It was possible…but not a guarantee. Ideally he would capture the breaker, rather than kill it outright.

  The green door at the far end of the room began to shake and rattle on its hinges.

  Oren looked up toward the hole in the roof, and shifted into the sky above it. He dropped a few feet down onto the shingles, then turned and peered down into the house. The front door crumpled, and flew across the room. The breaker glided in, still wearing an angry red grimace. Its arm hadn’t grown back—which was a plus, but it was clearly upset.

  Think Oren.

  He ducked his head away from the hole. How does a breaker do what it does? Whenever he’d seen them attack, they used their claw-like hands to direct it. He’d already taken off one arm…maybe if he got rid of the other, it would be enough. It was worth a shot. He just had to find a way to get close enough without being crushed like a bug.

  I need to get him outside.

  Oren took another look into the hole in the roof, and found two white eyes staring back at him from below.

  Uh oh.

  He gathered, and shifted ten feet to the left. The hole in the roof rapidly spread outward, with shingles dropping away into the house. He shifted to the peak of the roof, and the wooden frame began to buckle. The entire house would collapse in a matter of seconds.

  Oren glanced down into the house, worrying that there may still be innocent people inside.

  He hadn’t seen or heard anyone, so he turned his attention back to the threat.

  The breaker glided backwards out of the house with one arm raised up before it.

  He’s going to crush the entire house…I guess that’s one way to get him out, Oren thought.

  The gravitational pull it was creating within the house began to drag on his legs.

  Now or never.

  Oren shifted toward the yard in front of the house, but only made it about half way. His eyes widened in shock as he dropped the last ten feet into the grass below. He’d never considered the possibility that the gravity wells could interfere with his shifting. It was bad news, but all the more reason for him to move quickly.

  He dropped into a roll and came up just as the breaker turned its attention to him. Oren shifted, appearing directly beside it. Before it could react, he grasped the breaker’s cloak.

  Shift.

  They were suddenly fifty feet over the ground in mid-air.

  Oren grinned at the confused expression on the breaker’s face, and shifted safely back to the ground.

  The breaker dropped like a rock. When it was around fifteen feet over the street, its descent slowed unnaturally. It turned its white eyes toward him as it gently lowered down, the grin returning to its face.

  “Foolish boy,” it growled in its gravelly, guttural voice. “Did you truly believe that would work?”

  “No,” Oren said, shaking his head.

  The breaker descended the last few feet, directly into a cluster of remaining stasis spheres left by the dead hasai.

  “But I expect this will.”

  Oren shifted behind the breaker. It attempted to turn, but its lower half was locked in place. Growling, it raised its remaining arm to dismiss the spheres.

  Oren wasted no time raising his sword, and brought it down on the breaker’s shoulder. Exigence cut through bone and flesh with only the slightest bit of resistance. The arm fell, freezing in place above the ground within a stasis sphere.

  The breaker shrieked with indignant rage.

  Oren walked around to the front of the breaker, avoiding the spheres. Dark globs of blood congealed around its wounds. He held out his sword, pressing the tip against its chest.

  A rippling gravity well materialized behind the breaker, wrenching its head back.

  Oren leapt back, defensively raising his sword, and the well dissipated. His brow wrinkled in confusion. He looked down at his open-palmed left hand, which was tingling.

  He curled his pointer finger in, and a small well rippled into existence over his hand.

  Well that’s interesting.

  It was the strangest sensation. All he had to do was think about what he wanted to do, and his fingers made the appropriate movements.

  Oren grinned, meeting the breaker eye to eye. There was something intensely satisfying about having this wretched creature at his whim.

  “I’m sorry,” Oren said, smirking, “What was it you said you were going to do to me?”

  The breaker glared at him malevolently. It rapidly clacked its crimson teeth together several times.

  “Oh that’s right,” Oren said, “You were going to devour my eyes.” He grinned, indulging in the power he had over the miserable creature. “Perhaps you can explain how you plan to accomplish this without any teeth?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

  Oren’s fingers closed and opened in an undulating wave, and the air molecules around the breaker’s skull condensed, holding it firmly in place.

  “Now,” Oren said, his expression growing deadly serious, “Tell me, where I can find him. Where is Maveth?”

  The breaker said nothing. It simply continued grinning its blood-smeared grin.

  “Very well,” Oren said, secretly pleased that it had chosen not to answer just yet.

  He drew his pointer finger and thumb together, and the molecules beneath the breaker’s bony jaw condensed, forming a small, localized gravity well. The breaker’s teeth remained clenched shut, so Oren poured more kai into the gravity well. Eventually, its mouth was wrenched open, exposing a blood-soaked maw.

  “Shall we begin with the molars?” Oren asked.

  On some level, he knew that it should have felt wrong—the enjoyment he was getting out of interrogating this hateful creature. But this was one of the monsters that murdered his parents. It deserved what he was about to inflict, and so much more. It deserved his hatred.

  More grinding laughter emanated from the breaker, and Oren grit his teeth together.

  He curled the tips of his fingers, and another localized gravity well began to form over one of the breaker’s crimson molars. The laughter continued as Oren poured more of his strength into it. He was rewarded for his efforts with the sickening crunch of tearing roots as the tooth came loose. Blood poured from its black gums, filling its mouth and running down its chin. Oren grew suddenly sick to his stomach.

  Maker…What am I doing?

  He released the gravity wells around the breaker’s head, and its laughter grew louder.

  I’ll find him some other way.

  Oren lifted his blade, preparing to end its life.

  “You cannot win,” the breaker growled.

  “Maybe not,” Oren said, “But I’m going to make boiling sure you can’t either.”

  With that, he brought his blade down for a killing blow. The razor-sharp silvery edge froze in place, inches from the pallid flesh of the breaker’s neck.

  Oren frowned. His free arm was suddenly drawn down against his side, fingers splayed and locked in place. His sword was forced away from the breaker’s neck, his arm extended outward at his side.

  Oren’s entire body was held in place by an invisible iron grip. He shifted, only to reappear in the exact same spot.

  Drawing upon all his strength, Oren fought to break free of his bonds. It was no use. Whatever held him was even stronger than the breaker had been.

  Oren was utterly and completely immobilized. Something began slowly turning him around, and his captor came into view.

  Captors, he corrected. Two more breakers stood before him, their large white eyes rippling with the combined effort of holding him in place.

  One of them looked to the maimed breaker behind Oren, and made a small gesture with its claw-like hand. A brief shriek, accompanied by a horrible tearing sound marked what Oren assumed was the end of its life.

  The breaker’s fingers twitched, and there was suddenly pressure on his arm, followed by excruciating pain. Oren screamed. It felt as if a thousand hooks were embedded in the right half of his body, and all of them were being yanked at once. But the breakers weren’t the ones inflicting the pain, at least not directly. They were attempting to pull Exigence from his grasp. Oren tried to release it, fearing his entire arm might be ripped off at the shoulder, but the blade held of its own accord.

  The breakers were under visible strain, contorting their twisted, clawed fingers as they worked to dislodge the weapon from his palm. The pain grew so intense that darkness formed at the corners of his vision.

  It was at that moment that the blade relinquished its grasp. Dark, sinewy strands, dripping with red blood hung between his palm and the hilt of the sword.

  Oren felt his strength failing. Without Exigence, his kai reserves plummeted.

  The breakers turned their attention from the sword to him.

  The pain in his arm receded, and his blood-soaked hand twitched.

  I can still move my fingers, he realized. He gathered, and focused on the area just behind the breakers. His fingers curled inward, and molecules condensed, rushing to fill the hole in the gravity well he’d created. One of the breakers turned its head toward the disturbance. It waved a hand, and the energy quickly dissipated.

  Boil it.

  “You will die. But first, you will suffer.”

  Oren felt pressure in the center of his skull, and screamed. His vision went red. Every inch of his skin registered searing hot pain. It felt as if his lungs were breathing fire, and his heart beating against the tip of a sharp knife. He screamed for several long seconds, and was at the brink of losing consciousness when the pain finally receded.

  Oren panted wildly, soaked in sweat.

  “You’ll not escape torment so easily,” the breaker taunted.

  “That…all…you got?” he said breathlessly.

  The breaker growled, and the pain returned with a vengeance. Oren heard himself screaming, but his voice seemed far off. He clenched his eyes shut, and between flashes of red pain saw the world draped in energy. The breakers before him glowed as they gathered to hold him in place. Kai twisted and churned, making up the ground, the trees, and the houses across the street.

  Every last tendril of energy dimmed, then grew bright again. He couldn’t tell if it was from the pain, or something else. It happened again, and again. His back arched, and every muscle in his body spasmed. In his tormented state, Oren loosely grasped that the kai was not dimming, but the darkness between was pulsing.

  He was once again on the brink of consciousness when the pain receded. Blood ran down his chin. He’d bitten into his tongue, though he hadn’t remembered doing it.

  “Do you value your sanity, Oren Hart?”

  He was too exhausted to answer.

  “Few endure more than this, and retain it.”

  The pressure in his skull increased, and the pain again rose to a fever pitch.

  Enough! Oren wanted to shout, but his jaw was clenched shut. He grasped desperately for something, anything to make it stop. His mind brushed against the pulsing dark energy, and it rushed over him like a raging river.

  Oren gasped, his eyes bulging wide. The dark tendrils flooded his body, turning his blood to ice. It was the same shocking sensation as stepping through a waygate, only continuous and unending. Raw, unbridled energy surged through him, threatening to explode outward in an uncontrollable wave of destruction. Oren fought to contain it, but he had drawn too much. Every atom in his body was vibrating, supercharged with dark energy.

  I can’t control it!

  He screamed, as a massive column of ebony fire, deeper than the darkest hour of night, blasted into the sky. The cold flame seared his mind and body alike, but the dark energy within somehow kept him from being burned away. After several long seconds, the column desisted, leaving only a lingering shadow that climbed upwards through the hole it had carved in the clouds.

  Oren collapsed onto his hands and knees, his breath shaky and uneven. Metal scraped along the ground, and he felt motion under his right hand. Turning his bowed head, he watched as the sinewy strands between his palm and Exigence retracted. The blade slid the last few inches along the ground until the hilt was firmly locked into his palm once more.

  There was no more of the dark energy within him, but he could still feel the halo of its presence. A shadow remained, much like the lingering shadow in the sky where the flame had been. Oren’s breath normalized, and warmth began returning to his limbs. He sat back on his legs, and his eyes grew wide.

  The breakers.

  They were kneeling. Each stared blankly at him with over-large white eyes, their thin lips pulled tight over barred teeth.

  Oren slowly stood on shaky legs, trying his best to maintain a defensive stance. Given his current state, they could easily have overwhelmed and killed him. He was exhausted, though his strength was gradually returning. His eyes narrowed as they fell to the breaker that had been tormenting him. The muscles in his back spasmed involuntarily. He stepped forward, extending the tip of his blade toward the breaker’s face. The point was less than an inch from its eye when he stopped.

  It made no effort to move, and Oren fought the powerful urge to drive the blade forward; to inflict the same suffering upon this pathetic creature that had been inflicted upon him—to break it.

  He glared at the hideous creature, kneeling in deference.

  “Why?” he asked.

  The breaker responded in its deep, gravelly voice, “We serve.”

  “Who?” Oren tried to keep his voice from shaking.

  “Ut iubes tua sumus, exitium dominus.”

  Oren slowly lowered his sword and stepped back. The words were vaguely familiar, but he had no idea as to the exact meaning. He did, however, clearly understand the sentiment.

  “Rise,” Oren commanded with sharp disdain.

  The breakers rose to full height, and then some, as they lifted slightly off the ground.

  “You will do whatever I command?”

  “We serve,” it repeated in its deep, gravelly voice.

  Oren paused, still unsure whether or not this was some kind of trick.

  “You,” he said, pointing his sword toward the other breaker which had yet to speak.

  A deep rumble filled its chest.

  Oren turned back to his torturer, and his eyes narrowed. “Kill.”

  The silent breaker gestured. There was a brief shriek, cut off by the unsettling wet crunch of bone as its companion was folded in half backwards. Its contorted body fell to the ground in a jumbled heap.

  Oren turned his gaze back to the remaining breaker with grim satisfaction.

  “Enough games,” he said. “Where is Maveth?”

  The breaker didn’t answer. It simply turned, holding its arms out at either side.

  Oren watched as its clawed fingers undulated rhythmically. Large ripples emanated outward in the air before it, but rather than dissipating, the ripples collected at the edges. Reality became warped among the jumbled waves, and somehow thinner within them. There was an abrupt tearing sound, and a ragged hole appeared. On the other side, a reflective onyx footpath stretched out into the distance through a sea of pale, white ash.

  Oren turned, taking one last glance toward the unfamiliar house standing where he’d spent his childhood. Chances were he would never see it again, which was just fine. The only thing left for him there were painful memories.

  He stepped up beside the breaker, whose hands were still working to hold the tear open.

  “Once I’m through, you will destroy yourself,” he said coldly.

  Another deep rumble reverberated within its chest.

  Oren took a deep breath, and stepped forward through the ragged hole onto the onyx path. From behind, he heard a swift crunch of bone, and the opening knitted shut.

  20

  At the Gates

  Anzien took a drink from her canteen, and surveyed the cloudless skies. Eleven-thousand soldiers stretched out before her, like a great lake of black, gray, and green, surrounded by reddish-brown sand. Sweat beaded on her brow. She’d forgotten how hot the Miralaja could be, even this close to the gulf. Had it been summer time, the march would have taken twice as long. As it were, they had been able to march nearly half the day, before stopping here for a respite.

  New Arcadia had just come into view. It looked small from so far away. Anzien shaded her brow, peering toward it. At that moment, a thin vertical strip climbed skyward from the left side of the colony. It looked like someone had taken a black pen and drawn a line straight up into the sky.

  “Legion Commander.” A young woman’s voice drew Anzien’s attention.

  The female recruit saluted, and handed her a note, before running off.

  Anzien turned her attention back to New Arcadia, but the strange line had faded.

  She turned the folded note over in her hands.

  Why would a recruit be delivering messages and not a runner?

  She unfolded it, and read the inside.

  Furrowing her brow, she shaded her eyes and looked out to the low butte at the western edge of the army. A figure stood atop it, waving his arms.

  Is that…Taybor?

  The hint of a smile pulled at the corner of her mouth. She stood, and jogged toward the butte, nodding to the soldiers who stood and saluted along the way. She reached the butte after several minutes, but there was no sign of the blond-haired farm boy.

  She glanced back to the nearest group of soldiers. They appeared to be caught up in their own conversation, paying no attention to her.

  Anzien breathed a laugh. There was something very familiar about all of this. She walked around the side of the butte, and found an unexpected, but wholly welcomed sight.

  “Anzien!” Obasi’s baritone voice rang out as he grinned and waved her over. He was sitting in a circle with Taybor, Dulari, Sheif, and Pria.

  Just like old times, she thought with a pang of sadness that her brother could not be there alongside them.

 

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