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

Chapter 14

T he thing about dust, as anyone who has tried to keep a space clean can tell you, is that it’s pretty much the one thing in the universe you can count on never dying.

You can chase it off, fight it down. But it always comes back.

So do we.

And we’re not going anywhere.

D imly, I’m aware of our forces below fleeing the force above us, and that’s okay.

It’s my resolve that can’t waver.

It’s my job to be the person that is worth their faith, and to prove it beyond a shadow of a doubt.

Nariel flies in front of me, above me.

Or, in reality: it’s ours.

Nariel holds his hands out in front of him.

Koshiel’s eyes widen in surprise. That anyone would dare to try this, and think it might matter.

Because in the next instant, the whole dense mass of energy crashes into Nariel.

And he catches the bomb.

Absorbing as much energy as he can.

Nariel takes the flood of energy that could destabilize a whole world, and he holds it .

Not for long.

Just long enough for me to act.

I activate the spell.

It takes only seconds for Nariel to take the hit from the bomb, for me to activate the spell, and already he is screaming, shadows writhing under his skin as he screams with the force of not simply being obliterated.

Then I scream with him as he feeds all that raw power into our bond. Into me .

Not at the same rate. I’m not an angel; even with our bond, I simply can’t hold as much magic as he can.

So he holds the bulk of it, holding it at bay, so I can channel it into the spell.

A spell that was designed to steal magic from Dark Earth and pour it into Bright Earth.

With the magic that can break that already glutted world.

Nariel gropes for my hand. His is burning.

I take it anyway, and cling to it.

He holds one hand out toward the bomb, while I hold one hand out toward the spell, and together we are a funnel that is sending that bomb Koshiel tried to drop on us straight back to Bright Earth.

The power stolen from High Earth, weaponized by Bright Earth, deployed against Dark Earth, channeled by Low Earth.

We’re all connected.

The world around me is glowing white, but I see the moment Koshiel realizes what we’re doing and screams, “ Kill them! ”

I can’t scream harder than I’m already screaming.

My skin is cracking with lines of power. Explosion by magic—the whole reason I was ever brought to High Earth to learn to prevent, the very first thing that a mage has to know, and I’m dying of it anyway. I can send it out of me as fast as I receive it, but it’s still passing through me in a constant rush. Nariel can’t ebb the flow more than he is without dying himself, and then I would immediately die too. The only way this works is with both of us.

We aren’t in any shape to fight off an attack right now, but angels form around us nevertheless. They seem hesitant to get too close to the bomb, too, and that’s just long enough for the demon princes to form a barrier between them and us.

Like the angels formed a wall to prevent us from reaching Koshiel, back in High Earth, and I know Destien’s hand when I see it.

Our people are still here after all.

Finally, finally, we are all fighting as one.

And that means we still have a chance.

The angels attack, and the demons fight back, and I’m practically made of magic. I’m not just cracked with magic anymore, my whole body is glowing with it, like I’m bleeding and secreting magic out of my skin, and I know it’s frying me from the inside out.

I can’t actually feel Nariel’s hand anymore.

But I see when the sky above us opens, like a tear in the universe. A crack into another world.

And that world is falling apart.

I see beautiful, architecturally impossible, pure white palaces lash with the force of the earthquakes shaking the world. Gardens erupt like magma has spurted beneath them. The sea looks broken, like someone has picked it up and tipped it, and the biggest wave I’ve ever seen is poised to flood everything below it as angels attempt to flee into the sky, where the winds are too strong for them to fight and they’re tossed back, unable to escape.

I manage to find Koshiel still in the sky, staring at her collapsing world in horror, as she turns to us.

I grin.

“You have to stop!” she screams at me.

I open my mouth, attempt to form words.

Finally croak, “Remove your spell.”

Somehow, she hears me, but in her desperation, she doesn’t understand. “ What? ”

Nariel says it again this time. “Remove the spell. Give up draining Dark Earth forever, and this stops.”

Koshiel gapes.

A demon prince yells, “Like hell! We are killing every last angel, once and for all.”

An echo of agreement—from the other demon princes, and from the roar that follows, I think the spirits as well—deafening.

Maybe my eardrums are bleeding.

Finally, I manage to raise my voice, and lock eyes with Koshiel.

“Destroy your spell and leave, or I’ll destroy your world. Choose wisely, angel.”

Koshiel stares at me like she’s never seen me before.

And in fact, I don’t think she ever has.

But I’m visible now.

I know my place.

It’s right here, on top.

“How can I trust you?” she whispers, fear naked in her voice.

My gaze is clear.

“I’m not like you,” I say. “I’m better. And I’m going to prove it.”

She stares at me.

Probably only seconds pass, but it feels like a lifetime.

But then I hear what sounds like a volcano exploding, and all at once I see Koshiel break. I see it in her face, an instant before she disappears.

And what would have cost thousands of spirit lives to undo, given how starved Dark Earth has been for centuries, is the work of minutes for a group of angels to unwork, and vanish back into Bright Earth.

I know this, not because I can see it, but because the spell I’ve been channeling through is suddenly no longer there.

My screams redouble.

“Destroy them all!” a demon prince yells, and I get it, I do, and frankly the easiest thing for me to do would be to just channel all that magic straight back into the crack in the sky.

The angels must know it, too, because I feel magic start to gather there, a wall to protect them, or maybe to force the excess magic out of their world.

Nariel’s body shudders, but he still holds above me. As if he’ll shield me from that, too.

But I’m not going to do what everyone else tells me I should or expects from me.

I do know what to do with excess magic, actually.

It is, after all, the first thing we learn.

And the first thing the spirits did, before we were ready with anything else, was place nodes around Dark Earth.

So now, it’s the most natural thing in the world to send all the magic into Dark Earth.

A world not teeming with magic, but starved for it.

Like I’ve woken a dragon, it feels like the world actually begins to pull the magic from me. It leaves me even faster, and Nariel pours it into me even faster, and faster, and faster, and I can’t even scream anymore because all I am is magic.

The white light finally fades, and I hang in the silence in the sky, still, spent.

Then a cloud appears directly beneath me—spirit magic—catching me right before I begin to fall.

Then there’s fearless Ayaka, pouring a High Earth healing potion down my throat before I can process what just happened.

Her fierce face over me is the last thing I see before I pass out.

“ S ierra, get up. Time to rest once you’ve finished neutralizing your enemies, but not before.”

The habits of childhood have me blinking immediately awake to Destien’s drawling voice.

“Now that I have your attention,” he says acidly, “ what is your sister doing here?”

I don’t understand the question, because I don’t immediately know where I am. I sit up and get so dizzy I lie right back down.

“No time for that,” Destien grunts, sliding an arm under me to haul me up. I hiss with the pain of—

Oh gods, everywhere. Absolutely everywhere hurts, and now I’m aware of it.

I let out a choked sob, only holding it back because that hurts, too.

Destien swears. “I’m casting a spell to numb the pain, but absolutely don’t get into any fights with this on. I can’t believe you’re not dead yet, but I promise you, you will absolutely die if you take a magical hit in your condition. Even a weak one.”

I believe him. I can’t even breathe without pain, can’t move—

Numbness settles over me like a blanket.

I stare at him.

He says gruffly, “I learned more than I ever wanted to know about easing pain during the plague. Can you walk now?”

The answer seems to be yes, though I’m watching my feet to make sure and this is when I realize I’m on a cloud.

Still on a cloud.

I look up again, and discover the cloud’s size has increased.

To account for all the people on it.

Demon princes, grand magi. Ayaka, Letty, Seamus, Gaspar, Amir. Brook .

They made it. Every one of them made it.

The relief that slams into me takes my breath away.

“Well, you tried locking her up, and it didn’t take,” I finally manage to mutter, trying to take everything in. Trying to find the one missing person I desperately need. “Nothing’s going to keep her down.”

“ I very much did not lock her up, and would never,“ Destien says. I can’t quite read his tone.

“No, you brought her a stick she whacked angels out of the sky with. Keeping her out of our business has well and truly sailed.” I frown. “I’m gonna need to cast some extra spells on that staff.”

Destien snorts. “Of course you are.” This time I’m pretty sure that’s a combination of resignation and amusement.

But the one person I don’t see—

Materializes in front of us.

“Nariel,” I breathe, choke, cry.

And then I lurch away from Destien, tripping over my feet to reach him.

Nariel catches me, holds me, cries with me.

I can’t even say anything—what is there to say?

Then I find it as I realize belatedly I am saying, “You’re alive, you’re alive, you’re alive,” over and over, and so is he, to me.

“Cloying as this is,” Casimir drawls, “this is a council of war . If you two think you can manage to focus on the rare opportunity we have for a moment, here?”

Slowly, his words penetrate, but I still feel like I’m hearing them through a fog. Maybe that’s the numbness? Or the other numbness.

My eyes are all for Nariel, and it’s him I look at as I whisper, “That we made.”

Nariel’s beautiful smile blooms. “Yes,” he agrees softly. “We did.”

A demon prince I don’t know, but the same voice as the one who urged me to destroy Bright Earth earlier says, “And after all that, you still fucked it up.”

Ayaka says smoothly, “Please reconsider your speech.”

“Not what you said,” Brook clarifies, “but speaking at all.”

“Sierra,” Destien says to me in a low voice.

I close my eyes; breathe. “If an entire world could be destroyed without dire consequences, I assume Bright Earth would have already done so.”

I also have no idea how the social structure of Bright Earth works, other than badly, but it seems likely not all angels are equally to blame for what’s been perpetrated against the rest of us, even if they failed to stop it, and shouldn’t just be destroyed out of hand.

I suspect that won’t be a popular view in this crowd, though.

“Yes, Dagron, consider using a touch more of your brain while you’re in our presence,” Casimir drawls.

“You—“

They start squabbling, and I stare at Nariel in something like disbelief.

We’re alive. We’re alive , we fucking did it, and yet—

“I’m done, I think,” I tell him. His mouth turns up in a smile, and he nods.

This, of all things, makes everyone start paying attention to us again.

“Done?” Casimir queries.

Nariel says, “We will be taking our leave. All that’s required now is our mutual agreement that should Bright Earth work against any of our worlds in the future, we will all contribute equally to stop them.” He looks at Destien. “Will High Earth accept me as representative for Dark Earth in this?”

Casimir spits, “ Dark Earth does not accept.”

I snap, “As soon as a majority of the twelve other demon princes of Dark Earth can agree on another candidate, Nariel will step aside once informed. Agreed, Nariel?”

His eyebrows lift, but he says, “I do so swear on my life.”

Wow, okay, jeez.

“Awesome.” I turn back to the demon princes. “Can you agree on one now?”

Casimir’s visage darkens, and the other demons aren’t happy either, because they know perfectly well that’s not happening any time soon.

“And how will you enforce this, precisely?” another demon prince purrs, stepping forward. “Who are you to make demands of us? Any one of us could kill you right now in your current state. Your wizards are no match for us, and together we have more spirits than Nariel. How could you stop us?” He smiles. “We can end this now.”

I tense. He’s right. Destien’s words echo in my mind: If I get into another fight, if I even let him hit me right now, I die.

What a fucking joke, that after what we just accomplished, this is where I end—

And then of all people, it’s Evram who says, in a voice full of authority, “No, you won’t.”

His wand points at the demon.

After a moment, every other grand magus follows suit, aiming at the same demon who threatened us.

And no other princes offer to come to his aid.

Nariel murmurs, “You really should have waited until after Sierra made you immune to summoning to threaten her, Euron.”

Euron sneers.

I look at Evram, and he meets my gaze, and nods once, shortly.

I clamp my jaw shut as my eyes fill with tears. This is not the time or place, but—

This moment, I think, is the closest I will ever get to the acknowledgement I once wanted from him, the kind of grand magus I’d thought he was. That he sees me, and will have the back of the girl he trained.

I’m not unaware of his self-interest here. It doesn’t undo anything, or promise anything going forward. But for this one moment, he’s used his power and stood up for me, and it’s enough.

Dagron grumbles, “But why should an angel —“

“Because he just risked the most of any of you,” Grand Magus Anjari interrupts impatiently, but then says, “ Destien , however, does not speak for the grand magi today.”

“Indeed I don’t,” Destien says, “but I speak for just about everyone else in High Earth. High Earth agrees.”

Anjari’s gaze snaps to him.

Oooh, so they’re not just perfect allies then.

Wow is that not a today problem.

“And as Wizard Master of Low Earth, I obviously agree with my own proposal,” I say. “Great, thanks everyone. We can figure out how to shove reparations down Bright Earth’s throat later. As soon as I’m recovered, I’ll visit each demon prince to repay my end of our bargain for your assistance today. High Earth, you know my terms, and since Low Earth is already siphoning some magic to you the details on that will wait a few days as well. Anything else urgent here?”

Anjari looks at me. “This is a rare opportunity, Sierra,“ she says. “All of us—“

“Grand Magus, with all due respect, I am covered with liquid silver that I believe is my blood. I literally just saved all the worlds today. What can’t wait?”

“We all saved the worlds,” she says.

That’s true.

But I just look at her and say nothing.

After a long moment, she looks away.

Yeah.

I turn away, looking over the edge of the cloud.

Despite all the bullshit up here, on the ground, people are celebrating. They’re cheering and laughing. They’re sharing healing potions and carrying people. Mages and wizards and spirits, all so mixed together I can’t tell where the battle lines were even drawn.

“Thank you,” I whisper. “Thank you all.”

No one on the cloud says anything, and no one below can hear me. But I mean it. It took all of us together.

Nariel joins me, watching.

And finally, something in me eases. Like I had to see everyone alive to actually believe it.

We did it. We really, really did it.

The work isn’t done—there has been so much damage. But today, my part—the natural magic flow of the universe is restored.

I did that. It took us all, but I made it possible.

And I lived, and kept my magic, and so did everyone else.

After a moment, I feel the others slowly moving to the edges of the cloud, too, to see what our attention is caught on.

I look up at Nariel to find he only has eyes for me.

He holds out a hand. “Let’s go home, Sierra.”

I take it.