Franck
supposed he might be lost. He certainly
didn't know where he was and he was not entirely sure where he was going. He had no idea where anybody else was either
and, apart from the occasional Lakhmaspawn corpse, and the sad, torn remains of
Doctor Barkham he had found not long after leaving the scene of what could
possibly have been his own demise, there was nothing to indicate anyone else
had ever passed through these chambers at all.
It occurred to him that, given the circumstances, he really ought to be
worried and yet, for reasons he could not fathom, he was not and neither was he
concerned by his own lack of concern, which he imagined would have troubled him
on any other occasion. Instead he was
possessed of a mild curiosity, which led him to wonder and wander further
through the dual mazes of mind and matter.
In truth, it
felt as if he wasn't really doing the wandering at all, but was instead being
led by some benevolent presence, an invisible shepherd, and he the calm and
trusting sheep. As he passed, along
passages preceding corridors. corridors connecting rooms and rooms revealing
yet more passages, he found he was perfectly at ease with that.
Wherever I'm going, he thought, I'll get there when I need to be there. And step after curious step, he kept going.
Sarah had
never felt such pain. The energy running
through Frostfire's claws, into her neck and down through her body was more
intense than any feeling she had ever encountered in her life. It burned within her, a voracious,
all-embracing, yet never-consuming fire.
Every cell of her body was ignited by it, filled with an endless, awful
energy, and yet it left her rigid. She
could not move. It was not so much a paralysis
as a victory over her will. She was
almost certain she could move, if she really wanted to, but the force of will
and energy required to do so would be too much amidst such conflagrant
opposition.
And yet...
There was a
different pain, a more complex, emotional pain, a web of feelings ensnaring her
consciousness, which seemed altogether worse.
Frostfire, her
friend, had betrayed her. It's true that
it had taken her a long time to trust him, but by the time she, Diana and
Dimsun had lost him on the ocean floor she had learned to do that and so much
more. She had begun to respect him, even
and sympathise with the revenge for which he had captured and manipulated
her. In this way his betrayal seemed
both inevitably and unbearably shocking.
And just.
She had betrayed first, after all. Was it not she who had chosen Doctor Barkham
over her friends, out of the misguided belief that the cruel scientist would be
able to save the world and reunite her with Ellis? She had been over her reasons again and again
since her confrontation with Diana and they never amounted to so much as a
fragment of excuse. She had betrayed and
thus it was she felt so wretched.2
And I'm supposed to be a new person now,
she asked herself amidst the flames,
isn't that what Thomas told me? A new,
treacherous me... How did I let it get
so wrong?
And thus the
fire continued, and Sarah burned within it and within her own miserable guilt,
until Frostfire began to move.
She saw it
instantly, for, unlike with all the others watching, only she was close enough
to see clearly through the intensity of the energy. His eyes burned cold as ever, but there was a
determination in them which put the flames around them to shame as he began to
twist his head to turn and face Tiberius Von Spektr.
“I… beg… to…
differ!” His voice, strained with the
difficult of it all, was nonetheless powerful and devastating, sending chills
through Sarah's burning frame.
And then, as
if it were easier now he had defeated the energy once, he turned back to face
her.
“There’s… a
reason… I picked… this fight,” he said through gritted teeth, his eyes
conveying whole levels of meaning Sarah felt were just outside of her grasp,
“and it… wasn’t… just…" - was he pleading with her? For the first time since she had felt his
claws around her neck these seemed the eyes of her friend and companion and not
her traitor enemy - "for the… challenge…”
Challenge. Why on earth would she be a challenge? He was a beast, tall, roped with wiry muscle,
sheathed in stone, stronger than she could ever be except when-
Oh, she
thought. I'm so stupid, she
thought. He's not speaking to Sarah from
Larksborough, she thought. He wants the
Slayer.
So she gave
her up.
It was easier
than it had ever been before. The
intensity of the situation, of her pain and anguish, all fed into it and, just
like that, the energy was at the surface, waiting to be used. She could feel the glow of it suffusing her
skin. Suddenly Frostfire's grip didn't
seem so strong, and neither was the fire and fear so paralysing. She raised her arms, relishing in the freedom
of movement, and then, on in smooth, quick, knife-like motion, brought her hand
down on Frostfire's wrist, felt something behind those slate scales give and
then she was falling.
She knew this
would happen, and yet she still felt an instant of panic as the pull of gravity
seemed to lessen and she felt her stomach rising within her. A quick glance down revealed the almost
infinite depth of the core, a sight which made that falling feeling even worse,
but she could also see the many levels which it opened out on, and the pipes
extending from it, the structural supports - in short, the opportunities.
One hand
reached out on instinct, instantly grabbing onto a section of support whilst
the other swung out to catch a section of piping. It didn't matter that it was hot: she held
onto it for barely even half a second, merely using it to swing herself onward to the next handhold. Soon she was on the dark stone wall, her
hands reaching over the glowing lines, finding the cracks and grooves that
would support her weight on little more than intuition, and yet knowing they
were there nevertheless. And then she
was nearly at the top, a single burst of speed and strength in her legs had her
up in the air, somersaulting once to land, perfectly balanced before an
astonished audience.
"Sarah,
I..." Ellis began to say, but she had no time to listen. Already Tiberius' was looking worried, and it
was well it should be.
First she
charged towards Frostfire, moving faster than she ever had before, colliding
with the force of a wrecking ball at a brick wall. The beam of energy resisted, trying to hold
on to it's prey, clawing through his body and the many points from which the
coloured lights were emerging, but Sarah's strength was greater and, after an
epic struggle, which lasted for nano seconds, the Spiketail tumbled out of the
beam, Sarah passed through it briefly, unharmed and the furious assault on
Ember ended, just like that.
Frostfire
stumbled a few metres to crash against a wall, a cloud of smoke and ash fuming
off him, clearing slowly to reveal blackened holes in his natural armour where
the energy had burst free. Sarah glanced
at him with pity - he seemed so suddenly diminished - then turned the fury of
her gaze upon Tiberius, who himself was staring at Frostfire and then at her,
burning with psychotic rage.
"Do you
have any idea what you have done?" he shouted, his voice alternating pitch
and grating intensity, almost with each word.
"Do you know the resources I expended making sure he was
ready? That the crystals I had imbedded
in his scales were one of a kind?"
He clenched his fists until blood began to spill out between his
fingers. "You've ruined him, ruined
everything!"
He opened his
palms very suddenly, apparently oblivious to the blood spilling on the floor,
and pointed towards Sarah.
"Kill
her," he commanded and a wave of Lakhmaspawn flowed forth from the
corridor behind to blot him and the other Noble Society members from sight.
Sarah
stretched her muscles and got to work.
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