Chapter 513: Growing Urgency

Chapter 513: Growing Urgency

Arthur Leywin

Time slipped by like water running between my fingers. I was lying on my back in the moss, staring up at the thin canopy of Virion’s small grove. Tessia lay in the crook of my arm, her head on my chest, her fingers tracing the line of my sternum, over my core. The sensation sent warm chills down my arms in a way I found pleasantly exhilarating.

“I can feel your core,” she said softly, her fingers pausing in their constant movement. “It’s pressure is like…a heavy blanket.” I felt her smile against my chest. “It’s pretty cozy, actually.”

I let out a surprised chuckle. “Then all of my work has been well worth it.”

She swatted me playfully. “I’m being serious.”

I pulled her closer, nuzzling my cheek into her hair. “So am I…”

We stayed like that for another minute or two before the silence and peace were broken by a voice in my mind.

‘I’ve convinced Seris and the dwarven lords to await your arrival in Lodenhold,’ Sylvie communicated, ‘but only just. I’d say you have about ten minutes before they come barging up into the grove to find you.’

I must have tensed, because Tessia drew away, leaning up on an elbow to examine my face.

Regis's voice followed. ‘Gideon and the rest of his cohort of kooky creatives are on the way as well. Wren Kain isn’t here, apparently. He left the moment the big hole in the sky formed.’

“Time to get back to work?” Tessia asked with a small pout. I nodded, and she gracefully rose and brushed a few strands of moss from her clothing. Even in the plain garb of someone who has been working the soil for these last weeks, she was stunning. As she looked down at me, her brows rose and her lips twisted wryly. “Don’t tell me you have to go and then look at me like that, Arthur Leywin.”

I felt myself blush, cleared my throat as I stood, and rubbed the back of my neck.

Tessia took my hand, laughing. “All the power in the world, but you still blush like a school boy in his first term.” With a tug, she led me back toward the central tree and the little house in its branches.

We made it halfway before Virion appeared, descended the stairs, and began moving to meet us. “Bairon just messaged that they’re waiting for us,” he grumbled, drying wet hands off on his dirt-stained trousers. “But I’m glad you two lovebirds had a minute or two alone. Now, Arthur, before we get down there: what in the abyss is happening in the sky?”

As we left the Elshire Grove and began descending the long series of switchback stairs that would take us directly to Lodenhold Palace, I filled Virion and Tessia in on everything that had happened.

“Damn,” Virion muttered under his breath. “Frankly, I was hoping Seris was wrong. So all that, and Agrona is definitely still out there—and with some kind of weapon we can’t even fathom.” Although he didn’t say it, I felt Virion’s thoughts turn to Elenoir and the asuran technique that had destroyed it. “I wonder why he waited so long to use it.”

“I get the impression that this wasn’t exactly his plan,” I answered, having given it a fair bit of thought myself. “This seems desperate. A last stand.”

We continued to discuss the details until we reached Lodenhold. Bairon and Varay were waiting for us.

Bairon gave me a serious nod. “Arthur. Everyone is understandably…anxious to hear what you have to say.”

“I hope they’re not expecting good news,” I said matter-of-factly.

Varay responded with the ghost of a smile—the equivalent of a huge grin on her normally inexpressive face. “They’re expecting Lance Godspell, Regent of Dicathen, to wave his hands and fix the world, naturally.”

I raised one brow and gestured for the two Lances to lead the way. “How are you adjusting to Integration?”

Varay flexed the conjured hand of ice that acted as a prosthetic in place of the arm she’d lost fighting Taci. I could feel the mana flowing through her, infusing her entire body, her channels and veins constantly circulating it even without a core.

“I am uncertain whether or not to consider myself lucky that I didn’t go through this process in the middle of the war,” she said wryly. “I do not think I have ever been so weak as I was in the weeks afterwards, and yet…”

I nodded in understanding. “Here you are with all this new power and control, and the war is over.”

“Is it though?” Virion asked from just behind us. “There may yet be cause for you to use this strength in service of Dicathen, Lance Varay.”

We reached the doorway that opened into the Hall of Lords, guarded by several armored dwarven mages. Mica was standing with her cousins, Hornfels and Skarn. At the sound of our approach, she floated up off the ground so she could look me in the eyes. She made a show of looking me over, then said, “And here I expected you’d have purple skin or horns or wings or something by now, Lord Arthur.” Although her tone was cool and distant, her initial scowl settled into a passive expression after a few seconds, and she turned and flew into the chamber ahead of us.

I followed behind but missed a step as I rounded the corner into the hall, surprised to find it entirely full.

As always, the meeting place itself was set atop the floating slate of crystal, which was reached by walking over a series of smaller floating slates, like stones across a calm river. The table at which the dwarven lords normally met had been shrunk down, allowing more room around it for a second row of chairs.

Perhaps it was the tension—or only my own mood—but the colorful crystal of the giant geode’s interior didn’t seem to flash with the same brightness they usually held.

Seris was already moving toward me, marching over the floating path with no concern for the height, even as the slates shifted slightly beneath her feet. “Arthur. I’m glad we were finally able to get your attention.”

“Seris. How bad is it?”

“Less than ideal,” she answered with a small shake of her head. In the unearthly light of the geode, her hair shone with the same amethyst quality, and her alabaster skin reflected the colors of the surrounding crystal formations. She was adorned in a black battle dress that covered her from the neck down. Her horns gleamed.

“The people are suffering, leaderless. Agrona sent a message, just before attacking the rift. Even if they fear what he’s done, the show of strength has drawn many back to his cause.”

Behind her in the packed chamber, Cylrit and Sylvie floated in the open air off to the side of the central table and platform. Mica, Bairon, and Varay moved to the other side of the chamber, while Chul and a phoenix woman—Soleil, one of the healers who had helped after Chul’s near death—hovered at the far end of the platform, behind a seated Carnelian Earthborn. Mica’s father sat at the head of the table, while the Silvershales—Daglun, Durgar, and Daymor—sat to his right. A few other representatives of powerful dwarven clans were there, as well as Gideon, Emily, and Claire Bladeheart, who wasn’t currently inside her exoform.

Lyra Dreide occupied a seat next to the one vacated by Seris. Across from her, Saria Triscan, an elven woman of middle age, had kept a couple of seats open, probably for Tessia and Virion.

“I can only assume that you’ve returned because you intend to go after him,” Seris continued. “It seems as if his greater goal requires neither Epheotus nor this world to remain intact. He is burning his own people like fuel.”

She took a deep breath, her focus turning inward momentarily. When her gaze returned to me, she gave me a look I couldn’t recall seeing from her before, not even when she’d nearly killed herself barring Agrona’s forces from the Relictombs. I felt a distinct sense of reversal from our very first meeting, so long ago, when she saved my life from Uto. “He isn’t insane, Arthur. He would only do this”—she gestured vaguely upward—“if he knew he could not only survive it, but that it would advance his goals.”

Seris returned to her seat, and I allowed Virion and Tessia to move past me and take their own. Before I could speak, the sound of quickly approaching footsteps came from the open doors behind me. I turned to see Curtis and Kathyln Glayder being led by Hornfels. Kathyln gave him a perfunctory thanks, then swept into the chamber.

I floated off the crystals and made way for them. “Well, the gang really is all here,” I said warmly. Despite the tension that had grown between the Glayders and myself after the war, I was nonetheless glad to see them. “Please, take a seat. We were just about to get started.”

“Arthur,” Kathyln said. She maintained her usual hard-held passivity, but there was a glimmer in her eyes and a tremor in her mana signature that said more than her words ever would.

Curtis frowned and gave me a shallow bow. “Arthur. Been awhile, old friend.”

There was no time for niceties, however, and so the leaders of Sapin took their seats. I wasted no more time. “The barrier that separates Epheotus from our world is broken. The pocket of molded space containing their world is collapsing. That is what you see in the sky.”

There was a roar of panicked voices, but I snapped for them to be silent, and they collectively complied.

I cast a long, hard look around at Dicathen’s leaders. Lances and lords, princes and princesses. “Let me make something clear. There is no time for panic. Your instincts might, even now, be demanding you eke out the best you can for yourselves—your people—but any individual goals you have now are nothing. Until this is resolved, we will work together, doing everything we can to ensure the survival of not only this world but of Epheotus as well.”

The Hall of Lords was entirely silent. Saria Triscan’s jaw worked silently, and Mica’s brow raised slightly, but the rest only watched me intently.

“Seris, what can you tell us about how this was done?”

All eyes turned to her. Her own hard gaze lingered in the far distance, up through the crystalline interior shell of the giant geode. “Taegrin Caelum has been inaccessible since Agrona’s false body was struck down here in Dicathen. There has been no way to verify anything for certain, but I have developed a likely working theory.”

She paused, waiting to see if anyone interrupted her. They didn’t, so she continued. “Taegrin Caelum is enormous, and full of places no one except Agrona can reach. In my probing over the years, I have discovered pockets of machinery running through the core that I believe extend far down into the roots of the mountain. It is clear now that these artifacts and devices are part of the mechanism that he utilized to draw power from all the mages of Alacrya.

“I won’t pretend to understand exactly how he has achieved this seemingly impossible act of magic, except to say that he has had more than enough time to dissect and recreate all manner of ancient djinn technologies. I suspect this technology and magic was used to power a weapon and strike the rift, which he previously failed to take control of.”

“He has a sort of djinn remnant or personality housed within his reliquary,” Tessia chimed in, looking from Seris to me. “She controls all sorts of things, as far as I can understand it, from Cecilia—from her memories.”

Soleil spoke up from where she hovered near the geode wall. “I felt the strike, the magic and energy utilized. It carried the same ferocity and disturbance of mana that the pantheons’ World Eater technique utilized when it struck Elenoir.”

I saw Virion, Tessia, and Saria all tense at the mention of the asuran technique that destroyed Elenoir.

“It seems likely he based this weapon on a similar principle to the patheons’ secret technique,” Soleil finished nervously.

“Which means if he turns it on any of our cities, that could be the end of Sapin or Darv in a blink!” the younger Silvershale son said. His face was red, but his eyes were wide and terrified. “We should have marched on Alacrya weeks ago, we told you! We warned you that—”

“It is time to mobilize,” I said over the young lord. “Only those Alacryans who actively choose to stand with Agrona are our enemies, but I do not expect to find many of them. I’m going to attack Taegrin Caelum directly, and as soon as possible. I’d like whatever forces Dicathen or Alacrya can muster.”

“You have the Beast Corps, obviously,” Gideon said immediately, slapping his hand on the table. “We’ve managed to bring a couple dozen more units online, and their pilots are trained up enough not to kill themselves in the operation of the exoforms.”

“How inspiring of confidence…” Curtis Glayder muttered.

Seris spoke next. “Caera Denoir is, at this moment, organizing what forces we have. Due to the repeated syphoning of the Alacryan people’s mana, our fighting force will be limited. Also, we’ve been made aware of sycophantic refugees attempting to brave the Basilisk Fang Mountains on foot to reach Taegrin Caelum, but I can’t say for sure what we’ll find when we get there. At the very least, they will be equally weakened by the pulses.”

Soleil cleared her throat. “My Lord Arthur, forgive me for not saying so immediately, but Mordain has decided that it is time for the Asclepius to lend their aid as well. As of an hour ago, he was gathering anyone willing to fight and preparing to leave the Hearth. You will have phoenixes in support of this mission, even if Epheotus itself does not send aid.”

I blinked, surprised. “That’s excellent news, Soleil. Thank you.”

It was a risk for Mordain to leave the Hearth and come out into the open, but I was glad to have his assistance.

I focused on Kathyln, who I hoped would speak up. Although the last few years had seen us grow further apart, she once had been a close and trusted friend. Even her symbolic support would mark a deescalation in that building tension.

But before she answered, a horrible tremor shook the very mana that suffused the air and ground around us.

The hall of lords became a chorus of moans, dismayed shouts, and pained screams. Hands pressed against heads and chests and the tremor scratched like nails on a chalkboard through everyone’s core. The floating platform suddenly listed to the right, and chairs began to slide over its surface. The table lurched, smashing into Gideon’s side of the platform and threatening to take a dozen people over the edge.

With a flash of aetheric lightning, I God Stepped below the platform and caught it from below, keeping it from tilting further. Saria Triscan plummeted over the edge in front of me, and I plucked her out of the air. At the same time, I felt the gravity of the room wobble as Mica attempted to counter the shifting waves of magical disturbance.

“Out, everybody out!” Carnelian was shouting.

I felt the shifting weight and hammering of rushed steps above me and heard the crashing of the smaller gemlike slates falling to the ground and shattering among the sharp crystalline protrusions below. Mana condensed, and vines burst out of the walls, cracking the geode as they wove together to form a bridge.

“Go!” Virion shouted.

Saria clung to me fearfully. The expression made her look younger than she was, and I suddenly saw the resemblance to Alea, the young Lance I had found dead so long ago, before we even knew Alacrya existed.

The collective mana signatures of those in attendance escaped the room just as something above sundered. I felt the air move as the geode’s roof came crashing down.

‘Ar—’

Aether wrapped around me, and I pulled Saria into the aetheric pathways to appear in the corridor outside, a few feet beyond the crowd.

‘—thur!’

Sylvie turned her head as she felt me move, looking relieved, even as dust billowed out into the hallway from the ruined Hall of Lords. Instead of looking back, her gaze turned upwards.

“What was that?” Lord Silvershale demanded, looking around as if anyone there might have answers.

I didn’t bother with them, but eased Saria down and instead pulled Sylvie, Chul, Tessia, and Seris to me. Seris, in particular, looked at me with some confusion, but then God Step was activating again, and all five of us were pulled through the pathways. Normally, I had to see where I was going, but with my new godrune active as well, I found that my sense of the space around me was drastically enhanced. In an instant, we were standing atop the sun-baked dunes.

“Vritra’s horns,” Seris muttered, her hand going to her mouth.

“I do not like the look of that,” Chul said simply.

I stared into the sky, mouth open, mind momentarily blank.

The wound was ripping at the edges, space coming apart like flesh under too much force. The bloody-red aurora oozed grotesquely around it as the edges widened. Belatedly, I reached for my sense of the folded space keeping it in check, but the bindings were gone. They’d collapsed as the wound widened.

“Damn it,” I muttered. Then, as the words were still leaving my tongue, the bottom dropped out of my stomach.

A piece of land—a dense forest full of willow-like trees covered in pink-dappled leaves—jutted out through the wound like a shard of broken bone sticking up from torn skin.

“No…” Sylvie breathed, her pulse leaping.

The Epheotan land began to break apart and, like a meteor shower entering the atmosphere, fell glowing toward Dicathen.

It was difficult to get a sense of the scale. The wound now dominated almost the entire sky, stretching from horizon to horizon. As the giant chunks of rock, earth, and forest split apart, some seemed to fall as nothing but specks in the distance, far beyond the Grand Mountains, while others grew larger and larger.

“Look!” Tessia pointed, grabbing my hand and squeezing fiercely. Her extended finger indicated a series of seven or eight broken pieces of land that were clearly going to fall in the desert around us.

The ground shook as, beside me, Chul launched into the air. His form glowed fire-orange as he streaked toward the largest of the broken pieces of land. Seris began conjuring a cutting wind of void magic, rapidly swirling into a towering tornado. Tessia cast a spell, and the plants of another shattered chunk of Epheotan soil exploded outward, trailing through the air and slowing the meteor’s ascent. Regis leapt from me, his body pulsating as it expanded, wings spreading out from his back, and then his hulking, jagged Destruction-form shot into the air, amethyst flames building in his chest as he prepared to obliterate another of the tumbling pieces of ground.

A ripple went out through the aether, and time slowed to a crawl. I glanced at Sylvie—only the two of us and Regis were unaffected—and sent a quick thought, then with God Step and King’s Gambit both empowered, I formed my aether into a blade, lined up my strike, and swept the weapon in a wide arc.

There were flashes of violet light from the closest bits of falling landmass not already being targeted by my companions. For a breath, nothing happened, then time jerked back into full speed, and half a dozen small, tree-studded islands exploded in the air, raining down rubble instead of colliding with the desert with the force of their full mass.

Seris’s wind caught, slowed, and chewed apart a large mass. Chul’s hammer, blazing with orange fire, rammed into the bottom of a spiraling hunk of stone, soil, and tree roots, shattering it. Regis burned another away to nothing with a gout of Destruction-infused breath.

Three hundred feet away, another mass of forestland collided with the desert sands, sending up a towering plume of golden silt.

Farther, many miles in the distance, we saw other collisions. Clouds of dust and debris rose into the air in a dozen places, suddenly and viscerally reminding me of bombs being dropped from planes back on Earth, during the long war I oversaw…

From the corner of my eye, I noticed Seris frown and reach into a hidden pocket within her dress. She unrolled a small scroll, on which burning letters were currently being written.

“What is it?” I asked, although I already suspected the truth from the few words I could make out.

“Another pulse from Taegrin Caelum.” She looked up at the wound in the sky, the red reflecting in her eyes. “Caera is reporting mass casualties this time.”

I winced. “And your fighting forces?”

She sighed, a flicker of guilt crossing her porcelain features. “Most are shielded in the Relictombs’ first level, awaiting orders. They will be ready to fight.”

“Arthur!”

I looked up to find Tessia focused on the landmass her parachute of plant life had brought slowly to the ground. For a moment, I thought her conjured vines and broad leaves were moving, but only for a moment.

I God Stepped, appearing ten feet from the crumbling mound just as a mana beast like a legged, three-headed snake leapt out of the undergrowth. I had a blade in my hand and was swinging before the creature’s paws had even touched the sand, and yet it still managed to twist away from my attack, two heads darting left to add momentum to its body while one dipped low and struck toward me.

I brought my knee up to catch it under the chin as I turned, and the serpent-like head and long neck rocked. The aether blade came down across the neck, severing the head, which tumbled through the air. A spray of venomously green liquid arced from its fangs, splashing me across the neck. I hissed at the pain, flinching back, and missed the second head as it snapped forward, sinking into my calf.

From the corner of my eyes, I saw a second of the beasts lunge, but the thick vines lashed out and wrapped around it, dragging it back toward the patch of forest.

A flick of my blade severed the second neck of the beast I was fighting. I spun past a strike from the third, and hacked it from the beast’s body as well. The body itself, like that of a bloated snake that had eaten a wild cat, the legs of which then burst from its belly, stumbled back and forth for a moment before slumping to the ground.

Chul crashed down from above, leading with his weapon. The round head blazed with phoenix fire as it smashed through the second Epheotan beast’s spine, killing it instantly.

I raised a hand to my neck, where the skin had melted from the acidic spit. When I took a step, I hitched, feeling the burning venom attempting to dissolve my leg from within.

The others finally caught up with me. Tessia was staring at my wounds in horror, but the rest had seen me in much worse condition. Aether was already rushing to the wounds, fighting out the venom and healing the damaged tissue. But if it had been anyone else…

I scanned the horizon and found movement. A quarter mile away, a similar snakelike mana beast was dragging itself from another impact sight.

“Shit,” I muttered.

Options began to spread out before King’s Gambit like scrolls and parchment at a war council.

If the wound stretched all the way to Alacrya, this newest pulse from Agrona’s machinery could have unsettled it, ripping it free of the folded space and allowing it to expand again. Even with Kezess’s people working to hold it in place on the other side, Epheotus was already beginning to come through.

The falling debris itself was a danger—a large enough mass striking a populated area would level an entire city. If someplace like Xyrus were struck, the entire population could be wiped out in a moment. We’d just proven that it was possible to prevent some collisions, but how many mages in Dicathen were capable of knocking these masses out of the sky before they did damage?

But the physical impacts were only half the problem. These Epheotan mana beasts were almost ubiquitously S-class or stronger, by Dicathen’s standard of measuring strength. Just a few could prove a catastrophe if unleashed near populated areas. The wounds I was already healed of would have put any but the very strongest mages out of commission, if not killed them outright. Even an army of dwarves and humans would struggle to put down a wave of such creatures. Dicathen would need immediate and sure-footed leadership, and warriors capable of holding their own against Epheotan beasts.

At the same time, news of a third pulse from Agrona’s machines meant he had likely regained whatever power had been spent in his strike against the rift. If that was true, then it was even possible he might use the weapon again. If he struck the rift a second time, what kind of escalation might happen? As yet more collapsing chunks of Epheotus rained down in the distance, I tried to imagine all of Epheotus’s magically expanded continent suddenly slamming into the Grand Mountains, but I couldn’t fully comprehend the cataclysmic proportions of such an act of destruction.

I couldn’t stay and defend Dicathen, because I needed to face Agrona directly. He had to be prevented from absorbing more power or utilizing his weapon again—perhaps targeting it at Xyrus this time, or Darv, or Etistin. Regardless of how he used it, I knew that if he was allowed to use it again, the resulting destruction would almost certainly make it impossible to achieve the vision of the future I’d shown to Fate.

My mind sorted through all these thoughts and more in the space between one breath and the next. I scanned the faces of those present, considering how best to use each of the soldiers at my command.

Sylvie and Regis were a part of me, and their natural insight into aevum and vivum may prove necessary in the conflict to come.

Chul was a warrior of unmatched caliber in either Dicathen or Alacrya, and although his defence of the people against the crumbling Epheotus would certainly be impactful, I knew he would accept nothing other than fighting Agrona at my side.

I needed Seris in Alacrya, of course, even more so now.

Finally, my gaze settled on Tessia. If it weren’t for the cool rationality of King’s Gambit, I would have tasted bile in the back of my throat. Like Ellie and Mom, I couldn’t afford to tuck her in a safe place. If this were a Sovereign’s Quarrel board, I needed to utilize all my pieces to the best of both my and their abilities.

Tessia had remained aware through most of her ordeal in Alacrya. She had spent more time with Agrona than even Seris, and seen much of Taegrin Caelum’s inner workings. No part of me wanted to bring her into that place, but I knew our chances of success were better with her than without.

It was then that the others finally reached the surface. Cylrit flew out of a distant opening hidden within a ravine, followed rapidly by the Lances and then Soleil. Mica and Varay carried most of the council on sheets of stone and ice. They didn’t come to us, but stopped just outside the ravine, collectively staring around at the burning detritus falling from the wound, and the raw, raging wound itself.

At the same time, I sensed the powerful mana signatures coming from the east. Rays of blinding orange phoenix fire destroyed several dozen falling masses between Darv and the Grand Mountains, and a couple dozen specks appeared in the distance, rapidly growing larger.

A plan coalesced. I flew toward Gideon, ignoring panicked questions shouted by the other leaders. “Send out the Beast Corps. Map strike points and focus on defending populated areas. If we have exoforms capable of destroying the landmasses before impact, make sure they’re located in cities. I want ten—Claire Bladeheart and her best soldiers—ready to depart to Alacrya immediately. I trust you can get one of the new long-range portals activated.”

My attention shifted to the leaders. “Get your forces together. We need messengers to the Alacrya settlements: They should fall back behind the Wall. Send the Adventurers Guild to more remote settlements. A lot depends on exactly where the rubble is falling. If necessary, evacuate civilians into the deeper tunnels throughout Darv, where they’ll be sheltered from the worst of the impacts.”

I turned away, once again ignoring pleas and follow-up questions from the huddled dwarves and elves. Feeling within me, I took hold of the aetheric tether Myre had conjured and pushed out through it. Kezess, if you can hear me, we need more help. Epheotus is coming through, raining down on Dicathen and likely Alacrya. Beasts, too. The entire continent is going to be obliterated by a meteor shower if we don’t do something.

There was a moment where nothing happened. I watched as the distant specks marking Mordain and his phoenixes raced toward us at incredible speed.

‘Arthur. We are doing everything we can. I cannot risk leaving the wound, nor will I send anyone through until we have it stabilized again. This is Agrona’s doing—find him and kill him. Now.’

My jaw clenched, and my fists tightened until they ached.

It wasn’t good enough, but I knew it would be a waste of my mental energy to argue with him.

Instead, I rose into the air and flew to meet Mordain. The ancient phoenix, flanked by almost thirty of his kin, arrived only moments later. Most of the phoenixes did not stop, but fanned out, continuing to destroy falling debris and hunting mana beasts across the desert floor.

“Arthur,” he began, his normally passive, kindly face now twisted with anxiety and indecision. “The Asclepius have come to help however we can. Wren Kain and the rest have already spread out, heading to the far corners of this continent. A few remain in the Beast Glades to help stabilize the rift from this side.”

I held out my hand and took his gladly. “Your timing couldn’t be better. I know what a risk it is for you, and I thank you for it. The people of this continent need aid. We need to stop as much of this debris as possible.”

Mordain gave me a weak smile, but the strength that emanated from him was anything but. “Of course. We will do whatever we can.” His eyes slipped off me, up to the sky. “There is no undoing this, Arthur.”

I rested a hand on his shoulder, following his gaze. “No, maybe not, but whatever happens to Epheotus, I have another problem to take care of first.”

Mordain was silent as I turned back to my companions, the pieces of my plan still rapidly sliding into place. “Get ready,” I said simply. “One way or another, this is the beginning of the end.”

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