43. APOSTATE #2
“Is this some misguided attempt at reclaiming your heritage?” Akkani asked. “The cult of Naxal? Trust me, Jacen, you may think you understand the Zal religion, but you do not. You have no idea the horrors you could unleash.”
Jacen laughed. He couldn’t help it. “Three of the gods are dead. I think I know exactly what we’ve unleashed.”
“Are you familiar with the concept of an empire? A hierarchy? Killing six individuals will not defeat the Firstborn Empire, but it may just invite them to our doorstep.” Akkani’s face remained impassive.
“You know, by now, that there are no true gods, only capricious creatures who might as well be. There is no hope, Jacen. No greater purpose to any of this. All we can do is preserve what little peace we have, do whatever we must so they will not destroy us. Because all that awaits is nothingness.” Her voice wavered on that final word.
“I do not wish this knowledge on anyone.”
She turned to Neri again. “I am so sorry the sacrifice must be yours. But I will not protect you from them. For the sake of this world, I cannot.”
The boy’s face had gone grey.
Akkani sighed again. “Now. What to do? I suspect you’ve barricaded the communications center because you’ve called a transport, and you want to ensure that no one alerts the orbital station.
You’ve drawn all eyes to Otavok to distract from what you’re doing here.
Tharanoth and Ileth won’t come to you, so you plan to go to them.
” She nodded to herself. “You’ll have brought a small team to avoid detection, no more than will fit on a single transport. ”
She took a metal tablet from her robes, not unlike the one the First-born commander had tried to use before Jacen killed him. A communication device. She held it so awkwardly, it might have been almost funny if she hadn’t spoken into it.
“They’re at Zal Fel. Move now. Use every key.”
Then she told Jacen what he already knew. “The Church’s finest inquisitors will be here shortly.”
“You’re bluffing,” Jacen said, because he had to be certain. “I saw your legion in the ruins. They weren’t mobilized. They’re too far to get here in time.”
“There is a Gate in the White Cathedral,” Akkani said grimly. “You have minutes. By the time your transport arrives, you’ll be long dead.” Red light glowed around Neri’s hands. The stacked crates rattled, but Akkani was unimpressed. “Have you ever fought a telepathic warrior, boy?”
“Yes,” Neri said fiercely. “How many at once?” No answer.
“You will not survive,” Akkani said plainly.
“Should you try to destroy me now, there’s little I alone could do to stop you.
But I would put up enough of a fight to throw off your control.
I think you lack the precision to avoid killing your uncle, at the very least.” She stepped closer to Seth, sweeping a hand across their cramped quarters to make her point.
“I’d prefer to avoid such bloodshed, and so I’m giving you one last chance to surrender. ”
The light in Neri’s hands faded. He looked to Jacen again, desperate for a solution.
Jacen’s fingers curled inside his robe, around a small metal cube—the one he’d taken from Ogden’s corpse. The one he’d told himself he would not use, that could destroy the White Cathedral before anyone made it through the Gate.
He was desperate not to use it, enough that he continued trying to argue with Akkani. “You’d let our people see this place?”
“The technology in this fortress isn’t terribly different from Zivora’s, and sensitive areas are being cordoned off as we speak.
Besides, when most people see something they do not understand, they tell themselves whatever they must to reconcile it with their existing worldview.
Either that, or they break.” The Holy Mother’s voice was almost pitying.
“Look at yourself, Jacen. You are not well. And how many different ways are you splitting your focus?” She gestured at Seth.
“Whatever drugs you’ve given him won’t last forever. One last chance. Surrender.”
“The Firstborn rely on our cooperation,” Jacen gritted out. “If you refuse to help them by bringing your people here, they won’t win.”
“Listen to me,” said Akkani. “If I refuse to help them—if they find out I failed them, at a time such as this—they have the means to eradicate our civilization from orbit.” She glanced at Seth. She must have known Turil couldn’t hear her, but Jacen felt her fear all the same.
“We can stop them,” he said, though he knew it was in vain. “Please.”
Don’t make me do this.
The Holy Mother said nothing. Jacen understood, now, why she had always relied on fear so heavily as a weapon. It was all she had.
She would not let go of it today.
Jacen took the cube from his pocket. His hand shook as he showed it to her, and Neri’s eyes went wide.
No half measures.
Some part of him wanted Akkani to have known about this, to have already taken steps to prevent it. But worry lined her brow.
“What is that?”
“Call them off,” Jacen said. “Call your inquisitors off, now, or I destroy the Cathedral and everyone in it.”
Ged’s team might still be there. Along with everything else, he risked killing his own allies. But they hadn’t planned to leave the immediate vicinity of the Gate. They stood a chance, and Ysira would survive regardless.
As for everyone else within those walls . . .
“You wouldn’t,” Akkani whispered. “There are thousands of citizens there, searching for refuge after the coup you helped facilitate. There are children. You’ve thrown away your own life for this, but can you throw away theirs? Is this truly where you’d place your faith?”
There was real panic in her voice. But when Jacen tried to move, his body refused to obey. He tripped, knees scraping painfully against the rough stone floor. He nearly dropped the trigger.
“You’ve no idea how much it pained me to hurt you,” Akkani said. “But I will do it again if that’s what it takes to keep this world safe from you.”
Jacen squeezed his eyes shut, every muscle in his body clenched tight. Her mind slammed into his, a hammer against a nail driving him deep inside himself. He threw up walls, cocooning himself like a kirikil in the midday sun.
Did he have the faith required to use the trigger? Did he believe that Naxal—that Neri—would be enough to make such a sacrifice worthwhile?
Jacen sensed Neri’s presence behind Akkani, watching, helpless.
He would not risk destroying his allies, let alone Seth.
Here and now, only Jacen could stop this. All it would cost was his soul.
He thought of Elyas, and of Nines, and all the others like them.
His own cohort, of which so few had survived to adulthood.
The acolytes who’d helped them escape Zivora.
Every stolen name on that ledger in the archives, all those innocents who had not yet been ground down to nothing, who thus might be far more capable than Jacen of healing this world and building a better future.
For what did Jacen know of healing? He had been forged into an exemplary instrument, raised to sacrifice and destroy. Akkani was right. She had shaped him for this, and he knew what he had to do.
No matter what this victory cost, it would be just one more thing to mourn atop a mountain of corpses. Any sacrifice, anything at all, was such a small thing—such a petty thing to refuse to give, in the face of what was already lost.
Jacen looked up, even as a sob broke from his chest. He met her eyes. And Akkani flinched.
He pushed back against the vicious onslaught of her presence, pushed back the terror. He dredged up every ounce of willpower he possessed, every scrap of his ability, resolve hardened to a diamond’s edge. He hurled it against her. He stood.
In reliving this moment, later, he would think it must have been longer. But he had seconds to decide. Akkani rallied against him. Any longer and she’d have overpowered him again. He jammed his thumb into the center of the cube, and a segment gave way.
Several seconds passed in excruciating silence. And then—