Part 22 (2/2)
”Heat brings life...”
Even as Prometheus was speaking, the landscape before Josh's eyes was changing impossibly quickly: vast swaths of gra.s.slands appeared, and died away, replaced by trees that rose spectacularly high only to crumble and be replaced by smaller trees, ferns and bushes.
”... in all its myriad forms.”
And now the animals appeared. Small at first, then morphing into huge hideous beasts, pelycosaurs and archosaurs. Josh knew these were the creatures that had predated the dinosaurs. Fascinated, he tried to look around this primeval world, but the images flickered past, leaving little more than an impression of scales and fur, claws and teeth.
”And fire destroys...”
The sky darkened; lightning flashed, and then fire ravaged the forest, and in a single instant the world was blackened, the trees scarred with the evidence of a terrible conflagration.
”Fire destroys, but it also creates. A forest needs fire to thrive; certain seeds depend on it to germinate.”
And at the base of the trees, brilliant green shoots poked through the cinders, twisting and writhing up to the light...
”And it was fire which warmed the first of my people, the humani, allowing them to thrive in harsh climates.”
The forest died, and was replaced by a desolate ice-locked landscape, rocky and snow-covered. But on a cave-dotted cliff face, tiny fires burned brightly.
”Fire allowed the first humani to cook their kills, and made it easier for them to digest the nutrients from the meat they hunted. It kept them warm and safe in their caves, and the same fire hardened their tools and weapons, turned soft clay into pots, even sealed their wounds. Fire has driven every great civilization from the ancient world right up to the present day.”
A modern city grew before Josh's eyes, gla.s.s and steel and concrete, highways and bridges, skysc.r.a.pers and suburbs, rail lines and airports.
”And the fire which created this planet can also destroy it.”
A huge mushroom cloud blossomed in the center of the city directly in front of Josh, the light at its heart brighter than any sun, burning everything in its path... and a heartbeat later, all that remained was an incinerated wasteland.
”This is the power of fire,” Prometheus said.
And suddenly Josh was back in the study, sitting in the lounger. He looked at the Elder and tried to speak, but his mouth was dry, his lips cracked, and his tongue felt thick and heavy.
”Every living thing on this planet-and in the Shadowrealms, too-exists because of fire,” Prometheus said quietly. In the gloom, his eyes were bright, burning red. ”We carry its spark deep within.” Reaching over, he tapped Josh in the center of the chest with his index finger. The young man shuddered as a wash of heat tingled through his body. ”Josh, the Magic of Fire is linked to your aura, and yours is one of the most powerful I have ever encountered. But you need to know that your aura is inextricably bound to your emotions. You must be careful, so very, very careful. Never call upon the Magic of Fire when you are angry. Fire is the one magic that must be called upon only when you are calm; otherwise, it can rage out of control and consume everything-including you.”
Josh managed to gather enough saliva to croak out, ”But when do I learn the magic?”
Prometheus chuckled. ”You already have. Open your hands.”
Josh looked down. He was still holding the Aztec sunstone in his right hand, but he'd covered it with his left. When he lifted his left hand, the stone came with it. It was stuck to his skin. Puzzled, he looked at the Elder.
”Wait,” Prometheus whispered.
Suddenly Josh's left hand glowed gold and an agonizing pain shot up the length of his arm. He gasped; then he smelled oranges and the pain vanished.
The sunstone dropped to the ground.
And when he turned his hand over, he discovered that the Aztec face had seared into the flesh of his palm. It resembled a black tattoo. ”A trigger?” he whispered.
”A trigger,” Prometheus said. ”When you wish to call upon the Magic of Fire, visualize the type of flame you would like to create and press the thumb of your right hand to the face.”
Josh looked at the barbaric image burned into his palm and grinned. This was way cooler than Sophie's boring circle tattoo.
”Leave me now,” Prometheus said. ”Get some rest. Tomorrow is going to be a busy day.” The Elder sat back into his chair and reached for his remote control. He watched the boy climb unsteadily to his feet.
”Thank... thank you,” Josh mumbled.
”You're welcome... Oh, and Josh-try not to burn yourself too often.”
CHAPTER FIFTY.
In the heart of the Catacombs beneath Paris, the Elder Mars Ultor awoke. For a single instant his eyes were a brilliant blue, but they quickly turned an ugly burning red.
The boy, the twin, the one he had Awakened, the one he was connected to, had mastered his second magic, the Magic of Fire.
Closing his eyes, forcing himself to ignore the pain that ate away at his entire body, he looked through the boy's eyes and found he was staring into the face of his wife's brother: Prometheus. He broke the connection instantly, afraid that the Elder would sense his presence. Mars Ultor, the Avenger, who feared nothing and no one, was terrified of the Firelord.
Then, almost reluctantly, he concentrated on visualizing the English Magician's face, and when Dee turned his head to look up with wide gray eyes, the Elder said: ”It is done.”
”It is done.” John Dee jerked awake with such force that he fell out of the chair and sprawled on his burnt hands. The pain was excruciating, but he ignored it: his dreamless sleep had been interrupted by the image of the Sleeping G.o.d, Mars Ultor, trapped in his bone prison deep beneath Paris. In his dream the Elder's eyes had opened and looked at him, and Dee heard him speak behind the mask.
”It is done. The boy has mastered fire.”
Climbing to his feet, Dee cradled his arms across his chest and pressed his forehead against the cool gla.s.s wall. Focusing, he visualized Mars Ultor's prison in precise detail, until he could actually see the imprisoned Elder. ”I want the boy,” he said aloud.
And on the other side of the world, bloodred smoke curled from the Sleeping G.o.d's eyes. ”Josh,” Mars whispered. ”Josh.”
Exhausted and sore, Josh Newman lay back on the hard uncomfortable bed and closed his eyes. A single heartbeat later, he was asleep.
And then his eyes snapped open.
No longer blue, they were the same color as Mars Ultor's.
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE.
Scathach caught the hint of movement above them and jerked Joan to one side... in the instant before Saint-Germain tumbled out of the air to land in a heap at their feet.
The immortal sat up and fastidiously dusted himself off as the two women looked at him in astonishment. He was just standing up when there was a crash in the undergrowth behind them. The two women turned, weapons ready... as Palamedes and William Shakespeare strolled out of the long gra.s.s.
”When shall we three meet again!” Shakespeare said with a smile that exposed his bad teeth.
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