Chapter 16 Stakes
STAKES
As I speak, I feel the cosmic division energy tearing apart our Bloodbond, right to the quick. Strom feels distant, after he shut himself away to hide his emotions; Bjorn is no less, as he feels so far away in Stockholm trying to prevent disaster with our King.
Baldur is resting nearby; like me, he had the mickey taken out of him when we failed in our Bloodwalking, and spent nearly everything he had left to get the Eriksson clan through to a safe haven after the battle.
Not to mention when everyone bolstered me after I tried to get through to Bjorn and Strom.
Which was only moderately successful.
Only Mikkel and Laerke hold our light now, as even I stew in a dark place about what we’re up against, and how it’s affecting all of us. Only they shine like twin stars in the darkness as I take them in now, amazed by this new brightness they’ve found.
They’re powerhouses, still vicious; but they’re tempered and grounded now by this amazing strength I feel flowing through them, as they rally the rest of us.
To get back on our feet—or fall apart as this black Void-energy divides us.
I feel their stalwart fierceness bolster me now, keeping me away from my own darkest place, which I am so tempted to fall into at my terrible realization of everything we’re up against. Because it was my idea to use the Soulstone to strengthen my connection to the Black Dragon in the Void, using that connection to find those who made the Rift.
What I didn’t count on was that we might call the real energy of the Black Rift right to us.
Inviting it the fuck in—to take us down.
“This is all my fault,” I say now, as I heave the worst sigh ever, slumped back in the pillows. “I led us here. I brought us out to the Void to find that black energy. And guess what? We fucking found it.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself.” Laerke cocks a hard, battle-ready eyebrow at me.
“Sometimes the darkness wins, but you know how we fight back? By reminding ourselves of all the goodness in the world, and all the people who love us. Sometimes in my darkest nights, all I had was Mikkel’s guiding light, and knowing he loved me.
But out of the darkness can come strength, and knowledge, Rikyava—I know you’re no stranger to that.
Take a breath; regroup. How do we turn this knowledge of what’s really assailing us to our advantage? ”
“Laerke’s right. Hedda doesn’t know everything about this ancient Rift energy she used to create her creature—she’s made that clear, since she still thinks she can control it,” Mikkel says now, as he nods, acknowledging how his sister is always ruthlessly on-point.
“But we know better. This thing is cosmic; it wants nothing but to divide and unmake everything. How do we counter that?”
I feel that Mikkel and Laerke aren’t giving up as Mikkel speaks—because the twins both have hope now. It’s something I desperately need, as I feel that hope flowing into me, bolstering me.
“Our ancient Ancestors called that division energy to themselves during their ritual that created the Rift,” I say, as I digest this with them.
“They were trying to get more power; but because of their intention to create war, to divide and conquer their enemies, they ended up calling division out in the stars. The cosmic division energy we felt… manifesting it here on earth.”
“Hedda fucked up big time when she used that power to make the Black Dragon.” Mikkel’s dark eyes blaze.
“She was drowning in division energy after her First Drake’s death, and sold her soul to that cosmic division energy, thinking it would get her what she wanted.
She faced her own schism in that cavern and chose darkness—her and all her drakes. ”
“But you can’t make heaven out of hell; you can’t take division and create unity from it. It only creates more divisiveness, endlessly… until all of time runs out.” Laerke is thoughtful now as she cocks her head. Sitting on my bed, she laces her hands around one knee, leaning back.
“Hedda still believes she can make her calculations work, though,” I say, as all the pieces fall together.
“She still thinks she can use her creature to unite us, controlling the Black Dragon better this time, once she’s fully returned to it.
What she doesn’t know is that the Usurper will always go insane from the tormented souls inside it, thanks to the division energy that created it. Killing incessantly in its madness…”
“It’ll devour everything until there’s nothing left.
” Mikkel holds my gaze, intense. “Just like how we were being drained right back to the universe during our botched Soulstone ritual. Every soul the Black Dragon delivers to the Rift in Hedda’s final ritual will be claimed by that cosmic force, rather than united.
Destroyed… right down to the soul-energy that makes them. ”
“Which makes the divisive energy in the stars grow,” I say with a horrible knowing, as I glance between Mikkel and Laerke.
“We felt it as it devoured us—how it grew stronger. I felt its eagerness when we were fighting in the ruined city up in Magnussen lands, how hungry it was to eat all those souls falling into its giant maw. It wants to eat us all, and grow from what we feed it. It’ll kill everything, everywhere.
Until it destroys all the stars… and breaks the entire cosmos because of it. ”
A dire chill sweeps through me as Mikkel and Laerke echo it. A terrible shudder, like we just experienced the death-knell of the entire universe, ripples through us as we try to digest everything we’re up against.
“You need to call your Archangels, now.” Laerke pins me with her formidable gaze, intense. “If we’re right, it’s not just our world at stake from this. It’s every world. Everywhere.”
“That’s why the Archangels are afraid of it,” Mikkel says as a dark understanding sharpens his eyes. “They’re only working on containment for the Black Dragon, because even they don’t know how to battle this cosmic division energy that powers it.”
“It has to be healed, not fought,” I say suddenly then, as Maryse’s words ring all through my very blood and bones. “We cannot fight fire with fire. We have to heal it somehow—and unmake it.”
“How do you unmake that which unmakes all things?” Mikkel muses now, darkly thoughtful.
Our conversation falters as we digest this impossible conundrum. As we sit in silence, I feel Baldur wake in the room adjacent. As if he were keeping an ear on our conversation in his Void-sleep, he comes to us now, tapping on the open doorway.
I motion Baldur in; he enters and sits on the bed beside Laerke, his blue eyes deep as he watches me. He’s exhausted, though Baldur has drawn hope from this conversation with the twins. I feel it cascade all through him as he leans over in his tawny battle-leathers, kissing me.
“How are you feeling?” he asks, though I know it’s just his way of entering the conversation.
“How much of that did you hear just now?” I ask him, as his dark blue eyes drill into me.
“All of it,” Baldur says simply, as he stares me down.
“Rikyava, Laerke’s right. We need to call the Intercessoria.
Because if you all are right—and from everything I experienced during our Bloodwalking, I believe you are—then we need all the help we can get.
It’s time to call in the cavalry. Even if the Intercessoria refuse to deal with us, we have to let them know what a risk this is to our world…
and perhaps, the entire cosmos. If we can’t stop this cosmic division energy…
someone needs to have a contingency plan.
A way of keeping Pandora’s evil even moderately inside the box.
Even if it means sacrificing our entire world to do it. ”
As I listen to Baldur’s sage words, I feel something firm inside me. He’s right; a good commander considers not only the impact a battle might have on their forces, but everything that is at stake. Right now, our entire universe might be, though we are dealing with only one small part of it.
But evil like this has a way of spreading.
Like Baldur, I know it’s time to call this shit.
As I find a deep place inside me now, I recognize the calm within the storm.
I am that place, as I flare Insinio Brandfort’s personal phone number bright inside my mind now.
It flares gold, then blazes white inside my mind.
As Insinio arrives, dressed in full black Intercessoria armor—for war.
“Hey, badass.” Insinio’s seven-layer, silver-black Archangel wings descend to the floor from his sudden portaling in with his vast angelic power. They whisper through the room in a massive wind of their own power as he reaches up, drawing his massive silver longsword from a holster across his back.
Planting it tip down on the floor, he folds his massive hands atop it, as if he’s about to fight.
“Hey badass, yourself.” I banter back, though the eye contact we’re making is beyond intense, as I’m flooded with his gargantuan Archangelic power.
“Lay it on me,” he says quietly now, as his vivid silver eyes penetrate me. “I can feel you’ve uncovered one big wallop of a discovery about the Black Dragon.”
“One moment.” A new voice grates into our conversation as I am concussed by a second, massive superpower portaling in. Insinio’s partner in the Intercessoria, Heathren Merkami, has also arrived. His elegantly lean and almost emaciated height is a dire contrast to Insinio’s massive bulk.
Heathren’s fierce opal-white eyes with just a trace of silver burn me like firebrands now.
Shaking out his own obsidian-dark wings next to Insinio’s, he has two wicked silver Archangel blades in his black-buckled getup.
He sets his hands on their hilts in a fierce stance like he’s also about to do battle, as he lifts an eyebrow at us.