Chapter 36

Broken Resolve

He had him! San was sliced clean in half, he knew it. Any second now he'd be on the ground and San's body at his feet. Any second now. Any... what was going on?

Ty hung in the air, the light from his sword blocking out his surroundings, though he had enough information to be sure that he wasn't moving.

Suddenly, his sword vibrated again. Not smooth and purposeful, but sporadic, as if several explosions went off inside, rocking the blade in opposite directions at the same time.

The light dimmed, like thousands of leeches sucking it dry of power, light, and life. Slowly, Ty started to see more of what the light had previously hidden.

San's face snarled up at him through the draining light, his fingers clasped around Ty's sword. San breathed heavily, his body tensed and strained but otherwise completely intact.

“You should see the look on your face,” San taunted. “Whatever is the matter? Is reality dawning on you? Have you realized that nothing has changed? All your trials and choices—all of them have been for naught. You have not changed, you have not 'grown up'—you're the same as you've always been.”

The light fully extinguished, power continued to drain from the sword, growing more LEGO-like with San's every word.

San pulled the sword closer to him, Ty helplessly lowered with it. San's awful face was closer than it had ever been before. Ty could see the strange redness that coated his mouth like saliva as San hissed, “And you still cannot touch me.”

With a small twist of his hands, San broke the blade from the hilt. Ty couldn't comprehend what he had done—the truth too unbelievable to accept. After all that he did with it? From the golden brick that gave it life? It was invincible, indestructible.

It was broken.

San tossed the blade into the air and rammed his fist into Ty's gut. He didn't even feel it.

Ty flew back through the air for the millionth time, neither dreading the impact nor knowing with complete certainty how to land just right. For the first time, he welcomed the impact.

He had lost. What better way to end a journey that began with light than with thick, never-ending darkness?

He saw plush creatures as he passed. They did nothing except attempt to get out of his way. And lower their weapons. They knew he had reached his limit.

Ty knew it, too.

Funny, how sure of everything he had been a few minutes ago. He really thought that everything would be all right—that he had learned something from this crazy place.

The broken blade mimicked his flight from high above him. It spun, dim and broken. Ty still held the hilt in his closed fist. The golden brick sparkled from the bottom of it, reminding him of the person who gave it to him.

Anna—not that puppet fake, but the real deal—what would she say if she could see him now? What if he really died and never saw her again?

And what about the ones who believed in him, even risked their lives for him? Forty-Four, Ben, Gentry, his grandma and... his grandfather. So many people have been there for him and loved him. Could he really throw that away? Could he really give up now?

Not a chance.

Power coursed through Ty's body and the golden brick burst with light, celebrating the return of his resolve. San was wrong—he had changed.

Time to prove it.

Ty held his free hand up, visualizing what he wanted to happen, and clenched it into a fist. Above, his sword shattered into pieces. They rained down upon the plush creature army, knocking weapons out of the hands of those that still had some as the bricks streamed toward their real target: the hilt.

Pieces clicked back into their rightful spot, Ty's sword slowly taking shape again.

A tingling on the back of his neck told him that something was not quite right, and he found out what with a simple turn of his head. Gentry, on his feet again, rushing toward him through the plush army. And Ty flew closer, without a blade to defend himself.

They raced each other, puppet and bricks, for the destruction or protection of the boy in the middle. Gentry's fingers reached, extended, more menacing than ever. Bricks snapped into the hilt, turning smooth and metallic, growing increasingly real as the distance between boy and puppet shrank.

Ty turned himself over in the air, holding his sword out in front of him. Gentry didn't pay any mind to the worthless weapon, his hands moving into positions that would puncture major organs.

Ty tilted the sword at the mechanical heart, and the last piece fell into place.

#

Ty and Gentry landed on opposite sides of one another, their backs turned. Cliché didn't even begin to cover how Ty felt, but at least he knew he wouldn't be the one to fall over from dramatically delayed wounds.

Gentry clawed at his torso as cuts appeared all over his wooden body. Flakes of wood drifted around him as his frame became unstable and his torso tumbled to the ground. Gentry reached helplessly through the air as his legs landed on top of him. He swatted them away as if they had betrayed him.

Ty walked over to him. He didn't mean to cut him in half—at the moment of impact he'd felt a resistance that changed the angle of his attack. Only one thing that could have done that: the heart.

The machine thumped violently, sensing Ty's presence and wanting nothing more than to lash out at him. But it couldn't. Whether from protecting itself or Gentry's broken form, it had reached its limit.

Ty held his sword in both hands above his head.

Gentry's hands leapt at him for the last time.

Ty plunged the blade into the heart and the puppet's hands stopped mid strike. They fell to the floor and lay still.

Ty placed his foot on his friend's shoulder, twisted his sword, and yanked out the machine. Inside, Gentry's cloak slipped out of the large crack as strands of darkness. They crawled up his sword, up his arm, and brushed against his cheek like a loving animal. Ty laughed, and the cloak leapt from his arm, back to its master.

A curious thing happened then. The strands didn't return to their cloak form, but seeped into Gentry's body. When the last of the darkness entered, a great sigh escaped Gentry's painted lips. His eyes shone with their full glory.

“Welcome back,” Ty smiled as he offered his friend a hand.

“Thank you,” Gentry's voice creaked, from under-use or broken parts, he wasn't sure. “How did you get so much taller than me?”

Gentry took Ty's hand and the boy pulled him up onto his back. “Um, yeah, about that...” Ty picked up Gentry's legs and showed him, sheepishly.

“Oh, wonderful.”

“I'm really sorry, the machine, it—”

“Don't worry about it, Ty,” It might have creaked, but the warmth in his tone was apparent. “I'm very grateful. I owe you my life.”

“Aw, it was nothing,” Ty grinned. “Besides, we aren't out of this yet. And, um... can you hold these?”

Gentry reluctantly took his legs from Ty. “There's something awfully uncomfortable about holding your own legs. I pray you never experience it.”

“Me too. And, again, I am so sorry,” Ty said as he kicked the broken heart off his sword.

“We have other things to worry about,” Gentry nodded his head at something.

Ty could guess at what. Or who.

“Kill him!” San roared from the other side of the stadium. “Kill them both!”

The plush creatures backed away from Ty and Gentry. A few of them waved little white flags.

“No! You worthless maggots, do as I say!”

They didn't.

San directed so much hate Ty's way, he could almost see it in his eyes, a fiery inferno of rage.

“I. Will. Not. LOSE!” San punched the ground with both of his massive hands and a crack split the ground, a spiderweb of cracks spreading throughout the colosseum.

San slammed one foot on the ground and the entire world shook as it unraveled, the cracks giving way to deep, dark nothingness below. The walls quaked and sank, plush creatures running every which way.

“Run!” Gentry shouted, making Ty's ears buzz. “Whatever you do—don't fall!”

“Not planning on it,” Ty called back as he leapt over a missing section of the floor.

San spat the red goo from his mouth, large round chunks of it. Ty jumped out of the way as one exploded behind him, burning the air.

Ty threw some of his own blasts into the mix, exploding the rest of San's attacks before they could get too close. One blew close to San, blinding him.

“Now, Gentry!” Ty finally yanked the key from his pocket and threw it to his friend. Gentry knew what to do immediately. He fired his hand, key clutched in his wooden fist.

Ty sent more blasts San's way to further disorient him. He deflected each one, but they distracted him from the hand that jammed the key in the lock and twisted.

Gentry's hand scrambled to the handle and opened the door with a squeak, drawing San's attention. He lashed out at it, but the hand reeled out of the way and climbed atop of the door frame, grabbing tight.

“Hang on!” Gentry yelled, and Ty jumped as the strings pulled them toward their freedom.

San used two fingers as a pair of scissors to cut the string, but not fast enough—they already had enough momentum to carry them the rest of the way. San made a grab for Ty, but a burst of energy sent him safely underneath.

Gentry's hand on top of the door lost the little grip it had managed to keep, and fell into Ty's upturned palm. He passed it to Gentry and the string reattached itself—just before they dove through the doorway.

The familiar darkness surrounded them, ready to take them home.

But San wasn't.

Gentry's weight left his back and, panicked, Ty reflexively snatched upward. The puppet caught his hand and Ty's body lurched to a stop. San held Gentry's head in one hand, while the other had a firm hold on the door frame. His towering body started to ascend back into the collapsing world.

Ty and Gentry's eyes met and he knew exactly what the puppet was thinking.

“Don't—”

Gentry let go of Ty's hand.

#

Ty fell.

But not for long.

A mental push carried him out of the darkness as he yelled, “Stupid puppet! For the last time, you're,” Ty passed Gentry, closed in on San, and delivered a mighty kick to his chin,“coming with me!”

The red sprayed from San's mouth like blood, and he finally relinquished his grip on Gentry. The puppet plummeted deeper into the dark, the bottom half of his body clutched in one hand.

Ty used his other foot to kick off of San's face, pushing him the rest of the way through the doorway. He angled himself into a diving position and chased after Gentry, completely oblivious to the hand behind him, the middle finger extended in a killing jab.

#

The golden brick burst to life and Ty's arm lurched off behind him of its own accord. He followed it in time to watch his sword hit San's finger head on, run down the length of it, and sever it from the rest of the hand. The speed of the hit kept it spinning... straight for Ty.

He could do nothing as the finger sliced across his face. He shouted in pain, blood rushing from the wound and blurring his vision. He could only barely make out the shape of Gentry below him. A light formed from the bottom of the abyss, eating Gentry and growing larger and larger until Ty flew past white instead of black.

“This isn't the end, boy!” San yelled. “This was merely a prologue to something much larger! I will have my—”

The light swallowed up Ty, where not even San's taunts and curses could follow.