Boreal and John Grey Season 2 (32 page)

Ella stood up, heat rising in her chest. “Stop barking at him, all right? Back off.”

“Aesir,” Finn whispered. “Loki. Dark Elves.”

Odd thing was, she didn’t recall seeing Dark Elves in Finn’s memory. Or the spider he’d talked about — Loki.

“And then what happened?” Chang pressed. “Did you escape?”

Finn shook his head, ash-blond hair sticking to his sweaty face. “Can’t remember.”

Ella reached for him then, unable to stand the distance any longer. She put her arm around his back and he drew a sharp breath. Tension drummed through his frame; then he relaxed against her.

“Your kind used to do that, you know.” Chang put his hands flat on the shiny table. “Hurt John Grey to activate his powers. How did the Dark Elves know who you were?”

Good question.

“They didn’t. They were testing candidates to find the right one,” Ella said. “I heard them discuss it. I’m not sure why they let him go, but I think they decided he wasn’t the one because he couldn’t open Gates back then.”

A shiver went through Finn and she tightened her hold around his shoulders.

“Fine. So back to our topic.” Chang’s English was perfect. Had to be his native language. “John Grey must have a Stabilizer. So the epics tell us. The Stabilizer is the key to his magic.”

“Yeah,” Ella muttered, feeling defeated. “Only the Stabilizer isn’t issued with a manual. I don’t know how to fix this.”

“
You
’re the Stabilizer?” Chang blinked.

Ella glanced down at her dark sweater, visible through her unzipped old jacket, and her black cargo pants, the combat boots, scratched and dirty. Okay, should she feel slighted?

“She
is
the Stabilizer,” Dave confirmed, his voice oddly gentle.

She didn’t want his support or pity, or whatever it was. “This isn’t helping any, you know.” She looked right at Chang. “Is there anything you can tell us that might bring Finn’s memories back or did we come here for nothing?”

“That’s a funny thing you ask,” Chang said, smiling thinly. “I thought I made it clear. Only the Stabilizer can access John Grey’s memories, and that’s apparently you.”

“Okay, fine. But Dave said you could at least tell us about the Divine Frenzy.”

Chang nodded thoughtfully. “The gift of the Aesir. Did they inject you, elf?”

Inject?

Finn shook his head, his breathing coming faster. “Can’t fucking remember.” He glared down at his hands, splayed on the table.

“I’m pretty sure they injected him with a paralytic. Ettin blood. I saw the lines going into his back.” Ella frowned. “But that’s not what you mean, is it?”

Dave scratched at the ever-present stubble on his cheek. “Finn? Does this bring back any memories?”

Finn looked up, his gaze slightly dazed. “No.”

Okay, enough of this. “What is Frenzy?” She leaned over the table. “How does it work? Explain, Dave. Now.”

He lifted his hands in mock surrender, his eyes hard. “It’s a substance exuded by the skin of the Aesir in instances of danger. They secrete it, and they store it and use it on others. The secretion produces hallucinations.”

Finn’s gaze snapped up.

“Does this mean...?” Ella licked her lips, her mouth suddenly dry. “His memories aren’t real?” 

“The two main memories — the cave and the plain — seem to run in a loop,” Chang said. “That’s a good indication of Frenzy-induced hallucinations.”

Finn made a small sound in the back of his throat, halfway between a groan and a whimper. “I remember shooting them,” he said, his voice a painful rasp. “I remember
wanting
it.”

“Yeah,” Dave said. “But if you experience something as reality, then that’s the way you’ll remember it. That’s exactly the beauty of the Frenzy.”

God.

Ella closed her eyes briefly. Ignored how tight with hope her chest was. She turned to Chang. “Is there a way to know which memories are real?”

Change rubbed his chin and glanced at Dave. “Worth a shot?”

“It might help him remember the rest,” Dave said flatly.

“Fine.” Chang turned to Finn. “The secretion allows a connection between an Aesir and the victim, and permits manipulation of the ‘trip’ it produces.”

“So if they did inject him with the hallucinogen...” Ella frowned. “If they implanted memories and make him believe they were real, how can we tell?”

“I have no way of verifying what I’m about to tell you,” Chang said, “but Frenzy seems to lend a special effect to the perceived memory, if you know what to look for.” He steepled his hands on the table. “Look out for red dots.”

A beat of silence passed.

“Excuse me?” Ella looked from Chang to Dave, her mouth hanging open. “Are you serious? Red dots where?”

Finn leaned forward, a flicker of hope lighting up his eyes.

“Anywhere,” Chang said. “Where you wouldn’t expect them. In people’s eyes. In the air. In water. Flashing red dots.” He gave her a long, hard look. “If you’re the Stabilizer, you should be able to spot them.”

Oh good. Put some pressure on a girl, why don’t you?

Flashing dots. At least she wouldn’t mix them up with blood spatters. Bile rose in her throat and she forced it back down. “All right. Got it.” She rose from her chair and reached for Finn’s hand. “Time to go.”

Time to dream.

And hunt little red dots.
Hell.
She would’ve laughed.

But not today.

***

The plain was still, the sky white with clouds carrying more snow, unleashing it in small flutters that spiraled down.

Ella climbed to her feet, brushed snow off her red coat. The mountain slopes glittered as if strewn with diamonds and a gorge stretched in the distance, narrow and deep. A snake flew overhead, followed by a swarm of white birds barely visible against the clouds — like a comet’s icy tail.

The landscape seemed to be breathing — in and out — the air pulsing.

She was there hunting — but for what? Thoughts chased each other in her head — she knew this place, knew the drill, knew she had a mission — but no concept came on top.

Ella turned in a circle, hands in the pockets of her red coat. Where was Finn?

Then she saw him. He stood maybe thirty feet away, holding a shiny long gun in one hand. His long grey coat flapped around his calves and his pale hair fluttered against his back.

Funny.
She felt no breeze.

Is this real?

She frowned at the thought. What did it mean?

Her mission. She was there to prove something. What was it? Lucid dreaming had never been her forte.

As she walked toward Finn, the piled snow crunching under her black boots, she saw a line of people walk by, barely visible with their silvery clothes and colorless hair. They were heading toward the face-shaped tower to the far left.

Finn seemed to be watching them, too. He stood still, a ghost in the light snowfall. Shafts of weak sunlight struck the plain, turning it into a sea of gems. When bright lines flickered on the backs of his hands, he became all but invisible amidst the myriad reflections.

Then he moved, raising the gun in one fluid movement and taking aim.

“Finn, no!”

Before she could even move, gunshots rang, one after the other, tearing through the quiet. For a moment, she thought the color of the snowflakes shifted to crimson, then it was again all white and clean.

She approached the pile of bodies, her limbs heavy, and stopped. Pale faces, delicate features, slack mouths — blue-grey eyes, like Finn’s, staring unblinking at the overcast sky.

He held the gun loosely in one hand; forgotten. He tilted his head to the side, a frown drawing his features tight, as if he couldn’t figure out something.

A speck of red hovered in mid-air, flashing.

She reached out a hand as another dot appeared, a touch of color in the monochromatic world. Pulsing, calling her.

There was something... something she should know about these dots.

But what?
“It means... it means it’s not real. This isn’t real.”

As if to prove her words true, a blizzard blew out of the blue. The mountains began to crumble like sandcastles, everything turning to white.

“Finn!” She reached for him — and like thin clay his form exploded into pieces, the shards traveling in slow trajectories through the blinding snow drifts—

The eddy picked up speed and the wind rose, flinging her into darkness. Her back crashed into a wall and she slid down, trying to catch her breath.

She was in the dank cave, the air suffocating, rank with sweat, blood, piss and moisture. Her view of Finn was obstructed by the Aesir commander in his glowing armor, and all she could think about was, it hadn’t been real. The events on the plain had never happened. Finn hadn’t killed his friends.

She had to tell him.

The commander aside as she got to her feet.

Finn hung over the stone table, long hair hiding his face, his breathing harsh. A creature moved in front of her, forcing her to sidestep once more — an Ettin, its long tail scraping on the floor.

The Aesir commander spoke a few more words, eying the creature with eyes red as flames. He fiddled with the lines running from the machine hanging over Finn, making colors flash on the device.

She walked around the table, her gaze drawn in spite of herself to the rows of blades jutting out of Finn’s back, the rivulets of crimson running down his sides. Familiar horror that never got better.

“Can you see me?” She stood in front of Finn and stroked his cheek, cupped his face in her hands and lifted it. He groaned, lashes flickering. “You never killed those elves on the plain, Finn. It wasn’t true.”

Finn’s grey eyes opened.

And in them were dots, red like blood drops that seemed to pulse.

“Not real,” she whispered and let her hand fall. Finn’s head drooped forward and above, in the air, another dot hovered, flashing like a beacon.

Ella took a step back.

This part wasn’t real either - the cave, the Aesir, the knives, the tubes running from the machine to his body — but what about the scars on his back? How could this part not be real?

What
was
real?

The cave began to crumple around them, the forms of the Aesir commander and the Ettin cracking like glass.

Real or not real, Ella cried out when the floor caved in and a dark vortex sucked her down.

Then it was still and quiet.

Emptiness. Darkness. Starry space.

Wait, no.
Those weren’t stars.

A long dim hall, its vaulted ceiling studded with lights. Doors opened on either side and she could hear the whirring of machines.

A faint brilliance emanated from the other end. Silhouettes moved against the light — massive shapes, smaller ones flitting around them, sporting leathery wings that sometimes spread.
Dark elves?

She started walking, icy fingers of fear curling around her spine. She had a bad feeling about this.

Then again, what was new? You sucked in the fear, turned it into a fiery ball of anger and kept moving. Nothing else to do.

Time to see the truth.

The hulking figures of the Aesir blocked her view until she was almost at the other end of the hall.

It was then she saw the shimmering web and the nightmarish creature weaving it. The giant spider had a humanoid head and arms, though the fingers were black and thin like long nails.

Loki
.

The spider moved inside the web, shiny thread coming from its mouth, its legs manipulating it, wrapping it around something, a cocoon that hung in the air, suspended from the web.

Not a cocoon. A body.

Oh, hell, no.

She approached, taking in the threads wrapped around the limbs, bands of white around the legs, the torso, the arms, leaving the head free to hang forward, long blond hair tumbling like a curtain, hiding the face.

But she knew every inch of that body, the line of that jaw, the scarred hands hanging from their shiny bonds, the graceful back.

She took a horrified step back. On either side of his spine jutted thick, glass-like needles, long as her hand, attached to lines that weaved through the web. While Ella watched, they vibrated in various colors, from deep blue to yellow — or maybe that was liquid passing through them, dripping into Finn’s body.

Behind the web, a slender woman stood, talking low to an Aesir dressed in glittering armor. A diadem of spikes crowned her fair head.

Well, what do you know.
Queen Adramar supervising in person the breaking of candidates for the role of John Grey.

Anger simmered in Ella’s blood, growing hotter with every second that passed, watching the liquid running down the lines, entering Finn’s body.