Time thief, p.22
Time Thief, page 22
This was a war without honor.
But I couldn’t spare a single moment mourning a woman who had given her life and power to the Prophet when my people were counting on me.
Ahead of me, Nash alone appeared to fight on stable ground, though the earth beneath him shook as well. Piercey and Val continued to stabilize us both as I ran and jumped to the other side of the gaping ground. Nash’s blades didn’t stop dancing for an instant. He held off two disciples as he slashed one blade toward one and blocked a hit with the other.
The disciples fighting him struggled for breath. That was when I caught the indentation wringing their necks. One of our people was trying to strangle them. And as they fended off the power, Nash launched a full-on attack. It really was working.
I swung my sword for the hip of one. The man caught it with his own blade, but Nash’s twin swords snapped like a cobra and skewered him through the gut. Blood poured out of his slack mouth. The other disciple swung for Nash, but her sword caught midair and her body trembled as she tried to bring it down on him. I advanced for her when a powerful force wrapped around my arms and jerked me back a step.
The other disciples had learned from our example. We needed to regroup and launch the next stage of our attack. Growling, I broke free of the force, the pressure squeezing me right down to my bones. I shoved Nash hard through the air toward the hill where we’d hid. Piercey would have to do the rest.
I threw my head back and screamed as I focused on throwing the disciples back. They all toppled, except for one, who dug her heels into the ground and snarled, managing to only slide a few inches.
Without hesitating, I rushed to retreat, eyes on Nash as an unseen hand pulled him through the air. He disappeared on the hill and within seconds I was there with him, helped along by Piercey.
The disciples rose off the ground from where I had flattened most of them and regrouped as we did the same on the hill.
“We took out three,” I said. “Not bad for our first attack.”
Nash wiped his forehead with the back of his arm. “I’ve never fought anyone like them.”
“They’re retreating, too, all except one.” Piercey sat on his knees, not bothering to hide.
In the field, the woman who’d walked through the blue haze stood over the body of a fallen comrade, facing us. The others ran for the rest of the Prophet’s warriors.
“She must be in charge,” I said. “I couldn’t knock her back.”
“She’s powerful,” Piercey said. “I have a good feel for them now. Let me do the next part.”
I nodded and twisted, looking for my people. I couldn’t see Leif and Wren, but if I focused hard enough, I could hear the pounding of their hearts. The Prophet’s forces had swallowed ours whole, so our warriors were surrounded from all sides. Sweat dripped down Val’s face. She couldn’t defend them all, but I knew she was shielding everyone she could.
Piercey climbed down the hill and walked out in the field, as if he wasn’t in any hurry. “Surrender now, so I don’t have to hurt you.”
The lead disciple snarled. She reached her hand up and roared. Piercey swiped his own, deflecting a gust of wind that shot from her palm.
“Last chance.” His hands tightened into fists at his sides. “Please. I don’t want to do this.”
He didn’t. The weight of what I’d asked him to do by coming to fight the Prophet sounded as though it would break his voice.
“Die!” the lead disciple shouted.
Piercey lowered his head. The grass around him rustled. The wind shifted. Without warning, a gust shot across the field, nearly slamming me back onto my ass. Nash settled a hand on the ground, eyes wide.
The Prophet’s disciples shrieked, every one of them except for the lead disciple. I whipped around to see that one by one, they collapsed onto the ground, halfway retreated to the warriors. Their bodies writhed. My gasp lodged in my throat and felt like it would burst. Blood beaded all over their skin. He was drawing it out through their pores.
The lead disciple finally collapsed to one knee. Her head lifted. Blood streamed from her eyes.
Beside me, Nash shook his head. “This death is too slow.”
“He’s putting immense pressure on their bodies.” My stomach revolted against such cruelty. “The disciples are fighting him off. I’m sure a normal person would have died instantly.” No wonder Piercey hadn’t wanted to do this first. It wasn’t just because he wanted to gauge their strength and plan accordingly. He didn’t want to issue such a cruel death.
“Put them out of their misery,” Nash said.
“I think he’s trying.”
“Then what are we doing?” He pushed to his feet and ducked down low as he ran down the hill.
“Nash!” I raced after him. “Let me go by myself.”
Nash didn’t even humor me with a glance.
Piercey stood unmoving in the field. As we ran past him, my oldest friend lifted his hand for me, eyes wide. Sweat doused his skin and clothes. Blood dripped from both of his nostrils from the effort. He needed our help. As powerful as he was, everyone with power was incredibly challenging to take on.
I focused on the disciple who knelt in the grass before us. Her body trembled and her mouth hung open as she whimpered. A thin glaze of blood covered her entire body. When she saw us, fear filled her eyes.
Nash already had his weapons poised to strike. We were warriors. It went against everything we believed to leave another fighter suffering like this. We gifted our enemies with swift deaths. And Nash was ready to oblige.
He could take care of her. I had to protect him. I focused on Nash, imagining an impenetrable circle of steel surrounding him, one only I could see, one that flashed only when he needed to be protected.
“You fought well,” Nash said. His twin swords sliced through the air for her neck. But they slammed against air and bounced back.
The disciple gasped in relief, the tension melting from her body. Her eyelids fluttered and then she passed out.
There was only one person powerful enough to stop Piercey’s attack like that.
“Nash,” I whispered. “He’s here.”
Piercey swept past me and stopped directly in front of me.
The disciples all struggled to their knees and bowed. Turning, I saw the Prophet’s warriors lower in a wave, even in the midst of battle. All around the battlefield, swords skewered warriors who made no attempt to defend themselves as they bowed down.
My people stumbled back from their enemies, ceasing their attacks as the Prophet’s warriors made themselves defenseless.
Panic lurched in my gut. Nash moved close to me, hand coming to my back. I thought of the scars weaving down his spine. How many hours had he bled because of the Prophet? I wasn’t the only one who understood his ferocity.
The black hood of the Prophet bobbed above his subjects as he walked through the crowd of warriors toward us. If he was willing to come out of his village to face us, why had he let three of his disciples die first?
My lips curled into a grimace. Of course. He needed his people to be afraid, so he would look that much mightier when he killed us. The Prophet let his disciples fight, knowing they may not be strong enough. The death of comrades spurred on any good warrior. The disciples would train more ferociously than ever.
This might be a loss for the Prophet’s people, but it was a win for him.
As he drew closer, I could see his inky black eyes staring out from the shadow of his cloak. Only then did I notice the rope in his hand and the effortless way he dragged a bobbing form from it.
Tight fingers of panic strangled my heart. It was a man.
I didn’t recognize him, but Piercey’s composure wilted and I knew. This was one of his graduates.
“Jackson …” Piercey gasped.
The body was mangled, certainly just a corpse. Arms hung from the rope like loose sacks of skin, as if his bones had disintegrated. With every movement, his legs bounced at unnatural angles.
No one could survive this. The Prophet must have been delivering a dead body to us.
Only when the Prophet stopped and slung the body into the open space between us, did I see Jackson’s wide eyes move to each of us. I pressed my fist against my stomach. He was alive.
Piercey walked toward him and then collapsed at his side, hands shaking as he slowly placed them on his back. The Prophet must have been actively keeping Jackson alive.
The man didn’t respond to Piercey. He didn’t cry or whine or even twitch. Nothing except wide, pain-filled eyes turning to his director.
“I’m so sorry,” Piercey whispered. Then he drew his knife from his side and stabbed it into his graduate’s neck.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Blood poured from the neck of the graduate who Piercey had put out of his misery. How could the Prophet have tortured him so barbarically? What he’d done to Nash had made my stomach churn, especially thinking about how many times the Prophet must have carved his name into his skin for the power to scar despite the healing. But this torment went beyond what I knew was possible.
“You bastard,” I said, lunging for the Prophet.
“Max!” Nash clutched me around my waist.
Heat spread over my body in a flash. Nash recoiled, grabbing his hand.
“You didn’t have to take it so far.” The air around me grew hazy with heat. “You have the Valley. You won! Everyone fears your name. What’s the point of toying with people like this?”
Piercey rose on shaky legs. “Don’t, Max.”
The Prophet wore a cocky grin I was desperate to wipe off his face. “You’ve seen it, too, haven’t you?” He eyed me like a hungry lion would a piece of meat. “You’ve seen your blood pooling in the cracks of my stage.”
It hit me like a punch to the gut.
“Time is given to the Prophets alone. And yet a foolish girl managed to sneak her fingers into the cracks of time and pry it apart.” The Prophet moved forward. “I can still taste your sweet blood.” A thin tongue snaked out of his mouth and licked his lips. “Tomorrow your soul will return to the gods.”
Fear choked out my voice. I’d looked into his eyes so many times—the eyes of death. I couldn’t ask what he meant about time. How he knew I would die. I could only see the life I’d never lead flash before me. A life I’d always known I’d lose and yet couldn’t stop myself from hoping for, especially now that I’d found Nash.
Piercey lifted his hand to the Prophet. “You will not go near her.”
“You have always been such a bright and optimistic boy.” The Prophet clasped his hands behind his back. “Perfect qualities for a director. It keeps you blind and easy to control.”
“Step back,” Piercey said.
“You think your Sacred School makes Prophets?” He snorted. “You churn out loyal subjects. Demons who can control their powers. Who no longer cause chaos. The gods make Prophets.”
My nostrils flared. “The gods train you once you leave the school. We should have known.”
“Letting someone learn enough to think they have it all figured out is the best way to keep them in the dark.” The Prophet glared at each of us. “The gods have no mercy left for you. I know what you did, thief. I won’t allow you to steal this world for yourself.”
Heat pounded in my temples. “Then you should rejoice in freedom, you coward, not pine for your precious gods to keep you in power.”
“You all die here today. All of you except for her.” His long finger pointed at me. “Tomorrow, Eclipse, you will finally surrender your power and the people will drink your blood and consume your power.”
Piercey belted a roar and pumped his hands out to the Prophet. Blasts of air ripped his cloak back, but the Prophet didn’t budge.
He snorted. “If you’re so eager to die …”
Beside me, Nash gasped in a strangled breath. Piercey grabbed his throat, eyes round. Tears flooded Val’s eyes.
He was choking them and even Piercey couldn’t stop it. I tried to pry back his control, but it was like trying to move a mountain. The Prophet didn’t even break a sweat. He looked into my eyes, smiling.
Beside me Nash fell to his knees, muscles straining as he gripped his neck. Terror shredded my focus.
I ripped my blade from my side and ran for the Prophet, roaring. With my arm wrenched back, I thrust it for his gut.
His power wound around my body and froze me in place. I struggled to break free, reaching within me for more power. It was as if it had been sealed again, only I realized that the Prophet was just that much stronger than me.
No.
I threw everything I had into breaking free of him but only managed to twitch my muscles.
Nash and Piercey had gone too long without air. They couldn’t do this much longer.
All the power within me pushed against his in an eruption. My blade slid forward and then it turned slowly until it pressed against my own throat.
How could I lose now?
Piercey curled up on his side. Nash’s head fell back. Val’s body spasmed.
I screamed as beads of blood popped against the blade on my throat and I strained to break free of his power.
Two forms ran through the field for us. Pain flooded my heart. Leif and Wren had broken away from the war party and were closing in on where we stood. “Stay back!” I didn’t need them to die, too.
Wren wrapped her arms around Leif and pulled him back. He skidded to a stop, desperate eyes on me. I shook my head. That was already too close. They stayed there, though I could see Leif struggling to hold himself in place. Anguish flooded Wren’s face.
Behind them, the Prophet’s warriors remained bowed down, and my people stood sideways with their swords ready, so they could keep their eyes on the warriors and the Prophet.
What a nightmare.
The Prophet didn’t even glance at Leif and Wren. He probably planned to save them for later.
“The gods have given me visions of your destruction, Eclipse.” Darkness crept over his face in a shadow as his head lowered. “You must be broken before your evil consumes us all.”
Nash collapsed onto his stomach, fingers twitching against the grass. Tears poured down my face. Elsie needed him. I needed him.
“I don’t care about what you’re saying!” I cried out as I tried to strip away his control of my friends. “Let them go!”
The Prophet walked past Piercey’s writhing body. Past Nash as his eyes fluttered. He stopped right where he could loom over me. “You truly are Eclipse. You won’t stop until you consume our sun. Our gods.”
“I will kill you,” I said, voice straining.
His silence tore into me. Beneath the wrath in the Prophet’s eye, I noticed a flicker of something. Could it be fear? Despite how he’d turned my own blade on me, he was the one who was afraid?
It occurred to me then that though the Prophet had seen my death, though he’d spoken with such confidence when he said he’d always had me, that he was afraid of me. Why? I wanted to ask, but I couldn’t waste energy on any questions, not when I was searching for more power within myself.
“Do it,” the Prophet roared. “Kill her. I can wait no longer.”
Nash’s fingers twitched as he reached for me. “N-No …” His tight voice was hardly audible.
The lead disciple ripped a dagger from her side. I stared into Nash’s eyes, wishing we were connected with a neural link so I could tell him how sorry I was. I tried with all I could to break free of the Prophet, but it was like he had wrapped chains around my body.
As the disciple reared back, I could not even stop the knife from flying for me.
In a flash, she threw it straight for my neck. My senses sharpened, tuning in on it slicing through the air in the moment it took to reach me. The last sound I’d hear before I died.
The tip nicked my skin and then the blade snapped in half. It shot to the ground in two pieces.
I gasped so hard it felt as if it ripped my chest in two. Had I done that? Had I broken the blade? I hadn’t felt my power increase or break free to the blade, though.
Suspicion filled the Prophet’s eyes. Could it have been Piercey? No. He was barely conscious. What was this?
Something or someone had intervened to save me from death, but I had not felt power from anyone.
Another disciple pulled the bow from his back and shot an arrow at my chest. It snapped in half just like the dagger and dropped to my feet.
I looked down at the broken dagger and arrow.
Shock filled the Prophet’s eyes. He grabbed a blade himself and shoved upward toward my gut.
The steel shattered and rained down over my feet as he clutched an empty hilt.
My heart stormed. Why couldn’t I die?
I couldn’t …
I couldn’t die because I’d seen my death etched into the stone of fate. The universe itself bent to right the course of time. My entire life I’d feared and hated my visions of the future, but this was the greatest power I’d ever had. All this time and I never knew it.
I couldn’t die.
Not until it was my time. The knowledge I’d gained from Piercey flooded my mind and I knew the experiments we’d studied had been right. Once an event had been observed by a conscious being, it couldn’t be altered, even if it meant disrupting the laws of physics to change it. The universe would correct its own paradoxes.
Another arrow shot and burst into countless pieces before my face. The disciple nocked another and his bowstring snapped.
Fear darkened the Prophet’s face as he lowered his head. “If you won’t die, then your friends will!”
All this time I’d held myself back in fear. I didn’t even know I had this power. Now my friends were dying on the ground. Piercey and Val had gone limp. Nash’s fingers dug into the grass, clinging to life.
What was the use in living without them?
I couldn’t fail them.
The field darkened, and in the distance, shadows dappled the Valley like the villagers had the day of the eclipse.
“Stop,” I whispered, unable to draw breath as the Prophet strangled it from Nash and Piercey’s lungs. Little Elsie had cried in her father’s arms when we’d left her house. She couldn’t grow up without him.
