Caleb landed on the street below, and finally let his smile vanish, breathing a heavy sigh of relief.
His dad was safe. He’d made it, in the very nick of time.
Thanks, Mister Midnight.
Without the Phase Step, he never would have made it. No normal Time-state would have gotten him there in time, and he never would have been able to pull Callum out from under Sen’s foot.
“He okay?” Chelsea asked.
“He’ll live,” Caleb said. “He’s got Cara looking after him, so he should be able to get back to normal eventually.”
“But he’s probably out for the rest of this fight,” Chelsea said. Caleb nodded. “Well, he got the ball rolling. Proved that punk can be hurt. Let’s finish the job.”
“Easier said than done.” The “punk” in question, Sen, was truly, finally, wounded. The backplate of his armor bore a star-shaped hole, still smoking from where Callum’s bolt of lightning had struck, and the flesh beneath was scarred something horrid.
But Sen was still unharmed by all other attacks thrown his way. And he was proving an even more frightening opponent when wounded. Even with arms pinned to his side, his sword hovered within three feet of him, slashing, thrusting, and blocking in all directions. And Sen was leaping and bounding all over the battlefield, kicking Hunters and Summons with wicked strength. Guardians were being pushed to the brink, and a mobile Sen was far more frightening than the Sen who had stood mostly unmoving in the midst of them, dueling with Jacob Crowley.
But the cavalry had arrived. Exhausted and strained like every other mage in the city, but here all the same. Anastasia and Bronn did not take kindly to Sen being the most physically powerful fighter here, and launched themselves straight into battle. Anastasia met one of Sen’s kicks with her own, and, backed by Guardian Magic, managed to meet the attack on equal terms — but equal wasn’t good enough to hurt Sen. Bronn landed one good punch on Sen’s chest, but his armor held fast, and Bronn’s arms, empowered by Enhancement Magic to a legendary degree, were hard-pressed to bear up under repeated slashes from Sen’s sword. Bronn was forced to retreat, shifting to attacking from a distance, grasping at rubble and throwing bricks and huge chunks of stone at Sen.
Stride didn’t take too kindly to Sen being the premier swordsman of this battlefield, and set about to prove his worth. Sen had one sword. Stride had fifteen, and just like Sen, he could command his swords to hover around him and fight for him without wielding them with his hands. One sword in either hand, and all thirteen of the others flashing and zipping around him, he charged in and out of battle, frequently breaching Sen’s guard and slashing against armor and flesh.
He even found success in harming Sen — barely. Out of his fifteen swords, two — a blood-red shorter sword and a two-handed cerulean blade were able to just barely pierce skin, drawing small trickles of blood from shallow cuts that swiftly healed themselves. And thankfully, his swords held up as well as Jacob’s, able to bear the power of Sen’s sword without shattering or even chipping. Sen couldn’t land a hit on Stride, who darted in and out of danger, only blocking when absolutely necessary, understanding he couldn’t meet Sen strength for strength. Guardian Magic saved him on two close shaves.
Galahad joined him in the sword fight, and his own sword and shield held up against Sen’s as well. Artemis fired her arrows from high above, setting traps and snares for Sen while also striking him dead-on. Athena added her own power to the waning strength of the gathered Guardian Guild, bolstering their defensive efforts greatly. And Hestia stood behind Athena, where she could be safest, spreading wide her powers of inspiration and encouragement.
The Grimoire Guard found its second wind. Third wind? Fourth?
They rallied, once more.
“Let’s show them what we’ve got,” Chelsea said. Her owl came down to her, hooting impatiently, and she shot him an annoyed look. “I need you high up. Hang out with the squirrel. Keep an eye out for Sal. We all know he’ll be here soon.”
“‘The squirrel’?” Gwen asked as Chelsea’s owl darted skyward, raising an eyebrow.
“His name’s annoying to say,” Chelsea said. “Dunno why they bonded, either, but they did, and it helps.”
“Ratatosk,” Caleb said, grinning up at the high boughs of Yggdrasil. Somewhere up there scampered about the huge bronze squirrel Summon of Sieglinde, always on the lookout.
“I might be… a bit spent,” Will said, leaning against a wall. “But I’ll see what I can do.”
“Don’t overdo it,” Caleb said, pressing a closed fist against Will’s forehead. “I’m just glad you got out of there safe. You saved us.”
Will’s eyes narrowed somewhat, crinkling at the edges in what Caleb had learned long ago was a really potent smile for his taciturn best friend. Will smiled with his eyes far more than with his mouth.
“All right,” Chelsea said, starting forward. “Your dad tried to show me up. I was the first non-Paladin to hurt a Son of Night.”
“Lorelei, Will, and I were the next ones against Kaohlad,” Gwen said, following. “You weren’t upset about us ‘showing you up’.”
“Now it’s getting out of hand,” Chelsea said. “If there are too many of you, I stop being special.”
“You’re always special to me,” Caleb said with a grin.
“Ever the sweetheart,” Chelsea said. She strode into the wide battlefield strewn with rubble and debris, and raised her lighters. “Try this on, big guy.” She clicked twice, and darts of flame streaked forward, howling through the air. Sen caught them both on his sword, and on contact, the darts exploded forward, a conflagration of emerald fire spilling out over him.
Chelsea stayed at a distance, opening up with more attacks. Gwen kept her distance as well, casting out silver thread, forming a complex trap to spring at an opportune moment. Caleb leapt high, forming a volleyball-sized bundle of magical chains and spiking it at Sen.
All around them, the rest of the Grimoire Guard lent their support. No one other than Stride, Galahad, Anastasia, Bronn, and Jacob Crowley fought Sen up-close — that had proved folly for too many of them. But there were many with excellent options for attacking from a distance or supporting their allies, and even some of the front-line fighters, particularly Bronn, often backed off to attack from a distance.
Sen, for all his power, was clearly shaken by Callum’s big blast of lightning to his back. While the faint cuts that Stride inflicted on him healed themselves, the star-shaped burn on his back did not.
And now Chelsea was here. Exhausted though she might be, she’d found her second wind, and she’d been through so much — and grown so much — since her battles with Valgwyn in the Library of Solitude. Then, it had only been when she’d lost control and her Elemental had taken over that she’d been able to inflict any actual harm on Valgwyn.
Things had changed. Her understanding had changed, and she had changed. Caleb watched with pride as Chelsea became the core of the Grimoire Guard’s offensive push. Her pinpoint darts of flame streaked forward, whistling through the air, and exploded on contact — always an explosion that blasted forward, not in all directions, never splashing back on her allies. The first several volleys didn’t harm Sen at all — though he did flinch back from them, despite a lack of any visual harm done — so Chelsea adjusted. Caleb could hear the increase in power in the subtle shifts in the whistling of the darts as they shot forward. This new batch sounded fiercer, higher-pitched, and when they struck their explosions were smaller, but more directed, more concentrated and frightening.
The final dart in the new volley struck Sen in the neck, and he reeled backwards in the explosion. When the flames cleared, a wicked burn scar wrapped around the side of his neck, and he grimaced in undisguised pain.
A cry went up, and the attackers pressed forward.
But at the same time, a different cry went up. A cry of alarm.
Caleb turned on his rooftop perch, scanning the crowd. When he saw who had cried out in fright, a chill ran down his spine.
Darkness, inky black Darkness, was seeping up through the stones of the street and clinging to a middle-aged Hunter’s boots. He pulled and struggled, but couldn’t get free.
Caleb leapt down, entering Time-state and Phase Stepping, pulling that Hunter from the Darkness and settling him safely on a rooftop. When Caleb exited his Phase Step, however, more cries of alarm went up.
The Darkness that had burst from the Well below hadn’t been stopped. Stalled, certainly — by Will’s magic, and then by Nidhogg’s brave fight, and then by the roots of Yggdrasil — but not stopped.
And now it was here. Clawing its way up through dirt and stone, slipping through whatever gaps it could find, reaching to take hold of every living being.
“Sieglinde, what’s happened?” Anastasia asked as she wrenched a young Hunter from the sticky grasp of Darkness and leapt with her to higher ground.
“Yggdrasil can’t hold it back anymore,” Sieglinde said, gazing in horror at her marvelous golden tree, Grimoire’s World Tree, what had proved to be their greatest defense against the Darkness during the darkest nights Grimoire had ever seen.
Caleb looked, too, and his heart sank.
Gold was being overrun by black. Veins of corruptive blackness were inching up the base of Yggdrasil’s trunk, fighting for control. They were making slow, infinitesimally slow, progress.
But they were making progress all the same.
The rally against Sen turned, so suddenly, into a desperate rescue effort. Jacob Crowley barked out orders, keeping himself, Stride, and Chelsea on the offensive against Sen, supported by Hestia, Athena, and the Guardian Guild. Everyone else was directed towards getting people to safety.
That included Caleb, who found he didn’t need a Phase Step to pull people from the Darkness’ clutches. Pinpoint strikes from weighted attack chains could break the grip of those inky tendrils, and he had a way that he could not only move faster than anyone, but be in multiple places at once.
He had the Pendulum Step.
“Will, can I borrow those?” he asked, joining Will in safety on a rooftop. Will nodded, handing over his headphones, which Caleb put on, and then selecting the song they’d used before. Mister Midnight could do the Pendulum Step with ease and without any assistance, but it had been the hardest one for Caleb. Will had been his breakthrough. With the right song to keep him on rhythm, Caleb could keep his focus and not get lost to the River of Time, pulled away in multiple different directions until he ceased to exist.
Like the Phase Step, the Pendulum Step was dangerous. But with Will’s headphones and the perfect song, Caleb was able to pull it off. A dozen Calebs darted this way and that in Time-state, rescuing dozens of people in seconds. Cleverly-placed Mobility discs added to the effort, bouncing people up to safety on rooftops, or forming stairways for others to climb on their own.
Very soon, everyone in the area surrounding the battlefield was up and off the streets. But what about the rest of the city? Caleb returned to Will, ending the Pendulum Step and gasping for breath as he handed back the headphones. He was running out of steam — and Grimoire was still in deep trouble. How many ordinary people were trapped in the streets further out, or on ground floors in buildings, far from stairs? How many mages were spread over the rest of the city, aware of the danger and capable in this time of crisis? Oscar hadn’t come to the battle with Sen, so he must be out there helping, and that gave Caleb some hope. Deirdre also was coordinating the Grimoire Guard across the city, not just against Sen, so she must be finding a way.
Right?
But even then…
The Darkness was coming. Flooding upwards from the Well, inexorable, devouring. It wasn’t going to stop at just seeping through the cracks. Every second it was spreading, bubbling up onto the streets. Those streets would soon be rivers. They’d keep climbing. How high? If it took over Yggdrasil, nowhere in Grimoire would be safe, nowhere would be high enough.
Was it over? Had they finally run out of time?
A pair of explosions, and emerald fire blasted through the nearby streets in a star pattern, weaving through all of the streets in this dense neighborhood for nearly a full square mile with astonishing precision.
When the flames cleared, the streets — already emptied of people — were empty of Darkness.
But only for a moment. The inky black substance came bubbling up again, worming its way through the cracks and gaps in stone and dirt.
Of course it was. Blowing away the shallow Darkness that claimed the streets did nothing about the ocean of Darkness beneath their feet, far underground, coming up with no end in sight.
Yggdrasil was fighting. But it was fighting a losing battle.
And now, they all were.
“So ends Grimoire,” Sen said, smiling even in the face of several more burns Chelsea had inflicted across his arms, neck, and face.
“You won’t live to see its end!” Chelsea roared, launching a furious assault on the Son of Night. She leapt towards a rooftop, and Caleb bounced her the rest of the way with a disc, without letting up on the assault. Jacob, Stride, Anastasia, Hestia, and Athena also cleared the street. Sen came leaping for Chelsea, blocking what he could with his sword as he spun into a roundhouse kick.
Athena stepped in the way, shield raised, a barrier between Sen and Chelsea. Sen twisted into a new attack, but then Jacob, Anastasia, and Stride were all there, fighting him back across the rooftop, giving Chelsea room to breathe — and to keep lighting him up.
A fresh blast knocked Sen off the roof, tumbling towards the street below.
Caleb turned, watching the continuing springing up of Darkness, watching his city’s streets, and the valiant World Tree at its center, begin to succumb to the Darkness that threatened them all.
Even if Sen was defeated, what then? They were all spent, and none of them had the power to stop the flood of Darkness.
Delilah… I hope you’re ready. I hope you’ve done what you needed to do, I hope you’re about to turn the Key of the World.
Because we’re —
Caleb’s thoughts were interrupted by a sudden noise. Resonant, powerful, and yet simple.
It was a single snap of fingers.
And accompanying that snap, faster than a heartbeat, faster than thought, cold washed over Grimoire, more frigid than the fiercest winter.
The streets were covered in ice. The houses, too, and the lower trunk of Yggdrasil. Cerulean ice, magical ice, and dancing in the air like tiny cerulean fairies were crystalline snowflakes.
All had gone suddenly very quiet. The quiet stillness of winter stretched out over the city.
And over the ice walked a young woman in a long coat. On her right hand, a glove gleamed with magical light, while her eyes shone with a cerulean glow.
Lorelei was here.
“As far as heroic entrances go,” Chelsea said, smiling with joy and relief at Lorelei, “you do them better than anyone. Though you sure do cut it close.”
“I was trusting the rest of you to save the day while I focused on being a Healer,” Lorelei said, reaching them and striding up an icy ramp to join Caleb and Chelsea on the rooftop. She exhaled, and in the mist of her breath danced tiny snowflakes. “And I try to save the Cold Snap for absolute emergencies. This seemed like it qualified.”
“You’re darn right,” Chelsea said. “Did you freeze all of the Darkness, all the way down the Well?”
“As far down as it goes,” Lorelei said. “Even within Yggdrasil. I’ll… be honest.” She shivered, once, and shook her head, her lips turning upwards in a small smile. “I didn’t know that I could do quite this much. I’ll free Yggdrasil’s roots, and she’ll be okay. And my seal over the Well should hold for some time, even after I shatter the Darkness up here.”
“Can you shatter him, too?” asked Anastasia, nodding down to Sen, who was completely frozen on the street below.
“It didn’t work on Kaohlad,” Lorelei said. “But I’ll try it. At the very least, he won’t be up for much of a fight once he’s no longer frozen. You guys ready to finish him off?”
“Oh, yeah,” Chelsea said, twirling her lighters.
Lorelei’s eyes flashed with cerulean light, and her glove shone brighter for a moment.
Ice, all over the city of Grimoire, shattered in an instant. And with it went the Darkness, vanishing into tiny motes of blackness that fluttered up into the air and disappeared.
Sen was released, not shattered along with the ice that had encased him. But he was clearly no longer fit for a fight, stumbling, his breath coming out as mist, moving very slowly back into a combat stance.
Chelsea, Caleb, Anastasia, Gwen, Bronn, Stride, Galahad, and Jacob Crowley all stepped forward, about to leap into action for the final blow.
All as one, they stopped in their tracks. Caleb felt stuck, tied down by an invisible force. He didn’t understand — and he couldn’t turn his head to look.
But he could see in front of him, and his heart skipped a beat.
Chelsea, Anastasia, everyone — their shadows had changed. All of their shadows had pooled into dark circles at their feet. Caleb only knew of one other time this had happened, a moment he’d only heard about afterwards from those who’d experienced it.
A moment at the Seat of the Seven, after he and Chelsea had been taken away, sent to the Shadowheart, the deepest darkness.
“Well, well, well,” came a melodic, airy voice full of confidence. Caleb couldn’t see the speaker. But he didn’t need to. He’d know that voice anywhere. “You have truly outpaced all of my expectations. I’m very, very impressed.”
“Sal,” Anastasia said through gritted teeth. Her whole body shook with effort against the power holding her in place. But she couldn’t break free.
“Sen, it’s time for you to rest,” Sal said, still unseen. His voice seemed to come from far away, as if he was taking his time walking down from the mountains.
But it was getting closer.
“As you wish,” Sen said, turning away from the Grimoire Guard. Shadowy tendrils emerged from the air above him, descended, and cut off the padlocks that Jacob Crowley had put in place, immobilizing Sen’s arms. His arms free, Sen walked forward into a portal of Darkness, and vanished through it.
“It wouldn’t do to have anyone else in the spotlight, after all,” Sal’s voice continued. Caleb could hear the smile in it, even if he couldn’t yet see Sal. “My time has finally come. I simply can’t share. Not at this critical —”
Caleb waited. But the silence stretched on a bit longer, and he knew something was off. There was no way something had happened to Sal. He was too powerful for that. So why had he —
“Hey, I can move,” said Chelsea, lifting her arms and turning her head. She turned to face Caleb, as bewildered as he was.
“So can I…” Caleb said warily, taking a step forward. Lorelei, Gwen, Will, and Anastasia all were in the same boat.
But everyone else was still frozen in place.
“Hold on, this isn’t right,” Anastasia said, standing in front of her friends and looking each of them in the eye. “It’s like… time’s been stopped for them.”
“But not for us?” Caleb asked, turning in a slow circle and gazing across the city. All around, wherever he saw people, they were standing stock-still. But there was more than that.
The wind had stopped. Not even the faintest breeze blew by. And in front of him, he could see a trio of snowflakes in midair, unmoving. Not a single twirl, not a single bob. They just hung there, stock-still, as if they were painted on the air itself.
“Time’s… stopped…?” Caleb asked, turning back against to face those who could move. “But… how? Who did this?”
“Oh, that was us!” came a voice that made Caleb’s heart leap. It was accompanied by the creaking of a door opening, and as he turned towards the voice, he saw an open door in the middle of the rooftop, as if opening from midair, but inside was the warm interior of Maxwell’s study. And standing in the doorway was the smiling face of Tock. She held up a strange device, all clockwork gears and clock hands and strange dials. “Chronological dispensation. It’s a one-time thing, and this is the only one we have, but, well, this was about the right time.”
“Chronological… wait,” Caleb said, shaking his head. “You stopped time for everyone except us?”
Tock nodded, grinning. Her grin was infectious. “It was the only way we’d reach you in time — and the only way we could possibly get you out of here when Sal’s already arrived.”
“Out of here?” Chelsea asked. “No way. Sal just arrived, we can’t leave when he’s on the doorstep of our city.”
“Yeah, we thought you might be a bit reluctant,” Tock said. She stepped back from the doorway. “That’s why I brought someone who can explain everything to you. He can dish out the details better than anyone. And I know you’ll trust his word more than anyone’s.” She gave Caleb a meaningful look, then vanished into the study.
In her place stepped Shias. He looked straight at Caleb, but when he spoke, he didn’t give a detailed explanation of anything. He just said three words — three words that said it all. Three words that sealed Caleb’s choice.
“Delilah needs you.”