed the driver's head, it exploded in a brilliant ball of fire, making the man throw his arms up to protect himself as he fell back toward the stern. The speeding craft was out of control and clipped the tail of the Jet
Ski, sending it spinning. But Sydney quickly regained control.
The driver of the boat scrambled to his feet, desperate to regain control of the hurtling craft—too late. The boat slammed full-force into a seaplane that was bobbing on the surface of the lake.
The explosion was stupendous. I could swear I felt the heat, though that was impossible. The gas tank of the plane exploded, followed by the grander explosion of the boat's tank. A mushroom cloud of smoke and flame blew into the sky, along with the hull of the doomed boat. Bits and pieces of flaming debris landed in the lake, raining down around Marsh and Sydney, who steered away from the carnage, safe. Damon had kept his end of the bargain.
And thanks to Gramps, so had I.
The colored cloud enveloped the images from the Light and vanished. There was a moment of stunned silence.
Damon took a step forward to face Adeipho. Adeipho stood up straight. Damon looked to me with a satisfied smile and saluted me with his sword.
"We are so very much alike," he said. "It matters not how the victory is achieved, so long as it is a victory."
"I'm nothing like you," I growled back at him.
"Do not be so sure," he said with a knowing laugh. He gestured to his soldiers and said, "We both want the same thing . . . to return to a life that was left unfulfilled."
He then looked to Adeipho and announced, "And for that, we will fight."
Maggie grabbed my arm. I expected the two armies to charge each other right then and there. Instead, Damon turned his back on Adeipho and
marched toward his own soldiers. Another colorful swirling cloud appeared and Damon walked straight into it, disappearing. He was followed by each and every one of his soldiers. They marched together into the cloud and disappeared. A moment later, the cloud was gone.
"What just happened?" I asked, stunned.
Ree was still on the ground. Through her tears she said, "There is only one place for this battle."
I knew exactly what she meant. Breaking the third crucible had opened the door.
Damon's objective was now in sight.
There was going to be a battle for the Rift.
26
Adeipho reached down to take
Ree's
hand. The poor woman no longer looked like the confidant leader of the Guardians of the Rift. Witnessing the near death of her son had devastated her, among other things. She seemed beaten before the battle could even begin. The tall warrior helped her to her feet with a gentleness I didn't expect from the battle-hardened soldier. Once on her feet, Ree gave him a nod as if to say, "I'm okay." Adeipho backed off to join the Guardians, who stood together, waiting.
"Maybe you're right," Ree said.
It took a second for me to realize she was talking to me because she kept her eyes on the ground.
"This battle was inevitable. But you have to understand, breaking the crucible made it so much more difficult."
I looked to Gramps. The guy was stunned. He had no
idea what was going on. He stared back at me with scared, wide eyes.
"Why?" I asked Ree.
Adeipho answered. "Because now we are vulnerable."
"Go," Ree commanded Adeipho. She was slowly regaining her composure, and her authority.
"Do not delay," Adeipho cautioned.
"I won't," Ree responded.
The swirling clouds of color appeared behind the band of Guardians. Adeipho turned and his people parted to allow him to stride past them and into the mist. The Guardians fell in line behind him and were quickly swallowed up. Just like that, the two armies had retreated to prepare for battle.
Gramps touched me on the shoulder. "I don't know what any of this means," he said tentatively. "But you were going to break that golden ball and I didn't want that on your head." He held up his hands for me to see. Like
Ree's
hands, they were covered with the blood of Alexander the Great.
"You're right," I said. "I was going to break it."
"Then let the fallout be on me," he declared. He looked to Maggie and added, "I deserve whatever comes my way. I know that saying how sorry I am doesn't mean much, but please know that I am. I've
always
been sorry. I just haven't been strong enough to tell you."
Maggie stared back at him, stone-faced. She was angry and I didn't blame her. She wasn't about to forgive Gramps and I didn't blame her for that either.