I jumped to my feet and screamed.

“NOOOOOOOO!”

I wanted to jump in, to go after him. It was Dad, it had to be Dad. Hanging on to his last chunk of humanity, he'd escaped with the intent to end his life—knowing that it was the only way to prevent himself from participating in the demonic plan of the Stompers. I knew from my earlier visits that there was something about the waters of the Blackness—that they were deadly to the Shadow Ka. Dad had done the only thing he felt was left to him.

That was why the Gifts had not worked. The inner workings of those special powers were something beyond comprehension—that they could know it was my dad, and not allow the Gifts to hurt him or hinder his good intent. The last half hour had once again awakened me to the incredible capacity of my almost ridiculous abilities.

The swarm of Ka diving after Dad pulled up just short of the water, having just missed him before he sank below the surface. They continued their shrieks, and hovered as one, flying to and fro above where Dad had fallen. They would not so much as test the water with their claws, fully aware of its effect on them. I stood and stared, my face empty and drawn, and then sunk to my knees as my heart began to tell me that Dad had just sacrificed his life.

I looked back and forth, straining to see through the chaos of the Ka for any sign of Dad resurfacing. I screamed for him, and the tears streamed down my face. Why, why did this have to happen to him? Why did they choose him out of all the people in the world?

I knew the answer, of course. It was my fault. They did it to get to me—to make me surrender. But Dad would not let them succeed, and this was his only way. My chest heaved with an unexpected sob, and I let it all out.

“DAD!” I yelled through the tears. “DAAAAAAAAD!”

I slumped, put my hands on the ground, and hung my head. With no real concern, I glanced at my stopwatch.

Five minutes.

Who cares? I asked myself.

Four minutes, fifty seconds.

Dad cared—enough to sacrifice his life.

Four minutes, forty seconds.

I must go, I thought, or his selflessness would be a waste. I had to get out with the Red Disk.

Four minutes, thirty seconds.

Pulling myself together, I got up and ran to the Ripping.

Just before I jumped through, I heard the wet bubbling of someone surfacing in the water, and I stopped dead. Daring to hope, I looked over.

Dad was there, treading in silver water, fully healed. Fully healed. There was no trace of the beast he had been seconds before.

“Jimmy!” he yelled, his voice wet with phlegm, barely audible over the sounds of the Ka screaming above him. “Jimmy! The water saved me somehow!”

My jaw was probably hanging around my toes, and my heart had stopped completely.

“I'm coming, son!” He pushed forward his hands and began the swim back.

The Ka were not going to let him live. It was so unfair. It was such a cruel trick. Brought back from the dead in the last instant, beyond all reason or hope—all for naught. His former comrades, the ones he refused to join, were coming in for the kill.

I looked down at the watch with dread. Three minutes. I sprung into action.

I ran back the forty or fifty feet I had traveled, closer to the point to which Dad was swimming. As I ran, I called upon the Ice with a flurry of concentration. Bullets of Ice ripped through the air, swarming in from all directions, exploding Ka by Ka away from my Dad. It took every ounce of my effort, every detectable piece of will within me to keep them away.

For every one I hit, three more dove for Dad. Some made contact before I blew them off with the Ice. His shoulders were getting bloody from the scratches. I continued my assault, yelling out loud, still running. Balls of Ice shot through the air with ferocity, blasting the Ka away from Dad and into a watery death. The water was not healing them like it had my dad, but I didn't have time to figure it out. The wailing sound of dying Ka began to drown out the screams of the ones still vying to destroy my dad.

I came to a stop, now in a direct line to Dad's swimming path. His arms were weary, his face droopy with exhaustion. I couldn't spare the energy to call to him, to encourage him. It took everything I had to keep the Ka away, obliterating them with my Gift of Ice.

I could feel the seconds ticking away as I continued my barrage of frozen warfare. The point where we would never make it was fast approaching.

The Ka did not quit—oblivious to fear, oblivious to death. They attacked in pairs now, trying anything to overcome my abilities. I held firm, and Dad swam with every last bit of effort he could find within his weakened body. He was only a few body lengths away.

A Ka got through, ripping a six-inch gash across Dad's back. I blew the creature away, its scream dying out with a gurgling gasp as it sank into the sea. Another Ka ripped some hair from Dad's head before I dealt with it. It was growing more difficult—they would not be stopped.

Closer he came. Only a few feet. I just needed to touch his hand and it would all be over. I considered jumping in, but couldn't take the risk. He was almost to me—only a couple of feet from my outstretched hand. The gash on his shoulder had already healed—the magic of the Blackness that I had almost forgotten about.

The remaining Ka, sensing their last opportunity, gathered into one, just like I'd seen at the Storm World gateway, and swooped in with a vengeance. I gave up on the Ice and grabbed for Dad's hand. His fingers clasped into mine just as the mass of Ka exploded into us. Knowing his hands were wet, I took extra care as I gripped Dad's hand with every bit of strength I owned.

The Shield expanded, and the diving Ka slammed into its invisible protection. A quick series of thumps announced their collision with it, and they rebounded away in all directions, yelling their piercing calls of furious rage. Most fell into the water, the few that remained giving up and flying away, defeated, back through the Ripping fifty feet away.

Dad was exhausted. I grabbed his arms and pulled, pulling him out of the water and onto the marble path with almost no help. He was almost naked, and his skin was pale and sickly.

“Son, I'm sorry I grabbed you … sorry I put you in danger … I wasn't thinking …” were the only things he had enough energy to say.

“Dad, we don't have enough time—come on!”

Calling upon every remaining spurt of adrenaline within me, I pulled Dad's arm up and around my neck, and screamed out loud with effort as I helped him to a standing position.

“Try to walk, Dad—we're almost there, and then you can rest!”

I felt him put weight onto his legs and feet, as much as he could, and we began the long walk back to the Ripping. My right arm was wrapped around Dad's back, and my left arm pushed on his chest to help him balance as we walked. I looked at the watch on my left wrist, right below my face.

Twenty seconds.

Like two drunken men in a three-legged race, we hurried as fast as we could down the path. My body hurt with the effort of supporting Dad, and begged me to give up.

Fifteen seconds.

Step by lumbering step we shuffled down the path, getting closer with each one.

Ten seconds.

Dad stumbled, the exhaustion too much. We fell to the ground with a thump, and I looked up in panic. The Ripping was still twenty feet away. There was just no way—it was impossible. We weren't going to make it! I looked down.

Five seconds.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

The sound of static electricity filled the air, and the Ripping began to close.