Witch and Wizard_ The Fire - James Patterson [62]
Byron coughs, hands on his knees. “Of course I know where we’re going,” he says indignantly. “There’s a portal I know of, a top secret, intensely complicated gateway that few of the most elite N.O.P.E. members even know about. It leads to the darkest, most terrifying part of the Shadowland.” Byron looks at me gravely.
Sure, going to the Shadowland always involves a certain amount of risk and trepidation, but the guy can be so dramatic.
“And your intel says that’s where Whit’s hanging out?”
“Well, the information is less specific than we’d hope for” (Byron code for No, I’m taking a wild guess here and hope I’m right ) “but there’s evidence to suggest that Whit is highly sought after by the dead, and one can assume that he would be drawn to the more remote areas in his quest to locate your parents,” he reports.
“Headed for the worst place at the worst possible time? Yeah, that sounds like my brother.” I try to smile, but Byron’s probably right, actually. A tightness closes around my heart. Please let Whit be okay.
Byron sighs. “And we’re on a deadline. The report said, ‘The end is near,’ whatever that means, so we need to find Whit as soon as possible.”
I nod. The end has felt near for a very long time.
“And, Wist? There’s another thing I suspect you’re not going to be rather ecstatic about.”
Another thing? As in, worse than “the end is near”? I cock an eyebrow, and Byron hesitates.
“What? Just say it.”
“The portal is not exactly easy to get through — because it’s underwater.”
Underwater. My hands start to sweat and my throat goes dry remembering the claustrophobic nightmare of being flushed through the sewer (in fish form) not so very long ago. Great — I’m sure this will be a thrill a minute.
“If I can handle The One, I think I can manage a little aqua,” I say mildly, but I feel a chill at his words. “The sun’s starting to come up. Can we just get going already?”
We run for a few more blocks through the rubble of the streets, the cement buildings towering around us like vultures closing in. Byron signals left, and when we turn, a river is just up ahead of us, bisecting the City of Progress.
Dawn breaks over the water as we approach, and the pink glow makes our ravaged capital look almost beautiful. If I didn’t expect to be shot at any second, if I were a normal girl in normal circumstances, I’d sit right down on this curb and watch as the sun edged up over the horizon.
“The portal.” Byron nods at the river, snapping me back to reality. I am not a normal girl, after all. Not anymore.
I want to immediately take off toward the portal and find my brother, but something makes me hesitate — something more than just paranoia about the water. There’s an uncomfortable eeriness that I can’t pinpoint. There are no people out anymore, and the bean-picker children have disappeared completely. No birds, no wind, and the river is barely stirring. The air is still.
Too still.
“B., does something feel … off … to you?”
He eyes the clouds looming above us, unmoving, jaundiced yellow and pregnant with threat. “Uh, yeah. You could say that.”
A strong wind is already picking back up, and the sky is going dark in a hurry. Byron grabs my hand and we dash forward toward the portal, but the once calm streets turn swiftly into a nightmare of flying debris, and the river’s waves become crashing, deadly rapids. It’s like a hurricane spinning into a tornado.
Amid the chaos, waves of soldiers start to pour in from the side streets with the wind at their backs. I freeze. It’s not possible: Pearce, racing at the helm, his strong jaw set with determination, his fair, wavy hair trailing behind him in the violent wind.
And — worse — The One by his side, his face wild with power, lust, and … something else. Fury.
How have they healed so quickly? I left them both weak and wounded, but now Pearce and The One take command of the swirling skies, a mega-power looms large above