It was all well and good to pretend that this was the final victory lap before Samantha and I triumphed over the evil forces arranged to plunge the world into chaos, but the reality was anything but. Hundreds of other Horr poured through the weakened barriers between our reality – and the Bloodcrowned King ensured that there was no shortage of fresh bodies for them to use so they could incarnate physically.

  Sloan described this as a science. I didn’t understand how this was supposed to be more controlled than the summoning circles that the Scuncath utilized. His expectation was likely that the Bloodcrowned King would eliminate the dregs before departing for the Veil with its price in tow.

  “We really ought to stop for a second so I can heal you.”

  I shook my head, “No. I’m fine.”

  “But it’ll slow us down if you keep limping like that.”

  “We’re not going fast in the first place. We have to avoid as many of these demons as possible.”

  I was being stubborn for no good reason. I’d been battling through the injury since it happened, but that grace period was long over and now every step sent a bolt of pain down my spine. A smarter person would have gone to a surgeon and come up with an effective excuse to remove the fragments. My hubris was getting the better of me.

  I wasn’t even certain that Samantha could extract the fragments. She could stitch matter together easily enough – but she didn’t possess the tools she would need to cut open the scar and fish out the various small pieces inside.

  Navigating was made more difficult by the condition of the city. The inter-dimensional storm I observed during our dash to chase down the Bloodcrowned King was growing more intense by the second. Powerful gusts of pressurized air were blowing through the narrow streets like a wind tunnel. The clouds overhead churned and twisted around the pillar of light being emitted by the crystal within the museum.

  It was powerful enough to force us back while standing upright. When it picked up even stronger we were forced to stop for a moment and find something to hold onto to keep ourselves steady. Combine that with our attempts to keep away from the demons prowling through the alleyways and courtyards, and it was a nigh impossible feat to get there without being caught up in even more trouble.

  It was apocalyptic. This was what Durandia was worried about. It wasn’t the Bloodcrowned King itself – but Sloan’s rampant ambition leading him to meddle in matters that were far too dangerous for the likes of him. He wanted to destroy as much as possible, but this was even more than he bargained for when he sprung his plan into action.

  Another powerful gale whipped through one of the streets, rattling shutters and windows as it went. The pressure difference was so intense that it pushed us away before we could start making our way through. The sky was blood-red, despite the fact that it was meant to be early in the afternoon. The sun wouldn’t set for hours yet.

  “This weather is crazy!” Sam gasped, holding onto the sides of her coat to keep it closed.

  “I’m starting to worry that the demons are the least problematic part of this. What’ll happen if we don’t destroy that machine and allow it to keep raging on?”

  “We’re gonna’ smash it to bits – don’t talk yourself down before we’ve even gotten back to the museum!”

  Na?ve optimism was not a helpful addition to my working process. Samantha was kind and well-meaning enough, but we came from different worlds both figuratively and literally. I preferred facts and plans more than anything else. Optimism was only good when I was trying to ply information from someone by putting on a friendly face.

  Positivity was hard to come by given the dire state of the city. Barricades of furniture and overturned carts were still standing, now decorated with the most morbid kind of accessory. Soldiers, policemen, militia and civilians – none were spared. Some were pinned to walls and left standing there with spikes coming from their eye-sockets, others were contorted into painful shapes with broken arms and legs.

  Samantha covered her mouth and tried not to throw up in shock. I had a strong stomach, not strong enough for teleportation mind you, but this was still enough to make me stop and take it in. What a horrible way to die.

  We kept moving down the avenues, stopping at each corner and ensuring that none of the demons were lying in wait for us further along. There was no way that Genta and Veronica could have gotten to the museum in these conditions, and even if they did the machine was still fraying the fabric that separated this reality from the Veil.

  My bad leg was really getting worse with every step. That attack from the King must have dislodged something or agitated the shards inside. Samantha was behind me, worrying that I was about to fall over flat onto my face once the pain became too much.

  It was inevitable that this would come back to bite me in the ass.

  We were halfway through the trip, close to the train station that ran through the middle of the city. This was a heavily defended transport link, and signs of battle between the soldiers, police officers and Horr were evident wherever we looked. Bodies of humans and demons alike were strewn over barricades and upturned lamp posts.

  Stepping over a body unsighted was my undoing. It happened in an instant. The ground beneath my feet rumbled with the heavy footfalls of an unseen threat, and at the same moment my leg gave way and sent me down onto my hands and knees close to the alleyway. I whipped my head around to the side and felt my heart skip a beat, a spike-covered Horr rampaging towards me with hundreds of jagged teeth bared and ready to rip my body to shreds.

  Was I really going to die here after beating the final boss?

  I couldn’t stop it. It would take slightly too long to expand my magical senses and destroy it, and using long-ranged attacks during our last fight had exhausted me. Samantha yelled out and moved to rescue me from its clutches. It leapt into the air and came down on top of me. A savage blood spike avoided hitting me in the head by a matter of inches, digging into the ground next to my ear. I scrambled to try and draw my gun through the fog that clouded my mind.

  The crack of gunfire snapped me out of my stupor. Blackened blood splattered across my chest and face. The beast reeled back from the force of the blow giving me the window of opportunity I needed to aim my own weapon and shoot several bullets into its open maw and face. The deadened flesh was torn to shreds and it wailed as the structure fell to pieces.

  “Shit! They’re everywhere!” I grunted.

  I couldn’t take any more hits like that. I was still hurting from when the King tried to throw me into the ground at the fake parliament building.

  “Who shot at it?” Sam wondered.

  “Up here!”

  Our attention was called to one of the nearby fire escapes. Marco Fisichella was halfway through an open window with a smoking gun in his hand. He was clearly ready to pack his things and get out of dodge, but for whatever reason he was stuck here. He stepped out and leant against the edge of the fire escape with a pistol in one hand and a trunk full of his possessions.

  Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators!

  “Should I consider that payback for the money, or am I indebted to you?”

  Marco scowled, “I’d rather not be owed a favour by the likes of you. You look like you’ve been through hell. What are you doing out here?”

  “What are you doing out here?” I said, “I thought you were going to get out of the city and lay low somewhere?”

  “As you can imagine, everyone else in this city has the same idea. The train station is filled to overflowing – and I’m not sitting there like an easy target with these disgusting monsters running around. The men guarding that place are being whittled down as we speak. And that’s before they worry about that flying horror...”

  “We took care of it. Barely.”

  “It’s dead? You are one terrifying little girl; do you know that?” Marco sighed.

  “Yes. I am well aware of the implausibility of such a feat.”

  “Maybe those soldiers will have a chance to keep control over the station area with it gone,” he chuckled, “But I think hiding in a building is the best option.”

  There were a lot of open doors because of the panic that broke out during the fighting. He must have found a good spot to hide and camped out so he could wait for the chaos to blow over.

  “I don’t get why you’re out here risking your neck!” he shouted down at me.

  Samantha frowned, “Are you joking? If we don’t do something, we’re all going to die from whatever that... hurricane is supposed to be.”

  Marco rolled his eyes at her kind-hearted gesture; “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, and don’t ever fall for someone telling you that they need you to work for free. There’s nothing to be gained from stepping in now.”

  “I already told you, Sloan is one step away from accidentally ensuring that we’re terrorized by these horrible monsters for the rest of our days! I’d rather not watch my friends and family be murdered by them.”

  Marco’s detached attitude was all too familiar. He was me from a year ago. He only cared about getting his slice of the pie and never considered the big picture. There was nothing pulling on him. A man without connections, without a desire for legacy – just a cold-hearted intent on making money. It’d be stupid of me to say that his perspective was undeserved. I was in the same position.

  Whether I want to admit it or not, things were different now. Losing one life made me want to preserve this one. I didn’t know if redemption was waiting for me on the other side of the curtain – but I wasn’t going to go down without trying. Samantha would say some corny dialogue about me caring about her and the others...

  In Marco I saw my own reflection. He was very good at lying to himself.

  “Why did you come out and help then?” I asked.

  He waved his gun in the air, “I’m keeping them away from my hiding place. Saving you is only a coincidence.”

  We didn’t have time to stick around and argue about this with Marco. I let him settle with his answer and motioned for us to leave. Samantha fell in behind me and we walked away, only for him to call out one last time before we disappeared from view.

  “Good luck.”

  “I don’t need luck.”

  We had ‘fate’ on our side.

  Genta and Veronica stood in the atrium of the museum. At the eye of the storm the winds were much more subdued, but they were also right next to the crystal. It glowed with reddened light, steam emitting from the surface and up into the air. The atmosphere in front of them wavered from the heat, or perhaps that was a sign of the Veil coming through into the other side.

  “What do you think?”

  Genta shook his head, looking over the control panel which had been destroyed after the machine was turned on. The levers and buttons for the Etherscope were operable with the right know-how, but no matter what he did the crystal continued to rattle in its restraints.

  “He had no intention of turning this thing off once it was on. None of these controls work!”

  Genta ducked down on instinct as the sound of a slobbering beast snuck through one of the smashed windows. Veronica’s head snapped in the same direction to make sure it wasn’t sneaking up on them from outside. They had just missed the high tide of those creatures appearing by possessing the dead bodies created by the larger Horr. Unfortunately, that meant they were covered with deadly spikes of hardened gore. Being caught by one of them and dragged to the ground was certain death.

  They hid in tense silence until the sound moved away from the building.

  “They’re hunting for live prey. We should be safe if we keep the noise to a minimum.”

  Every so often she found her eyes drifting away from the entrance and towards the main stairwell where Frankfort’s body was still lying. Every time she tried to put it into the back of her head and focus on the job, she grew increasingly frustrated with her inability to ignore the ignoble manner in which she perished. A moment of poor judgement was the difference between life and death. Frankfort always told her to be the one who shot first.

  “Do you want to get her body and go?” Genta asked.

  “Why would we do that? We should secure this building and wait for Maria and Samantha to return.”

  “We can’t turn this off, and from my estimation it’s only going to get more violent the longer we wait. This building is already close to collapsing on itself.”

  “I’m not going to be so short-sighted in a time of crisis. Frankfort would have my head for even considering the dignity of her corpse when the safety of Walser is on the line. Are you absolutely certain there’s no way to stop this?”

  “Not with what we have. Perhaps if I had a powerful explosive, a drill-bit, and the ability to place it into the core of the crystal without blowing myself to smithereens...”

  That was impossible given how hot it was! It was already on the precipice of being too dangerous to approach. Genta was worried that they wouldn’t arrive at the museum in time to dispose of it before it became untouchable. He wracked his brain for answers but couldn’t find any. This was a manner of summoning Horr that he had never encountered before.

  Sloan wasn’t slacking on his homework. Genta couldn’t wrap his head around how he made so many advances in such a short span of time. Upon deeper reflection, he posited internally that Sloan would have had an easier time doing so if he was not opposed to violating his professional and personal ethics. Those types of human experiments were the great roadblock that kept the Book of Cambry from being a complete work.

  Everything else was passed down through legend and rumour. His ability to fill in the gaps based on the record of a surviving cultist was impressive regardless. This was no summoning circle drawn with human blood, and the demon he brought forth was intelligent and easily controlled. Layers upon layers of misconception, created by the believers, peeled away and refined into a sharpened point.

  Genta slammed his hand onto the panel and sighed.

  “He’s outdone me, but to what end?”

  “That is nothing to be proud of. It takes a cowardly person to destroy, and a braver one to be constructive.”

  Genta allowed her words to hang in the air between them. She was speaking from a deeply personal place.

  “We still have time to rectify our mistakes, so long as we keep drawing breath.”

  “That’s very optimistic of you.”

  The building shook. Genta and Veronica stumbled back and forth from the sheer force of it, and the heat emanating from the crystal burned even brighter than before. The hair on his arms stood on end as the electricity in the air became denser. The barrier was weakening even more, and that movement was putting the nail in the coffin of the museum’s main building.

  “We have to leave!” Veronica called out. She hopped over the debris and pulled Genta away from the modified Etherscope as it reached criticality. The reaction was out of control and would only get worse the longer it continued. Genta’s worst fears were being confirmed right in front of his eyes.

  Even if a horde of demons were waiting for them through the grand front doors, they had to go lest they risk being crushed by the falling masonry. It was a good thing they did – because only moments after they left the building a burst of red energy shattered the remaining windows and stripped the plaster from the walls. They staggered to a halt across the street and hid in a ruined storefront.

  “What’s happening?”

  “That crystal is reacting with the kursiela inside of the machine. The fabric between our world and the Veil is thinning, and that’s bringing more mana through the cracks and strengthening the storm. It’s a cycle. The only way to stop it is to destroy it.”

  The vibrations became even more violent. Some of the museum’s walls were seconds away from crumbling, and an orange light from inside suggested that the heat was starting to ignite the softer materials inside. A raging inferno would make the task of removing it impossible.

  “I really hope they get here soon!” Genta murmured.

  “For once I agree with you. Maria might be the only person who can stop this.”

  Veronica hated this feeling. She hated the powerlessness that gripped her heart, and she hated the realization that Maria was expected to run headfirst into that mayhem and solve their problem for them. The truth of her identity didn’t play into her fear – it would be the same no matter which soul resided within. This was not a bad dream, but a difficult reality.

  This was her failure.

  Everything she had ever done was for Maria’s sake, and for the sake of the other children who lived in Walser. She wanted to create a place where her daughter could always be safe, but even her best efforts failed to keep her away from the heart of the conflict. Not only that, but the Goddess herself was seemingly responsible for making a fool of her!

  Her fingers gripped the edge of the windowsill tight and her brow furrowed. She had killed people, maimed them, broken laws and violated her personal ethics, but standing there and waiting for her to arrive was the most difficult task she could recall...