Transcendent

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Authors: Lesley Livingston
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. . . ?”
    â€œNot dead.”
    â€œRight. And that’s good. Right?”
    Mason just looked at her.
    â€œI mean, of course that’s good.”
    Suddenly, there was another tremendous shuddering beneath their feet.
    â€œIt’s been doing that for days,” Heather said. “The whole city. Ever since the train bridge thing. It’s like the world is cracking open.”
    â€œMaybe it is,” Mason murmured.
    â€œCome on,” Heather said. “Let’s get out of here.”
    Together, they went back to join the rest of the crew.
    â€œToby thinks we should head back to Gos because it’s the only safe house in Manhattan,” Roth was saying when Heather and Mason joined the others. Most of the shallow cuts on his arms seemed to be healing, fading with the breaking of the blood curse. “And I agree. It’s protected ground.”
    â€œIf that’s the case, then why were we attacked in the gym?” Cal asked. “How could that happen if the Academy is protected like you say?”
    â€œMy guess is because the facility was brand-new.” Toby shrugged. “So the draugr were able to climb the walls, cross over the roof to get access to the oak in the courtyard and bring that down—a kind of battering ram to breach the gym walls.”
    Daria nodded tightly in agreement, pushing her hands compulsively through the mess of her hair, over and over again, as if trying to physically regain control of herself. “It was the only section of the quadrangle that was vulnerable that way,” she said. “The founding families hadn’t had time yet to come together to install their integrated protection spells on it.”
    â€œI guess they didn’t see this coming,” Mason said, trying to control the urge to walk up to the Elusinian priestess andpunch her in the face.
    â€œOh, they did.” Toby snorted. “For the last thousand years they’ve seen this coming. Just, you know . . . maybe not this week.”
    â€œThen it’s still not safe—”
    â€œYes. It is,” Daria interrupted her. “The board reinstated the defensive spell work later that night. It’s secure. And probably the only square city block in all of Manhattan that would have remained immune to the Sleeper’s Fog.”
    â€œAll right, then,” Mason nodded. “Gosforth it is.”

IX
    G wen Littlefield’s body was gone.
    Shards of glass from the shattered Observation Deck barriers littered the plaza pavement, glinting like slivers of ice in the pooling rainwater. Over near the great golden statue of Prometheus, a section of the concrete was cracked and buckled inward, like a small impact crater. The cracks that spiderwebbed out were stained a dark crimson. Mason’s steps faltered and she turned and looked back up at the Rockefeller tower. High above them was the terrace where the black marble altar still stood. And this was the place, she knew, where Gwen had fallen.
    But her body was nowhere to be seen.
    It was strange. Worrying. But seeing Roth standing there, staring down at nothing but a blood stain, Mason was grateful beyond words. She couldn’t imagine what it would have done to her brother to have seen his love, broken to pieces. Mason reached out a hand and touched his shoulder.
    â€œThere’s nothing we can do here,” she said quietly. “Come on. We have to—”
    â€œMason!” Cal shouted suddenly. “Look out!”
    He hurtled toward her, crashing his shoulder into her and sending her flying. She tumbled painfully to the ground and heard herself cursing as the palms of her hands scraped along the sidewalk. When she lurched back up to her feet, Mason rounded on Cal, fists raised, in the instant before she realized that he’d probably just saved her life.
    The thing that had slammed out of the sky was so hideous that her brain found it difficult to put into words. A

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