He put his disruptor’s muzzle to the chain of the manacles binding her to the altar, and he fired. The chain disintegrated. As the cross fire continued around them, he pulled her off the obsidian slab and huddled with her behind it.

“Gutsy plan!” she shouted over the screeching of weapons fire, then ducked as a stray shot passed close overhead.

Gun-shy and bewildered, he yelled back, “What plan?”

Bridy pointed at the glowing gem. “We have to get the artifact before the Klingons beam it out!”

Quinn gestured at the wild crisscross of energy beams. “Be my guest!” He sniped a pair of Klingon officers as they tried to snag the radiant crystal. Whoever was picking off the Klingons from the balcony was keeping Zett and Marqlar pinned down.

“I’ve got an idea,” Quinn said. “If you cover me, I can—”

That was as far as he got before the roof came down and a living nightmare of smoke, shadow, and fear dropped in.

T’Prynn was lining up a shot on the Klingon commander when the roof caved in.

Cascading into the cavernous chamber below, intermingled with smashed slabs of stone and an avalanche of dust, was a dark and chilling presence. As it poured into the temple, the air became cold and sharp with the odor of ozone.

Though she had never before encountered them firsthand, T’Prynn was certain the invading entity was a Shedai.

On the lower level of the temple, Zett Nilric, the Klingon commander, Quinn, and a human woman—who T’Prynn recognized as Bridget McLellan from the U.S.S. Sagittarius—all were trying to get to the mysterious artifact on the pedestal.

The Shedai surrounded the object with a dark tentacle of energy, cutting them all off. A second tendril of dark fluid snared the Klingon, then expanded into a black blizzard driven by a foul, cold wind. Within seconds it ripped the burly soldier to pieces, showering the walls with his magenta-hued viscera.

Reaching out with a tentacle that transformed into a dark vortex, the Shedai lifted the artifact high into the air.

The crystal flared with a blinding pulse of light. Beneath it, the pedestal shattered. The glyphs on the walls flickered like high-intensity strobes, and a tremor shot through the temple, splintering the floors and walls with cracks.

The few surviving Klingon soldiers and scientists evacuated the temple. McLellan evaded another falling section of the ceiling. Zett fled down a side passage, and Quinn ran after him. In the center of the mayhem, the Shedai grew larger while filling the air with a sepulchral groaning.

This would seem an opportune time to withdraw,T’Prynn decided. She bolted back to the gap in the wall through which she had entered.

Drawn across the lonely silence of the void by a summons of inchoate pain and rage, the Shedai Wanderer had known that only the Telinaruulcould be responsible.

She manifested upon yet another former world of the Shedai that had been infested by flickers of life whose ephemerality was matched only by their arrogance. Who were they to defile a Shedai Conduit? To imprison one of the enumerated, one of the Serrataal,in this greatest of all abominations, this prison of dimensional folds disguised as a simple crystal?

Look at them flee in terror,the Wanderer gloated as she tore the first of the interlopers asunder. Seeing the simple being’s innards liquefied by her wrath filled the Wanderer with pleasure. They have all earned this retribution a thousandfold.

The Wanderer took the hated crystal from its interface and turned its vile machinations to her own purposes. She destroyed the pedestal—added ages earlier by another upstart species of Telinaruul—and focused her power through the Conduit. With the might of this young world’s fiery core yoked to her will, she could at last smash the long-hated abomination and welcome a partner in her quest for justice. Together they would usher in a new era of Shedai sovereignty.

First she needed to purge this Conduit of Telinaruul.

Then she would cleanse this poisoned world—and teach these sparks of consciousness to fear their betters.

48

Ragged chunks of the ceiling fell from high above Quinn’s head and shattered on the steps ahead of him as he ran up a flight of spiral stairs in pursuit of Zett Nilric.

The ruins quaked. Thunderous sounds reverberated in the temple’s walls and echoed through its passageways. A haze of dust rained down on Quinn, who coughed and wheezed. He squinted in pain as fine particles drifted into his eyes, which watered as he struggled to keep Zett in sight.

All Quinn could see of the Nalori thug were his feet, several meters ahead and just shy of the curve of the staircase’s inner wall. The rest of Zett was out of sight, sparing the assassin a well-deserved shot in the back.

A massive slab of rock smashed down in front of Quinn, pulverizing three steps into rubble. He stumbled backward and pressed himself against the outer wall as the huge piece of debris rolled past him.

He sprinted forward and almost impaled himself on Zett’s knife.

Twisting at the waist, Quinn dodged the stab.

Zett snapped his arm back to wind up for another blow. Quinn raised his arms. The knife jabbed forward.

Quinn swatted the blade aside with his forearm—and a metallic clang of impact as the knife struck the armored bracers concealed beneath the sleeves of Quinn’s jacket.

Noting Zett’s wide-eyed stare of surprise, Quinn smiled. “I thought we might end up doin’ this little dance. Came prepared.”

Zett lunged as if hoping to gut Quinn with one stroke. Quinn sidestepped the attack and struck Zett’s wrist with a scissoring blow of his armored forearms.

The knife flew from Zett’s grasp and tumbled down the stairs behind Quinn, its blade ringing like a chime as it bounced off the stone steps and walls.

As Quinn cocked his arm to pummel Zett, the Nalori’s foot snapped forward and hit Quinn in his solar plexus. Pain shot through Quinn’s gut as the air left his lungs, and he fell backward. Zett turned and continued his mad dash up the stairs.

Fighting for breath and summoning strength to push through his pain, Quinn forced himself to continue his pursuit.

As he neared the top of the staircase, the tremors plaguing the temple worsened, and the mortar between stones in the walls began to turn to powder. Great fractures split blocks of sandstone with sharp cracking noises.

The staircase let out onto a wide, flat terrace nestled in the temple’s roof. Across a small gap, on an adjacent terrace, a Klingon shuttle was powering up to make a hasty retreat.

Zett sprinted toward the shuttle, apparently hoping that with enough of a running start he could leap across the divide to the next terrace, where the Klingon shuttle crewmen were waving for him to hurry.

The assassin came to an abrupt, clumsy halt, pointed, and shouted in tlhIngan Holto the Klingons.

The Klingons stared in confusion for a moment before they realized Zett was pointing behind them, and they turned.

A tall spire toppled over and collapsed onto the Klingons and their shuttle. Tons of rock crushed the small spacecraft into a heap of twisted, sparking metal.

Having nowhere left to run, Zett turned and faced Quinn, who had drawn his borrowed disruptor and aimed it at the sharp-dressed killer. “Lose your weapon,” Quinn said. “Two fingers only.”

“Don’t be stupid about this,” Zett said as he lifted his sidearm from its holster using only his thumb and forefinger. “This place is eating itself. You can see that, can’t you?”

“Yup.” Gesturing with a tilt of his head, Quinn added, “Toss it over the side. Now.” Zett threw his disruptor off the roof. Quinn nodded. “Good. Now ditch your knife. The special one you keep under your left arm.”