Vlad’s mouth tightens into a thin line. “She was a madwoman.”
“Maybe,” Sabra speaks up, her earlier nervousness apparently evaporating as her eyes harden. “Or maybe you just didn’t like what she was telling you anymore.”
Bold. Either foolish or confident in her protection.
A hissing noise comes from Vlad—inhuman, threatening.
Phoenix jumps in quickly, mediating. “She sometimes saw visions from other planes when they intersected with this one. Visions of the future.”
“And what her mental state was like at the end of her life isn’t the point,” she hurries on, leaning forward as if to block her grandfather’s view of Sabra. Protective. “The point is that you know she saw true things at times. And one of the visions we suspect might have been true was when she foresaw that all life on Earth as we know it would be threatened by spirits from the other realm.”
Vlad makes a spitting noise—contemptuous. “Nonsense. Spirits cannot traverse realms.”
I force myself not to look at my brothers, but I feel Abaddon shift beside me. Another tell.
Vlad catches it immediately—sharp, observant. “Do you know different?”
Layden speaks up, though I register he does so cautiously. Choosing words carefully. “We have some experience with spirits who can cross realms. Usually it’s only a one-way journey, though. To a very specific realm.”
It’s a half-truth. Clever. He’s talking about Kharon, who carries human souls to the death realm when they die. But we all witnessed what his newborn daughter did on the helicopter—tearing open portals to places that shouldn’t exist. Lauren shook with real terror as she described that dragon dimension, and I saw the damage to the aircraft myself from whatever they’d encountered there.
“But it proves that realm-crossing is possible,” Layden concludes.
Phoenix looks her grandfather boldly in the eye—unusual courage, considering his obvious volatility. “And my mother told me she’d witnessed it before too.”
“We do not speak of that,” Vlad swipes a hand harshly through the air, face contorting with anger. Old wounds there.
“I’m just saying we know realm-crossing is possible,” Phoenix presses. “So Sabra’s grandmother’s vision is possible if something unforeseen changes the variables.”
“Nothing ever has,” Vlad says stubbornly, glaring. “Short-term possession is not true crossing.”
“Until now,” Layden interjects quietly.
“What?” Vlad demands, attention snapping to him. Then to all of us. “What does your family know?”
Again, Layden speaks for us—taking point. “I know that I’ve been watching the world’s computer systems, and something alien has been infiltrating government AI. Soon the humans will lose control of their own technology, and they won’t even see it coming.”
“How do you know if they don’t?” Vlad demands, leaning forward. “What makes you so special?”
Good question. I’m curious myself about how much Layden will reveal.
“I have a certain connection to the spirit realm,” is all Layden says. Vague. Diplomatic. “I recognize the runes in the AI algorithms as a language of spirits from another realm. It’s invisibly interlaced on top of the humans’ code—driving and directing it toward the spirit’s ends.”
“Which is? What do they want?”
“We don’t know,” Phoenix says, “but they knew enough to realize Layden was watching them. They could sense him and his family and used the human military to attack them.”
She pauses for effect.
“Whatever they’re trying to do, they don’t want to be stopped.”
“Even if I were to believe any of this nonsense—” Vlad waves a dismissive hand, “—why should I care about what computers in some other country are doing?”
Phoenix’s mouth actually drops open—shock at his willful blindness. “They’re infiltrating Russia and China, Grandpapa. And you know enough of the world to realize anyone who starts with those powers won’t stop there.”
She leans forward, passionate now.
“You have a good life here. You have control and power.” Her last words are said through her teeth, as if it’s not something she’s entirely happy about. Resentment bleeding through.
