Take Back Worlds (Diamond Universe: Sierra Walker #3)

Chapter 11

I n retrospect, we all should have expected this.

We undid Bright Earth’s scheme, and by making angelic presence detectable, we ensured they could never do it again. By gathering it all in one place, we thought we would keep the angels from being able to just take portions of what they’d gathered while they still could, because taking the whole of the power would literally destroy their realm.

But of course, even faced with that, they’d never just let go . Of course they wouldn’t choose self-preservation over accepting that anyone else has value.

I stare at Nariel, who looks as battered and singed as I feel. “How much time before Bright Earth destabilizes?” I ask hoarsely.

“Days,” he says grimly. “A week at most, if we’re lucky.”

I laugh hollowly.

We won’t be lucky.

We have days before the angels do what they’d threatened Nariel with before:

Detonating all of that magic like a bomb in Dark Earth.

“It isn’t enough to just stop them,” I say numbly through my flayed lips. “We have to defeat them.”

“You’re out of your mind,” Evram snaps furiously, also looking worse for wear as he stalks over, mage robes billowing behind him. “Congratulations, Sierra. We did it your way, and now we will all pay the price.”

Predictably, the other grand magi have all dialed in remotely, because heaven forbid they actually have skin in the game.

Except for the lady grand magus who came to get in Evram’s way, and how I resent that that was necessary.

She follows him, snapping, “Imagine if our skills could have been pitted against the angels attacking us rather than each other.”

“And if you’d let me divide the power, the angels wouldn’t have taken it all,” Evram snarls. “We could have stolen some of it back—“

“Stolen it back? It’s ours ,“ she snarls.

Teams of battle mages are all around us, quietly listening.

And I walk up, every step agony, and take Evram’s face in my bloody hands.

“I know you wanted to go back to how things were,” I say. “I did, too. Evram.” His jaw clenches at my use of his name. “But that isn’t possible, and you know it. All Bright Earth will accept is your oppression. So if you want to survive—“

“We will do what we’ve always done,” Evram grates out.

”—our only option is to defeat them, together.”

Evram takes my hands in his own, clenching his fists around my bloody skin.

I grit my teeth and don’t flinch.

I have rarely seen Evram look this serious.

“I know I trained you to win fights, Sierra, against difficult odds,” my former mentor says. “But this isn’t difficult. This is impossible. You can’t win this. You say you want magic? This is what it means to lead. You have to know when to compromise.”

I hold his gaze and say softly, firmly: “No.”

Evram throws my hands down. “This isn’t about you anymore, Sierra. Bright Earth can destroy entire worlds . You no longer get a say—“

I tried, I really did.

“Oh, I definitely get a say,” I tell him.

“Look at you,” Evram sneers. “You get a little power, and you think you can have whatever you want—“

“I think when the problem at hand requires fighting angels, you should want to work with the people who have demonstrated they can actually do that, yes.”

“The problem we can actually solve does not involve fighting angels at all,” Evram snaps.

From behind Evram, Destien says casually, “It does if you mean to have anything to rule.”

The grand magus makes a sound of disgust. “Not you, too. Idealism doesn’t become you, Destien.”

“Is that what you think? Grand Magus Anjari, in your professional opinion, do the grand magi have enough angelic artifacts stashed to make a meaningful contribution to efforts to fight angels?”

“Of course we do,” she says. “Over the years many other powerful families and governments have amassed them as well. The magic stored in those artifacts can be repurposed, as Grand Magus Evram has done with his efforts with the plague. And the weapons can be used to arm our people.”

Oh, I like her. Who knew there was a grand magus like this?

“Anjari,” Evram growls.

“Show of hands,” Destien continues. “If the grand magi don’t approve that High Earth contributes to the cause of stopping the angels, who here will be making sure that contribution happens regardless.”

Oh my god.

That... that wasn’t a question.

Wide-eyed, I stare around as the vast majority of the most advanced battle mages on the planet, the equivalent of Lances from around the world and the specific ones who’ve fought and trained me too, raise their hands.

Past them, in the stands, mages all around us, filling the arena, follow.

Destien has been playing a very, very long game.

The arena is eerily silent as the threat of coups around the world suddenly feels very, very real.

I could not have imagined this when I lived in High Earth. But the angels have created a flashpoint causing centuries of resentment to boil over and radicalize even those who were comfortable, because the plague spared no one, no matter their power or favor.

No one but the grand magi.

“I think you will find, Grand Magi,” Destien says, addressing the images in the sky, “that I am not out-of-touch at all. High Earth does not have magic to spare fighting its own people.”

He lets that hang in the air for a moment.

One of the grand magi finally snarls, “You are a traitor to us all, and your status as representative is revoked—“

Grand Magus Anjari says mildly, “Not without a unanimous vote it isn’t.”

“You can’t be serious,” he snaps.

“These are your terms, then?” Destien asks me, ignoring the grand magi, and it takes me a second to realize what he’s talking about.

The terms Low Earth and Dark Earth need to settle with High Earth.

You know, the pretext for our presence here.

“High Earth’s help resolving this crisis will resolve the matter between us,” Destien clarifies.

I stare at him.

Okay, yes, that is what I came for.

But—

It’s not enough.

I look at Nariel. We should have talked about this. I should have gotten his advice.

But instead what I have is feeling small. Like I’ve had to nearly kill myself to get scraps and am expected to be grateful for them.

And as I hold his gaze, I have the feeling of Nariel’s shadows like hands underneath my side of the bond, protecting it and lifting it up.

Lifting up.

Baseline zero isn’t good enough.

“Sierra,” Destien prompts slowly, and abruptly that softness inside me hardens into anger. Into resolve .

The grand magi’s shortsightedness I expected at this point. It’s infuriating, but not surprising. Anjari, who I think has seen the writing on the wall and knows that people will remember how they protected each other when the other grand magi wouldn’t or couldn’t, seems to be the exception. There’s no putting the genie back in the bottle; coups are going to happen, and she’s positioning herself to still hold political power on the other side.

But Destien. Destien, who has been playing his long game, for him to think I would, or should , settle for basic self-defense?

And if he’s testing me again to see what he can get away with, so help me when this is all over I am going to punch him in the face so hard .

“Oh, no,” I say. “The terms are what comes after we survive. Fighting the angels with their own blood money is something you will do out of your own self-interest. I have no need to bargain for that or steal it or whatever else people thought I was here to do, because you will donate it freely. Along with that goddamn apology for accusing me of being responsible for the plague and attempting to kill me. We’ll start with that before we even begin to talk about terms.”

You could hear a pin drop.

I can’t read Destien’s expression, or Grand Magus Anjari’s, which is telling enough on its own.

“You think,” Evram says, “High Earth, which has experienced unaccountable loss as a result of your actions—“

“Did you forget I fixed your first plague?”

“Which would never have happened if your demon —“

“Hadn’t wanted people not to starve. No one caused the plague but the angels, Grand Magus, and I will not accept blame for this.”

“Your acceptance of reality does not change it,” Evram says, and gestures at the barren earth beneath us where the tournament floor once was. “But look around. Do you see anything here that High Earth lost as a direct result of your actions?”

“ Koshiel stole your magic. Just because I’m here and you think you can actually hurt me doesn’t mean that I will let you place the blame for this on me.”

“Who we blame,” Evram says coldly, “is not under your control.”

I look around at all the High Earth faces here. Evram and Destien, the Lances and Grand Magus Anjari, all the other mages I have fought and bled beside today and in years past.

And Nariel, always.

With me, but staying quiet—not because he won’t help me, but because he thinks I don’t need it.

Because Evram is trying to make it about me again.

He’s making it about me again.

But you know what?

It is about me.

I am exactly the right person for this job for one reason.

I take a breath, and instead of addressing him, I turn around. “Before anything else, I am what High Earth and the grand magus trained me to be.”

I meet the gaze of Sarenac City’s head Lance.

“And that’s a hammer.”

For the first time I can remember, she smiles.

“A hammer is exactly what this problem demands.” I hold up my bloody arm and manifest my hammer into it as I turn around. “People who oppress others only stop when made to. You have knelt to Bright Earth for generations, and through no fault of your own they killed your loved ones anyway, indiscriminately. The status quo is irreparably broken, and we have a chance now to put in place a new one that serves us —yes, Grand Magus, us, High Earth and Low Earth and Dark Earth, together—instead of them .

“So this is what I promise you, not as Wizard Master of Low Earth, but as myself, Sierra Walker. Before we talk terms.”

I look eyes with Destien.

“I will not kneel before the angels.

“I will not bow, not to them or a grand magus or a demon king. Not literally, and not metaphorically. Low Earth has been punished for generations for no reason but greed, and that ends now and forever more. I yield to no one.”

“Not even to your demon prince?” Evram asks scathingly.

I turn to him and hold his gaze as I say, “I will say it once more for you: I yield to no one . I have proven that, over, and over, and that is why, more than the fact that it is right, and more than the fact that it is in your own self-interest, High Earth will contribute to the cause of removing the chokehold Bright Earth has held over all of us for centuries.

“Because I promise that I will fight them until I bleed, until they try to run from me , because the one thing they cannot do is break me.”

Evram nearly broke me once.

Never again.

I have lost a lot of blood, and this would be a terrible time to pass out, so I reach for the bond between me and Nariel.

And it’s there, a pulse of darkness deep within me that calms and cools me from the inside out.

Another breath.

“I am a hammer,” I say to Evram, to the grand magi, and most importantly to every person here who has fought and bled. “And in this I will be High Earth’s instrument, and Low Earth’s, and Dark Earth’s, to deal a humiliating blow to the angels who think we should all bow to them, using their own magic that you’ve strategically extracted from them over the years. I promise you that Low Earth will not keep any angelic artifact donated to this cause. This power will all be used for the sole purpose of saving all of our worlds. Now. How does that sound?”

Around us, mages roar their approval.

Tears prick my eyes, and I turn, meeting Nariel’s fierce gaze.

Maybe it’s not so impossible for me to have a place with these people after all.

Then again, it is going to require me to commit some heroics—

Destien crosses to me and clasps my arm. I clench my teeth and grasp his in return, because I know this is a play to the audience, but—

The roar this time is even more deafening.

Destien reaches into his robe and shoves a bottle at me. “I can’t believe you. Drink this already.”

Oh thank gods.

My hands are too slippery to open it. After a second I blow the top off so I can chug it while Destien murmurs in my ear, “Who knew you were that good with words?”

My vision is still white with pain from the potion as I say, “Did you know most of my income comes from writing?” When I manage to blink my eyes open, it looks like Destien can’t decide whether I’m fucking with him or not. I grin. “And ads. Someday we should talk about how to market High Earth products in other realms.”

Destien snorts. “Getting ahead of yourself, don’t you think?”

“This from you? I’m beginning to have some idea of exactly how far in the future you plan.”

I thought that would make him laugh, but instead he eyes me speculatively.

Ah. I’ve perceived him, and he’s not sure he likes it.

“So what were you thinking for terms?” he asks casually.

“I’m thinking that I should not agree to anything without discussing with Nariel first, so thanks for putting me on the spot there.”

“You’re welcome. I know how you like performance pressure.”

”I will punch you. Don’t think I won’t.”

Nariel joins us, cloaking us in shadow magic for a moment as he cleans the blood off my body.

“Useful guy you found,” Destien says.

I sigh. “You have no idea.”

Both of them pause and look at me.

“I meant that I often end up covered in blood!” I protest, feeling my face heat. “That is your brains that made it weird!”

Destien snorts but Nariel says, “I think Dark Earth should discuss our terms with you at a later time.”

I frown at him. “What?”

Destien’s eyes narrow. “At a later time—“

“Circumstances of the negotiation may have changed,” Nariel says. “But today I can represent that Dark Earth witnesses this agreement between Low Earth and High Earth. I do not currently speak for all of Dark Earth in any other capacity, and at this particular time especially, as a person who was once an angel, it would be a mistake for me to assume that role on my own.”

Well, shit.

“We need to get back out there,” Destien says. “The grand magi will turn the tide of public opinion if we delay. Are you certain?”

“Are you asking me or Nariel?”

“Both.”

“Yes,” Nariel says.

“No,” I say.

We look at each other.

“You haven’t already decided?” Destien asks incredulously, anger seeping into his tone. “Are you serious?”

“We’ve been a little busy not dying,” I snap.

“You had hours alone in the guest suite—oh for gods’ sakes.”

Okay this time his brain is correct, but I glare at him anyway.

He glares right back. “Think fast,” he says flatly. “The grand magi will be undermining me at every turn from now on. It’s now or never.”

I’m about to ask him what he thinks, but then I remember what he thought is what I told everyone they should give me for free, and I meant it. So this isn’t going to be about what he wants.

Nariel dissipates the shadows around us so Destien can stride confidently back into the fray.

I stare at him wide-eyed.

I do thrive under pressure, but in battle situations , a thing I have experience with, not deciding the fates of worlds.

“Help,” I whisper.

Nariel smiles at me and shakes his head. “I’m sorry, I thought you already realized.”

“Please just tell me the thing I’m supposed to have realized.”

“That’s not how this works.”

“Nariel—“

“No, Sierra. Someday you will want this to have come from you. But you don’t need me to tell you, truly.

“You said it yourself: You’re a hammer. Remember what else a hammer is.”

What—right, what I made of under the mountain in Dark Earth.

“Not just smashing, also building.” I nod. “Building what , though?”

“The kind of life you’ve always wanted for wizards of Low Earth,” Nariel says softly.

I have that though, don’t I? I brought magic back, I stopped High Earth from attacking us—

But that isn’t enough , is it?

That’s just baseline zero again.

Like a guy who thinks he should get brownie points for being nice. No, motherfucker, not being an asshole just keeps you from starting in the negative.

Baseline zero is what I already have.

I want better.

I want more than that.

I want magic, yes. But what would magic be to me if I hadn’t had—if I hadn’t desperately done everything I could to have—the opportunities I had in High Earth? What was it to the other wizards of Low Earth before I found a way to bring the magic of it to them?

Nariel’s right. I do know the answer after all.

I walk right up to Destien where he’s crowded in a discussion with the grand magi and the Lances and tell him, “Hi, I have terms.”

“Do tell,” Destien says tartly.

“After we’ve dealt with the problem Bright Earth presents,” I say, “Low Earth will continue supporting High Earth with a portion of our magic to help you rebuild in the wake of the angelic plague. We will establish a plan so that will decrease over time, with a firm end date.”

Destien’s eyebrows lift. “And in return?”

I swallow; breathe. “And in return, High Earth will continue to provide magical education for all Low Earth wizards who seek advancement at any level. We will have access not just to your books, but to your centuries of experience working magic, and teaching the working of magic, for as long as we require it.”

So anyone from Low Earth can have what I had.

What I wanted more of.

Maybe someday, there will be a Low Earther I can work magic with like I did with Evram. So that he is not what feels like home.

And speaking of Evram, he looks thoughtful and I’m not sure if that’s at my expense, so I add, “And once Destien is no longer the representative of High Earth in this matter, I will still be Wizard Master of Low Earth. And Low Earth will withdraw its magical support of High Earth.”

Grand Magus Anjari asks, “And after your timeline has run out, and High Earth is not reliant on your magic anymore?”

I roll my eyes. “Then you’ll be in violation of the agreement, and I’ll decide then how to handle it then, but I’m not going to go into this assuming bad faith from you. Should I?”

By then High Earth will be a lot stronger and not in need of me.

But by then Low Earth will be a lot stronger and maybe not in need of me, either.

Her look plainly says that I should even if she won’t say it aloud, which is fair and honestly I don’t, but I’m also not going to warn them about what I’ll do so they can prepare, right? That’s bad battle tactics, and those I do know.

Destien coughs. “I find those terms acceptable.”

A grand magus snarls, “ Negotiate , damn it!”

I want to scream. We do not have time for this, and also I’m not going to accept anything else anyway.

I take a breath. That’s what I’m here.

To be the one person who will not budge.

And willing to make it everyone else’s problem.

So I bare my teeth at him and say, “No. These are my terms. Destien is sensible enough to know we have other things to do and to not waste any more time.”

“And in my capacity as representative of High Earth in regards to the Sierra Walker Problem, we have an agreement,” Destien says. “With this may our two worlds embark on a new alliance toward the betterment of us all. Grand magi.” He bows smartly. “My task is complete.”

The grand magus swears at him, and the insubstantial images in the sky immediately start arguing.

Grand Magus Anjari rolls her eyes and vanishes. Even Evram looks fed up with everything about this and starts taking command of the bloody field around us.

Destien turns his back on it all and says, “Now then. Sierra, if you would walk with me?”

I blink. “That’s really it? You’re not going to like. Make a proclamation of it or anything?”

“Of course I will,” he says, striding away and leaving me to catch up, which I do with a grumble while Nariel joins us seamlessly. “Just not now, when we’ve already reached a high note. That will be for celebration after the battle to come.”

“Speaking of battles,” Nariel remarks, “I hope you’re ready for the sea change that will come with this.”

So he thinks there will still be coups, too.

Destien says quietly, “I’ve been preparing for years.” He looks at me seriously. “Thank you for allowing me to wield your hammer toward improving things for all of us.”

“I wield myself now,” I tell him.

He smiles. “So you do.”

Warmth spreads through me, but this is fucking Destien and I should not care what he thinks of me so I quickly mutter, “And this isn’t over yet.”

He nods. “Yes. Let’s get to Dark Earth. What’s the best way—“

“You’re coming?”

My voice comes out maybe a little more hopeful than I meant it to.

“And miss the reputation I’ll get for commanding mages in the final battle, since they won’t follow anyone else? Not a chance.”

“That only helps you if you don’t die,” I remind him.

“I’m counting on you,” he says serenely. “Please do your best.”

I pause. “Goddammit. You knew I would bowl them all over, didn’t you? That’s what you really wanted me here for, to be myself in the sense of just breaking shit everywhere.”

Including, apparently, the whole world order.

Destien’s grin is a little wicked now. “Yep.”

I punch him, but given that provocation he obviously knew it was coming and dodges.

Meanwhile I freeze with my hand still hanging in the air and turn wide-eyed to Nariel.

His eyebrows lift, and he waits for me.

To come fully back to myself, always.

“I have an idea,” I breathe.