For just a moment, a glimmer of hope hung in my mind; Jackaby still could not be harmed. Perhaps the Dire King did not realize the power of the gem? Perhaps this would be Jackaby’s chance to snatch the upper hand!
My hopes crumpled with Jackaby’s body. He collapsed to the floor of the control stage at the feet of the dark king. My head reeled. It wasn’t possible! How?
And then Alina stepped forward. Her shivering, frightened affectations had ceased. She sank down on one knee in front of the Dire King and held up her hand. In it was clutched the gleaming red gem.
I felt sick as realization struck, and the world spun. Alina had betrayed us.
Alina hadn’t been trying to pull Jackaby out of harm’s way. She had been stealing Hafgan’s shield from his pocket. The gem glinted as the Dire King accepted her offering. He put a pale hand on her shoulder as he held the stone up in the light. It was a perfect match for his ruby red eyes.
Chapter Thirty
I ran numbly to the edge of the tower, where I would be out of the Dire King’s line of sight.
I closed my eyes and tried to slow my heartbeat. Jackaby was down. Our army was losing. Alina had betrayed us. And I was alone. I could believe in multiple worlds, but perhaps not in a world in which I could take on an invulnerable evil king and his minions all by myself.
I opened my eyes slowly. I was going to be as good as I could be, even if I was not good enough. I gripped the black blade in my shaking fist.
Every step up the exposed stairway was agonizing. Every flurry of rock dust that trickled down to earth felt like an avalanche. Every shadow felt like the Dire King looming over my shoulder.
By the time I reached the upper landing and summoned the courage to peek up over the top, the Dire King had already latched Jackaby into restraints. I could see my employer’s battered coat rising and falling with shallow breaths. The knit hat—or possibly sundries bag—lay in a lumpy pile on the floor.
“Sir,” I whispered. He did not react.
Darkness swept past me and I froze. The Dire King stepped up to the controls. From where I was hiding, I could see only the sharp peaks of his wicked crown. “Welcome back, Seer. I know that you are awake. You can stop pretending. I can sense your mind.”
Jackaby groaned.
“Everything is in place, Seer. The world is ready to be whole again. Your eyes are all we need.”
“Ungh,” Jackaby croaked. “Thanks, but no thanks. I’ll pass on the multiglobal cataclysm. Eschatology was never my favorite subject anyway. The apocalypse always seemed a bit grim.”
“I said we need your eyes, Seer. Not your permission.”
Jackaby turned his head, attempting to get a good look at the king, but couldn’t seem to manage it. “You couldn’t break Eleanor,” he said icily. “You won’t break me.”
“Ah, but that is the glory of science. You humans are so inventive. The things you’ve dreamed up to circumnavigate simple spells and common curses. I’ve studied. Eleanor’s death taught us more than you can imagine about the nature of your special gift. I have corrected. You will find my noumenoneum expedites the process marvelously now.”
“Well.” Jackaby sniffed. “That is a terrible name. It sounds as though you’ve got a dab of peanut butter stuck to the roof of your mouth. Noo-meh-nom-nom-nom.”
“Feel free to keep talking.” The king pulled a switch, and the wide lenses over Jackaby’s face realigned. “It makes no difference to me.”
“Fine. Okay.” Jackaby swallowed. “You might crack my egg. You might not. Even if you do manage it, you’ll have to find your way around. Bit of a mess up there. It will take time, and the armies of the Annwyn are on their way as we speak—”
The Dire King chuckled. “The Seelie army is destroyed,” he said calmly. “And I am not concerned about dwarves and elves. Hold on tight, now. This might tickle.”
“Unnngh.” Jackaby shuddered. His eyes clenched. The Dire King was digging into his mind.
Fight him, I thought. Fight him. I recalled too well the periods when the Dire King had infiltrated my mind. I woke up dizzy and confused, learning only afterward about what I had done—what he had done in my skin. Anger rose hot in my chest.
Jackaby suddenly lay still. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes.
“Amazing,” said a voice that was not Jackaby’s. “Truly breathtaking. I can see the patterns, the powers at play. I can see how the veil was made. I can see how it can be unmade. Alina.”
“I am here.” I heard her voice from above me, but I could not see her behind the control bank.
“The fluctuator controls. Are you ready?”
“I’m ready, my lord.”
“The large dial at the top, turn it ten degrees.”
The hum of the machine changed pitch ever so slightly.
“No. Back two degrees. There. Now the fine adjustor below it. Five degrees. One more. Stop. Yes—it’s aligning! It’s beautiful! Now the polyphase alternator—that’s the controls on the opposite panel.”
I could hear Alina throwing switches and adjusting dials. The thrum of the machine was louder now, pulsing in my ears.
“It is done,” said the voice out of Jackaby’s lips at last. And his head sagged. The Dire King had left his mind. “You performed well, little dog,” he said from his own body. I still couldn’t see his face, but something about his voice was familiar. “Now move aside.”
Alina stepped abruptly in front of me and I panicked. I tried to slide out of view before she looked down at me, and my foot slipped on the step. I was suddenly standing on nothing at all. I fell. Before I could get my wits about me enough to even scream, I was caught hard in the gut by a thick stone, floating weightlessly in midair. I clung to it desperately. The stone trembled and rolled, but it held my weight as it continued to drift, floating silently under the landing.
“Did you hear something?” Alina said above me. I held my breath.
And then gears ground into motion and the tower was filled with noise. The device below me, the metal tank, began to swivel upward on its massive arm.
“I saw you,” Jackaby moaned. “You looked inside my head. And I looked inside yours.”
“Tsk, tsk,” chided the king.
“I saw a battle—from a long time ago. A rift between factions of fair folk.”
“There were many.”
“This one was a duel between kings. I was watching it from a distance. I saw Arawn and Hafgan, the Fair King and the Dire King. Hafgan was wearing the black crown and holding a black spear. He lost. Arawn killed him. The crown fell to earth.”
“This is history. It is well known,” said Alina.
“Did you know that Lord Arawn hesitated?” said Jackaby. “When it was over, he looked mortified by what he had done. His face—there was something very human about his eyes. As the Dire King lay dying, he beckoned Arawn close. He whispered something to him. He pressed something into his hand, which Arawn tucked away with a shaking hand. The crowd rushed in and soon Lord Arawn was pulled away. His people were celebrating, but he did not look proud. He looked sad and frightened.”
“Why should he not look proud?” Alina asked.