The Burn (28 page)

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Authors: K J Morgan

BOOK: The Burn
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Each grappled for control, slamming the other into the metal with force enough to dent it. Seth pulled the Necromancer off balance and struck him, whipping his head back and spilling blood across the floor.

The monster dropped to one knee, squinting. "How could you have come back so strong? It's not possible."

"You can't stay in this world," Seth replied.

"Think you can banish me? It's too late for that. The Gate will open and your human body will be found. The ancients will have lost their bargain. Human self rule will end. We both know that they are undeserving of the gift."

"You haven't won yet."

The Necromancer grinned, his teeth stained with blood. "Khagan, obey your master, send this fool back to oblivion."

The Khagan reached for Seth, the thickening energy of the room crackling from his armor. Seth turned to deflect his grasp and the Necromancer attacked him from the side, forcing his dagger under Seth's ribs, beyond caring about whatever damnation it would bring now.

The blade sank to the hilt.

Miranda screamed, watching Seth stagger forward with his teeth clenched, facing two attackers now. Blood dripped from his wound, his chest heaving in agony. The Khagan kicked him and he fell back, cold traces of energy cording along his skin. The Necromancer joined the attack, his blows vicious, Seth's deflections weakening.

The Goddess of Excess began to glow through her symbol, her song rising. Miranda felt the pull of the higher dimension, the lightness in her being slipping above the pain, called to join the Gate as it opened. The air went white around her, shards of brilliance glaring through the haze.

"Seth!" she cried out, knowing that he was losing this fight. She saw him in the bright distance now, his human form burned away, the purity of his soul shining in its place.

He struggled against two shadows, their shapes tearing at him, their outlines churning and violent. As he turned, she could see the strength of his being caught against the infinite sky, an iridescent glow spreading like great wings from his core, brilliant and fleeting.

He was fading. She could see it. She could
feel
it.

He couldn't fight them both.

Clenching her teeth, she focused her belief, willing her human form back under her control, trembling as pain returned and the glow faded from her sight.

The floor grate came into focus underneath her and she pushed up, forcing herself to rise and stumble forward. The voices of the Rathvam had become clear and distinct, no longer whispers, their power ringing from the metal.

She crossed out of the room and dropped to her knees in the outside corridor, pulling up the floor grate. The passage to the lower level appeared beneath her and she lowered herself into it, holding her stomach as she dropped into the darkness.

Controlling her descent, she slipped through the passage and slowed to a stop, crawling with difficulty onto the grate of the lower chamber.

"Where is it?" she hissed.

The Rathvam whispered, guiding her along the wall, leading her to the detonator at its base, and the charge she had lost nearby.

Miranda picked both of them up, knowing that the block of Semtex would tear through the golden floors of the Gate and rip the soft metal apart. She could feel Seth in the glow, his soul losing its light, going dim in the vastness.

The charge would end it, end everything, destroy the Gate.

Turning back, she crossed the chamber and fixed the Semtex to the golden symbol of the Khagan and stepped back, stumbling to the edge of the open hole in the floor.

The warrior's corpse was still there, the skull staring upward, a braid of blonde hair twisting from the bone. She dropped down into the hole with it, dragging the grate overhead and ducking low.

Raising the detonator, she flipped open the switch-guard and pressed her finger to the button, shutting her eyes against the loss she couldn't bear.

"Seth," she whispered. "Thank you."

* * *

Seth heard her through a haze of bleak exhaustion, his strength failing even as her song reached him. They were the higher notes of a goddess, her emotion pure and clear. She was going to end it, destroy the Gate.

He braced himself for it, knowing that it might give him a moment before he slipped away, just the right moment. It was all that he wanted now.

He would never see Miranda again, never know her closeness, or have the life he had once yearned for with her. But her world might continue. It was the only gift he had left to give. He fell beneath another crushing blow, the Khagan's power now drawing completely from the Gate, from the infinite reality it channeled through its metal heart.

Be quick, he thought.
Be quick.

* * *

Miranda felt the warping power of the Gate spreading across the desert outside, the playa slowly distorting in its grasp. She closed her eyes, her finger cinched up on the button. Conjuring the memory of Seth driving his RV, smiling at her with the sun at his back, she pressed the button.

* * *

The explosion in the Gate echoed into eternity, the screech and cry of its destruction ringing with the screams of the goddesses. There was a shift in the light, a blurring of power. The Khagan's soul glared to radiance, then disappeared, its strength leaving a luminous swirl behind.

Asmud roared. His soul grew dark in the haze, his form mutating into something twisted and painful.

Seth slipped back, reaching to find the handle of the dagger in his side. The Necromancer leapt forward, clawing at the air, desperate to destroy the object of his rage. Turning toward him, Seth shoved the blade into the monster's chest, releasing a dark spill of energy into the eternal sky. Asmud tumbled, his power released with a murderous cry. His outline grew dim and disappeared, leaving Seth to follow him into oblivion.

He drifted in the light, feeling his own energy slip away, surprised by the emotions that filtered toward him from above.

* * *

There was the sensation of being carried, the smoke acrid and cloying in her lungs, the sounds around her confusing. Miranda drew a breath of cold air, catching a glimpse of the night sky above her, its black field set with crystal stars.

She felt the sand rise underneath her and sensed the warmth of a human heartbeat nearby, comforting her as she slipped back into the embrace a dream.

* * *

The heartbeat changed rhythms, then abruptly paused, replaced by a cool stream of synthesizer music. Cigarette smoke drifted on the breeze. Laughter erupted from somewhere close. The sounds of people stirred all around her.

Miranda pressed her lips together, finding them cracked and covered in dust. Her body ached. A dull pain throbbed behind her eyes. She felt dazed, her senses swimming. She blinked awake, bringing a skewed view of the desert into focus before her, its pastel horizon appearing from under the stiff folds of a tarp.

I'm alive.

Pushing up from the sand, she brushed the canvas cover away and stared at her fingers. They were solid and real, human flesh paled by the light of an early dawn. "Alive," she whispered, glancing down at the tarp.

Tossing the rest of the fabric back, she found Seth lying in the sand next to her, his black hair caked with dust, his lashes brushed white. He was breathing, his broad chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm, his eyes closed…the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen.

"Seth!" She leaned forward, anxious to put her hands on him. He felt warm under her fingers.
Alive.
She sat back and covered her face with her hands, tears welling in her eyes as she rocked with gratitude, unsure of exactly who or what she was thanking.

"Miranda?" his voice was rasping, uncertain.

She dropped her hands from her eyes to find him staring at her. "You got us out, restored us like this."

"No."

She wet her lips, tasting the desert on them. "Then who was it? How did we get here? What happened?"

"Stay here."

"What?"

He rose and pushed unsteadily to his feet, heading for the Byzantine tent nearby. Miranda swore under her breath, rising to follow.

They walked under the DJ stage. Music still thumped from the speakers beside it, a handful of dancers circling each other in the dust. Most of the camp now sat in ruins, its tents destroyed or half-collapsed, its glittering trees overturned, the arena covered in sleeping revelers and litter.

A man in a bear suit snored at the foot of the steps leading to the Gate. Seth stepped around him and climbed the short flight of stairs, slipping into the darkness of the tent. She hesitated, not wanting to face the old horrors or risk finding new ones. She'd seen enough, bled enough.

Clenching her teeth, she pushed back the tent flap and followed, bracing herself for whatever or whomever she might find.

There was no one there. The Gate loomed in the murk, damaged and silent. No songs threaded from its walls. No soft glow lit its corridors.

She frowned, thinking of all the souls that had helped her, all of the Rathvam voices that had guided her, even when it meant handing her the tools to destroy their own existence. Where were they now?

She could hear Seth's footsteps on the metal and she followed the noise, walking through the entrance and down the closest corridor. The markings still appeared on the metal around her, but there was no resonance, no life in them.

An open section of floor grating appeared before her and she paused, hearing Seth mulling in the chambers below. Grimacing, she crouched down and lowered herself into the hole. She slid awkwardly along its length, no longer able to control her movement or alter the physical laws it obeyed.

The destroyed chamber appeared at the end of the passage and she spilled into it, tumbling to land at Seth's feet. She swore under her breath and felt his strong hands pull her up, the warmth of his body as he steadied her.

"Pete—"

"I got him out while you were dueling with the Khagan. He'll recover."

"And the Khagan?"

"Got us out."

She blinked, looking down at the place where the Khagan's body had been. The grate above it had twisted, its metal ripped apart and distorted by the blast. The shadowed space beneath it was empty, offering no trace of the skeleton that had once stared up from its depths.

She struggled for an explanation.

"All three of us were restored," Seth offered. "And he is serving a different kind of sentence now."

"Meaning…"

"I've been replaced."

She stared at him. "Replaced? You mean like fired?"

"It's not a punishment. It's a reward."

"For saving the world?"

"Something like that."

"But—she cut her gaze to empty crypt. "You're the Master of the Gate, right? I didn't think you could be replaced."

"I wasn't the first."

"What do you mean you weren't the 'first'?"

"How much do you want to know?"

"None of it," she snapped. "I don't want to know anything more, just tell me that this part is real."

"It's real."

"And we can just walk away."

"On the condition that we never look back."

"What?"

He granted her a tired smile. "I'm retiring to Sedona. Wanna come?"

She smiled in spite of herself, catching his brevity as if it were a lifeline. "Yeah, I think I do."

"Good," he said, sliding his black Stetson over his hair.

"You found your hat."

"What did you think I came back in here for?"

"Right."

"C'mon," he said, offering his hand.

They climbed out of the passage, walking steadily through the silent corridors until they reached the bridge and the tent beyond it. Seth brushed back the flap and led her into the orange glare of daybreak.

The playa stretched out before them, its surreal canvas brushed with music and movement, things built and destroyed, cherished and wasted, the great social experiment finding form and purpose that not even its participants understood.

From the haze of rich sunlight, Sheriff vehicles began to appear along the road, heading swiftly for the Gate.

"Time to go," Seth remarked.

"You're sure? Just go and be normal? That's a lot of power to give up."

"Won't miss it," he said darkly. "Besides, I've still got a goddess to take care of, don't I?"

Clasping her fingers, he raised them to his lips, leading her gently away from the shadowy wreckage behind them.

Morgan Karpiel

K.J. Morgan is the pen name for Morgan Karpiel, an RWA Golden Heart Finalist (2005, 2009 & 2010) and the recipient of the prestigious Maggie Award of Excellence in Fiction. She is the author of light romantic erotica and science fiction. She also welcomes you to visit her on Facebook at
K.J. Morgan

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