Golden Page 17

  The clank of boots on steel echoed from the stairs. A figure stopped alongside Brendon’s body. His face was in shadow, until he looked up.

  Avo Hubik.

  He waved from the platform below with a demonic smile.

  Wes turned to run down the steps, to protect Brendon’s body, to take his revenge. Even if it meant losing his life, he’d risk it for the chance to strike back.

  “No,” Nat said. She must’ve known what was in his thoughts. “Wes, it’s—”

  “Too late. I don’t care,” he said and once more moved toward Avo. That heavy feeling in his stomach was growing, weighing him down. Sorrow hung above him like a great cloud, threatening to obscure everything around him. He needed to do something, now.

  “Yes, you do care,” she said. Nat put herself between Wes and the stairs. “You know this isn’t the way, this isn’t how we win.”

  He listened, and somehow he knew she was right. There was another way, another path. Avo would have his time, but this was not it. He’d come back for the drau. For now, he had to get Nat inside the tower.

  Without saying anything, Wes relented; he turned and faced the open doorway and the mist. This was his task. He was meant to do this so Nat could cast the spell.

  Wes pressed his hands against the mist. It was like brick, it was immovable.

  “Can you hold back Avo?” he asked Nat, his words heavy with grief.

  “I’ll do my best,” Nat said. Her voice was quiet, and she faced Avo boldly.

  A moment later, a great crunching sound shot through the stairway, the sound of steel ripping and concrete shattering. It made his ears ring and he nearly lost balance when the building trembled. He glanced back at Nat and saw her silhouette bathed in flame. She must have poured all of her grief into a single attack, a white-hot rush of flame that had torn through the side of the building, rending steel and stone. She’d bought Wes the time he needed.

  Turning to face the open door, he stabbed his fingers into the mist and pushed against it. He forced both arms into the gray cloud and entered. Immediately, the toxic haze assaulted his senses. The vapor reeked of copper and aluminum, a sickly tang that made his eyes water and his throat burn. The mist was more than a barrier—it was poison. Linger too long and it would consume him, burning him from within as he inhaled it. He took one step, then another. Soon the gray haze was all around him.

  Hurry, he thought. Hurry, before something happens to Nat, hurry before you’re too weak to fight the magic. Eliza had once come to this place. She had stood at this door and tried to dispel the magic within. She’d come here and failed. The significance was not lost on him. Eliza had always been the one with the gifts, the kid with all the power. If she had failed, how could he succeed?

  Shut up, he told himself. Shut up and focus. There was no time to worry.

  While he’d deliberated, the sickly haze had curled around his fingers and arms, drifting into his mouth and nose. He felt something warm at his back. Nat.

  “Avo?” he asked.

  “I’ve bought us some time,” she said, her back pressing against his. He felt her shudder when the mist enveloped her.

  “What’s happening?” she asked.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “Just hold on. I’m dealing with it.”

  He hoped he could deal with it. Wes again focused on the mist. Eliza must have fled; she must have run down the steps to avoid the poison, to keep it from saturating her every pore. Wes would not run—it was too late for that. He pressed deeper into the gray haze, pulling Nat alongside him.

  You are nothing. He inhaled.

  An illusion.

  A trick of the light.

  A test.

  You will bend to me.

  And open to my will.

  The mist burned in his lungs. He felt it in his eyes.

  Would it blind him?

  “Wes!” Nat called through the gray. Her back pressed a little harder against his, the dull beating of her heart thudding against his skin. For a moment he worried the beat was slowing.

  Bend. Begone.

  I am the master here.

  He breathed in the mist and understood that it was only an illusion. A trick. Like the ones Eliza had made as a child.

  Wes had always known how to dispel illusions.

  He yelled curses as he threw his strength against the mist.

  They quarreled. His magic against the tower’s.

  The contest was a rout.

  The haze shattered into pieces.

  In one great exhalation it flew from the chamber, vanishing like a breath of steam.

  It was done, the barrier shattered. They were in.

  Wes pushed Nat inside the room.

  “Wait!” she cried.

  He shook his head. This was it. This was good-bye. This was the last time they would see each other. He knew it in his heart.

  “Wes!”

  “Good-bye, Nat,” he said, and slammed the door behind her. When he turned around, he was ready to face his enemy and meet his death.

  33

  THE IMAGE OF BRENDON CRUMPLING TO the ground lingered in her thoughts. It followed her like a shadow. Nat could see the red spot spreading across the floor, and the smell of blood soiled her nose. She had wanted to bring the whole stairway down upon Avo, maybe even the whole building, but the mist had gotten into her eyes and her mouth, distracting her as Avo slipped away. She’d have gone after him if Wes hadn’t pushed her into the tower before ducking back to deal with Avo.

  “Wes!” she cried out but he was already gone, behind the door that had sealed shut.

  “Good-bye, Nat.”

  “NO!”

  But it was too late. He had closed the door. She was inside and he was on the other side of it.

  But where was she? What was this?

  What was that noise?

  The sound of coins striking a metal tray echoed in the distance. She heard the spinning, twirling sound of a wheel, the unmistakable ring of slot machines, and the cry of a dealer calling out, “Blackjack!” The room was still dark, but now she saw twinkling lights slowly coming into focus. A buzzer rang out, the sound of dice rattling in a cup. There were shouts, too. The sound of gunfire and men yelling out orders.

  I am in New Vegas. It didn’t make any sense.

  Somehow, she was back in the casino in New Vegas. Except everything was different. Chaos reigned. People were looting outside, stealing from the casinos, darkness inside and out.

  “What happened?” she asked.

  “The RSA is gone,” said a dealer. “They sent all their soldiers to some distant battle in the East.”

  Why was she here?

  Where was the Archimedes Palimpsest?

  Why did the Gray Tower send her here?

  A girl slammed into Nat, nearly knocking her to the ground. Nat stood, spun in a circle, taking in the scene. People were grabbing up piles of casino chips and knocking over slot machines, trying to get at the coins inside. Security had fled the room, and the pit bosses were nowhere to be seen. A few dealers huddled in the distance.

  Past the chaos and the looting, through broken windows, she caught sight of the place where a glass bridge had once connected this casino to another. The bridge was gone; there was nothing but air between the towers.

  The scroll is in that other tower, she knew.

  But how would she get there? Below, the street teemed with rioters, with gunshots and men wielding clubs. There was blood on the ground and bodies. The lower floors of the other tower were wreathed in flames. Soon there would be little left of the tower, just another burned-out skeleton. Time to act. But how? How do I reach the other tower?

  She stood at the window, staring at the gap between the buildings, at the place where the bridge had once stood.

  She must take a leap of
faith. The same one that she failed on her journey to Apis. She knew what to do. The knowledge was in her, had always been in her. Only now it had come to her like some long-lost relic unearthed along a familiar path.

  Nat stared down at the teeming crowd below. Like ants they twisted and scattered, swarming over the streets. She hesitated, then remembered the words of her teacher, of Faix, who had sent her on this quest, to fix what had been broken. The memory came to her like a beacon in the dark, appearing in her thoughts just as she needed it.

  One last test.

  She walked to the edge of the window and stepped out into the air, her foot dangling above the nothingness. She had been here before—she wasn’t scared. The wind blew in her face, the night was cold, and she embraced it. She gathered the air, harnessing its strength, forging the mighty wind into a new and solid form.

  She reached out with her toe and touched a solid mass. She looked down. Funnels of air swirled beneath her, forming hazy towers of air. She had created a bridge out of ether. Something from nothing.

  She ran across, sprinting through the sky. What a glorious sight it must have been: a girl dashing through the air as whirlwinds met her every footfall. The sky itself obeyed her commands. It whipped at her feet and at her back, the wind roaring at her like some petulant child, upset that she had forced it to bend to her will. She made one leap after another, carrying herself to the next building.

  There was no door into the next tower, so she made one.

  She made the glass bend and shatter, tearing a great hole in the wall. She leapt through the opening, towers of air escorting her, landing her smoothly on the floor in the casino.

  In the middle of the room, a vid screen flashed on a jackpot machine.

  Was this it?

  It had to be.

  She reached out toward the flashing light and everything disappeared.

  34

  WES TURNED TO AVO AS THE DOOR TO THE tower shut with a bang. “What up, icehole,” he greeted.

  “Open the door,” Avo said. “Let me in.”

  “Yeah, right. Maybe I can give you the scroll, too.”

  “Keep joking, Wesson,” said Avo. He sounded smug, overly confident, as if he knew something Wes did not. “Show him.”

  Two soldiers brought out Shakes and Liannan, captured and chained. The distraction had worked, except for the escape plan.

  “Open the door.”

  “Don’t!” said Liannan.

  Shakes bowed his head. “Well, boss, I guess this is good-bye.”

  Wes scratched his chin. He wasn’t done—not yet. I won’t let it end like this. His back was against the door, which was cold and solid. There was no way Avo could get past it. Without the key and without Wes to part the mist, he would never be able to enter the room.

  “Open the door and do your thing,” Avo said, his voice raised. He was shaking. His hands were wet with perspiration. The stairs beneath him let loose a long moan, threatening to collapse.

  “Careful, or this whole place will fall down and then you’ll never get through.”

  “Doubt if you’d let that happen,” Avo said, cocking the gun and holding it to Shakes’s temple.

  Would he do it?

  Wes met his gaze. Avo grinned.

  The drau was dead serious. He’d pull the trigger if Wes resisted. He’d shoot Shakes and Liannan, too.

  “Open it!” Avo said, his finger itching. “I don’t bluff. You know that, Wesson.”

  Wes knew as much. Avo had tried to kill him at least once, maybe twice. His past was all a blur.

  “If I open that door, you’ll still shoot,” Wes said, thinking aloud, letting Avo know that he understood what was about to happen. His friends’ futures were already written. Wes saw that. In these last moments he knew how everything would go down.

  Avo’s trigger finger tensed, and Wes lunged for the weapon. He couldn’t let it end like this. I won’t stand and watch my friends die.

  His hand wrapped the barrel of the gun. Avo didn’t hesitate. The weapon discharged, but the bullet went wide, striking a wall. The flash of the barrel blinded Wes, and the sound made his ears ring.

  It all happened in the space of a breath: Avo tumbled to the floor, Wes on top of him, while Shakes struggled against the soldiers who held him. Avo still held the gun. He used it as a cudgel. He pounded the grip against Wes’s skull, hit him twice, then took aim at Shakes. Wes was still on top and when he saw Avo aim the gun, he put his fist over the barrel, as if his own flesh would somehow stop the bullet. Something about the gesture made Avo pause, and when he did, Wes tore the gun from Avo’s grip, tossing it to the floor.

  I can do this, thought Wes. I can still save everyone. He knocked Avo twice on the jaw, hard enough to stun him, to leave him shaking and dizzy. Wes stood. Now he had to deal with the others.

  This will work, he thought, but too late, he heard another shot ring out. It wasn’t Avo; his gun lay on the floor.

  There was another soldier with another gun.

  A second shot rang like thunder in the shaft, the muzzle fire flashing like a bolt of lightning in the dark. There was blood on the stairs and Shakes lay lifeless at Avo’s feet.

  No! He lunged for the fallen body. But what could he do? The bullet had already ended him.

  When the body had hit the stairs, it made a thud that Wes would never forget.

  It folded like wet clay.

  Liannan’s mouth was open in grief, but her grief was beyond sound.

  Avo brushed the dirt from his uniform and retrieved his lost pistol. He cocked the trigger and aimed.

  Wes spied something heavy on the ground, a piece of metal attached to some glass, still burning from Nat’s flame. He flung it at Avo, then threw himself at the nearest soldier. He never touched the man. The third soldier hit Wes on the head with something heavy. Wes stumbled backward, momentarily distracted, his vision blurry. He shook his head and cleared his vision. Startling the soldier beside him, Wes struck the man in the chest with a pair of swift blows. Then he turned and knocked the gun out of the hand of the other soldier. He moved so quickly there was no time for thought. He was just reacting, doing what he needed to do to save his friend. But it wasn’t enough. There was nothing he could do to win.

  Wes caught sight of the drau, one hand wrapped around Liannan’s neck, the gun put to her head.

  “You know what’ll happen next,” Avo said. Even the drau sounded disgusted. This was dirty business. All of this was wrong.

  “Let her go,” Wes said. “It’s not worth it, Avo.” Wes’s voice was quiet. He was saving his energy, buying time. He knew what would come next, but he still couldn’t accept it. He had to keep trying. Maybe there was some magic that could bring back Shakes. He told himself to keep trying, that there was always another way.

  Wes found something hard, a piece of fractured concrete, a bit of the wall that had come loose.

  He hurled it at Avo’s skull.

  A shot rang out at the same time. The rock struck the drau just as the bullet left the chamber. Avo yelled.

  But the shot had already been fired.

  The target hit.

  Liannan crumpled to the ground next to Shakes.

  The two of them together, motionless. Forever.

  Wes’s stomach sank to his knees, his entire body shivering, his brain not believing what his eyes showed him. He knew this was the end, but the sight of it hurt more than any bullet.

  There is another way, he told himself. Enter the tower, part the gray mist, find the scroll. There is another way, he told himself again and again, to make the pain go away. It was the only way he could keep going. We’ll fix this. In the end we’ll fix everything. But even he didn’t believe that. There was hardly anyone left to do any fixing.

  Farouk. Roark. Eliza. Brendon. Shakes. Liannan.

  I’m next
.

  “Open the door. Or it’s your turn,” Avo said, bleeding from where the rock had struck him, picking up the gun, aiming it at Wes.

  “I’m not afraid of death,” said Wes. He hurt so much he could barely talk. His head was pounding, thudding like a hundred hammers. But he was lying. I am afraid, he thought. Mostly he was afraid of Nat dying.

  There were three of them and only one of him.

  The building shook, and a distant sound echoed through the holes in the walls.

  “Open the door, Wesson. There is no sense in fighting. You are unarmed and outmanned.”

  Wes shook his head. He’d never open that door.

  The look on his face must have been easy to read. Avo’s grin flattened and he gritted his teeth. “We both know you are going to die, but if you open that door I’ll do it quickly, a bullet to the head and it’ll be over. Otherwise, we’ll take our time with you. After a day or two you’ll beg us to let you open that door.”

  Wes didn’t listen. The words didn’t register. He would never let Avo pass through the door. “Why? If you knew what you were, why?” Wes asked. “Why did you slaughter your own kind?”

  “Why not? One hundred and eleven years I’ve lived on the gray side. Cast out, abandoned.”

  “Your mother did it to save you.”

  “My mother is a whore.”

  “Your words, not mine,” said Wes. “Though it does give me an idea. I hadn’t thought of it until now, but the two of you are a lot alike.”

  “Spare me your observations, Wesson.”

  “Well, I was there when she passed. I saw the way she lived and the way she died.”

  “The Queen is dead?” he asked. Avo almost sounded as like he had a heart. “Good. I’m glad someone ended it.”

  “I ended it,” said Wes. “I was the one who broke her, just as I’m the one who’ll break you.”

  “Well, you’re half right, Wesson.”

  A far-off sound drifted through a crack in the wall, the sound of beating wings coming closer. The floor beneath him rattled, the dust stirring on the floor. What’s happening?