Cloud Rebel (R-D #3)(72)

*

High Council Meeting

Larentii Homeworld

Breanne

"Now we see why Larentii do not interfere," one stood and spoke.

"Yet the Wise Ones are here, and they say to stay the course," Kalenegar responded. It surprised me that he'd listened to the Wise Ones in this matter. His father, Ferrigar, would have blown them off as he often did.

Turning my head, I studied the five Larentii in question. All were resolute in this—as was I. A part remained to be played and as sad as it could be, it would likely prove necessary.

Too many outcomes depended on it. Outcomes that had already happened once, but as these events were taking place in our past, it could affect our present as well as our future.

Even as we stood here, discussing it.

Stephen Hawking said, "The past, like the future, is indefinite and exists only as a spectrum of possibilities." He was right.

Only one here knew of my presence—Kalenegar. The others—it was best they didn't know. Kal and I—we'd already had a discussion, and at the end included Nefrigar and Valegar.

Too many things were uncertain, and Kal's word would be final in the matter. I was merely present to see what the others had to say.

I wanted to sigh, too, for the hard, hard road that lay ahead. Not just for us, but for others.

Six months had passed since Wisdom had approached me to make his suggestion.

Yes, many of those gods already dead in our current existence had left their own version of landmines behind, to trip us up. I suspected the drug was a part of that, in addition to other, less obvious things.

Wisdom had pointed to one such. I'd been surprised by his suggestion, yet saw the sense in it before long. Little did I know, then, how it would become intertwined with our current dilemma.

Together, he and I—Wisdom and Love—had exerted our power.

What had been designed to destroy now held a desire for the opposite. We couldn't erase the rogue god's influence from the whole of the intended weapon, but we'd neutralized as much as we could.

That made me smile. Wisdom and I—we'd laid claim to it. It was ours. We would protect it as much as we could, but it had become its own, guided by its own sensibilities. Yes, we felt a bit of pride from our efforts.

I merely wanted everything else to turn out as well.

I no longer knew if that were possible.

"We cannot destroy the Lyristolyi," another Larentii spoke. "It violates everything we do and have done as a race to even consider it."

*

Corinne

He's gone. Those two words whirled continuously through my mind as we landed in Auggie's office and I saw what Auggie had seen in Ilya's face.

No, Ilya wasn't dead. Not physically. I saw the look in his eyes, though, courtesy of Auggie's memory. Inside, Ilya was gone. I couldn't read what he'd been obsessed to do, and likely the original obsession to destroy me had manifested again.

Perhaps it was similar to fictional characters learning that the one they loved had been taken over by a monster, or had become a zombie.

Either way, the result was the same.

Either way, that one was essentially dead.

Val attempted to massage my neck. I moved away from him. Panic threatened to overwhelm me for a moment as the image of Jen's death settled in my brain. A useless, pointless death.

Phillips merely wanted to stretch his credibility. He understood how much he could influence the current President by showing how he could command anyone to do anything.

Since he was Sirenali, there wasn't any way the strongest and most talented among us could find him, either, unless we found a way to track him by mundane means.

"We took bloodhounds to the site," Auggie said as if reading my mind. "Phillips and company didn't leave in any of the usual ways," he added.

"Because Ilya can now fold space," I muttered. I'd thought to protect him. I'd done pretty much the opposite. By handing a powerful weapon to a Phillips clone, he now appeared to be on track to become as bad as the original.

Ilya is gone, ran through my head again. I should have pulled him away when Granville started down this mad path. Jen and Brett, too. Jen was dead. Ilya as good as. Brett—who knew what they'd tell him to do, or whether they'd just kill him out of hand and be done with it.

Farrell—also dead. Norian Keef and Lendill Schaff, both dead. Hundreds of thousands dead across the globe, thanks to some interfering Lyristolyi.

Fuck Earth.

"I need some time," I said, fighting panic yet again. "In the Archives. Will your father mind?" I turned to Val.

"He will not mind, dearest," Val said gently.

"Good." I bent time and folded space, traveling to the Archives of the future without waiting for Val.

*

In the Archives is a section that only a few have ever visited. Most don't realize it exists.

I'd found it during my yearlong stay, waiting for Kalenegar of the Larentii to decide my fate.

Perhaps my fate had already been decided, I just didn't realize it at the time.

I studied the bodies—three of them—that lay on stone slabs in this hidden portion of the Archives.

These weren't real—doppelgangers, perhaps, but certainly not the originals.

These replicas of the Three—Strength, Wisdom and Love, lay as if ready to awaken at any moment. They'd served a purpose once, and like all things in the Archives, they'd been kept, pristine and without decay, in these positions.