Chapter Sixteen
“Authority, when first detecting chaos at its heels,
will entertain the vilest of schemes to save its orderly face.”
—Alan Moore, V for Vendetta
There were many reasons why Matching could be our greatest defense against nearly thirty Trivials. There were many reasons why Matching could be our downfall, too. I remembered the battle at Wrightwick. While I didn’t take on any Trivials, I did take on Gizmo, a steroid-infused Eidolon nearly twice the size of Brent’s spectral beast, while Matched with Chad, and we barely lived to tell our harrowing story. Going against an Eidolon who was more powerful than a Trivial was tough, so it stood to reason going up against thirty Trivials would pose as much of a challenge.
Brent edged nearer to me when more Trivials—male and female—emerged from the woods. They circled the remains of his homestead. The pyre of his family’s ashes and clothing lay at our feet. We had to stand our ground. We had to fight fast and without mercy.
My nerves turned into frost the instant Brent pulled me into him, bring the two of our humanly bodies together into one. In the center was my raging inferno with a shell of his ice as a handful of Trivials charged us.
While fighting Eidolons and Watchmen, there was the hope of scaring them into a retreat, that their will to live far outweighed their hunting instinct. Trivials were not such creatures. They lacked emotion. As Chad had said, they were sociopaths, and sociopaths were fearless warriors.
But then, so were Brent and I. At least I had to believe that until we buried the mass of motherfuckers in the ground. Having learned my new skillset out of necessity, I had no time to think about my heat or how Brent’s nearness made me both sick and comforted. I didn’t notice that my heat had taken over. In so many ways, I was a machine. And Brent was, too.
Together, we made our first battle cry as a last-ditch effort to thwart a fight. The earth beneath our feet rumbled. The screech echoed for miles. Humans might hear it and wonder what crazed animal was out in the woods.
The Trivials showed no hint of fear or hesitancy. They continued coming at us, their limbs beginning to lengthen and bend as I remembered them doing in Montana, my first encounter with them.
Two launched themselves at us, and with one swing of our arm and howl, they were thrown back, but not at all stopped. They ran at us again, and another group came at our backside. This was not a fight where we’d go head-to-head, one at a time. They would converge on us like a pack of wolves.
Brent, we can’t stave them off, I thought, knowing well he was in my head, listening.
We have to run, he replied.
My blood curdled. That was not the reply I wanted, even if it was the correct one.
Run? They’ll chase us. What happens if they…
My thought was cut off when three bodies slammed into us. Matching seemed to be the impenetrable weapon that would save the world. Or so I had hoped.
We collapsed to the ground, nearly crushing the pile of his family’s ashes. The ground quaked just as it had when we roared. I didn’t lose my closeness with Brent, however. We remained together, stuck like glue, but above us, ten or more Trivials closed in.
What now? I asked because my beloved would know. He knew everything. He was the top Reaper in Styx. He’d know. He had to. Didn’t he?
Brent didn’t say anything. A growl started in our chest, the sort that vibrates bones, and it grew in intensity until I was sure we’d explode outward. I realized what was happening a moment before the Trivials, their eyes readying for the kill and their spider-like limbs bending and writhing in anticipation. Our Eidolon jaws stretched long and wide, and I felt the Eidolon’s hunger. Our lungs emptied entirely before we took in one long, massive inhalation. This was the Eidolon’s deathblow. Once the victim is within range, drawing out their soul is unstoppable. But Trivials didn’t have souls. How would this work?
Brent, this won’t… I grew still when I spotted all ten of the Trivials’ eyes grow vacant. They were mesmerized, or so I assumed. Why else would they grow still and not strike? Each one seemed paralyzed not from fear. But from what?
Brent had hunted Trivials on behalf of Marin. He had taken them down, one by one. He knew what he was doing. But I didn’t know, and not knowing had me crippled in fear. My heat wasn’t nearly as high as usual. Was that bad? Would that hinder Brent’s abilities?
A moment into their paralyzing trance, I realized what Brent was up to. He had not intended to draw out their souls because there was nothing to take. His powerful inhalation had put them into a trance to immobilize them, and then he would move in for the bloody kill.
We were on our feet and tearing into the bendy, awful limbs of the enemies before there was chance of a second wave of attack. Blood, bones, and screeches vibrated against the mass of trees. Brent and I moved so fast that there was no opportunity for them to fall out of their trance and strike. Ten of them went down in seconds. Bodies, minus their limbs and heads, plopped into the river of blood at our feet.
Ten were down. Twenty more Trivials to go. The only Trivial I couldn’t spot now was James. He had disappeared into the woods, it seemed.
There was a long, weighted pause between our enemies and us. This was the moment when they could run and avoid a similar fate, or we could run and keep from killing more Stygians. I felt an inkling of desire from Brent to run. Neither one of us wanted to continue the bloodbath that Marin had begun. That era had ended. A new world should rise from Marin’s ashes.
They aren’t going to fall for that again, Brent said in reference to his clever trick. Now we fight. Use your heat.
Oh, that! I had forgotten as I fell into the backseat of the battle. Now I did what I had always done to stoke the inferno. I simply let it unravel within me. Anger had always helped, and I was enraged over what these Trivials had done to Brent’s family. Still, as I did what had always worked for me up until this moment, I found the limit of my skills.
Sure, I was hot and probably too hot to touch. But that nuclear power that I had witnessed from Errol and then successfully achieved on my own, over and over, was dormant. I tried. I imagined Chad’s face. I imagined Marin’s when he melted Errol. I even thought of the day Errol had Dudley shot to show the power of the Phlegethon. Even that last thought, one I was sure would set me off, did nothing.
Ollie… Brent’s voice was riddled with concern. Are you alive in there? Sleeping? What the hell?
Uh, well. I can’t do it, I said as we took notice of the Trivials closing in around us. There was a circle of them, moving slowly toward us with more focus this time. They would not strike like the other ten. They would come at us all at once and tear Brent and me apart before tormenting us to our graves. That would surely be a painful death, and after everything I had survived, it would be a shame to go down by the Trivials’ will.
What’s wrong? Brent nudged as I tried to grow hot.
I don’t know exactly.
A reason would have been helpful. A reason would’ve directed us to some sort of solution. But I didn’t have one except that maybe I was tired? Maybe deep inside, I had given up?
The Trivials drew nearer. Each one seemed to be licking his or her chops to do us in. By all rights they should’ve. Marin had ordered Eidolons to kill them. Brent had been one of them. I was an innocent caught in the crossfire.
“Stop!” I screamed at the Trivials. “We don’t want any more blood to be spilled.”
I realized, after the fact, that speaking was meaningless. And it showed my fear more than it provided any real resolution. Brent was kind enough not to point that out, but if I thought of it, so did he.
A group of Trivials to our right lunged at us. The group to our left followed a moment later. We had ten more Trivials on us, trying to tear into our union and rip it apart like they would our bodies. Brent screeched, stomped, and tried to send them hurtling back, but the effort all but failed. Two were thrown off of us. They were right back without losing their balance or speed. Our body swung and staggered as teeth and hands tore at us. The horror felt like daggers piercing skin, teeth clutching flesh. If we were injured badly, I wouldn’t have been able to tell with them converging on us like a pack of starving zombies.
The sheer weight of their ten bodies was enough to bring us to our knees. As Brent had said, they wouldn’t give him enough space to put them in a trance and then tear them to pieces. That trick was old, worn, and meaningless now. The proof of this was in the third wave of Trivials, adding ten or more bodies to the ten already piled on top of us.
Brent, what now? Fear was getting the best of me at this point. I had never been subdued by twenty ravenous monsters. Even with Brent’s nearness, I could not quell the panic rising like wildfire in my veins. If only I could have turned that fear into my own nuclear fission, we would be able to escape this. Brent had to have another trick up his sleeve.
Brent’s silence, however, spoke the truth. My heart tightened. If they successfully ripped us into pieces, what then? What would happen to our souls?
We are left in no-man’s land, Brent grunted as we fought and struggled. Ollie, break off from me. Go hide. This doesn’t need to involve you.
Never! I wished I could scream it out loud. I’m not going to leave you, Brent. Ever.
He would die without my help. But that wasn’t the only reason I stayed. As I imagined him fighting this battle alone, I imagined my fear of him starting to unravel. Some of that pent of anxiety began to fall away, replaced by resolve and sheer protectiveness. He would not become a victim of the Trivials. He would not be left to rot in no-man’s land. Being killed by a Trivial meant living as a ghost, in a vast emptiness, a vacuum where there is no end, no beginning, and where light cannot exist. It was a place where you go in knowing love and warmth and happiness, but never able to acquire it. The forgotten.
He was willing to die for me. Again.
I would rather fight for him.
My heat began to expand in my chest like a blossoming flower, pulsating outward as it unfurled. Yes, I would fight. I would not become forgotten, and neither would Brent. We would go down in a nuclear blast if necessary.
Good, darlin’. Brent noticed even as his shell of ice struggled to keep the Trivials at bay. Keep going. Keep fighting.
And I did. Once the inferno began, it was impossible to stop. It grew from my chest to my stomach, legs, and arms. With the rise of heat in my body, the Trivials struggled to maintain their grasps on us. Those daggers and teeth weakened. They continued to fight, of course, but their strikes were not as effective. I kept going. I kept burning hotter and hotter. With Brent’s protective shield around me, I was safe to push my power as far as we could stand it.
When I had first tapped into this gift at Wrightwick, I felt like I was going to blow the earth to smithereens. The compactness of energy in my body could not be contained. My skin felt stretched thin, like paper, and one fissure would set the nuclear weapon off. This time was not different. As my rage and power intensified, I felt myself overcoming Brent. The outer shell of ice and death split in two and left me standing in the middle. In some ways, he was made obsolete. Where the Trivials could attack his frostiness, they could not stand against my heat.
Their nips and bites weakened until they felt like gnats against my red hot skin. They continued to fight. They would not stop even if I melted them first. Trivials were fearless as they were reckless with their bodies. Where one went down, another stepped in for him.
They howled and screeched when I let out my own blood-boiling cry. It was my final warning. Back off and live or prepare for annihilation. Once my power rose to its apex, there was no stopping it. I had to let out the rage of heat. I had to, or I would succumb to it. It was them or me.
Hold on, Brent!
I felt him hunker down, letting my show take over.
The flash of a bomb went off, sending a wave of energy spiraling out of us and at our enemies. Everything in its path, trees, debris from the homestead, bones and limbs of the dead, and the Trivials were sent off their feet and hurling into the air. As they did, their clothing and flesh melted from their bones. Skeletons, white as the moon, landed in piles on the ground.
The descent from this level of heat always came quickly. I found myself standing amid piles of ash and bones long before the dust and smoke settled. My skin was back to its pale color. My dreadlocks hung still. My clothes untouched. Behind me was the rustle of leaves. I glanced over my shoulder to see Brent climbing to his feet. He had been thrown, too, but was untouched like me.
My first instinct was to run to him and see if he was okay. But I didn’t when I spotted many sets of eyes staring from the shadows of the forest. There were more of them. So many I couldn’t count. All that was visible was their gold, glowing eyes, but it was enough to tell me that this last blast of heat was not enough to do away with them all.
“Where are they coming from?” I said to Brent as he steadied himself at my side.
“I don’t know.” His voice dripped with exhaustion. I was sure he was pondering the very same question that I was—when would we run out of steam? When would we lose the battle?
“I can’t do that again. I need time to regenerate.” My body was cool now, and it would remain so for some time.
The gold eyes grew brighter as they began to move through the trees toward us.
“Ollie.” Brent grabbed my hand. “We’ll go down fighting. The two of us.”
Those words weren’t exactly what I wanted to hear. I squeezed his fingers against mine. The bones in our hands rubbed together. But he was right. We would do this together. We would fight no matter how hard it would be. I would stand by his side as he would stand by mine. After two years of being separated, together was all that mattered.
He took my hand in his. “I love you, darlin’.”
For the first time since we reconnected, I could hear his voice, believe at least a little in his love without the pain of terror lingering in my heart. But I couldn’t say it back. He seemed to understand—he didn’t push me.
Brent and I mentally prepared for the worst, but what emerged from the darkness of the forest wasn’t another army of Trivials. The first sign of hope came from two young girls and a boy, ones I recognized from my last visit to the homestead. Amber, Belle, and Patrick—each taller and more grown up than the last time that I saw them—ran in our direction, their faces filled with a mix of relief and cheer. Behind them came Sue Ellen, Brent’s sister-in-law, and the rest of the rebels who had used the homestead as their home.
Brent’s knees hit the ground when his nieces and nephew threw themselves around him. They squealed in a mix of tears and joy. Brent didn’t look up at me, but I still saw little tears forming in his blue eyes. They weren’t dead. They had survived somehow.
But then whose body parts had we seen?
Sue Ellen was in a housedress that pulled tightly around her wide curves. Her hair was disheveled and her clothing muddy. Upon quick glance, every one of the rebels and Brent’s family were dirty, like they had been hiding deep in the woods. She grabbed my hand and pulled me into an embrace. Sue Ellen only came up to my chest, so she used my breasts as a pillow as she held tight. Just as fast as she pulled me close, she stepped back and gave me a scrutinizing once-over with her gold-tinted eyes.
“I knew you were powerful the moment I met you,” she said.
She then grabbed on to Brent and hugged him, her face twisted with grief. The children moved away from their uncle and rushed me, putting their little arms around me in thanks for saving them from the Trivials.
As our reunion continued, more and more Reapers emerged from the woods. They thanked us and shook our hands or hugged us. They inspected the Trivials’s bones that were scattered across the landscape.
“Where’s James?” Brent asked me.
I shrugged. “He must’ve taken off. We didn’t get him—that I know.”
“Great.” He raked his fingers through his hair before he pointed at the piles of limbs that we both had thought belonged to his family right before we entered the fight of our lives. “Who do those belong to?”
Sue Ellen’s brow crinkled and tears poured down her wrinkled, dirty cheeks. “Wallie and some of the others tried to fight them off so we could escape.”
I didn’t have to be Matched with Brent to feel his heart stop.
“Your…your brother tried. He didn’t make it,” she said with a hitch in her brittle voice.