Fire Heart (The Titans: Book One) (56 page)

“In addition, however, a malignant entity would have to pass through countless wards to get here. You did not feel them as we came because Borbos willed it. Had he not, however, even the Dragon King would have had a difficult time getting to this place alive.”

Will looked back at Borbos, who continued to stare into the pool's glassy depths. “What's he doing?” Clare whispered, echoing Will's thoughts.

“Creating a viewing plane, I believe,” said the Sea Spirit, and as if to add credence to his words the water began to bubble and froth at its center, and then rose in a twisting, swirling column, tracing little tendrils through the air as though questing for something. After a moment it spread out in a line, slowly filling out into the rough shape of a window pane.

The whole process took only a few moments, and when it was over the water hung suspended in the air like a sheet of glass, its edges wavy as though seen through heat-distorted air. Borbos turned back to them. “Now we can watch,” he said. “Without the constant fear of death, I mean.”

The water shimmered slightly, and then an image came slowly into focus.

It was a view of the City's base seen as though from the bow of a ship moored perhaps half a league away. The two colossal beasts continued their duel, sending water cascading into the air and shattering the pristine white coral into clouds of dust and razor-edged shards big enough to break a galleon in two. Great chunks of the City tumbled through the air, landing far off in the sea where they might as well have been pebbles in a very large pond.

But neither creature seemed to care about the destruction they were causing, so intent were they on utterly destroying each other. Will saw the Leviathan lunge forward and seize a mouthful of the Behemoth's flailing tentacles in its jaws, and then rip its head savagely to the side. Great gouts of blood jetted into the air from the tentacles' stumps, and the Behemoth screamed and writhed in pain. The Leviathan seemed to have gained the upper hand, but in the next instant the Behemoth lunged forward and wrapped its remaining tendrils around its opponent's stout neck. The tiny talons on its underside scrabbled at the Leviathan's skin, shredding its flesh and making it roar in pain, and the countless teeth in its flower-petal maw gnawed relentlessly at the Leviathan's throat.

The Leviathan's crab-like claws came up then, and it plunged them deep into the Behemoth's wormy body, the force of the blow tearing the tentacles from the Leviathan's neck and sending the Great Devourer crashing back into the ocean. The impact sent a wave high into the air, and the water crashed back down with enough force to destroy a small human city.

Will was awestruck. He had lived a life of such extreme violence that very little phased him anymore. But never before had he seen such rampant destruction, and his mind rebelled at the idea of such a force, much less two of them.
But I am just like them,
he thought.
Didn't Borbos say that I was the only thing besides the Leviathan that could stop the Behemoth?
He looked down at his hands as
though they were a stranger's.
How is it possible to fit all that power inside such a small body?

A screech of pain made Will return his gaze to the watery viewing pane, where the Leviathan had its jaws locked around the base of the Behemoth's head and was stabbing it repeatedly with its front limbs. The surface of the City, once pristine, was stained with dark smears of blood that continued to grow as the creatures tore into one another. The sea boiled and steamed with their gore, and the dark blue of the waves that crashed against the City's base had long ago given way to a light, frothy pink.

And still they fought.

“They're not going to stop,” Will said softly, and then realization struck him. “They're going to kill each other.” He turned to Borbos. “Aren't they?”

At first the Titan said nothing. He simply stared at the water with his arms folded across his chest and his jaw set in a look of rigid defiance. “Yes,” he finally whispered. “Yes, they will. Equally matched, they be. Once a fight gets underway, it be to the death. Always the same...always the same.” He heaved a heavy sigh. “But it be what the Leviathan was made for, so we can't be worrying too much, now, can we?” He gave Will a strained smile.

“So...” Clare said, disbelief in her eyes, “you're just...going to let the Leviathan die?”

Borbos nodded sadly, and Will saw tears glisten on his cheek.

“How can you do that?” Clare's voice was a whisper, and the disgust was plain in her words.

“My lady,” the Sea Spirit said softly, “this is its purpose. The Leviathan was created with the sole intention of being strong enough to keep the Behemoth from killing anything else. It is a martyr, a sacrifice for the greater good. This is how it has always been, and how it always will be.”

“Wait,” said Will, “you mean—?”

“Yes.” The Sea Spirit nodded, its golden eyes flashing. “Like us, the Leviathan will be born again. Like us, it never truly dies.”

“Like you, you mean,” Clare said softly. “I seem to be the only one around here who's going to disappear forever.”

The Sea Spirit said nothing—it simply stared at her, its expressionless face as alien and unreadable as the kelp it was made from. Will, for his part, looked away, unable to meet Clare's eyes. He wanted to say something to comfort her—but what could he?

The battle continued to rage in the watery window, with neither of the titanic beasts willing to give in. Blood hemorrhaged from the innumerable wounds that marred their bodies, splashing into the sea and splattering across the already crimson coral. The waves that crashed into the City's base had ceased long ago to wash the stains away, and left only cascades of diluted gore and gobbets of flesh in their wake. It tumbled down the smooth crags and cascaded back into the sea, where the process simply repeated itself in a never-ending cycle. Even through the window, even from so far away, their cries and bellows were deafening.

It was, as Borbos said, an equal battle to the end. Neither opponent fled, and for every wound one took, it gave one back to its foe. Will saw the Leviathan impale the Behemoth again, only to have one of its scything arms torn from its body in a shower of blood. It screamed in rage and pain and, with its remaining arm, lifted the Behemoth high into the air and slammed it against the side of the City, pinning it to the coral. Even at the City's center, Will was able to feel the tremor from the impact.

For a long time the two monsters remained thus, the Leviathan tearing with its savage jaws and the Behemoth scrabbling with its countless talons. The coral was stained dark with their blood, which flowed so freely now that it was a wonder neither of the combatants had died.

And then they did.

It was a slow process as they gradually weakened, but soon their movements turned sluggish and their cries quieted. The Leviathan gave one last, savage rip with its mighty jaws, and then it lay still. The Behemoth quivered, its tentacles twitching, and then its body fell limp against the side of the City. Nobody spoke. Tears ran freely down Borbos' face now, but his sadness was a silent one.

The first pink rays of the morning sun began to poke their faint fingers over the edge of the horizon,
shedding their glow across the carnage. The gulls were not far behind, and soon great flocks of them wheeled in the sky, their raucous cries filling the morning air as they went to feast on the bodies of the slain.

“Well,” Borbos finally said, his voice very quiet, “I suppose we should go find the main fleet. If it even still exists.”

He left without another word. Will shared a private look with Clare, and then they followed him back out into the dawn sunlight.

~

The merfolk and the water drakes were waiting for them in the cavern, but the gaiety the fish people had displayed before was long gone. There was such heartbreaking sadness in their faces that Clare wanted nothing more than to hold them. They looked like lost children, their eyes vacant and vapid with shock. As Clare and the others descended to the waves below, she caught sight of the mermaid who had kissed her before. What was her name? Mileena?

Can you hear me, Mileena?
she thought, unsure whether the merfolk's gift would still work above the surface. Her fingers went unconsciously to the kelp necklace at her throat; it was still pleasantly warm.

I can,
came the solemn response in her mind.
It is the only way we speak, after all. And you still bear the bihirit.
For an instant the mermaid's sad eyes met Clare's. Mileena looked away a moment later and said nothing.

Mileena, we'll make them pay,
Clare said.
I promise. They'll pay for all the terrible things they've done.

I know you will,
Mileena said, and she gave Clare a smile that failed to convey anything but sorrow.
But it will not change the fact that the Leviathan is dead.

Clare had no response. No consoling words came to mind. She looked away from the mermaid's pitiful gaze, and did not look back.

The water drakes swam up to the coral steps as Clare neared the sea's edge, and some of the luster in their golden eyes had been dulled by the strangely human sadness in them. She stepped onto the lowest platform and knelt down next to the drakes where the shallow surf ebbed and flowed around her ankles, the foam on its surface no longer white and pristine but pink, stained by the blood of monsters. She reached out and gently ran her fingers along the drakes' jaws; they nuzzled her palms, and a deep, soft purr rumbled from somewhere in their throats.

“Best be off,” Borbos said behind her. His voice sounded unnaturally exhausted and strained—but then, she couldn't blame him. She moved to sit on the edge of the coral and, after a brief period of awkward positioning, straddled the nearest drake and took hold of the spines along its crown. A moment later Will followed her lead. He, too, looked sad—defeated. She wished there was something she could say to comfort him, but as with Mileena, nothing came to her.

There were two soft splashes, and she swiveled at the waist to see Borbos and the Sea Spirit bobbing in the waves behind her. Borbos immediately struck out for the mouth of the cave, his body cutting through the waves with blinding speed. The merfolk followed close behind him, and the water drakes joined the throng as well. The sea churning around Clare's legs felt strangely different than it had before—almost as though it had grown denser, thicker, like syrup rather than...

No, wait,
she realized,
the last of the merfolk's gift must have worn off after we left the sea. This is what it feels like normally.
She sighed, somewhat disappointed. She had grown to enjoy moving so effortlessly through the water, if only for a short time. It had almost felt like she imagined flying must.

“I'd keep a tight grip,” Will said as though reading her thoughts. “I don't think we'll float if we fall off this time.”

The raucous cries of feasting gulls flooded her ears as they passed the mouth of the cave and moved
out into the dawn light. She looked to her right, knowing what she would see yet amazed nonetheless by the colossal forms that towered above her. Ruby blood still seeped and oozed from their wounds, leaking into the sea or drying on the coral where the water couldn't wash it away. And everywhere she looked, Clare could see gulls and countless other sea birds, all bobbing among the waves or circling through the air, darting in to pick pieces off of the Leviathan's corpse.

It was only the Leviathan that they ate, she realized—the Behemoth lay pinned against the coral unmolested, its foul stench wafting along the breeze and making Clare wrinkle her nose in disgust. Its worm-like body lay still, its many clawed legs and what remained of its tentacles hanging limply in the air.

“They aren't eating the Behemoth,” she said aloud, looking at Will, who nodded.

“It's hard to stomach pure evil, I imagine,” he said. “I guess the Leviathan never really stops helping the sea. Even dead, it's providing food. Look.” He pointed a short way off, where dozens of fins rose and fell gracefully from the waves as they made their slow, inexorable approach toward the City.

“Sharks,” Clare said with a shudder.

“Everything will have its chance,” Borbos said quietly as he swam along beside them. “Won't be long now—soon the Leviathan will be naught but bones, and those will tumble down to the bottom of the sea where some creature will make its home in them. Nothing will go to waste.”

Clare smiled softly. “I guess...I guess that's a good death, then, isn't it?” Borbos simply looked at her. “No matter what happens, it'll always be useful. And then, someday, it will be reborn and the cycle will begin again. I wish my situation was the same.”

Borbos looked at Will and said, “Lad, that be a wise girl you've got there. I'd hold on to that one.” Clare felt her cheeks redden, but she smiled all the same.

They picked up speed as they passed, and soon the City in the Waves was visible only as a white spire on the horizon. The sun had risen into the sky by then, and in the golden morning light the waves sparkled and shone as the sea churned, its calm waters belying the recent violence. It was a beautiful day, and despite the death of what for all intents and purposes had been a god, Clare felt a lightness in her heart. Will, she noticed, did as well—it was in the way he sat on his drake, his muscles relaxed and his lips ever so slightly curved in a ghost of a smile. He caught her staring at one point and smiled back at her. And for the moment, she almost forgot that yet another battle loomed on their horizon.