Darkening Chaos: Book Three of The Destroyer Trilogy (48 page)

I
bat away a lunging Guardian with a small effort as he tries to sink his knife
into my thigh. The way his head rebounds off the ground with a squishing sound
barely registers with me as I search out Braden. The link between us practically
pulls me to him. I catch sight of him right as an unearthly howl rips through
the air, stopping everyone, friend and enemy alike, dead in their tracks.

I
expect panic from my side. Relief from the Guardians. It is almost unsettling
to see the exact opposite happen. I don’t even understand it at first. The
Guardians should be thrilled to see their main enforcers rallying behind them.
Instead they cower, some even running from the field. It makes no sense until
the first Dorotabos crashes into view and rips a Guardian in his way into two
uneven pieces and tosses them to the side. I honestly would have thrown up
right there if my body hadn’t been frozen in place right down to my toes.

They
can’t control them, I realize. The Guardians poured a whole mess of raw,
unwieldy power into their creations and simply let them loose. The heat seems
to slither out of my body. I thought the link the Spiritualists had to maintain
would keep them in check, direct them. I see just how wrong I was, but the
reminder of these monsters’ handlers brings me back to life.

That’s
when I realize why my side got so excited at the sound of the Dorotabos. I
continue my sprint toward Braden as Spiritualism saturates the air around me. Milo
feels it too and his eyes widen. “Spiritualism? Libby, stop them. It won’t
work! Don’t let them do it!”

“What?”

More
Dorotabos crash into the crowd of combatants and everyone on the outskirts of
the battle start running in earnest, cutting off whatever Milo might have said
in answer. I lose sight of him in the rush. My team is already on their way to
the main body of combatants. Focused more on finding the Spiritualists than the
battle, the panicked Guardians wantonly attack them as they run. Half a dozen
fall in mere seconds. A stray thought I had been playing with over the last
couple of weeks captures my mind and I reach for my own Spiritualism. I hold it
only long enough to form it into thousands of different conduits before
flinging it away from me.

It
was just the beginning of an idea I’d had while lying in bed, trying to not
move too much after one of my sessions with Milo. I had wanted to talk to
Braden, hear his voice, and I wondered if I could talk to him through my
Spiritualism. Something like using it to manipulate people. He was way too far
away, but it seemed like a plausible idea. I test it now.

I
can’t target only my people, it is too fast and chaotic to even try, so I just
send my Spiritualism out and thrust it into every mind I can reach. I scream
out a simple and direct command.

“Focus!
Regroup on me!”

Everyone,
even the Guardians, spin toward my position and closes in behind me. Thousands of
people flock into the center of the Great Lawn. I hadn’t expected it to work so
well. When I let go of my power, the Guardians look stunned, but most of them
stay where they are, apparently recognizing joining the enemy as preferable to
being torn in half. I cry out in panic when a hand wraps around my waist and
jerks me backward. My talents and fists come up in defense, but Braden’s face
mashing up against mine in a desperate kiss melts away the battle, the fear,
everything but the feel of his body pressing up against me. It lasts only a
second before he pulls back and his harried expression returns.

“Are
you okay?” he asks as he spins me around to face the oncoming horde of
Dorotabos.

After
finally getting to kiss the man I love in the flesh for the first time in
almost nine months? I am fabulous. I want more than anything in this moment to
forget the entire screwed up world and drag him back to my bedroom. If wishes
were horses, and all that. I force myself to focus, and say simply, “I’m fine.
How’s your neck?”

Braden
snorts at the stupidity of this conversation, saying, “Perfect. I fixed the
rest of it. Not even a scar.”

I
almost miss the importance of what he just said when I spot Milo hurrying
toward me. I laugh at the purple splotch on his right cheek. Celia must have
opted for hitting rather than hugging. But where is she? I expected to see her
right behind him. Probably off somewhere healing wounds and applying bandages
if I know her.

Lance,
Hope, Dean, and the others crowd around me. I start to ask if they’ve seen Celia,
but Lance breaks in, asking if the Spiritualists in our group are ready to try
breaking the link to the Dorotabos. I start to answer when Braden catches sight
of Milo. He moves so fast, I hear the crack of his fist on Milo’s jaw a full
second after it connects. I freeze in shock as they go tumbling to the ground in
a mess of whirling fists.

A
very small part of my mind reminds me that I should stop Braden. He could accidentally
kill Milo with his new power. Or he could kill him fully aware of what he is
doing. I don’t move to stop him, though. I don’t know what thoughts are rolling
through anyone else’s mind, but mine is jammed packed with the screaming,
taunting, and the pain of months’ worth of brutal beatings. His stepping
between me and Howe can’t scratch past tortures. I watch, numb to Milo’s pain,
for a few seconds longer until thoughts of Celia resurface. I am suddenly glad
she hasn’t arrived yet. She knows what Milo has done to me. She wouldn’t deny
me my vengeance, but I can almost hear the plea to spare her brother’s life through
the battle.

“Braden,”
I whisper. There is noise everywhere. Battle sounds rage around us, but I don’t
need to speak for him to hear me. His arm stops, cocked back and ready to be
let loose. Blood drips down from his shaking knuckles. Slowly his hand lowers,
and I start to sigh in relief until I see his fingers close around the grip of
his Guardian blade. It flicks from its sheath right to Milo’s neck. I gasp and
hold my breath.

“I
promised him,” Braden says. “I told him it would be my blade that took his
life.”

“I
know.” My eyes slip from the knife to Milo’s face. What parts of his expression
aren’t pounded into mottled bruises and blood sag in guilt. My next words
aren’t to Braden, but to Milo. “You said Spiritualism won’t work. Why?”

It’s
a test, and he clearly recognizes that. For his sake, I hope he chooses the
right answer.

“It’s
just like the link they used to trap the Ciphers. It can only be broken by
death,” Milo responds. “And trying will most likely kill your people for the
effort.”

Fear
sinks deep into my chest. I can’t kill them all unless I break the link first,
and I may kill myself trying. I have more power than anyone else on Earth will
ever have, but there are thousands of Dorotabos about to converge on me.

“He’s
lying,” Braden snarls. “He’s only trying to mislead you so his buddies can rip
us all to pieces.”

I
meet Braden’s eyes and say, “If he is, I’ll know in a minute.” I don’t add that
if he is lying, I’ll stand aside and let Braden do whatever the hell he wants
to Milo. By the looks on everyone’s faces, they all understand that is a given.

Closing
my eyes, I remember what my dad said about my Vision, how I took all the
Ciphers Vision so I could protect them. If there was ever a time I needed to
protect them, it would be now. I tap my Vision and wait for it to respond. It
doesn’t come right away, but I force myself to be patient. I have so much power
backing this talent now that I know it will come and do exactly as I tell it
for once. The Dorotabos are stomping through stragglers in their effort to
reach me, but I turn my head just enough to catch Braden when I remember his
earlier words and let them sink in. “What did you say about your neck? How did
you fix it? You don’t have Naturalism.”

“No,
but you do.”

“What?”

He
just grins, still pinning Milo to the ground, and gestures in front of me.
“Twenty yards and closing. What are you doing?”

Rather
than answer, I stagger under the shock of my Vision suddenly lurching to life.

I
see myself clap my hands together, sending a sonic blast powerful enough to
stagger the Dorotabos out in front of me. It’s not enough to stop them, but it
is enough to disorient them in order to make breaking their links to the
Spiritualists much easier. My teams’ Spiritualism follows close on the heels of
my blast. I hold my own power back, knowing I will need it in a few seconds.
Even without joining my army, I can feel their power rushing past me and into
our enemies. It halts for a brief second as they search out the link, then, rushes
off behind them in pursuit of the Spiritualists.  

I
can barely hold my excitement in as I wait for the burst of energy that will
signal that the link has been broken. The tidal wave of Spiritualism clashes
with the Spiritualists … and rebounds back to the ones who cast it. I am
spared, but the faces of my friends distort in horror as the massive amount of
power rips through them, tearing out their spirits and leaving their bodies
lifeless on the ground. My own body slumps to the ground, the vision
dissipating at the same moment.

“It
won’t work!” I say through trembling lips.

Panic
ripples through the expressions of everyone around us. A Dorotabos coming in
from the side leaps into the air, the very earth erupting around him as he
lands. Chunks of rock and dirt slam into the right flank. Others are right on
his heels with the main contingent about to steamroll right over me.

“Milo
was right!” I say through gritted teeth, my focus on the horde.

“There’s
no way to break it?” Braden asks, fear thick in his voice.

No,
no, no. My thoughts race in panic. There’s always a way.

Before
I can even begin to form an idea, Celia’s panicked voice calling out from the
fray scatters everything. My eyes dart through the masses of people and
Dorotabos until they land on her trying to drag a half conscious, bleeding
Kayla through the battle. My first thought is to run for her. Before my body
can react to the idea, Braden is holding me back.

“Don’t
even think about it,” he commands.

“But
…”

He’s
sprinting away from me before I can say anything else. Milo screams and
struggles in Lance’s grip, desperate to follow, but I have no thought to spare
for him. I can’t even describe the deluge of fear and pride I feel at watching
Braden race into the chaos of death around us. I want so badly to help him, to
keep my eyes glued to his body until he is safely back at my side, but the Dorotabos
frontrunners are piercing my group with fatality.

Forcing
Braden out of my thoughts is torture, but if I have any hoping of winning I
have to come up with something, right now. I think, and pray, and beg my brain
to spit something out no matter how impossible it might seem.

My
plea sparks a thought.

The
Serqet, breaking a Guardian promise, reuniting Companions and giving back
talents. Everyone said those were impossible, but I did it anyway. This can’t
be any different. I have to break the link. I have to, or we’re all dead.

Logic
always tries to take a leave of absence in situations like this, but somehow I
manage to cinch mine to my mind and force it to work. I killed Saia’s Sihir
with brute force, suffocating her with Spiritualism until she burst. That won’t
work here. The backlash would kill us all. It would be suicide. I refocus, and
find my answer as remembered words of a friend and betrayer filter back into my
thoughts.

Thank
you, Mr. Walters.

I
let my eyes flick back to Braden, more frantic than ever to get him back. The
last Guardian falls at his feet and he shoves Celia forward. Limping, she runs
back to her screaming brother who is finally released to embrace her. Braden is
close behind, lugging the injured Kayla along with him. His only focus is on
reaching me. So focused, he doesn’t see the Dorotabos slicing through
bystanders to get to him.

My
eyes widen as I scream at him. His own head whips around, his steps tangling as
he sees the monstrosity barreling toward him. Nothing Lance can do will stop me
from reaching him … or so I think. Just as I am about to sprint to Braden’s
rescue, Lance yanks my attention to the left flank.  Panic spirals from my army
where a mass of Dorotabos have broken through. My eyes swing back to Braden in panic.
The Dorotabos leaps at his back. Braden barely outdistances him. His Speed is
flagging. He has already fought so much. Unless he abandons Kayla, he won’t
escape a second attempt.

“Libby,
they can’t hold the Dorotabos back! You have to stop them,” Lance’s panicked
voice screams at me as he runs toward the crumbling left flank. Lance and
dozens of others fight a losing battle as I stand frozen. Tears spring to my
eyes as I know I have to send my talents along with Lance and not to Braden. My
power gathers as I begin to turn away, hating myself for my decision, hating
that I have to make such a choice.

A
strangely quiet voice is suddenly right next to my ear. “Libby,” it whispers,
“I’m so sorry for everything.”

Turning
toward the sound, I’m shocked to find Milo. His remorseful expression stares
back at me for a spilt second before turning away and tapping his Speed. I hear
Celia cry out as we both realize what he is about to do. Gratitude for his
attempt at redemption, doubt that it will work, and hope that he’ll make it in
time, all fill my heart and mind as I turn away and blast my energy toward the
Dorotabos infecting my ranks. Bolt after bolt, I call down pinpoints of
atmospheric lightening to blast back the terrible creations. I can’t kill them
yet, but I throw them far enough back that my followers have time to regroup.