“Whatever happens, it’ll be alright,” I said.
“No, it won’t,” Anna said. “You won’t leave me alone in the world.”
“And leave the world to die?”
Anna didn’t respond to that. She knew I couldn’t just abandon my mission. But I couldn’t abandon her, either. It was a dilemma I was not prepared to face. I couldn’t see how anyone could face it.
“I will find a way.” She smiled. “Don’t make me repeat it again or I’ll bonk you in the head.”
I kissed her forehead. “Let’s just not think about it. Let’s just…be.”
Anna sighed, pulling me close and settling her head against my chest. I wanted nothing more than to protect her. And yet, the only thing I couldn’t protect her from was myself and what I had to do.
Then, a thought struck me. There was one thing I could do. It was a small chance, but perhaps it was possible.
“What are you thinking?” Anna asked.
I didn’t answer for a moment. Would it work?
“I need to see Askal.”
Anna pulled back, looking up at me. “Askal?”
“I haven’t seen him since Bunker 108. Does he know where we are?”
“Yeah,” Anna said. “I think he followed us here. You were asleep pretty much the whole way, so…”
I nodded. “Where is he, then?”
“He might have returned to the Great Blight by now,” Anna said. “There isn’t much fungus up here to eat.”
I guessed that much was true. What was I planning on doing, anyway? Riding the dragon all the way in the bitter cold to the Great Blight so I could speak to the Wanderer and see if there was another way?
Then again, maybe there was a way to communicate to the Wanderer across distance. Elias, after all, had communicated with Askala. The Wanderer had appeared to me in a vision when I’d been knocked out by the sleeping spores released by the Xenolith. Maybe it had only been an effect of the spores, but maybe I could try to talk to him again. I didn’t know how I’d go about doing that — but I did it in a way that I had not done in a long, long time.
I began to pray.
I have no idea if you’re listening. But I need to talk to you.
I tried to make my thoughts go across the distance, not knowing if it would help or not.
Something’s changed, I continued. I don’t know if I can go through with this. Please. Talk to me. Tell me there is another way.
I listened for a moment, almost expecting an immediate response. I heard nothing. It had reminded me of the many times I had tried to pray as a kid. Bring my mom back. Bring my sister back. The bring-back prayers always seemed to hit an invisible wall, because when God took something, he didn’t mean to give it back.
Anna’s breaths were even. She had fallen asleep. Perhaps it would be best if I did the same.
Chapter 22
The dark sky swirled with hellish red clouds. I stood on a ridge. Instantly, I knew where I was.
Ragnarok Crater.
I looked down. My vision, at first blurry, cleared to the point where I could see every detail of the Crater, even in the dim light. The entire ridge stretched around in a haphazard circle, softened only by a thick layer of pink and orange fungus. An iridescent glow covered the land, let off by the fungus, from which sprung spindly trees and twisted limbs, interconnected in a webby labyrinth of alien growth. Strange chortles and shrieks sounded from a xenoforest that reminded me very much of a jungle.
And then, there was the Crater itself, where the vegetation was so thick that I could hardly see into it. In the very center was a molten glow out of which lava churned. Ragnarok had to have cut deeply into the crust of the Earth for the magma to bleed out like blood. That wound would take centuries to heal. The ridge marched all the way around, almost like a wall. There looked to be no discernable way to get down from the outside. The only way was to come in by air — and somehow not be killed by all of the monsters living in the pink trees and vegetation, or to die from the lava spewing from the cracks in the surface. If someone had taken me here and told me it was Hell, I would have believed them.
A veil of white smoke overhung the Crater, slightly obscuring it from view. I looked around, hoping that the Wanderer would be here. But he wasn’t. I knew this to be a vision, though it was as real as life. I could feel the cold, dry air. I could feel my boots on my feet, the tufts of fungus beneath my soles, the clothes on my back. I even felt the familiar weight of my Beretta on my right side and my knife sitting opposite.
Was this real?
Unsure, I took a few steps forward, as if testing it out. It certainly felt real enough. Had I really fallen asleep on Gilgamesh only to wake up here?
Suddenly, three xenodragons flew out from the Crater from one of the cracks in the Earth, one after the other, shrieking as they streaked into the sky like missiles. Their wings unfolded as their bodies angled upward — it was as if they had been shot out. As their momentum slowed, their wings unfurled fully, and they took to the wind with deadly grace, allowing warm updrafts to carry them further and further upward. More dragons shot from the Earth, going after the first ones. There were a dozen or so, followed by still more…
I just watched for the next few minutes as more dragons vacated the Crater. I stopped counting after fifty.
“Los Angeles is the least of your concerns now,” a voice said.
I turned around to find the Wanderer standing behind me. He had just disembarked from his completely white dragon. I hadn’t heard him land. His eyes glowed white within his hood, his cloak thick and brown about him, its tail whipped by the wind. He wore leather boots and carried his trademark walking stick.
“Is this really happening?” I asked. “Am I really here?”
The Wanderer did not answer, merely staring up at the red sky. The dragons were now turning west.
West, toward us.
“Who are they attacking?”
“The time is coming,” the Wanderer said. “The final battle is about to start. Askala has already sent her legions to the outskirts of the Great Blight.”
“But we aren’t ready! We just needed another week…”
The Wanderer smiled, as if he understood that sentiment. “Askala has always been careful, and she does not take chances. She is striking when you are weakest; when you least expect it.”
“But how are we supposed to stop that?”
The Wanderer looked upward once more. His white eyes held no answers.
“Should we…should we attack now?”
The Wanderer looked at me once again. “In the end, it doesn’t matter who among humanity comes out on top. These are trifling concerns in the grand scheme of things. Are they not?”
“So you’re saying that we should end it now?”
The Wanderer shook his head. “No. I am saying that if something isn’t done now, humanity will soon be extinct. The Radaskim are launching their final assault. There is no time for disunity. All must come together as one.” The Wanderer leaned forward, his white eyes blazing. “You must unite them.”
At last, the dragons stopped leaving the Crater. The first that had left were now specks in the sky, lost in swirling, crimson cloud. I didn’t know how long it would take them to reach…