Page 88 of Love, Nemesis
Lethe and Cal turned to face her.
“You have to find me in your memories, Lethe, and then we will have a fight, orthefight, I should say. It’s the last survivor against the last survivor. That’s pretty exciting, isn’t it?” Evira rubbed her hands together as she hopped off the stage and started walking off. “I can’t wait. It’s almost like we’re the ones who really get to end the war—see who wins.”
Lethe didn’t move, watching as she cleared from the area. It was quiet now aside from a few men who had come to cart off Anne Rue’s body.
Cal nudged him after a moment.
“Lethe?” he said. “You have a few memories of Ivan, don’t you? Can’t we just go there and find him?”
Lethe turned, and Cal followed him to the nearest door.
“It’s not so simple,” Lethe said. “When they caught me, they had their fun with my memories. It’s why Ivan can replicate them so well. My head is a bit of a mess,” he said. He looked over to evaluate Cal’s condition. The boy was staring off but turned slowly toward Lethe when he noticed him looking.
“Are you going to be all right?” Lethe asked.
Cal swallowed and nodded before looking at the door in front of Lethe. “Why are we going in there?”
“I need some kind of trigger,” Lethe said, “to help me switch memories. The Strike like tormenting people with memory, but I’ve been in this situation before. Follow close.” He reached for the handle in front of him, grabbing Cal’s sleeve before opening it and walking through.
Instead of the inside of the shop, the door led them to another memory. They both stumbled as they entered into it, the door vanishing behind them as they fell into a street.
It was raining hard, lightning cracking across the sky. Lethe pulled Cal aside as two Riders rode past them, swinging chains with flaming maces at the end. A loud whistle echoed through the air as one of the nearby houses exploded into dark smoke and a Strike walked out, eyes gleaming teal.
A Rider jumped from his horse, and the teal-eyed Strike lifted an arm, commanding the black smoke around him into a liquid spear that shot through the Rider before a swing of a dark blade from the smoke beheaded him.
An explosion shook nearby, sending debris raining over them.
Lethe cursed, wrestling Cal into a nearby alleyway. The boy curled up with his hands over his head. “Where did you bring us?” he shouted.
“Battle at Cleary. I only have so many reliable memories where I know we can find Ivan.”
“Where is he?” Cal shouted over the noise, searching the area before flinching from another explosion.
“We need to cross a few streets.”
Yet another explosion shook the air.
“What?”
“Listen to me,” Lethe demanded, yanking the boy’s collar. “Remember, this is just a memory; everything has already happened. Some of the Strike can still hurt us though.”
“That’s not like a memory at all!” Cal argued.
Lethe rubbed his face briefly. “All right. Let’s go,” he said, jerking him up as they ran through the rain.
Lethe slid to a stop, peering into a street when he saw a Strike waiting there. The Strike had blue eyes.
“Can he see us?” Cal whispered.
“Not that one,” Lethe said, and they crossed the street in a hurry, navigating through a few alleys.
Lethe grabbed the reigns of a horse that was loose in one of the streets. He hopped on, pulling Cal up with him before they raced forward.
They headed toward another set of explosions, rain blasting against them as they joined a group of Riders racing toward a central direction.
“Hold on tight,” Lethe demanded, feeling Cal’s arms tight around his waist as he and the other Riders charged toward a Strike.
The Strike, golden-eyed, sent a barrage of black blades their way, materialized from dark smoke—Madness from the Eating Ocean, manifesting in one of its many forms.
