Chapter 10 #3
Ben gathered Sidney into his arms — she barely stirred, too exhausted to wake — and carried her into the cabin.
The phoenix was curled near the woodstove, its corrupted fire adding warmth to the banked-down coals.
The creature lifted its head as Ben entered, ancient eyes studying him with what might have been concern.
“She got me out,” he told it. “Pushed herself past every limit to do it. So now we need to figure out how to save you both.”
The phoenix responded with a soft trill, and through the faint connection Ben shared with Sidney, he felt something from the creature. Not words — more like emotion and intent. Gratitude and affection, but underneath it all, a kind of desperate urgency.
Ben settled Sidney on the cabin’s couch, then lifted the blanket draped across the back and spread it across her. She didn’t wake, which was probably for the best. Her body needed every minute of rest it could get.
He knelt beside the phoenix and studied the contamination that had spread through its feathers. The creature was dying, and there was nothing Ben could do to stop it without Sidney’s abilities.
“I need you to show me something,” Ben said. “Sidney told me about the anchoring process, about how her grandmother nearly died attempting it at full strength. Sidney’s at maybe fifteen percent capacity, if that. She can’t survive anchoring you alone.”
The phoenix regarded him steadily, and Ben felt that brush against his consciousness again. This time, it sent images of Sidney and Ben together, their electromagnetic signatures creating that golden glow he’d seen before.
Then it sent something new — their signatures not just resonating, but merging, becoming temporarily one consciousness, one coordinated system.
“You’re saying I need to fully merge with Sidney during the cleansing,” Ben said, hoping he’d interpreted the image correctly. “Actually share the anchor role, not just stabilize her abilities.”
The phoenix’s response felt like confirmation.
“I don’t think that’s ever been done before.” Frustration seeped into his voice despite his best attempts to sound calm. “We don’t even know if it’s possible.”
More images came from the phoenix — guardians through the generations, always working alone, always bearing the full weight of the anchor role.
And always nearly dying from the effort.
But Sidney wasn’t alone. She had a partner whose electromagnetic signature resonated with hers. Maybe that changed the equation.
Rebecca Morse returned, her expression satisfied, although her slim form remained tense, ready to react at the first sign of trouble.
“The perimeter’s clear, and I didn’t see any signs of pursuit.
They’re probably still searching near the facility, assuming we’d head for population centers or known safe houses. ”
“How long do we have?” Ben asked, gaze still fixed on the phoenix.
“Until they expand the search radius? Maybe ten hours. Maybe less if Rosenthal decides to get creative.” Rebecca moved to check Sidney’s pulse, and her lips compressed. “She needs at least six hours of sleep. Her body’s shutting down from the strain.”
“The phoenix has maybe ten hours before cascade failure.” Ben finally looked away from the creature. “And Sidney needs days to recover enough power for the final cleansing.”
“Then we’re looking at an impossible situation.” Rebecca settled into a chair, weariness finally showing in her expression. That had been a hell of a drive. “Unless you have a plan I don’t know about.”
“The phoenix showed me something — a way Sidney and I might both survive the final merge.” He explained the images he’d received as best he could — the full merge, sharing the anchor role instead of just stabilizing her abilities.
“It’s never been attempted before. I don’t even know if it’s possible. ”
Rebecca’s dark brows, such a contrast to her pale hair, pulled together. “But you’re going to try anyway.”
“We don’t have any better options.” He got up from the spot where he’d been kneeling next to the phoenix and returned to Sidney’s side, one hand finding hers.
Even in sleep, she trembled. “If she attempts the cleansing alone, she’ll die.
If she doesn’t attempt it at all, the phoenix will die, and the portal network will collapse.
At least this way, we’ll have a chance.”
Rebecca was quiet for a long moment. When she spoke, her voice had a note of cautious hope.
“Eric Hargrove contacted me while you were being held. He said he’s willing to testify against Rosenthal and expose the whole Phoenix Project, but only if we can destroy the artificial portal first. Otherwise, DAPI will just disappear him before he can talk. ”
Add another impossible task to the list. “How do we destroy it?”
“The phoenix’s clean fire, apparently. If we can complete the natural rebirth cycle, the resulting energy surge will overload the artificial portal’s systems. It’ll burn out the machinery, maybe even collapse the facility’s underground levels.
” Her dark eyes met his. “But it has to be clean fire. The corrupted version would just feed the artificial portal and make it stronger.”
So, all they had to do was help Sidney recover enough to anchor the phoenix through final cleansing, merge with Ben in a way that had never been attempted before, complete the rebirth with clean fire instead of corrupted, and somehow survive the process long enough for that clean fire to destroy Rosenthal’s weapon.
No problem.
“Then that’s what we’ll do,” he said. “We’ll rest and plan, and then we’ll find a way to make the impossible work.”
Rebecca’s lips curled into an ironic smile. “You say that like you believe it.”
“I have to believe it.” Ben gave Sidney’s hand a gentle squeeze, but she didn’t stir. “Because the alternative is giving up. And I didn’t survive being DAPI’s prisoner just to give up now.”
A slow nod. “Get some rest. I’ll take first watch. Then we’ll reassess in six hours and figure out our approach.”
Ben wanted to argue that he should take first watch, that she’d already done enough. But exhaustion was catching up with him now that the adrenaline had faded. His arms ached from carrying Sidney, his head throbbed from stress, and his body demanded sleep.
He settled onto the floor next to the couch, one hand still holding Sidney’s, and the phoenix watched them both with ancient, knowing eyes. Somewhere in the distance, Rosenthal’s teams were searching, getting closer with every passing minute.
Six hours to rest and recover. Then they’d attempt something that had never been done, risk everything on a merge that might kill them both, and hope it was enough to save the phoenix and destroy DAPI’s weapon.
Just another day in the field.
Ben closed his eyes, feeling Sidney’s pulse steady under his fingers, and let exhaustion pull him under.
They’d face the impossible together.
Because that’s just what they did.