In a frictionless environment, things in motion stayed in motion — including elves.
They slid fast toward each other. Oilcan tried a blast against Iron Mace’s shield. The force was redirected without changing Iron Mace’s angle of motion. Iron Mace twisted as they passed each other like two freight trains, and blasted the ground ahead of Oilcan. A great crater appeared.
Oilcan ignored the oncoming disaster to keep Iron Mace focused tightly on him and not on where he was heading. A childhood of racing go-karts on the island had taught Oilcan to never lose track of the river’s edge. It was a lesson Iron Mace learned the hard way when he flew off the end of the parking lot and out over the water. Like a flat stone, he skipped three times before sinking.
It turned out that tumbling into a massive crater at twenty miles per hour wasn’t painful when Oilcan had his shield spell up. He scrambled quickly back up to the edge of the crater. Iron Mace’s shield was still active under the muddy water, drifting downriver like a massive hamster ball. It was possible that the elf could save himself, but he was against a ticking clock — there was only so much air trapped in the shell with him. Iron Mace cast a scry spell. The river and its currents were mapped out, bisected by the Emsworth Dam and the powerful undertow beyond it.
“Yes, bastard,” Oilcan whispered. “You need to get out before you hit that.”
The current was going to sweep Iron Mace across the river and up against the high walls of the lock on the far bank. Annoyingly, there was even a ladder there for someone to scramble up from a boat. It would be impossible for a human to climb it with one hand, but an elf’s longer reach meant Iron Mace could do it and maintain his shield.
Oilcan slid to the edge of the parking lot and took off running for the dam. Tommy was right about needing the strength to do the hard thing, because this fight was to the death. Iron Mace had to kill Oilcan and anyone else that might know about what he’d done. He had dug a deep, deep hole, and the only way out was to fill it with bodies. Oilcan had to be sure that the elf never got out of the river. He held close to the anger thrumming through him, hot and heady. So, how did he kill this bastard?
There was no way Iron Mace could go near the sluicegates without being swept over the dam. Beyond the gates was a dangerous undertow that would pin Iron Mace under water. The only safe way out was the ladder. It was the same heavy steel as the catwalk, bolted solid into the cement wall of the lock. If Oilcan hit it with a force strike, it would blast the entire ladder to shards.
He could mark Iron Mace’s position by the circling jumpfish. Oilcan reached the end of the catwalk and scrambled down to the lock’s wall. At the top of the ladder, he cocked his fingers, brought his hand to his mouth, and then paused. If he blasted the ladder now, Iron Mace might just find another way out of the water. As long as the male maintained his shield, he was safe to find another way. If Oilcan waited and cast the spell while Iron Mace was holding on to the ladder. .
The result would be awful and utterly necessary. It went against everything Oilcan tried to be, but he wouldn’t have a second chance to take Iron Mace while vulnerable. So he waited, hating himself, trying to hold tight to his anger. This male had attacked him in his home. Had left his kids defenseless. Had come to Neville Island to kill Tinker.
The last brought the rage he needed.
Iron Mace surged up out of the water and caught hold of the lowest rung. Jumpfish were bouncing off the elf’s shield, trying to snatch him off the wall. Oilcan waited until the male had heaved himself up, swearing and grunting with effort, and got a foot onto the rung and grabbed the second rung tight.
Oilcan tapped the Spell Stones. Iron Mace looked up, eyes going wide in surprise. Oilcan closed his fist tight in the force strike. Iron Mace’s hand and foot shattered along with the steel of the ladder. The male screamed, falling backward, his shield vanishing as he flailed in pain, and the jumpfish took him.
45: IMPATIENCE
For reasons that weren’t clear to Tinker until much later, Oilcan, Tommy Chang, and Riki Shoji all showed up after the fireworks were over. Thankfully, they had Oilcan’s kids, minus Rustle, safe among them.
“Hey,” Oilcan called as he scrambled through the wreckage of what had been their home. She whimpered at the sight of him, his eyes and ears proof that he wasn’t human anymore. He looked young and haunted, but at least he was alive. She caught hold of him and hugged him despite his efforts to check her for new cuts and bruises.
“You had me worried with that last explosion.” His voice was his own, rough with emotion. “I’m sorry about the hotel.”
She closed her eyes and focused on his voice and the hammering of his heart, like he had just run a race. “It’s just a thing. All things wear out eventually.”
“Usually not so spectacularly.” He unknowingly echoed her thoughts about Ginger Wine’s.
She clutched him tighter, giggling. “Well, you’re finally showing the family destructive gene.”
He head-butted her gently. “One occurrence doesn’t indicate a trait.”
“We’ll see. Time will tell.” Tears filled her eyes as she realized that they had forever to see. How could something be in theory a good thing and yet feel so awful?
“Hey, don’t.” Oilcan wiped at her tears. “Or I’ll sic Pony on you.”
“No fair.” She scrubbed at her eyes with the back of her good hand. “I’m fine.”
“Is — is this Chloe Polanski?” Riki had discovered the body that Tinker had covered up with a deflated seahorse float.
“She’s a Skin Clan intanyai seyosa,” Tinker said. “She engineered all this so I would figure how the kids tapped their ability and God knows what else. Oh, Oilcan, I’ve screwed up bad. I’ve lost Rustle.” Tinker waved a hand at the gleaming spell shell. “Well — sort of lost him. I think he’s still right here — but I don’t know how to get him out. Yet.”
Oilcan stalked around the spell, eyeing the gleaming runes. “It’s just a two-layered spell? The divination spell from before and a focusing array?”
Tinker sighed. “Yeah. The weirdness is all Rustle. Look at this.” She knelt beside the gleaming spell to point out the earbuds and the pinpoints of blues and greens. “It’s reacting to the music. Really, it’s resonance that I think is key. Providence spoke of worlds in harmony. If you think of each world represented by a single note, then the linked worlds will. .” Tinker’s knowledge hit a void, and she looked at Oilcan to fill in the words.
“The next note in the chord.”
“Yeah, something like that. String theory states that subatomic particles behave like vibrating strings. Subatomic particles make atoms; atoms build into molecules, which form our DNA. If each world has one grand note, then every living creature would have that note built into its DNA. We resonate to the world of our DNA, so the kids, having dragon DNA, have at least two different ‘notes.’ They might have a ‘chord’ structure. Heck, since the dragons can travel between matter and worlds, the dragons might even start with a chord structure. I think applying a large amount of magic to Rustle allows him to change notes, sliding to the next world in harmony.”
“He’s on Onihida?” Oilcan said with alarm.
Tinker made calming motions. “It’s possible that he’s on all the worlds at once. It depends on how diffused he is.”
“What?”
“I don’t think it’s hurting him. The iPod is still playing!”