Portia (4 page)

A pack of Void demons burst into view. The monsters are humanoid and huge, with skin that drips black ooze. They’ve creepy holes for eyes and oversized hands with extra-long claws. Time seems to slow as they rush in.

Void demons. I’ve finally found them.

My mind short circuits with shock. I’m dimly aware of my family going into battle around me. Maxon conjures small tornadoes to tear the Void into bits. Mom skewers more of the monsters with her tail. Dad ignites his angelfire sword and slices through half a dozen at once.

Usually, demon patrol is frightening. This time, I can’t help feeling sad. The Void’s cries are pitiful. Desperation lurks in their empty eyes. They seem more desperate than evil.

One hulking creature breaks off from the rest of the pack and heads right for me. Unlike the rest of the Void, this monster radiates menace. Flames blaze in its eyeholes as it closes in.

Hundreds of battle lessons flicker through my brain all at once. I should take a defensive posture. Cast a fireball spell. Throw a nunchuk. Run for my life.

All I can do is stand and stare.

Moonlight glints off the monster’s talons as it slams a fist into the side of my head. Hurt explodes inside my skull. I curl onto my knees. The demon wraps its slimy hands around my neck. Pain spikes through my throat.

I brace my muscles, expecting the creature to try snapping my neck. That doesn’t happen. Instead, magic wells inside me. It’s the same liquid power that usually clogs my tongue. Now, that energy rushes out of me and into the monster. My body freezes with shock. I did not see this coming.

The creature speaks in a rasping gurgle. “I am the Scintillion. You feed me.”

Pain burns my throat as more liquid energy rushes into the Scintillion. The monster’s gooey limbs solidify. The six-fingered grasp on my throat tightens. I claw desperately at my neck.

Dad’s baculum sword appears in my peripheral vision. The flaming blade stabs between the creature’s ribs. The Scintillion roars with pain, but doesn’t release its grip. The monster’s body now looks gooey and slick again.

Dad twists the blade deeper. “Release my daughter.”

The monster only tightens his chokehold. My neck feels ready to snap.

“Let go of her,” says Mom. She loops her long tail around the monster’s throat, yanking it backward with force. The Scintillion lets go of my neck and howls with rage. It glares at me as its body seeps into the ground. Air rushes back into my lungs. I hunch forward, sucking in rough gasps.

Mom kneels beside me, her features tight with concern. “Are you all right, baby?”

“I’ll be fine. That monster got away, though.”

“We’ll get it next time,” says Dad. “Now that we know what we’re looking for.” He sets his hand on my shoulder. “You did well, Portia.”

My heart could have wings, I’m so happy. I did well on demon patrol? Who would have thunk it? “Thanks, Dad.”

Maxon motions to us. “You’ve got to see this.” We follow his lead to a clearing. My mouth falls open in shock.

The Void have carved a huge crater into the middle of the cornfield. Massive tree roots sit inside, their surfaces shining with golden light. My heartbeat skyrockets. After all these years, I’m seeing it at last.

The Firmament.

Maxon points to the opposite side of the crater. “Check it out. That’s where the Void were chowing down.”

Black bite-marks cover the gleaming root. I’d hoped the Void only made a small wound in the flesh of the tree, but that’s not the case. Their bites are poisonous. With each passing second, more of the tree’s life-glow sickens and fades. I carefully scan the light levels and run some fast calculations. I’d never imagined the Firmament being so dark. My heart jumps into my throat. At this rate of decay, the Firmament won’t last long.

This is bad. Very bad.

“The Firmament’s in worse shape than I thought.” I turn to Maxon. “You have to get us out of here. Now.”

“You got it, sis.” With a wave of his arm, Maxon creates a cloud of smoke. The haze slowly lifts us above the ground. Ear-splitting cracks echo out from the crater. Boulders break loose from the walls and smash onto the gleaming roots.

The crater collapses into the earth, leaving behind an even larger sinkhole. The dark hole is like a black eye on the landscape. All I can do is stare in shock. The world takes on a dreamlike gleam.

“It’s happening,” I whisper.

The after-realms are falling apart.

The billions of humans on the Earth are a drop in the bucket compared to the souls in Heaven, the ghouls in the Dark Lands, and even the demons in Hell. All of them will be destroyed without the Firmament.

I sway from foot to foot, my head swimming with the realization. It’s one thing to suspect a big kaboom will take down your world. It’s quite another to see it happen before your eyes. A chilly cloak of shock presses in around me. This can’t be real.

Maxon sets us all down a few yards from the sinkhole’s edge. “The humans will lose it when they see this,” he says. “They won’t be able to explain it away with their science.”

“We’ll figure out some way to hide it,” says Dad. “We always do.”

Mom turns to me. “I’m more concerned about what this means for the after-realms. How much trouble are we in, Portia?”

There’s no sugar coating this. “Serious trouble. The after-realms could fall apart.” A chill of fear rolls up my body.

“How soon?” asks Dad.

“Weeks. Maybe days.”

My father’s features harden. “We need to gather everyone together and come up with a plan.”

I raise my hand halfway. “I really think we should—”

“One minute, Portia.” Dad’s words are dismissive. It’s the way he’d talk to a guard or an earl, or anyone who’s not critical to the problem at hand. My family is in crisis mode, and I’ve never had a serious part to play in that. Bands of frustration tighten my chest. I need to have a voice here, for all our sakes.

Dad punches some keys on the handheld strapped to his wrist. “I’m not getting any read from Antrum.”

“Do you think the sinkhole affected the thrax?” asks Mom.

“Yeah,” says Maxon. “Could’ve gotten all the after-realms.”

“It
did
impact all the after-realms,” I say.

No one responds to me. Dad keeps punching into his handheld while Mom and Maxon debate what to do next. This is my area of expertise and it’s like I’m invisible. My hands clench into fists. I can’t let this happen.

Firming up my spine, I speak in a louder voice. “Look, guys—”

“Damn,” says Maxon. “I forgot about the elementals. I need to check on them.”

“Go,” says Dad. “We’ll regroup at the Hearth.” The Hearth is our family home in Purgatory. It’s where we always meet when trouble goes down. “We need status reports on the after-realms. Come find us when you’re ready.”

Maxon nods and disappears. The moment he’s gone, the electronic wail of sirens slices the night air.

“We’ve got to get moving,” says Dad. He takes off into the night and we follow. My body is on autopilot. The whole scene is surreal.

“Sorry, baby,” Mom looks back over her shoulder at me as we run along. “You were trying to say something before? Your father and I hit a groove when there’s an emergency. We didn’t mean to cut you off.”

Anger flares inside me. It burns out my dazed mood and puts everything in focus. Suddenly, I don’t care how things were done before. They need to take me seriously now.

I pick up speed until we’re running side by side. “I’ve studied the Void for years. I know you all get in your crisis-groove, but I think you need to really listen to what I have to tell you.”

“Sure, baby,” she says quickly. “Of course. We’ll talk about it at the Hearth.”

I frown. That’s not the heartfelt acknowledgment of teamwork that I was hoping for. Saving the after-realms will be hard enough without having to fight to get every insight across to my family.

The weight of every life in the after-realms presses around me until it’s hard to breathe. I know how my family works: fight first and ask questions later. But fighting the Void won’t be enough. We have to focus on rebuilding the Firmament. I only hope I can get them to listen before it’s too late.

Chapter Five

Mom, Dad, Walker, and I all wait in the main room of the Hearth. Computer equipment is stacked on our massive credenza. Mom fiddles with monitors. Dad types into a keyboard. Walker crawls around under the table, connecting up a nest of wires. He’s a ghoul, family friend, and all-around genius when it comes to anything engineering-related. Right now, he’s getting us tapped into information feeds from across the after-realms.

“Anything new from Antrum?” I ask. No one says anything. This is the third time that’s happened. I realize they’re worried and in crisis mode, but it’s getting on my nerves.

Mom steps to Dad’s side. “Is Antrum coming online?”

I huff out a shocked breath.
Was I dreaming when I asked that question just now?

One of Dad’s monitors flickers to life, casting odd shadows onto his face. “Information’s feeding in now. Minor quakes shook up two of the outlying houses. We’re sending in casters from Striga to fix things.”

Walker reconnects more wires. “Does that do it, Linc?”

My father stares at a dark monitor. “Nope.”

Walker sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Purgatory information feed… Purgatory information feed… Where else can I tap in?” Like all ghouls, Walker is crazy-tall with colorless skin and a pronounced bone structure. He’s also part angel and a total sweetie.

I jam my hands in my pockets and pace the room. So far, Earth, Antrum, Heaven, and Hell have all checked in. Every realm has reported damage. Nothing too terrible, though. We’re still waiting on news from the outlying sectors of Purgatory and the Elementals. Normally, Purgatory would be first to give us an update. We saw some emergency vehicles on our way over, but nothing serious. And the com grid is down, so there’s no knowing what’s really happening. A sinking feeling seeps into my bones. All the magic of the Firmament connects into Purgatory. By my calculations, it could get hit the worst.

Footsteps thump along the roof. There’s only one person who does that. Pops just landed, which means there was at least some damage in Purgatory. Pops doesn’t fly around angel-style if he can avoid it. The public goes nuts, not to mention the paparazzi.

I stare at the winding corkscrew-style steps that lead from the roof to the first floor, anxious to see Pops. He’s been around since the dawn of time. Nothing rattles him, and I need that strength right now. However, the first person to appear on the staircase isn’t Pops. It’s Gram in her classic purple suit. They must have flown over together. She scans the room carefully.

“Everyone all right?” asks Gram. “We heard the reports of an earthquake on demon patrol.”

“Oh, we’re fine,” says Mom. “Portia stood her ground against a Class A demon.” Mom shoots me a thumbs-up, and I fairly burst with pride. “What’s happening in the rest of Purgatory? Why can’t we get any read out?”

“I’d call it an earthquake,” says Gram. “But it wasn’t. Six blocks simply collapsed into the ground. Worst sinkhole we’ve ever seen.”

A weight of worry slips off my shoulders. Losing six blocks is tough. Not as bad as it could have been, though.

Pops steps down the stairs, catches my eye, and winks. “How’s my angel girl?”

“I’m fine, Pops.” Relief trickles through me. It’s good to see Pops looking so calm in his gray suit. Like always, he has cocoa skin, black hair and a white-toothed smile. He saves his wings for special occasions. Even so, there’s no questioning the aura of angelic power that follows him wherever he goes.

Dad nods toward Pops. “You don’t seem worried.”

“Let’s see,” says Pops. “The quasi population will be without television for a few hours while we reroute the power grid. No one got seriously hurt. All in all, I’ve seen much worse.”

Confidence warms my heart. Pops is unflappable.

Walker fiddles with some more wires from his spot under the credenza. “Are we getting anything now?” he asks.

Dad claps his hands. “That’s it. Purgatory info feed is up and running.”

“Didn’t even take us a few hours,” says Pops.

While everyone huddles around the newly live monitor, I watch their activity from across the room. It’s official. I’ve returned to my usual role in a crisis. Watch from afar. Make sure Mom eats something. Grab some extra research if there’s magic involved. This is wrong. I’ve spent too long studying the Void to stand aside now. But I’m not leadership material, am I?

A puff of smoke pours out of the fireplace and takes the shape of Maxon. Like the rest of us, he’s in his demon-fighting outfit. The group that’s huddled around the computers stops talking.

“How’s everything with the Elementals?” asks Dad.

“Fine,” says Maxon. “They don’t experience the after-realms like mortals do. They hardly noticed a thing.” He shrugs. “I’m still trying to wrap my brain around how to rule them. Humans dump trash in a lake and they want me to kill every last mortal. The after-realms go unstable and they could care less.”

Mom’s features brighten. “How’s Lianna?”

“Getting the earth elementals under control. My girl’s a badass.” He gestures around the room. “You all fine here?”

“Everything’s under control,” says Dad. “You can take off.”

“In that case, I’ll…” Maxon pauses, listening. A light scraping sound echoes from the roof.

Maxon frowns. “No way.”

“Is someone else landing?” I ask.

“Oh, yeah,” says Maxon.

“Who is it?” asks Mom.

My brother beams with joy. “My buddy T is here.”

At this point, my Mom does something I’ve never seen her do before. Primp. She turns toward the wall mirror, fluffs out her hair, and pinches her cheeks. Even Grandma Cam makes sure her suit is smooth and all the buttons are done up. She’s definitely in Presidential mode now. A sneaking suspicion crawls up my spine.

Someone’s landed on the roof. It can’t be the Mystery Man, can it?

I dismiss the idea out of hand. I’ve been obsessing about this guy on and off for the last two days. Plenty of people fly around and land on rooftops. Just because someone’s here doesn’t make it the Mystery Man.