Chapter 18 #3
“Ask, babe. If it’s in my power to grant it, I will. If not, I’ll find a way and grant it anyway.”
She smiled. “My hero.”
He chuckled, tightening his arms.
“Twister’s wife, Sadie, and Easy’s wife. How much do they know?”
“Everything,” he said.
She nodded. “Good.”
Thirty minutes later, she stood in the library with the two women who hadn’t even blinked at the slip corridor travel. All Sadie had said was, “Take me to him.”
When Flash brought them into the library, Twister stopped moving, blinking. “Sadie,” he whispered, his voice a plea. She rushed to him as his face contorted, wrapping her arms around him.
Easy grinned, and Astraea tilted her head, moving toward him. “I heard you’ve been getting into some trouble, Matty.”
“You know me, babe. I’m easy until I’m not.”
When she reached him, she cupped his jaw. “That’s my man.”
Fly watched the whole exchange.
Lechuza said, “We could get your M&M—”
“No. My grandmother doesn’t know anything about this, and I prefer she never know. Peace is what I can give her now,” Fly said. After Twister and Easy left, Fly pushed away from the doorjamb. “But I appreciate it. That was thoughtful, Killa. Fucking, goddamn thoughtful.”
“Hey,” Flash said. “How do you know it wasn’t my idea?”
Fly raised his brows and shook his head, then left.
“I think I’m insulted.”
“Aw, babe, you helped.”
“Yeah, I was pretty much the travel agent,” Flash groused.
* * *
North followed the direction Thera had pointed him in, wondering about the strangeness of this welcome-to-the-Veil emissary. He shrugged it off. He wasn’t here to understand the mystery of the Veil inhabitants. He was here to do recon.
As he walked, everything changed. The sickly green was still there, but he walked a dirt road, and in the distance was a huge castle. Exactly the kind of over-decorated rock pile you'd expect from the self-styled end of all order. Fly hadn’t been wrong about his ego.
He continued moving. The closer he got, the more interesting the landscape. Golden threads stretched across impossible distances, geometry hanging in the air. Chains made of light, and stone that hummed. He bet the math chapped Chaos’s ass. His very target held him prisoner.
He looked around, then up. Displacement wasn’t so bad. He could fly, sort of as he left the suspect ground and headed for the high point. He wasn’t hungry, thirsty, cold, or hot. He deposited himself behind some heavy rocks with a perfect view below.
The position gave him clear sightlines to the castle and the strange structures surrounding it. Whatever the prison was, it wasn't natural. The geometry shifted without moving. The chains vibrated without sound. Every instinct he possessed told him something enormous was being restrained there.
His team needed intel.
The static of Chaos, surging from the shattered outer perimeter, choked his thoughts. He could feel the golden thread tied to his soul, but the violence of Null ripping him away had frayed the connection. He was trapped in a cosmic dead zone.
North leaned back against the rock and folded his legs. The chant he'd used to become the herd started in his chest. He reached for Fly. Then, the static cleared, something infinitely older forcing order onto the space.
Aurelion manifested beside him. The Guardian, with his aura of unshakable, timeless weight, looked at North's translucent soul, his eyes tracking the thin, vibrating line of golden light trailing off into the dark toward Kaypacha.
Aurelion nodded, reaching out with a hand made of ancient cosmic laws and grasping the golden thread.
He used his power as the Keeper to act as an amplifier, clearing out the chaotic static and forcing a clean data pipe straight through the Veil back to reality.
"Speak," Aurelion commanded. “Ask about your body. That will comfort them. Hurry, the link to your brother, Fly, will hold for only a few breaths."
North hooked into his SEAL comms mindset, condensing the vast, terrifying reality of the Veil into a brief, standard operational sitrep.
He delivered his message, and seconds later, the golden thread snapped taut and went silent. Aurelion released his grip, the silver light fading from his fingers.
* * *
Fly sat bolt upright in bed. His mind suddenly jerked violently as North's voice cut through the mental noise like a blade.
Fly. It's North. Comms are degraded, but I'm through. I'm secure inside the Veil. The outer perimeter is down, and the environment is highly unstable, but I’m currently established in a forward observation post. I’m doing recon on the primary target's prison. I’m mapping the enemy's structural layout and capabilities. Don’t attempt extraction or entry. I’ll maintain this OP and contact you via this frequency the second I have actionable intelligence to report.
P.S...Aurelion made me ask. How is my body looking down there? Hold the line. North out.
Fly folded forward so fast the mattress creaked beneath him. For one impossible second, he couldn't breathe. North. Than. His brother was alive. His best friend was handling the Veil like he handled everything else. He had to laugh or he would cry.
North was North.