Last Dragon Standing (Heartstrikers #5)(37)
“Where is she?” Julius asked.
Marci was wondering the exact same thing. She still didn’t buy Raven’s story about Algonquin not being in her vessel. Spirits were always in their vessels. The hollows at the bottom of the Sea of Magic were the cups that held the magic that made them sentient. Even during the drought, they’d been in there, asleep. Algonquin’s vessel was the outline of her soul, as much a part of her as her water. If she wasn’t inside, where else could she be?
“There,” Raven said, looking up at the darkness that filled the sky. “The Leviathan isn’t just consuming her lakes. He’s consumed her. She’s withdrawn completely inside him, and there’s no way we’re getting her out.”
“There has to be a way.”
“Not without getting eaten yourself,” Raven said. “I know. I just tried. Why do you think I’m in this shape?” He lifted his massive head. “When I realized what had happened, I tried to bash my way inside, but he’s armored himself in Algonquin’s magic.”
“Then you should step aside and let someone bigger try bashing,” Amelia suggested.
“It’s not just a problem of power,” Raven snapped. “Out here, the Leviathan can’t eat us until he’s finished off Algonquin and gotten big enough to fend off the planar defenses, but the inside of his shell is his turf. It’s like being in a spirit’s vessel. He controls everything within his own domain, which means he can eat you at any time without worrying about tipping his hand to the rest of the plane, and as I just learned, his teeth are very sharp.”
Raven lifted his wing, showing them the huge chunk that had been bitten out of the top. “That’s why your plan isn’t going to work,” he went on, turning back to Julius. “The Leviathan might not be done sucking up her water, but Algonquin’s finished. She’s not technically dead yet because of the way spirits work, but she’s buried herself so deep inside her End that she might as well be. Even if you could somehow beat your way to her, the Leviathan would devour you before you could say a word.”
Julius’s face crumpled, and Marci’s heart went out to him. “It was a good plan,” she whispered, reaching out to squeeze his hand.
“Parts of it are still a good plan,” Amelia said. “I was never on board with talking to Algonquin, but burning tentacles is still very much on the table.”
“Agreed,” said General Jackson. “We all die the moment the Leviathan finishes off what’s left of Algonquin’s water, so slowing the draining of the lakes should be our number-one priority. I’ve already got every military jet in North America on standby. Add in Heartstriker and the Golden Empire, and we should have enough air supremacy to stop those tentacles cold.”
Raven shifted his huge clawed feet. “Not to be a naysayer, but I don’t think that’s going to be enough. When I was trying to find a way inside, I got a look at just how big the Leviathan’s body actually is. I couldn’t do a fly-by in the real world due to the still out-of-control magic, but I did nip into the Heart of the World to take a peek through Shiro’s scrying circle.”
Marci had forgotten all about that. “Of course!” she cried, smacking her forehead. “Why didn’t I think of that?”
“Don’t feel bad,” Raven said. “I have infinitely more experience with being tricky than you do. Anyway, the point is, I finally got a clear look at our enemy’s new guise, and it’s big.”
“How big?” Emily asked.
“Apocalyptically,” the spirit replied, scratching a quick map in the frozen dirt with his claw. “The Leviathan’s body spans the entire Great Lakes region. There’s tentacles from the tip of Lake Superior all the way to the eastern edge of Lake Ontario. The water alone is over ninety-five thousand square miles of territory, and he’s covering the land in between as well. That’s seven states with a sky full of giant flying End Times. Not squirrelly little East Coast states, either. Midwestern ones.”
Myron put his head in his hands. “Then we’re finished,” he said quietly. “Even if everything was ready to go right now, there’s no way we can guard that much territory.”
A horrible silence fell after that. Everyone, even Amelia, was looking at the ground. The only ones who didn’t look as though they’d just heard the drums for their own execution were the seers. Bob didn’t even seem to be paying attention. He was just sitting on the ground with his eyes closed, the lids fluttering rapidly as his eyes moved behind them. Marci dearly hoped that meant he was searching the new possibilities for an outcome where they didn’t all die, but he could have been lucid dreaming for all she knew. The Black Reach, on the other hand, was standing to the side with his arms folded as if he were merely an impartial observer to the end of this drama, which, considering he could leave at any time, Marci supposed he was.
“We can still run,” the construct said when the silence had stretched too long.
“You can run,” Amelia snarled. “We’re still screwed.”
“No one needs to run,” Julius said firmly, turning to smile at Marci. “We’ve got the best minds on the planet working together. We can figure this out.”
Marci blushed at the implied compliment, which was as sweet as it was inaccurate. She’d become Merlin because she had the right attitude for the Heart of the World, not because she was a particularly brilliant mage. That was Myron’s job, and he looked just as stumped as everyone else. It wasn’t that she didn’t have her moments, but for all of her academic aspirations, at the end of the day, Marci was just a regular old Yellow Pages mage. Aside from Ghost, the bulk of her actual experience with magic was in curse breaking, wards, and banishing obnoxious minor spirits like the female tank badger she’d pulled off her and Julius’s last paying client before—