THE MOMENT JANDRA appeared, the voices from the crystal orb Zeeky carried in the cotton satchel slung over her shoulder began to howl. She couldn't believe that everyone in the room didn't hear them. Yet, the only reaction was from Poocher, who tilted his head and fixed his eyes on the bag. He rose from sitting on his haunches and stepped away from Jeremiah, who'd been petting him. The hair along his back once more stood in bristles as he faced Jandra.
Zeeky reached out and placed a hand on his muscular shoulder. "Not yet," she whispered. The pig looked at her with an expression approaching pleading.
"I know," Zeeky whispered, squatting down to his side. "You want to see some action. I promise, you'll get your chance soon."
As they spoke, the shower of sparks caught her eyes. A sky-dragon with a silver skull cap and starry wings stood next to Blasphet, bowing as he greeted the room. She recognized him as Vendevorex from the battle of the Free City-the dragon Jandra thought of as her father.
Bitterwood stood next to her and Jeremiah, but had his attention on Vendevorex. He grumbled, "Doesn't anyone stay dead anymore?"
"It's a pleasure to see you as well," said the sky-dragon.
Jandra crossed her arms. Zeeky knew this wasn't the body language of a daughter reuniting with her father. Jandra said, "So that we can hurry things along and get back to my news, let me fill everyone in on what's happened."
"Please do," said Hex.
Jandra looked at Vendevorex and said, "You died, but with your nanites already programmed to repair your wounds. Unguided after your skull cap was removed, they kept your body in a state of cellular stasis until Blasphet revived it. But he couldn't have restored your mind, could he? Somehow, he brought you back in contact with your old skull cap-the one Hex stole from me."
"And buried here in this barn," said Hex.
"When I brought Vendevorex to the Free City, he was a soulless shell," Blasphet said. "He possessed all the motions of life-he breathed on his own, and if you gave him water, he would swallow-but he was completely devoid of will. I hoped that, as my understanding of my new abilities grew, I might one day restore his mind. Yet, when I brought him into this barn, he slowly began to recover on his own. At first, he possessed no memories, but within days he was fully restored."
Jandra nodded. "That's because you'd brought his body into the control range of his old genie. The device possessed a map of his brain at the time of his death, and guided the nanites in reconstructing Vendevorex's personality."
"How can you know all of this?" Hex asked Jandra.
"It's simple enough to put together," Jandra said. "Obvious, really."
"Your powers of deduction are impressive," said Vendevorex. "I was planning to find you soon. I know that my death must have caused you a great deal of emotional stress."
"Oh," said Jandra, nodding. "Totally."
Vendevorex narrowed his eyes.
Jandra uncrossed her arms. "Now that everybody's up to speed, let's focus on me again." She waved her hand in the air and a flat white disk of spinning light formed before her. Quickly, the light took on the shape of a green island surrounded by a bright blue ocean. The spires of impossibly tall buildings thrust up from the greenery.
"This is Atlantis," said Jandra. "It's a city of six billion people, who all have the same technology used by the goddess. They made the genies Vendevorex and I -and now Blasphet- draw our powers from. These people have powers best described as godlike-but, in one special way, they possess a weakness that leaves them exceedingly vulnerable to attack."
Blasphet craned his long black neck toward the image of the island for a better look. "Why would you wish to attack such a place? Think of the good I've accomplished with my limited understanding of their tools. If they shared their secrets, we could end all suffering."
"But they don't share," said Vendevorex. "They guard their secrets jealously. When Atlantis first came to earth, it decreed that anyone who wanted to experience its bounty would have to live upon its shores. Anyone who didn't would lose access to its miracles."
"Why?" asked Blasphet. "Why possess such power if you don't intend to use it?"
"At the time, the world had gone over the precipice of environmental collapse," said Jandra. "Vast swathes of the ocean were dead zones. The world was experiencing a mass extinction that rivaled the disappearance of the dinosaurs. The cause was human civilization. The goddess was clever enough to constrain civilization to this remote, artificial island. She allowed the continents to return to a state of wildness, or near wildness. Atlantis provided a way for her to cut out the cancer of humanity so that the body of the earth could heal itself."
Vendevorex scowled. "This meshes with the story I was told, though with somewhat different motivations attributed to the goddess."
"That's because, while I was in Atlantis, I discovered you were a pawn," Jandra said. "You were given your genie by a woman named Cassie, who was Jazz's sister and lifelong rival. Cassie wanted you to spread the technology among dragons, so that Atlantis would regain its awareness of the outside world and wipe out dragon-kind. Cassie views dragons as biological contaminants-leftover relics of genetic engineering that don't belong in the ecosphere."
"It's fortunate I didn't behave as expected."
As Jandra and Vendevorex talked, Bitterwood crouched next to Zeeky. He whispered, "Is that really Jandra?"
"It's her body," said Zeeky. "But not her mind. Right now, if you kill Jazz, you'll kill Jandra."
"I'm willing to make that sacrifice," whispered Bitterwood. "You saw what the goddess can do."
Zeeky shook her head. "Jandra's still alive inside her. We can save her."
"How?"
Zeeky motioned for Bitterwood to pay attention to Jandra/Jazz once more.
"So, here's the plan," said Jandra. "Hex, Bitterwood, and Blasphet: you all have a passion for breaking things. I want you to help me break Atlantis. We can steal the wonders there and share them with everyone. Vendevorex, I wasn't expecting you, but you'll be useful as well. Once I trigger the jammer, you'll be one of the few minds on earth that will be able use the Atlantean tech to its full potential."
"So you know their weakness," said Vendevorex.
"Yes," said Jandra. "This is why you had me study all those books on chemistry and physics. If I want to make an antidote to a poison, I need to understand the physical properties of the molecule I need to counteract it. I have this knowledge for the same reason you and Jazz did-I spent years with my nose buried in books memorizing a lot of boring stuff."
"This is also why Blasphet adapted so quickly to the genie," said Vendevorex. "He's spent decades studying the workings of the body and the chemistry of countless poisons."
"Unlike the Atlanteans who haven't had to study anything for the last thousand years," said Jandra. "They have instant access to the city mind, a repository of all shared knowledge. They don't need to memorize the chemical and physical changes needed to turn water into wine. They don't even need to remember their own names. Whenever they want to know something, they ask the city. If they were cut off from the city mind, they'd be helpless."
"The city mind is too sophisticated for simple radio jamming, however," said Vendevorex.
"Wrong," said Jandra. "The goddess developed algorithms for jamming signals that will cripple the Atlantean network. The city mind will be able to crack the code in a matter of minutes, but we aren't going to give it minutes. Are you with me?"
Hex nodded. "Jandra, you have my promise I won't let you out of my sight."
Zeeky could tell from the sound of his voice that Hex suspected the woman before him was more Jazz than Jandra.
"I knew I could count on you." She looked toward Bitterwood. "How about you?"
Before Bitterwood could speak, Zeeky blurted out, "He'll go. I will too."
Bitterwood jerked his head toward her. "No," he said. "I'll go if you wish, but I'm not taking you and Jeremiah into a battle with gods."
Zeeky shrugged. "Okay," she said. Bitterwood frowned at her easy agreement.
Jandra, meanwhile, had turned to face Blasphet. "I assume I can count on you? Killing a city is certainly worthy work for a Murder God."
"No," said Blasphet.
"No?"
"I'll never again act to harm another living being."
Jandra sighed as she motioned toward the model city constructed from light. It bubbled away. She said, "I don't know who you're trying to fool with this good guy act, but you weren't part of my original plan anyway."
Vendevorex said, "I shall go. My familiarity with Atlantis could prove useful."
Jandra nodded. "Good enough. Let's roll."
She traced a half circle in the air and a rainbow formed in the wake of her motion, slowly opening into a yawning void.
"Next stop, Atlantis," she said, stepping toward the gate.
Suddenly, a man shouted, "Wait!"
It was Shay, sporting silver wings, floating in the doorway next to Burke. His wings folded behind him as he dropped to the ground and ran toward Jandra.
Jandra flinched as Shay threw his arms around her. "You're back!" he cried, hugging her with all his might. She awkwardly lifted her arms to pat his back.
"Yeah," she said, pushing away from him. "But, as much as I'd like to catch up, I'm kind of busy right now. I have a city I need to go wreck."
"Jandra?" Shay asked, sounding confused. "It is you, right?"
"Of course," she said, smiling. "I pushed Jazz out of my brain. But, you know me. I'm always rushing off on some new mission."
"Then I'm coming with you," said Shay.
"I don't know that that's a good idea. You're not really the warrior type. Bitterwood and Hex are more the firepower I need."
Poocher snorted indignantly. Zeeky knew he felt slighted not to be included on the list of great warriors present.
"Shay," said Burke, laying his hand on the red-headed man's shoulder. "I know your reunion with Jandra is important, but if we can get the items you mentioned, I'd appreciate it. I've been away from Dragon Forge too long."
"Of course," said Shay. "Hex, do you still have your pack?"
Hex nodded, placing the large leather bag onto the straw-covered floor. Shay opened it and pulled out several silver disks like the one that sat between his shoulder blades.
"Stick these on your back and think about flying. You'll sprout wings. I have six more sets," Shay said. "That's enough for you and Anza, plus Vance and Thorny if they want to go with you."
"And me," said Jeremiah.
All eyes turned toward the twelve-year-old. He stood up from where he'd been sitting. He pulled out a knife that had been tucked into his belt. "This is Vulpine's knife. It's not his only weapon here. He gave me yellow-mouth so that I'd make everyone at Dragon Forge sick. If you're going back, I want to come. I want to take a big handful of the dragonseed back to heal anyone who got ill because of me."
"Boy, I didn't drag you all this way to heal you so that you could go off and get yourself killed," said Bitterwood. "Let someone else take back the dragonseed."
"You're going off to fight in a city of gods. Zeeky's stood up to dragons and angels. If my younger sister can fight these battles, so can I."
"I don't want Zeeky fighting these battles," said Bitterwood. "But your sister has powers. She can control the minds of animals. She can talk to ghosts and see the future."
Zeeky didn't think Bitterwood described what she could do correctly, but she held her tongue. She knew exactly how the next ten minutes were going to play out. In ten minutes, she would follow Bitterwood through the underspace gate to Atlantis. That's where her knowledge of the future ended. Whatever waited in Atlantis, the voices either couldn't see, or wouldn't say.
Jeremiah walked over to the disks and picked one up. "You're right. Zeeky was born with powers. She's the one who could talk to animals. She once talked a bear out of eating our grandma." He stuck the disk on his back. He scrunched up his face, as if he were about to sneeze. Whatever mental signal he sent the disk worked. Silver wings unfolded from his shoulders, flashing in the candlelight.
"I should at least have wings," he said, as his feet lifted from the ground.
Zeeky had to admit, the wings looked good on him.
Bitterwood, however, wasn't convinced. "Jeremiah, you ran when the long-wyrms raided your village. You ran from the battle at Dead Skunk Hole. Why are you suddenly so brave?"
Jeremiah gave Bitterwood a serious look. "I heard Blasphet tell you how it feels to die. It's the same way I felt fifteen minutes ago, before he healed me. As horrible as death feels, it's not as bad as being afraid. It's time I grew up."
Vance butted in. "There are other rebels his age at the fort."
Bitterwood clenched his jaw. Zeeky placed her hand on his fist. "Let him go," she said.
"Will he be alright?"
"Yes," she said, though she didn't know his fate beyond the next few minutes. But he wasn't going to be killed in that small window of time, so it wasn't really a lie.
Vance and Thorny took their wings and Anza grabbed a disk for both herself and her father. In the aftermath, only one disk remained.
With an excited snort, Poocher trotted up, staring at Shay with a look somewhere between pleading and demanding.
Burke looked curious. "Would they even work for him?"
"I don't see how," said Shay. "They're controlled by thought."
"Hey!" Zeeky snapped. "Poocher thinks! He's as smart as you, just in different ways. Can you find edible roots by sniffing around? He's not even a year old and I bet he could survive alone in the woods better than you. Don't tell me he doesn't think."
Shay looked suitably chastised. "Fine. It can't hurt to try."
He sat the silver disk between Poocher's shoulder blades. The pig turned around in a circle, as if he were trying to see the disk on his back, which his fat neck wouldn't allow. After his third revolution, he closed his eyes and scrunched up his snout. His wings unfolded. He floated off the ground, looking smug.
Everyone in the room knew there was something that needed to be said. But not even Hex, who'd never shown any fear of an obvious joke, dared say it.
BURKE SOARED INTO the night sky. Shay led the way, shouting out advice on how to control speed, how to maneuver, and how to hover. Burke found most of the advice unnecessary. The wings responded to thought. He was good at thought.
It felt wonderful, slipping free of gravity, taking the weight off his exhausted leg and the pressure off his aching armpit. He experienced a sense of something approaching deja-vu-it was as if he had flown before. It felt perfectly natural. Just as he could feel the ghost of his missing leg, he now felt a different sensation: the presence of phantom wings that spread from his shoulders and occupied his new metal limbs. He, like most people, had experienced dreams of flying. What did it mean? Why did he feel so at home in the sky? Was it feedback? Since his thoughts guided the wings, did the wings somehow affect his mind? Or was there some deeper mystery at work here? The dragons believed in a myth that the world had once been ruled by angels who were then overthrown by dragons. His people believed the myth was a metaphor for dragons overthrowing humans. But, what if the myth was true? What if mankind had once possessed wings?
As comfortable as he felt in the air, Jeremiah and Anza looked even more at home. They were zooming around like sparrows at play, flitting about in tight loops that Burke doubted he'd have the stomach to attempt.
Vance looked stable in the air, though he avoided the daredevil antics of Anza and Jeremiah. Poocher floated without flapping his wings, as if he were some oversized black and white balloon. The pig didn't look nervous, but he no longer looked as cocky as he had earlier now that they were hundreds of feet off the ground. Thorny was the only member of their group who looked frightened. His newly restored hands were held out stiffly to each side, as if he was balancing himself on unseen stair rails.
Shay said, "I flew here in about two hours. I think the wings could go faster, but the wind takes your breath away. Also, in daylight, it was easy to follow the Forge Road. You'll probably need to fly slower so you won't lose it."
Poocher snorted. Shay looked at him, and saw the silver visor sitting on his snout. Shay could see in the dark with his visor; he supposed Poocher could too. He took the visor from his eyes and handed it to Burke. "Wear these. You won't lose the road then. The others can follow you. And, you may as well have this too." He loosened the long leather holster than held his shotgun and ammo. "It doesn't sound like it's going to be much more effective than a pea-shooter where I'm going."
Burke took the visor and the gun. He'd given Thorny the shotgun he'd fled Dragon Forge with now that he had working fingers again, so the additional firepower was welcome. "You're going to follow the others to Atlantis?"
Shay nodded, looking apologetic. "As much as I want to fight for Dragon Forge, my heart lies with Jandra. I'm afraid she's still possessed by the goddess."
"And what if she is?" said Burke. "How will you free her?"
Shay placed his hand on the hilt of the angel sword. "I don't know if she can be freed. If she can't, I have the only weapon that can hurt her."
"Understood," said Burke. "I'd make the same choice."
Shay floated over to Thorny. He slipped his satchel off and said, "You're a man who knows the importance of books. I found these in the kingdom of the goddess. They aren't interesting reading on their own, but they provide a key to understanding a lot of the books that survived from the Human Age. Try not to let them get around any open flames, okay?"
Thorny took the bag. "When all this is over and you get back to Dragon Forge to start your school, count me in as one of the teachers."
"Thanks," said Shay. He looked at the barn down below. "I should go. You all have a revolution to save."
"You're a good man, Shay," said Burke. "We won't let you down."
SHAY SWOOPED BACK toward the barn. Now that the sun had set, the night was biting cold, with a steady wind blowing from the north. Despite this, the streets were full of men, women, children, and earth-dragons dressed in white, crowding together, watching as he came to a gentle landing on the packed earth of the street.
Someone in the crowd said, "Our healer denies his divinity, but who else would be visited by angels?" There was a general murmur of agreement.
Shay knew nothing of Blasphet save that he was a mass murderer of both men and dragons. He didn't like the idea that his presence might somehow be helping Blasphet's reputation. For the moment, however, he had bigger things to worry about.
Within the barn, the underspace gate was still open. Jandra, Hex, and Bitterwood were gone, as was Jandra's mentor, Vendevorex. Skitter, the long-wyrm, was now in the barn, his copper-scales reflecting the various hues of the rainbow. Zeeky sat alone upon his back, cross-legged, with a glass orb roughly the size of a baby's head perched in her lap. The surface of the orb reflected the shimmering rainbow edges of the gate. Zeeky didn't take her eyes off the orb as Shay walked toward her.
"We're at the end," she said. "After we go through the gate, I don't know the future."
Having lived his life so far without knowing the future, Shay didn't feel as nervous as Zeeky sounded. He wondered how Skitter had slipped into the barn without him noticing. He must have been more preoccupied with getting Burke and the others on their way than he thought.
Zeeky said, "You know that Jazz is still in control of Jandra."
"I know," said Shay. "When she wasn't coated in silver any more, I had a flicker of hope that Jandra was back, but knew it was too good to be true. But, I can't just give up. Is there no way to save her?"
"I don't have any idea. The villagers won't tell me. They've stopped using words. All I hear are howls of rage. They want vengeance against the goddess."
Shay grew closer. In addition to the rainbow reflected on the surface, there was a tiny rainbow floating inside the orb. When he'd first met Zeeky, he'd been skeptical of her claims that she could hear the voices of ghosts predicting the future. Now that he had wings and a flaming sword, he found it difficult to be skeptical of almost anything.
"I don't understand how this works," he said. "How can people be trapped inside this glass ball? Even if they are, how can they see anything other that what's right here around us?"
"The ball looks solid," said Zeeky. "But, it's not, really. Touch it."
Shay moved his hand toward the glassy surface. His fingers stopped as they encountered a pressure. It reminded him of the magnets that Chapelion had kept for study. Turned one direction, the magnets would pull toward one another. But, if you flipped one of the magnets and tried to force them together, they wouldn't touch. Some unseen force held them apart. The orb produced a similar sensation on his finger tips.
"There's a whole world inside this ball," said Zeeky. "In underspace, people exist as pure thought, ghosts without bodies, forever looking out at the world. Past, present and future are all visible. The villagers tell me that, even though they don't have bodies, the things they imagine become real inside the void. It's like they're gods, creating a new world with their minds." She looked up at him. "Gods don't like to be trapped. If they could get out, they'd punish Jazz."
Shay looked at the gate to Atlantis. The black rip in reality yawned like an open mouth. "If they're in underspace, can't they get out through that portal?"
"No," said Zeeky. "The goddess has trapped this sliver of underspace in the orb. It's like a loop of space folded in on itself. Until this ball is broken, they can't get out. Jazz said nothing on earth can hurt it."
"Really?" asked Shay, his hand falling to the hilt of the angel sword. "Mind if I give it a try?"
Zeeky handed him the orb. "Be my guest."
The ball was strangely heavy for something that wasn't solid. He squeezed it with both hands; it was hard as stone. Shay sat the orb on the floor and pulled out his sword, willing it to burst into flames. Skitter jerked backwards as a hot wind washed across the room.
The white-robed women around the room stepped toward him, looking highly alert. Blasphet, who had been watching attentively, said, "Have a care. I'm committed to non-violence, but my followers are zealous in defending me."
"Lucky for me I'm not planning to attack you," Shay said, as he willed the blade to white hot intensity. Smoke rose from the frayed edges of his coat sleeve. The hilt of the sword protected his hand, but the air was so hot he could barely breathe. Gritting his teeth, he took a powerful swing at the orb.
The sword bounced off. Needles of pain shot up his wrist from the force of the blow.
Feeling dizzy from holding his breath, he lowered the heat of the blade back to a dull cherry red. The air swirled around him as the temperature dropped. He frowned as he looked down at the orb. The straw around it was burning, and there was a black, glassy gouge on the earth beside it where his sword had hit. The orb wasn't even scratched.
He stamped out the straw, and then picked up the orb.
"That was my best shot," he said. "Could Skitter bite it open?"
"I'm pretty sure he can't," said Zeeky. "And if he swallowed it, it might take weeks until it, um, came out."
Shay nodded. "Maybe there's something in Atlantis that can free them. I should go. I need to chase after Jandra and the others. I mean, Jazz and the others."
"I'm coming with you," said Zeeky, uncrossing her legs and taking on a more traditional mounted position astride her saddle. "Bitterwood is probably already fighting the Atlanteans. Let's hope we find Jazz before they finish the job."
"You're right. Once she no longer needs Bitterwood and Hex, she'll kill them." He offered her the orb.
She shook her head. "This is the last part of the future they told me. They said you would carry them through the gate."
Shay frowned. If the fortune-telling ghosts had seen that he would be taking them through the gate, had they seen Jazz possessing Jandra? If so, why hadn't Zeeky warned him? All of this might have been avoided. But, he decided it was the wrong moment to confront Zeeky on this. He placed the orb into the last bag he carried, Jandra's backpack, resting it on top of her coat. He ran his finger along the silky fabric. Though it was smudged with soot from their work digging up Jazz's heart, it still had the smell of the crystal clear pool beneath the waterfall.
His heart caught in his throat at the memory.
He willed the sword to bright yellow flame once more and held it toward the portal. The void within the rainbow devoured the light, revealing nothing, not even shadows. He breathed in slowly through his nostrils, staring into the darkness. Even his bones felt cold, despite the heat of the sword.
Leaping into the unknown was the job of heroes. He was only a skinny former slave with an aching heart and unusually crisp handwriting. It was just as well he didn't know the future. Closing his eyes, he leapt. The last thing he heard before the void swallowed him was Skitter clattering at his heels.
CHAPTER THIRTY: