The Severed Tower (51 page)

The first thing he noticed was Max licking his face. The second was that he was lying on the ground between two jackknifed semitruck trailers that were warped and merged together. Ravan and her men were there, too, staring at each other with odd, disturbed looks.

Holt shuddered as he remembered Max dying, Ravan’s limp form against a wall, the huge Spider walker crashing down on top of them. What the hell just
happened?

Explosions shook the trailers violently. Plasma bolts sizzled through the air. Holt could hear the trumpetings from a hundred Hunters in the air.

“Get your asses up!” Ravan yelled, grabbing her rifle.

Everyone got to their feet as two Hunters leaped onto the roofs of the tractor trailers on either side of them, their cannons priming to fire. The Menagerie’s rifles opened up, spraying bullets upward, and the tripods shuddered and fell away.

More were coming, thundering toward them in a stampede, threatening to overwhelm what was left of the silver reinforcements that were firing desperately in all directions.

Holt and Ravan braced themselves, her men tensed …

And the air was suddenly full of flashing bright shapes that Holt recognized. Tesla Cubes, Mira had called them, the things that had destroyed the Crossroads. They appeared from nowhere, thousands of them, flashing to life right in front of the charging Hunters.

The walkers skidded to a stop, trying to avoid the Anomalies, but there was nowhere to go.

Sparks flew everywhere as the cubes covered and burrowed into the machines, dissolving them where they stood. Lightning flashed down from the swirling clouds, striking in pulses of color. Thunder shook the ground.

The Menagerie watched as the Assembly was torn to pieces by the environment.

A huge, triumphant bellow emitted from behind them, and Holt saw the silver Spider walker stomping forward, its massive cannons firing, sending plasma hurdling into the crowd of dying Hunters.

“Oh, my God…” Ravan said, and Holt turned. They stared above them, past the trailers and the flashing lightning and the fields of glowing cubes, toward the north.

There in the distance, the Severed Tower hung, but the swirling mass of the Vortex was gone, and he and Ravan could see it clearly now. It was … a
Presidium?
It didn’t seem possible, but that was exactly what he saw: a massive Presidium base ship, broken in half, hovering in the air. Standing out against its huge black shape was a small dot of glowing, golden whiteness. It was a figure, Holt could tell. A small one.

“Is … that your girl?” Ravan asked.

“Yeah,” Holt said, smiling. “That’s my girl.”

*   *   *

ZOEY HUNG SUSPENDED JUST
in front of where the Presidium had broken apart all those years ago. She could feel the energy streaming out from it, growing and building. Soon it would be too much for her to control, but it didn’t matter. She would be done by then.

Everything stretched out into infinity. Not just the Strange Lands below, but everything. Pasts. Futures. Presents. Every possible combination of every potential possibility relating to her converged at that exact moment—and every other moment—and they were hers to shape.

For one brief period, she
was
the Tower.

Time yielded to her, and she forced it back, rewinding it all in a blur. Below she saw Mira disintegrate and then re-form. Saw the White Helix cut down, then rise up. Watched the giant silver Spider walker crush Holt’s building and then stand back onto its giant legs.

But she had to do more than that, and she could.

She reached out to the Strange Lands, felt its chaotic power.

Dark Matter Tornadoes dropped from the swirling, black clouds. Antimatter Lightning rained down. She summoned Tesla Cubes, Quark Spheres, and Daisy Chains; she made Time Sinks and Landmines and Pulsars and she flung all of it, the full force of the Strange Lands itself, at the massive Assembly army below, and it stumbled and faltered under the onslaught.

From some of the Assembly, she sensed a new intention. They already hated this place, were terrified of it, and the sight of Zoey, the Scion, controlling all of it, holding their fate in her hands, was enough to break their resolve.

But only for some. Those she spared, directing the energy of the Strange Lands away from them. She did the same for Ambassador and the silver reinforcements it had brought. That was all. She watched as the Tower’s energy tore into the rest and scattered them like leaves in a furious wind.

The air below was covered in flickering, golden energy fields, hundreds of them, lighting up the darkness, but only briefly. They never took shape, it was impossible here. Their energy bled away into the air. Their colors faded.

Scion,
a sudden mass of projections reached her, from hundreds of sources. She could sense their shock, their fear, bleeding off of them.
Why?

The energy of the Tower kept building. It was getting too strong, and the Chance Generator’s influence was fading. She had to redirect it, let it release before it was too late, but still she hesitated. She remembered what the Tower had told her.

Balance must be restored. It is a mathematical necessity. And you are part of the same equation.

Only, she wanted to see Holt again. Wanted to see Mira and the Max. She wanted it all so badly.

The Feelings stirred, rising up eagerly, filling her with strength. Zoey listened, sensing their intentions, their idea. Could it work, she wondered? Was it cheating? She thought the process through, the chain of events she would set in motion. She knew where it led.

But was it the right thing to do? Is it what Holt or Mira would do? Maybe not. Maybe it was selfish, but didn’t she deserve it this once? After all she had done?

The Feelings swirled pleasantly, agreeing, encouraging.

Zoey made her choice. She unleashed the full, impending blast from the singularity, the one that had been building all this time, and used all that chaotic power to shape one final set of events. Events that would still lead to true balance. Only later.

She hoped it would be enough, she hoped fate accepted her bargain.

Behind her, the Assembly Presidium, once known as the Severed Tower, shuddered and flashed blindingly, unsticking in time.

There was a violent, gut-wrenching explosion as it disintegrated into the ground, shaking the earth in a massive fireball that bellowed outward. Zoey closed her eyes and focused. Concentrating the energy, directing it, sending it away from everyone she loved.

Finally, moments later, for the first time in more than nine years—balance was restored.

44.
SUNLIGHT

“MIRA…”

The voice was far away. It wasn’t what she expected. She never expected to hear anything ever again.

“Mira…”

It was a girl’s voice, she could tell. A little girl, and it sounded worried.

She heard and felt other things in her hazy delirium—the sound of a gentle wind, the warmth of the sun—and for some reason, those sensations seemed very out of place.

“Mira.”

The insistent tiny voice pulled her out of the dark. Light poured in as her eyes blinked open—and what she saw didn’t make sense.

The sky was directly above her. It was midafternoon, bright and sunny.

Pieces of buildings and other things hovered over her—windows, gutters, old billboards she couldn’t read, the top of a rusted ambulance, all of it warped in twisted shapes. The wind stirred her red hair gently.

A little girl was next to her. Someone she recognized. Someone she never thought she would see again. Staring down at her with a slight, wondering smile.

“Zoey…” Mira whispered.

“Mira, look,” the little girl urged. “It’s not like it used to be.”

Mira was stunned by what she saw. She remembered the Vortex, tearing her apart in unbelievable pain. She remembered Ben, too. Then she woke here, with Zoey. But where was
here?

It took a moment for her mind to connect the dots.

She was exactly where she had been. In Bismarck. The heart of the Strange Lands. Only the Strange Lands were gone. No oppressing darkness. No black, swirling clouds or furious winds. Even the Charge was missing.

Instead, the sun shown down.
The sun.
Shining through white clouds that only partially covered a brilliant blue sky. Where the Tower had been there was nothing now. Just a massive blackened scar, as if from some epic blast of fire, stretching northward. Everything there was flattened and charred, but to the south it was all untouched.

“What happened?” Mira asked.

“Everything’s like it’s supposed to be,” Zoey told her. “Well. Almost everything.”

Mira wasn’t sure what Zoey meant, but she was too shocked to ask. She couldn’t believe what she was looking at.

“Thank you, Mira,” Zoey said.

“For what?”

“I couldn’t have gotten here without you. You were the only one who could do it.”

The words eclipsed whatever awe Mira felt at the landscape. They were words, just yesterday, she would have thought impossible to hear. It reminded her of Holt. Which reminded her of many other things.

“Did we … die?” she asked. “Did you save us, Zoey?”

“No.” Zoey reached forward and put something in Mira’s hand. “Someone else did.”

It was Ben’s brass dice cube. The sight of it, without him holding it, was jarring. She had never not seen him with the object. Mira felt her emotions begin to build.

“He wanted you to know he meant what he—”

“I know.” Mira nodded and wiped away the first of the tears. “I know.”

She looked to the south. There was destruction there, too—burning buildings, the wrecks of Assembly walkers—but it also had life. There was movement, figures slowly wandering the streets and gathering together.

In the far distance there was even more motion, just becoming visible. A mass of thousands of figures marching toward them, moving through the now-quiet battle zone. Each was flanked by two shining points of color.

The White Helix were arriving.

“Come with me,” Zoey said, holding out her hand. Mira took it and slowly rose. There was no pain, her limbs were no longer shattered.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“To
them.
I have something I need to do, before … before everything else.”

They walked through the ruins, all of it warped and twisted by Dark Matter Tornadoes that, already, in the sunlight, seemed like a foreign concept. “What does that mean, Zoey? Everything else?”

Zoey squeezed Mira’s hand tightly. “It means it isn’t over.”

45.
EVERYTHING

HOLT EYED HIS COT
and sleeping bag wantonly. He would sleep for a week if no one stopped him. The way his luck had been going, though, that didn’t seem likely.

He was inside one of the offices where the Menagerie had set up camp. They were small offices, still filled with the ruined possessions of their owners, all of them fused to one another and immoveable. The Strange Lands were gone, but the Artifacts remained. They still had their powers, even now. Holt wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

The office’s windows looked out on the streets of Bismarck, and for once they were empty. The White Helix had gone to bury Gideon. Holt wasn’t sure why Zoey couldn’t save him like the others. Maybe his death happened too far back in time to influence. Maybe she had her own reasons for not helping him. Either way, he was gone, and though the White Helix mourned, they were resolved. For what exactly, Holt couldn’t say.

Ambassador and the silver Assembly set up to the south, including several dozen green-and-orange Hunters and their artillery walkers. Holt wasn’t sure why they hadn’t been wiped away with the others, but they seemed cooperative at any rate. Still, everyone gave them a wide berth. They were Assembly, after all.

The office had a door, which was good. It made it private. Holt moved to shut it, wincing as he unbuttoned his shirt. Every part of him ached.

Ravan leaned against the door, smiling conspiratorially. Holt sighed. All he wanted to do was shut his eyes. “Ravan…”

“Just pretend I’m not here,” she said, studying his shirt.

“Not sure I’d sleep all that well with you staring at me,” Holt retorted. She hid it well, but Ravan was tired, too. Holt knew her well enough to see the signs. He knew when something was bothering her as well. It was the same as always. She wouldn’t talk about whatever it was unless he asked. “You okay?”

Ravan held his stare. “Not as good as you, surprisingly.”

“I think I’m too tired to be worried about much right now.”

“We were
dead,
Holt. Dead and gone, and that little girl of yours brought us back.”

Holt leaned against the door frame across from her. “You don’t sound all that thrilled. Would you prefer she hadn’t?”

“No,” Ravan said. “I’m just saying … it’s a pretty scary power to be able to tap into. There’s gotta be a price, messing with the order of things like that. Repercussions.”

Holt rubbed his eyes tiredly. “What’s your point, Ravan?”

“You care about her, I get it, but a power like that sets off red flags, and it should. If I were you, I’d be asking myself just what it is I’m traveling with.”

“She’s a ‘who,’ Ravan, not a ‘what,’” Holt said with intensity. “And I don’t just care about her, I trust her. She
saved
us.”

“Just pointing out something you might be too close to see,” she told him. “You used to value that.”

Holt frowned and looked away. Ravan wasn’t totally wrong. What Zoey had done … It didn’t seem possible. Controlling machines was one thing. Reversing time was quite another. If Zoey could do that, what else could she do? And did he want to find out?

“Thought anymore about Faust?” Ravan asked.

He shook his head. “I have to help Zoey, Ravan.”

“You’ll help her a lot better without the Menagerie hunting you down, and with Avril, it’s your best bet of changing things.”

“Yeah,” Holt replied. “Also my best bet for getting shot between the eyes.”