CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

Once we were adequately bundled, we set out on foot. At first we darted from tree to tree, trying not to be seen, but the forest was empty. It didn’t take us long to reach our destination. The mansion was huge, but rather than a sterile facility, like the other Camaraderie strongholds, this one looked liked it came out of Jim’s history textbook. Victorian in design, it was four stories tall. Decorative windows with intricate gilding were mounted within each story. A porch overhung each floor with ornate columns supporting the woodwork. The house itself was composed of red brick. It had five spires, each with windows overlooking the forest, and each of the upper windows had brass overlaid onto the abstract stained glass designs.

The late, setting sun framed the mansion in a deep silhouette, gleaming through the artistic windows and casting them in brilliant light. A lone flight beast leapt from one of the spires, its thin wings glowing in the sunset.

Jack whistled. “Gotta give the Camaraderie props for design. Looks like it came straight outta some black and white horror film.”

We crept toward the house. I kept my pistol trained on the flight beast, but it squawked and flew off, disappearing among the trees. At the mansion’s front door, two agents lay on the deck with their bodies twisted at odd angles. Their faces were obscured by their black visors.

“Keep yer gun ready,” Jack instructed me. For all that he normally used his claws, he had Inese’s pistol held cautiously at his side. I nodded, spotting him while Quin checked the agents’ pulses.

“Great,” Jack muttered. “No idea what we should be watching out for, either.”

I reached out with my flower charm, trying to sense the emotions of anyone nearby. All I got was my teammates’ nervous apprehension. “Unless they’re shielded or really good blockers, I don’t sense anyone in there.”

I stepped on the other side of the door and uncurled my vines. The heavy oak creaked as it opened to an empty hall.

My vines bristled. The place felt empty, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were being watched.

Inside, warm, flickering light danced along the halls in wall-mounted lanterns. “It’s clockwork,” Quin whispered. “Functional clockwork, set to dim and brighten during certain times of the day.” He quirked his head with amazement, but his face fell as Jack pulled him away.

Quin led the way. An eerie silence permeated the hall. No guards. No beasties. Thick rugs were laid across a polished wood floor. Oil paintings of the original Camaraderie members hung along the walls, and even the ceiling was delicately painted.

I paused, craning my head and sheltering my eyes from the glare of the lanterns. In one painting, a brilliant splash of light radiated from a man in a tan work apron with tell-tale, dark red hair—Benjamin or Spectator. On the other side, a woman in a deep crimson, modest dress held out her hands, a pale image of a five-jeweled shield drawn across her—possibly Benjamin’s wife.

“Jenna, come on!” Jack beckoned, and I reluctantly tore myself away from the paintings. The paintings might contain hints regarding the connection between Spectator and Benjamin, but Jack was right. We had a more pressing mission to complete.

We passed by corridor after corridor of relatively new Victorian trappings until Quin suddenly stopped. He murmured something under his breath and took a hesitant step back.

My heart skipped a beat. Ahead of us lay two more corpses, their bodies arched awkwardly, their skin white. Their eyes were wide with horror, their faces twisted into almost unrecognizable masks, their jaws open in a perpetual scream.

Quin twisted the nunchaku in his hands. “I don’t think we should stick around longer than necessary.”

“And thus he goes further in.” Quin lowered his voice and leaned toward me. “What exactly did Inese tell him?”

“Right.” He shuddered. “It’s not like we couldn’t try getting these stones later, once we know what’s going on.”

“Anybody think this seems a bit out of place?” Jack jabbed his thumb at a set of decorated, heavy steel doors.

“Wait,” I hissed. I hadn’t realized I’d been sensing out the place with the charm, but there was definitely someone, or something, inside that room. “Someone’s in there. They’re afraid.”

Jack took a deep breath. “Let’s assume they’re armed. If you think they’re going to attack, shoot first.” He caught my gaze. “Can I trust you to do that?”

Jack twisted his lips, but nodded. “Be prepared to shoot, in case someone’s shielded.

I took a deep breath, and then called on my speed powers until the world slowed down around me, Quin and Jack barely moving. I shouldered my way inside the room, gun first.

There were two agents in front of me, each holding a rifle. They had been aiming for whomever came through that door. I ran between them and, with a slight adjustment, they now aimed their guns at the ceiling.

Their guns cracked on either side of me. Dust poured from the tiles above us. My ears rang. I whipped my vines around the two agents, forcing them to the ground. Unfortunately, I was now tied to them via my vines, but they weren’t balanced enough to fight against me.

“Stand down,” I snapped, returning to normal speed as I looked at each of the two agents. One was male—Agent Turner, according to his name tag. The other was female—Agent Gosse. I raised my chin, hoping I was conveying some kind of authority. “Tell us where the time stone is, and we’ll let you—”

I squinted at the blinding blue light behind them. The entire room resembled a security center with gleaming white walls and pale, frosted coolers. Most of them were empty, except one.

Never mind the time stones. I aimed my pistol at Agent Turner. “Where’s Tim?”

“Master Zaytsev?” The man stared at me, his blue eyes wide. “He was being interrogated—”

Turner started to speak, but Agent Gosse spoke first. “That’s none of your business, rebel.”

“What about the dead guards?” Quin followed Jack inside and closed the door behind him. “What happened to them?”

The agents exchanged glances, and I felt the enticement to answer. He was using his persuasion power. “We heard screams.” Turner fidgeted in the vines. He probably already wanted to speak since it hadn’t taken much to convince him. “Our backup team said they were being attacked by some kind of spirit.”

Gosse snorted, but after glancing at Quin, she answered, “We’re waiting for them to report back.”

“Our backup team is dead.” Turner’s voice rose anxiously. “We have to protect Lady Salazar. We knew there was a possibility the Manticore would go rogue. We knew what it could—”

Gosse glowered at the floor, her short black hair framing her sharp, pale face. “You talk too much.”

Turner nodded frantically. “Yes—the second Legion Spore. Master Zaytsev claimed it had defied its programming. The council was investigating to see if he was telling the truth. Have you been out there? He was right!”

I severed the vines from my arms, leaving the agents tied. If Tim was being investigated, maybe he was nearby. We could still rescue him, and he might know where the stones were. “Where is Tim, err, Master Zaytsev?”

Jack lowered his gun to the man’s head. “In that case, how ’bout you tell us where the last time stone is, and we’ll let you live?”

I swallowed hard, noting the flower charm’s ragged edge pressing into my sternum. The agent was telling the truth. I pushed Jack’s gun aside. “Given the Camaraderie’s lack of telling anyone details, they might have kept the time stones a secret, even from their own agents. He doesn’t know what you’re talking about.” I took a deep breath. “The second Legion Spore... the Manticore, right? It’s dead. We destroyed it. Unfortunately, it created a spirit of some kind.”

“That must be what’s killing the other agents,” Agent Gosse muttered, refusing to look at us.

“Why don’t the two of you help us?” Quin suggested coolly. “You need to protect Lady Salazar, correct?”

“Come with us.” Quin folded his nunchaku neatly in front of him. “You’ll be our prisoners, but we can get you out of here once we’re finished with our own search.”

They must have really wanted out of here, because Agent Turner nodded vigorously, while Agent Gosse sighed in defeat.

Jack whirled on Quin. “Are you kidding? They’ll shoot us in the back the moment they have a chance!”

“No,” Quin asserted. “We’re extra bodies. If we run into whatever killed the other agents, having a large group means more of a chance that they survive.”

“Besides,” Agent Gosse added matter-of-factly, “if it’s a spirit attacking us, our guns won’t do anything. We could go along without weapons. You’d be safe from us.”

“No... keep your rifles. There might be other things out there.” Quin turned toward me, his eyes distant. “You can ensure they don’t try to do anything.”

“Your vines.” Quin gestured to the vines holding the agents in place. “Free them, and let them have their guns as protection. But create a simple collar, and stay behind them. If they try anything, you can simply tighten the noose.”

My eyes widened. What in the Community? That was too much like how I’d killed the beastmaster in Guatemala. Too much like the act that had brought Ivy Man’s attention to me. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Agent Turner cleared his throat and offered a weak smile. “Our job is to protect Lady Salazar. If you help us, we’ll have no reason to attack you until we’re in a safer place.”

I looked to Jack for confirmation. He nodded. I sighed, then repositioned part of the vine from their bindings into a collar. My fingers tingled as I removed the rest of their bindings and made sure the collar wouldn’t come loose. There was a good chance the brain seed was feeding off all of this, because right now, they had to do what I wanted—unless they wanted to end up as dead as the guards in the hall.

Once they were free to move, I wiped my hand against the outside of Val’s cooler, clearing the frost. She wore silvery armor, her frizzy hair clinging to the nape of her neck and covered in a thin sheen of ice. Her makeup was smeared from frozen tears, one hand outstretched as if she’d been trying to get through the glass before the coolers activated.

Quin checked the security console at the center of the room. “The pregnancy is listed here. They were making sure the child survived.”

“Of course we were!” Agent Gosse stared at us in disbelief. “The child is the first heir born from Camaraderie lineage since Lady Black. If anything happened to them, we’d be out of Special Forces faster than we could say the pledge.”

Huh. Just because a child was born to a leader didn’t necessarily make them a leader. I hadn’t thought lineage would be that important, given the Camaraderie’s interest in the Community’s efficiency. I turned back to the frosted glass. “How long has she been in there?”

“He was under investigation,” Gosse muttered. “Of course he was in the coolers. Now if you don’t mind, can we get her out?”

Jack nudged my shoulder and pointed to a gridded glass window on the other side of the room. He jabbed his thumb at the doors. “I’d be willing to bet that if they’ve got the stone locked up somewhere, it’s that way.”

A minute later, the cooler hissed, its blue lights fading. Color returned to Val’s cheeks and Agent Turner hurried to the ramp, prepared to catch her. Val murmured softly in Spanish as he laid her across the floor, before finally speaking English. “Tim... where’s Tim...” Her voice cracked, barely more than a whisper. She struggled to open her eyes.

“We’re going to try to find him,” Agent Turner said, reassuring. “But we have to cooperate with a group of rebels. The mansion is under attack.”

“Under attack?” Her eyes shot open, and she flailed against their arms. “Tim—”

“We’re going to find him.” Quin knelt beside her. “Do you know where they took the time stone?”

Val jerked, staring at him. “Who are—Dr. Jones? Why are you here?” She groaned, then sagged back in the agent’s arms, not quite conscious.

The lights flickered, setting off a series of beeps and alarms. Agent Gosse swiped her hand across the console and resumed furious typing. “Something’s wrong with the hub.” She did a double-take. “This can’t be right. The sensors report that it’s dying.”

A chill tickled my arms. The hairs on the back of my neck prickled. All the dead agents, the dying hub...

I gasped. Pain picked at my brain like greedy fingers. The voices echoed, faint, coming down a long, metal corridor... Metal merging with flesh...

“Hear what?” Quin looked up from the computer and gestured to Agent Turner. “You help Val. We need to get going. Jack...”

“Already moving,” Jack muttered. The agent scooped Val into his arms and followed Jack through the next set of doors. The generator rumbled, and then crackled into silence. The room went pitch black.

I flicked out my penlight, wrapping my short vines around the device so I could have both hands free. Jack raised a finger to his lips in the tiny bright spot my penlight offered. Save for the light’s faint circle, darkness surrounded us. We crossed into another hall with more dead bodies, some burnt, others with disjointed jaws. Decorative rugs lay underfoot and elaborate tables nearby were set with doilies. We neared another door, whispers murmuring around us. The voices were indistinguishable, like something from a beastie plant, only quieter, hiding in the back of my mind. I shivered. Could the others hear them, too? Or was it just me?

Agent Turner spun, his breathing shallow. He clutched Val tighter against his chest. My penlight caught the tail end of movement—a shadow that was gone the instant I lit it. Jack inched closer, motioning toward my gun.

He nudged his head toward the wall. I tiptoed, my breathing loud in my ears. I peered around the corner. Nothing. The corridor was empty, clear of guards and beasts. Could the spirit have already attacked so many people?

The whispers grew louder as we went deeper into the mansion. I paused to rub my head. The sounds were needling, a constant presence.

I licked my lips. I must have been using the charm again. “It sounds like a beastie plant, only different. More like the Legion Spore memory attacks.”

Jack appraised me with his eyes. “Let me know if anything changes in what you’re hearing, all right?”

We followed the hall until Quin stopped at another set of decorative steel doors. My skin tingled as he pushed a door in, the whispers increasing in volume. Smoke whooshed out and Quin staggered back. Orange light flickered along the back wall despite the steam rising from soggy papers underneath a futile sprinkler system. Inside, several bodies lay slumped across the floor. Behind them was a twisted metal lump of wires, crackling with the remnants of electricity. Only the front side was visible, with a set of vaguely human beasties trapped against the contraption—

Metal and wire was screwed to our heads, held in place with sharp, cold bands—

Half of the corpses had surprised, terrified expressions locked onto their faces. Others were incinerated to nothing more than bone and ash. I licked my lips nervously and hurried from the muggy room. Jack and Quin exchanged glances. Without saying anything, we picked up the pace.

“There!” Quin gasped. A small wisp of shadow vanished from my stream of light. The agents huddled close to us, their guns aimed at the shadows.

“And Master Zaytsev,” Agent Gosse reminded us forcefully. I nodded curtly in acknowledgement.

Jack grunted, his face pale in the penlight. This nightmare of a place seemed to have drained his patience. He shouldered his way through another steel door, and this time we were greeted with oppressing heat. He cursed, covering his nose with his jacket. I ducked under the beginnings of smoke. The air shimmered, and a horrible, acrid smell of hot metal and plastic tainted the air. I pulled my shirt over my nose.

Jack shook his head, and then froze. He cursed again. “You may not want to look.” He turned to the male agent. “Keep Val out there.”

Agent Turner’s face twisted with a mixture of anxiousness, but he nodded. Quin waited with him and Gosse while I slowly made my way across the room behind Jack.

Opposite the fire was a single metal chair, wrapped in wires and dials. A colorful ribbon of twisted plastic connected into a computer mainframe with blown-out screens. The body of what might have been a young man rested in the chair, his face frozen in horror. His skin had peeled and blackened. Raw blisters covered his hands, and his eyes were sightless, long burned away.

About the only thing untouched on him where two small, smoke-tainted metal charms dangling from his neck.

“Dear Community... Tim...” I whispered. My heart sank. A lump formed in my throat. He was dead. For all I didn’t like Val, I hoped she hadn’t heard me. She didn’t need to see this.

Jack looked at the body and then began searching through the desks. I reached my fingers to Tim’s shoulder, as if to comfort him, but stopped short of touching the charred ash that had once been skin. I grimaced at the warmth still emanating from his body. I half expected his light-bulb charm to vanish, a figment of my imagination, but it remained on his chest alongside a small, silvery heart locket.

I inched my hand behind his neck, carefully avoiding the wires, and unfastened the necklace. I pulled the chain from his misshapen corpse, and slid the charms into my pocket. My fingers brushed against a piece of paper and a smooth, multi-sided object.

I frowned as I freed the note and a mottled green die from pocket lint. I hadn’t had anything in that pocket earlier.

Consider this a parting ‘good luck’ gift. Unfortunately, with the formation of Legion, the gates will be closed by the time you read this. You’re on your own now. Try to not to die.

~ Spectator

I shoved the items back into my pocket. I didn’t have time to decipher his cryptic riddles... though, from the sound of it, he wasn’t going to be helping us out much anymore.

Jack kicked the desk drawer, rattling its contents. “They couldn’t have kept the damn stone in the same place as everything else, could they?”

“What are you doing in there?” Agent Gosse peered around the steel doors. “We need to be quiet!”

We weren’t getting anywhere fast, and it was possible that the stone wasn’t even here. But Inese had insisted...

The agent groaned. “Try the door beside you, if that will hurry you up. It’s a storage room. I don’t know if they’re keeping the thing you’re looking for there, but—”

I turned toward the door she indicated, one we hadn’t bothered trying. A rectangular, slatted window ran down the side of the door, and through the smoke, I saw a tower of charred crates.

“I’ll be back in a second.” Before Jack had a chance to respond, I dashed into the room. My speed power propelled me through the dripping sprinklers. A tower of crates surrounded the room, a terrible fire hazard given the current conditions.

Three crates later, there it was: a decorative, bullet-shaped stone complete with four gold bands. Finally! I reached for the stone, then froze as a flurry of whispers wrapped around me, drowning my other senses. My blood drained from my face.

The room morphed into a crimson hall with dim yellow lights. Four muscle-and-metal columns quivered inside the Legion Spore, bracing for impact. A portal opened between them, and then fire was everywhere, burning and blinding, rupturing our hull and incinerating flesh, twisting steel and breaking the technological binding that held our organic components together. But we were ready. We are legion—

I staggered back, my heart racing. I spun around, trying to see the source of the voices.

We felt you in our mind... felt your curiosity. You were the perfect vessel to execute our plan.

I felt what the Legion Spore felt... a prying, pitiful mind reaching out in ways she didn’t understand... and we told her everything that we needed done. She delivered on our plans quite well. Far better than our previous external organic operating system...

“You... you told me what you wanted,” I whispered. I’d seen the layout of the ship in Tim’s tablet. The first Legion Spore only had two columns, not four. Lady Winters hadn’t been alive for the second one. That last memory attack, before I’d suggested the portal, had been new. I’d been too distracted at the time to notice.

A black figure emerged from the shadows. Smoke wreathed inside its body as if it were covered in a translucent, obsidian shell. A purplish light pulsed at the center of its chest, twisting and turning, and then flared across its back like crackling flames. Giant wings spread out from its shoulder blades, a deep, starless black that stretched to both walls. Burning coals dripped from the wingtips, smoldering and catching the tile floor with a flickering orange glow. Light erupted around the dark figure. Fire raced along the crates, consuming everything it touched. I raised my hand, sheltering my eyes. The figure strode forward, fire licking the smoky air behind it.

We are Legion. The corners of its lips turned to a slow smile filled with needle-like teeth as it towered over me. A blue-violet fire danced in its eyes. Save for the wispy darkness that comprised its body, I felt like I was staring into a black hole.

We will control the chaos, and this world will burn until our victory is complete. But you have done us a favor.

The realization hit me as clear as the jet was invisible, and a thrill of strange pleasure raced through me. I’d helped it become a spirit, and now, unless its artifact was destroyed, the thing would be nearly impossible to kill. Countless hours of study, lifetimes spent researching the details of Benjamin’s research and dedicated to trying to understand how the pendants worked... trying to understand how to forge immortality...

The Legion Spore project had worked, even if I wasn’t the pilot. A whole new being, more powerful than anyone could comprehend... So much potential stood before me, yet to be realized.

The spirit—Legion—widened its needle-like smile. It is unfortunate that our former external organic operating system did not share your enthusiasm. But then, this satisfaction isn’t completely yours, is it? A familiar predicament... one we can help you with. It paused, letting its words sink in. Join us, and we will make you whole.

Terror rolled through me, threatening to send me collapsing to the ground. I didn’t know whose thoughts I’d felt, but the flash of pride that had swept through me collapsed underneath the glee of that terrible presence before me. Whatever it was... I felt anger pent up inside, blossoming around it, waiting to be unleashed. The flower charm burned against my chest, begging me to dig deeper, to understand this being.

But I couldn’t. This thing was evil... just as Ivy Man had warned: a monster that needed to be subdued, but could never be killed. Because once killed, it would become this.

I couldn’t believe I was agreeing with Ivy Man. I’d felt a wrongness from that monster, and he had twisted my thoughts, my emotions, but I’d known nothing compared to this. Nothing compared to the fettered rage and glee standing before me.

Legion snorted, its annoyance washing through my mind and clearing away my thoughts of that weaker spirit... that misguided being who thought nature was so pure.

You’re conflicted, as we once were. We suppose this is to be expected. A favor for a favor, then. The dark being cocked its head, amused. It won’t be long before the superior memories win and you are more useful to us. For now, you may go. Live your miserable life of fear. The next time we meet, we will allow you a choice. Join us, and control the chaos. Embrace the immortality you crave. You would be wise to consider our offer.

The figure raised its shadowy arms and disappeared in a whirl of fire and smoke.

I stared at the spot where it had been, my vines trembling. Despite the heat, I felt as a cold as ice. Just as well that it had left now... I could still feel a tug to tell it “yes,” to tell it that I had no problem joining it now if it could get rid of that pesky fear, that weakness that was, well...

I shuddered, rubbing my arms fiercely. I had to get out of here. Whatever Ivy Man had done... Legion had found something far worse. I turned and stared at the stone. Still here. Would it solve our mistake? Prevent Legion’s existence?

I had no idea. But we needed to leave before Legion came back, before it dug into that terrifying part of the brain seed that had been utterly fascinated with its creation. Lady Winters had created the plans for the Legion Spore, but I had felt something else when confronted with that spirit. She had wanted so much more than a warship.

Smoke clogged my nostrils and the growing heat drained at my vines. I wrapped my vines around the stone, staving off the plant’s discomfort, and cradled the stone against my coat, away from direct contact. Then I rushed back through the door, leaping over fallen ceiling debris. I held up the stone. “Found it,” I gasped, my lungs burning.

“Tim?” a hoarse voice asked. Val stood in the door. Agent Turner cursed violently from the hall, shaking his hand as if she had electrocuted him. “Tim, no!” Val raced toward the body before Quin or Agent Gosse could grab her, and then let out a wail that sent chills through my spine.

Quin pulled her back. “We need to go,” he said softly. “You’ll have time to mourn later.”

He gently turned her to face him. “The building is on fire. If we don’t leave now, you will die, and so will your child. Tim wouldn’t want that.”

“That can only happen if we leave now. Try to make this easy on us, please?” Quin started to reach his arms under her, but she stepped back.

Her eyes locked on Tim’s corpse and tears streaked her remaining make-up. “I can walk on my own.”

“All right.” Quin glanced at Jack. “Can we get going before anything else goes wrong?”

“We’ve got the stone,” Jack muttered, heading out the door, “so I don’t see why not. Spent enough time in this damn place as it is.” He led the way through the hazy corridors. I stayed behind the agents, watching in case they tried anything—though I was fairly certain all they wanted was to escape.

We passed by portrait after portrait, the clockwork lanterns still ticking in the security areas. We turned the corner—a scream echoed through the corridor. A black wisp stood over a terrified Special Forces agent, its vaguely human hand outstretched to his forehead. The man’s eyes rolled back in his head. He collapsed, his scream silenced. The wisp turned toward us and a spike of fear shot through my shoulders.

We spun on our heels, rug skidding. Val’s eyes widened with fear. The wisp reappeared in front of us.

Quin side-stepped the shadow. Sweat broke out along my back as we reversed course. The black wisp reappeared mere meters away and glided toward us, a hand-like form shaping before it.

“Down!” Val hissed. I dropped automatically, shielding my eyes as lightning ripped into the shadowy form. Pain pulsed through my head at the specter’s scream.

After what felt like hours, the pain faded, leaving behind the dull throb of smoke and a long day. Jack pulled me up. I glanced at Val. “Thanks,” I said, but she stared at the empty spot ahead, her eyes burning with hatred. I didn’t think she’d heard me. We plunged through the front door, narrowly missing another wisp. Twigs and snow crunched under our feet as we rushed through the forest, retracing our footprints.

Once we reached the clearing, the jet appeared in front of us. We charged up the ramp. I plopped into the co-pilot seat. “Can you get us out of here?”

Inese blinked when she saw the two agents and she scowled at Val, but she nodded. “We’re not going to be moving as fast as we could, and it’s going to be a rough ride, but I think so.” The jet rose into the air, and then shot away from the mansion. It swayed back and forth, Inese fighting to keep it steady with its ragged wing. “I can get us close to Cedarville, and they can help us make repairs.”

I clasped the stone to my chest. Legion had gotten into the brain seed, Tim was dead, and Val’s hysterical sobbing made the image of his charred body impossible to forget.