Calamity (Reckoners, #3)

Questions I would probably never see answered. My single regret was that I hadn’t said goodbye to Megan. I would have liked one last, farewell kiss.

My name is David Charleston.

I clicked the button.

And I kill Epics.

The bomb detonated.





THE explosion ripped through the glass space station, shattering it to pieces. The heat and force hit me in an instant, then curved around me. It streamed into Calamity’s outstretched palm, sucked like water through a straw.

It was over in an eyeblink. Behind me, the station reknit itself, glass forming back together, resealing.

I stood like an idiot, clicking the button again and again.

“You thought,” Calamity said without looking at me, “that my own power could destroy me? I suppose there would be a poetry to that. But I am master of the powers, David. I know them all, in their intricacy. Yes, I could tell you how Ildithia works. Yes, I could explain what Megan does in jumping to other realms—both core possibilities and ones ephemeral. But I am truly immortal. None of the powers could harm me, not permanently.”

I sank to the floor. The strain of it all overwhelmed me. The fight with Prof. Being stolen away by Obliteration. Pressing that button and being prepared to die.

“I’ve wondered if I should simply tell them,” Calamity mused, and turned to me. “You should understand that you need to destroy yourselves. But you see, I am not supposed to interfere. Even the small infractions—like being forced to make devices for your assault on Sharp Tower—worry me. It is against our way, though maintaining my cover required it.”

“Calamity, you’re already interfering. Deeply. You make them go mad! You make them destroy!”

He ignored me.

Sparks…how could I get him to see? How could I show him that he was causing the darkness and destruction, that men wouldn’t take to it as naturally as he claimed?

“You are worthless, as a whole,” he said softly. “You will destroy yourselves, and I will bear witness. I will not shirk my duty as others have. We are to watch, as is our calling. But I must not interfere, not again. The acts of youth can be forgiven. Though I was never truly a child, I was new. And your world is a shock. A dreadful shock.” He nodded, as if convincing himself.

I forced myself to stand. Then I slipped my gun from its holster on my leg.

“Your answer to everything, David Charleston?” Calamity said with a sigh.

“Worth a try,” I said, raising the gun.

“I contain the very powers of the universe. Do you understand that? They are all mine. I am what you call a High Epic a thousand times over.”

“You’re a monster either way,” I said. “Divine powers don’t make you a god, I guess. They make you a bully who happens to have the biggest gun.”

I pulled the trigger. The gun didn’t even fire.

“I removed the powder,” Calamity noted. “Nothing you can possibly do—whether the result of Epic powers or the craftiness of men—can hurt me.” He hesitated. “You, however, have no such protections.”

“Um…,” I said.

Then I ran.

“Really?” he asked after me. “This is what we’re doing?”

I tore out of the room, scrambling back the way I’d come, which was tough considering that this place had been made for people who moved in freefall, not people who walked.

I reached the room where I’d first arrived. Dead end.

Calamity sprang into existence near me.

I swallowed, my mouth dry. “Noninterference, right?”

“Of course, David,” Calamity said. “Though you did break the station. I needn’t save you from…the natural result of your actions. This place can be so fragile.” He smiled.

I lunged for a handgrip on the floor—just in time, as a large hole opened in the side of the room. The wind howled.

“Goodbye, David Charleston,” Calamity said, strolling over to kick at my fingers.

Light flashed in the room.

Then someone punched Calamity square in the face, sending him sprawling. The rushing of air stopped, and I gasped in a huge breath, looking up at the newcomer.

Prof.

He wore his black lab coat and no longer bore the vacant look that had been in his eyes when I’d left him. It was replaced by an expression of determination and sheer grit.

“You,” Calamity said, sprawled on his back. “I reclaimed the powers from you!”

Prof pulled apart his lab coat. There, strapped to his chest, was the vest that Knighthawk had made, quickly repaired, motivators replaced.

“Useless!” Calamity said. “If I reclaimed them, that shouldn’t work. It…I…” He looked, befuddled, at the forcefield on the wall, which glowed green.

Prof offered me his hand.

I let out a long sigh of relief. “How do you feel?” I asked, taking the hand.

“Haunted,” he whispered. “Thank you for bringing me back. I hate you for it, David. But thank you.”