Fehn leapt through Ruxbane’s portal before it closed. He wrestled the Rokkir into a headlock, fighting to make him release Jace, but Ruxbane lashed out with his free hand. A room-wide whip of aether followed its path. Tayel dropped to her stomach. The aether flashed overhead, tossing her hair and crashing through the workstations to her right. Metal screeched apart, and a clamor of whining sirens exploded from the ruptured machines. She pushed herself up.
Ruxbane had gathered another thundercloud of aether around him. He spun around, slamming Jace against Fehn to stop his attack. Fehn and Jace cried out together, and Ruxbane unleashed the mass of power he’d been holding. They were lost in the wave of darkness. Its violent wake threw Tayel off balance. The wave exploded across the right wall, crushing the workstations and platforms until all that remained was rubble and dust.
“NO!” Tayel scrambled to the edge of the debris.
She dug her hands in hopelessly, pulling away chunks of dashboard as exposed wires caught her gloves. No red feathers. No sheen of a cyonic limb. Nothing.
Shy’s panicked gasp as she and Balcruf finally entered the room snapped Tayel out of the urge to break down. There wasn’t time to search. She wasn’t done. They’d thrown everything at this damn Rokkir, and he still hadn’t fallen. She met his gaze. His chest rose and fell rapidly. Sweat mixed with blood slid down from his hairline. She wasn’t a warrior — she wasn’t Fehn or Shy or even Balcruf — but at least that monster was as tired as she was. She squeezed her baton’s handle, feeling the vibrations of the ball as it spun in its crevice, and charged.
The fatigue in Ruxbane’s expression morphed to a confident smirk. He snapped his fingers, and the ground beneath Tayel vanished. She cried out and fell halfway through the portal. The wind knocked out of her as she caught herself on what remained of the floor around her, but with nothing else to grab onto, her fingers slid against the flat surface. She slowly fell back to dangle between two worlds.
“Help!” Her shout didn’t rise about the fight that broke out.
The other-worldly sounds of aether met once again with whistling bolts and maneuvering footfalls. Tayel struggled against the portal’s pull, panic fuzzing out her vision. The cold darkness wrapped around her legs like a veil of ice. Her hands became clammy from the strain. Wherever rested below, she wouldn’t come back from it. She just knew she wouldn’t. Someone had to help her. Any second, Shy would appear. Her or even… Tayel choked at the thought of Fehn — and at the thought of Jace that immediately followed.
Balcruf’s agonized howl echoed off the walls somewhere behind her. Everyone would die in this place. Everyone except her. That Rokkir would get what he wanted after all. Remembering the refugees in Castle Aishan marching to the tune of the strange liquid placed in their heads made Tayel scream for help again. She couldn’t become some mindless slave in Ruxbane’s army. She wouldn’t.
She thrust her right hand forward and smacked it to the floor a few inches ahead of where it had been, re-engaging her grip. A pain ripped up her side at the motion.
Shy screamed, and the twanging note of whatever aether had hit her sang out like a whip. The clatter of her polearm on the floor tightened Tayel’s throat.
She stopped breathing. Stopped thinking. Stopped feeling. She kicked the thick air beneath her and lunged forward, both her hands sticking to the steel. She did it again and again, clawing her way forward until her elbow overcame the lip of the portal. She pushed off it like a lever and tore free, ripping up the fallen mag baton and willing herself to stand.
Across the room, beside the exit to the corridor, Ruxbane loomed over Shy, aether gathering in his fists. Tayel dug her fingers into the baton handle. The steel ball in the crevice whirred to max speed and she launched it, aiming right at his head. It connected with an explosive, satisfying crack.
He staggered rightward. Didn’t drop — didn’t die — staggered. Doubt rooted Tayel in place — she had to think, had to plan — but Shy moved at the sight of her, wincing as she dug a glint of gray steel out of her coat pocket. She lobbed it. Tayel jumped forward, positioned herself right where it would land, and caught the cold metal out of the air. Locke’s prototype, still charged. Her heart rose into her throat.
Ruxbane recovered. He let loose an enraged shout and swung back to Shy. A wave of dark aether knocked her against the wall and pinned her there as he gathered another storm in his free hand.
Tayel bolted toward him. The half of her that longed to flee screamed out in panic: she would die, she’d be caught, she’d never see anyone she loved ever again. But she wouldn’t run away. She wouldn’t let Shy die without a fight. Thirty seconds of shielding from Ruxbane’s attacks wouldn’t do any good anyway. Unless — she rose the baton to strike — thirty seconds of shielding would count for everyone. Her eyes widened at the thought — at the idea behind the thought.
When you’re ten points behind in the last quarter of a magball game, unthinkable risks become the only options. Tayel saw little difference now with so little left to lose. She dropped her baton, leapt through the air, and tackled Ruxbane.
He swayed with the momentum of the attack he’d lost. She pulled all her weight against his arm, dragging him down with her. He tugged back. She caught his gloved hand before it could slip out of her grip, forced it steady, and slapped the prototype around his wrist. Her thumb just grazed the activation button as he swatted her away.
She hit the wall hard, but shook the daze away. Ruxbane clambered to a stand. The portal she’d nearly fallen through evaporated out of existence behind him, and Shy toppled to the floor. Tayel’s heart raced. Ruxbane drew back his fist. She held her breath as Shy shouted a warning, and he slashed through the air toward her.
Nothing happened.
No dark aether. Not even a breeze.
“What did you do?” Shy breathed.
Ruxbane’s expression twisted into a mixture of terrified, widened eyes and a confused scowl, and he raised his left hand, focused on the ticking gray band around it. He shrunk into himself, shoulders jutting up to his reddening ears. He scratched at the band as it refused to give. Tayel stood.
Guilt hit her harder than the wall had at the desperate way he looked at her. He took a step back, and her one forward. She didn’t have time to be indecisive. She literally had seconds, and when those seconds were up, guilt certainly wasn’t going to stop him. She picked up her mag baton.
He held up his hands. “Please. Wait. I didn’t want this.”
Neither did she. She attacked him, grimacing at the baton’s tremors as each hit met its mark. She didn’t want the raiders to invade her homeworld. She didn’t want her mom to die or for Jace — Alhyt, Jace — to be torn away from his family. She didn’t want to learn those invaders had been forced into servitude — literally brainwashed to slaughter people — or to see an entire civilization brought down by a world-shattering siege. She understood not wanting things to happen better than anybody. If Ruxbane felt the same, maybe he shouldn’t have started it all.
She swung again, and the impact sent him sprawling across the floor. The baton slipped from her numb fingers as his body shuddered. His skin evaporated away into wisps of darkness. They seeped upward into a black cloud, peeling away his body until it completely vanished. The center of the quivering mass that had formed lit up into a maze of spiraling, twisted, node-like patterns, and pulses of purple light rippled out from the center, almost like a heartbeat.