"Let everything slip past. Got it," Christian said. He closed his eyes and started to breathing evenly. The floor felt exceptionally hard against his bare rump. Why did the air have to seem extra-clammy now that he was sitting? His knee itched in a most aggravating fashion. He wanted to peek, to see how hard everyone was staring at him. Was this some ridiculous prank at his expense? His heart beat faster in his anxiety. Calm down, he told himself. He was working himself into a frenzy for no reason. These were people who cared about him and his well-being. They weren't likely to pull a stupid joke at this point. Think calm thoughts. The memory of the light reflecting in the fountain came to mind. That was a good place to start. Think about that, the way it sparkled, the way the wind and spray ruffled the surface of the water, with no rhythm or pattern. He started to let his mind drift.
It is time.
It is time.
Please, it is time.
He stood, staring at himself in that empty black space.
It is time.
I am coming.
He grabbed his other self's hand and started pulling him along. It felt like floating, or falling, or perhaps a bit of both. His back hit something solid. Shoving, both of them shoving, it started to crack, to yield.
It is open. Please, come now.
He caught hold of his hand and pulled. Terrible, unyielding resistance.
I cannot come. I am shackled still.
There had been a sense of impending crisis throughout the day. He'd gotten up, tried to find some sort of comfort or relief in the achingly cold tower cell, and instead paced restlessly about the room. It was hideously quiet in the courtyard below, no one braving the wind that howled from the plains, fragments of ice scouring flesh to rawness in mere minutes. He kept a steady thread of magefire drawn, just enough to keep himself alert and connected to the other self. What a horrid conundrum he would be, if he ever was one whole being again! It would be a long time before this part of himself would feel safe, and he felt so impossibly old, as though he had lived an entire lifetime in that tower.
He tried, for a moment, to reach out to the other, but felt nothing but the vaguest sense of him. Preoccupied, then. A pity, he could have used the company. It had been far too long since he had seen anyone other than the odd servant, and they seemed to be in a rush of late. He'd been wanting to ask the Queen about the eye at the door, if he ought to be concerned, but neither she nor the eye had reappeared since that day. How long had it been? Time was such a fuzzy construct to him these days. The vague light that masked the passage of day into night, the odd bits of sleeping and waking, the unrelenting sameness of the room and his routine, it all ate away at his sense of time. He might have been there for decades, for all he knew. Had he been forgotten, perhaps? Had the King learned of the Queen's secrets and had her imprisoned or executed or exiled? Surely he would have found Christian out if that were the case.
The rustle of silk and the sound of an immense key in the lock stopped his breath in his throat. The door swung open, and Her Majesty hurried into the room. Christian knelt before her, even as she crossed over to him.
"We must make haste, way-walker," she said in quiet terror. "My Witch seeks to close the rift between you and yourself."
"When?" he asked, glad that he had chosen to kneel. He might have collapsed in giddy relief otherwise.
"Now," she replied, crouching beside him. He could feel, or thought he could feel, the gentle pull through to the in-between space. "But you must be swift. I believe that you are no longer safe here."
"I am coming," he whispered to his own pleadings. To the Queen, though, he asked quietly, "Why am I in peril?"
"I think that His Majesty knows that you are here." Even as she said this, and his stomach knotted terribly, the door creaked open the merest gap. A small sobbing child (for a child it did seem, hideous though it was) squeezed into the room and rushed to the Queen's arms. Christian's blood ran cold, for the child's one bright eye was a match for the one that had been peering under the door. The other eye was shut, bloodied and raw-looking.
"Mama!" the child screamed, burying its face into her skirts and veils. "I didn't want to tell him, Mama! I didn't want to tell!"
"Where is he?" the Queen asked, soothing the child. The sharp, distant ringing of iron-clad boots fast approaching answered the question. She spun towards Christian, a glimpse of one wide, terrified eye visible through a gap in her veils.
"Way-walker, you must hurry!" she entreated. "Why do you not go?" He could hear himself begging in the back of his own skull, begging him to come.
"I cannot come," he said to them both, even as the door shuddered under a massive blow. "I am shackled still."
"I am shackled still," Christian murmured dreamily. He was vaguely aware of light and commotion around him, but it did not trouble him. "I am shackled still; I cannot come."
"I can't do anything to stop this!" Lilly was screaming. "If he can't get through to this side, then he's going to be dragged back to the other."
"Samir!" Emmerich shouted. "Keep them off of him if you can!"
"Do you think me blind?" Samir shouted back. "I'm doing my damnedest here!"
"Oh my God, what is it?" Sebastian sobbed. Christian flinched, hearing the distress in his voice. There was the sound of a muffled struggle, and then no more. Christian fought to regain control.
"I can't hold on, I can't come further, I'm shackled, I'm lost DON'T LET ME GO!" he screamed, trying to hold on, to drag himself up into the world of light.
The second blow knocked the door free of its hinges. The child screamed again. Armor-clad, the Blood King stormed into the room, flanked by his hellish bodyguard. The Queen spun around, throwing out a protective arm in front of Christian. Whimpering, the child stared at him from over her shoulder.
"You scheming whore," the King grated. "You thought you could keep a wizard for a pet? Or was it to overthrow me, undermine my rule? He killed my Huntsman, is that why you so eagerly risked your own child? To try to weaken my reign?"
"I am not the one who maimed our son," she said dangerously. "What did you think the boy could tell you, that it was worth blinding him?"
"I'll blind you both if need be!" he roared, swinging a gauntled fist into the wall. "Have you poisoned the wizard against me? I will break him to my will!" Christian noticed that for all the King's rage, he dared not touch either the Queen or him, weakened as he was. There was a brush of panic from the other side of himself, and searing pain as he attempted to drag them back together. He held his shackled wrists up to the child.
"Mama," the boy whispered, tightening his arms around her neck. The Queen tensed, then spun around, and in one smooth motion unlocked the shackles. The rush of power unwinding within him nearly knocked him senseless. He swayed dangerously, catching himself with his hands. So much power, he couldn't manage it all in this state! The Queen stood up, turning to face her husband, child pressed against her skirts. The King's bodyguards began to move toward her.
"Fly now," came that haunting voice, echoing unnaturally in the confines of the room. "Way-Walker, you are unbound. Return to whence you came."
The pain was unbearable. His body burned in agony, but he was free. Why couldn't he move? He tried dragging himself upward again. He held on with a death-grip, but something was stopping him.
"Clear you mind," Kongming said, calm, unflappable. "There's naught here to cause you to worry. Drift like a leaf on the stream."
Drift, yes. That was what he was forgetting. Christian took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He started to be pulled upward.
"Good," Kongming said, still calm. "Draw it to you, like when you draw magefire. Let it flow."
Of course, how silly to forget that. Christian let the universe flow past him, carry him along, let him sink into an eddy of energy, push him gently against himself, into himself. It was such a delicious pain, agonizing as soul seared to soul to mind to body. A howl built up, and he let it loose, rather than fight against it. The mere act of screaming felt wonderful. It let some of that pain free.
"Well done," Kongming's voice was still so calm. How could he stay so calm even when everyone was shouting in panic? Why was everyone shouting in panic? Still calm, still letting all the universe drift past him, Christian opened his eyes. Pain blazed through his leg, not the pain of healing or unfettered magic, but something else. Something had grabbed him, and was threatening to drag him back. All of him.
An unholy cacophony filled the room as an immense blood-colored claw grasped Christian's leg, dragging him toward the crack between worlds. Lilly stood firm, flames licking her skin as she chanted in eldritch tongues. Kongming had dropped to one knee, still whispering encouragement to Christian. Samir had stepped in front of Emmerich protectively, snapping in the corrupt tongue of the djinn, blue eyes blazing in the uneven light. Christian tried to lash out at the claw, but lethargy had sunken into every fiber of his being.
"He can't fight back!" Sean shouted at Sebastian. "For the love of all that you hold dear, help him!" Sebastian sat frozen against the wall, eyes wide with terror. "Damn you, he'll be lost to you forever if you don't help him!" If he could hear Sean, he made no sign, but tears rolled down his cheeks.
Not now, Christian whispered to himself. Not now like this.
A defiant scream pierced through the conflicting sounds and chants. Christian turned his head and laughed feebly. Rei, dear Rei, was leaping from the doorway that he had battered open. He landed full on Christian, and began pummeling the clawed hand that was dragging them both through the opening. Sean called to him and tossed Rei a twisted blade. Shouting in a jumbled mixture of Japanese and English, Rei hacked at the claw, even as he wrested Christian's leg free. The claw drew back, and for one awful moment Rei teetered between worlds. Even as he started to topple forward, still holding the dagger embedded in the monstrous claw, Sean dashed forward and knocked into Rei, sending them both tumbling into the far wall. Lilly stopped her chanting and dropped to her knees, even as the tear between worlds collapsed inward, then shut.
"Is it over?" Christian asked the floor. He was slightly offended when the floor didn't answer such an innocuous inquiry.
"It is." Samir knelt by Christian on the burnt and splintered floor. "You did well, even at the end."
"I don't think I can walk." Christian's hand twitched weakly. "Or really move much at all."
"If you can sleep, you should do that," Samir told him as he lifted him up from the floor. "We can take care of the clean-up." Christian didn't even have time to agree before sleep took him.
He dreamt of candy-colored horses.
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