Chapter IV. The Dream Be Dead
IV
THE DREAM BE DEAD
“HE HURLED ME to the floor so hard the flagstones split.
“As Voss stalked slow toward me, I pawed the gore from my eyes, searching for some last desperate gambit.
Some impossible way out. I lay sprawled before that great stone bowl, Dior suspended on the wheel above it.
Her lashes were yet fluttering upon her cheeks, but though I whispered her name, pleading, she barely stirred.
“The great cathedral was a ruin as I said, circular like the Redeemer’s wheel.
Its diameter was so vast that its edges were lost in darkness, but around the circumference, by the faint light spilling through long-broken windows, I saw the remains of five stone bowls.
They were fashioned like the one I lay before now, equally spaced, broken into pieces.
I saw it was from these bowls that those dreadful rends in the earth began.
Cleaving the flagstones and walls apart, widening and deepening as they stretched outward through the city, splitting the plains beyond and unleashing those fumes into the sky.
“This was daysdeath. It had begun here, on this very ground.
“‘How?’
“I breathed the word, looking up at Voss through bloodshot eyes. He loomed above me now, bloodied knife in hand, smiling with awful fondness.
“‘How d-did you do it?’
“‘I would tell thee why? That ye may undo it? ’
“‘Y-you owe me, bastard.’
“He laughed then, fangs gleaming.
“‘All I owe thee shall be repaid tenfold. Ye understand not the gift thou art about to receive, my dear Gabriel. Every child I hath sired up to this moment hath been born of chance. A victim, that I might otherwise have scorned to endure eternity with. Thou shalt be the first Prince of Forever chosen by my will. My first begotten son.’
“‘Papa?’
“Voss looked to my daughter, still in Morgane’s clutches, red tears in her eyes.
“‘Patience, my love, my dove, my angel dear. Soon thou shalt have thy papa forever.’
“I tried to rise, he grabbed the back of my neck, smashed me face-first into the stone. Black stars burst in my eyes, my brow split to the bone as Patience cried out in fear. I was barely aware as Voss stalked away like a wolf aprowl, slinking around and behind Dior. The flogging she’d received had been with a flail of silver, and child of the Moonsthrone though she was, her body couldn’t heal those awful wounds.
She was groaning softly, rising toward consciousness but not yet arrived.
But her eyes finally fluttered open as Voss seized hold of her hair, pulling back her head.
“Her eyes met mine then, blurred and blinking, awful hope shining in that pale blue.
“‘P-Papa…’
“And without a word, Voss sliced her throat.
“I roared, trying desperately to rise, but with the speed of a stolen millennium, he was on me, planting his boot between my shoulderblades, pushing me down to the broken stone. I was forced to watch as Dior gasped, coughing red, filled with the same helplessness as the night he’d knocked on our door.
I bellowed her name as she struggled, bubbling, choking, that holy blood spilling down her chin and spattering into the bowl before me.
“Fabién watched, a triumphant smile upon his lips. And there he stood with me beneath his boot, statue still, watching Dior bleed. The knife he’d used was simple steel, and though the pain and fear must have been awful, Dior’s suffering was mercifully brief, the wound slowly stitching closed by the power of the Moonsthrone inside her.
“But by then, that bowl was brimming with her blood.
“Its perfume was terrible bliss—the beast in me roaring at the want of it. And as if in answer, Voss pinned my wrists at the small of my back, and lifting me like I was made of feathers, pushed my face into that flood of red.
“‘Drink. As we did.’
“I roared, trying to breathe, to lift my head.
But despite the danger it posed him, Voss held me down in that bowl of beautiful, awful crimson.
The thirst in me was a living thing, stronger than it had ever been, smashing itself against the bars in my mind.
Voss pressed down upon me, all his power, all his will, battering my defenses from without just as that monster crashed upon them from within.
“‘Drink,’ they demanded.
“‘DRINK.’
“I fought as best I was able. I fought with all I had. But like I’ve told you, coldblood, in the end, the only weapon in the war against yourself is yourself. And like the blade of starsteel yet hanging at my side, I’d been broken in two. So, much as it shames me now, I did as they commanded.
“I drank.
“Voss smiled in triumph when I was done, letting me slither to the stone. The power of the Redeemer’s blood gripped me, washing over me and smashing through me; not simply the hint I’d tasted from that mouthful in León, but a hurricane, a tempest, filling me to bursting.
My spine arched, mouth open in a silent scream, muscles stretched to breaking.
“‘Those priests of gods false and covenants broken, numbering all the fingers on hell’s burning hand did stand in bleak amazement.’
“Voss’s voice rang in that broken church, inside my broken mind, the walls of me collapsing, the whole of me unraveling. Thunder crashed in hidden skies above, stones trembling, dust falling, Patience screaming my name.
“‘And the Redeemer raised his eyes to his Almighty Father’s throne, and his heart did stain the bones of the earth, and with voice akin to thunder, he cried.’
“Every nerve on fire. Every drop of me aflame. I heard myself screaming, screaming as it filled me, the light of life, the fire of the heavenly forge, the essence of eternity itself. I felt the breath of God on the back of my neck. I felt the call of forever in my soul.
“‘BY THIS BLOOD SHALL HE HAVE LIFE ETERNAL! ’
“Silence fell.
“An emptiness one thousand years wide.
“I opened bloodshot eyes, looking to the King above me. He gazed down upon me like father to newborn, his smile full of bleak pride and terrible love.
“‘My son.’
“I drew one shaking breath.
“Looking upon he who’d be my maker.
“And I started laughing.
“Voss stared down at me, smile fading, a small frown marring his marble brow. And beaten and broken though I was, I rolled onto my side and continued to guffaw. All he’d given, all he’d sacrificed, all he’d lost to bring us here …
“‘No,’ he whispered.
“I was still breathing. Still living. My heart yet beating, my blood yet rushing hand in hand with hers, out, out through my burning veins. Voss looked to the brimming bowl, to Dior upon the wheel, his face twisting in absolute rage.
“‘No. NO!’
“Reaching up, he rent his collar, tearing that robe of white and gold at the throat. And though Forever’s King had once seemed a thing made of cold stone, a fury like thunder and flame was come upon him now.
He whirled about, eyes searching the shadows, bellowing again in shapeless fury.
And hurling that bloody knife across the shattered dais, arms spread wide, he screamed at the broken ground beneath him.
“‘Thou hast promised! Thou didst PROMISE me! ’
“He stamped his foot like a thwarted child, cracking the stone beneath him.
“‘All thou hast asked, I hath given! All thou hast whispered, hath I obeyed! Faithful and true hath I served thee, a thousand years and more! But by thy hand WAS I DOOMED TO FOREVER! AND I SHALL NOT SPEND IT ALONE!’
“Fabién’s roar echoed on those broken gables, those shattered walls. But as the echo faded, I heard more chuckling, venomous and soft.
“Turning, Voss looked upon his daughter.
“‘Morgane? ’ he breathed. ‘Ye dare? ’
“That daughter of forever stood in shadow, my own daughter yet pinned in her claws. But as Morgane looked upon her king, just as I’d seen the night we spoke in San Maximille, in her eyes I saw the hatred of poison centuries.
“‘See ye not? The prize thy service hath purchased? He hath deceived thee, Father.’
“‘No! I hath served him well and true! He promised me the gift! He swore it me! ’
“Morgane blinked, bewildered.
“‘He be the prince of lies. Why conjure thee, he should gift thee truth? ’
“Voss took one step forward, glowering.
“‘Ye know nothing of what ye speak, daughter mine.’
“But Morgane shook her head.
“‘I know ceaseless hath been thy labors to please thy emperor fallen. I know thou hast served him truer than any who hath e’er bent the knee. For look now upon this world he doth so despise, Father.’ Morgane gestured at the wasteland about us, a single bloody tear spilling down her cheek.
‘All light perished. All love lost. The Almighty’s greatest creation be ruined by thy hand.
The dream be dead. What need further, hath thy dark lord of thee? ’
“Morgane released her grip on Patience, stepping toward Fabién.
“‘Why would I not laugh, Father? When by the hand of hell’s bleak prince is Forever’s King a jester made? ’
“Voss drew back his hand.
“Morgane touched my mind.
“And punching clean through her chest, Fabién ripped out his daughter’s heart.
“Morgane had no time to scream, no time left at all; her body torn apart by the cold hands of time. Patience screamed instead, brittle and shrill, her terror echoing on the broken walls as Morgane’s body simply blew apart.
The thunder of her death rang on the walls, a blast of ash and char blackening Voss’s robes and skin.
And in the aftermath, a beautiful velvet gown and stole of fox fur drifted to the cold stone at Voss’s feet—all that remained of the Fifth Prince of Forever.
“But through the dust of Morgane’s ruin, a shadow fell then, like a spear hurled from heaven’s hand. A flash of crimson, a whistling blur, a blade of blood brought down so swift upon Fabién’s throat the ruptured marble of his skin cracked even further.
“Snarling, he was flung backward, boots skidding upon broken stone.
“Reaching up to his neck, he blinked at the single drop of red on his fingertips.
“Celene rose up from her crouch, leveling her bloody blade at his head.
“‘Judgment Comes.’”