Chapter One-Hundred Fifty-Five

"I'll pay the price," Kurogane said.

Aghast, Syaoran snatched his sleeve. "No," he whispered, not caring that his voice trembled, not caring that his father watched them both with raised eyebrows. "No. Please, no."

Gently, Kurogane laid a hand on his shoulder. "Let me do this," he said, his voice tender. "Let me do this one thing without you trying to sacrifice yourself instead." He turned to Watanuki, his expression becoming grim. "You said we needed some kind of fissure. What will it take to make one?"

Watanuki hesitated, and every glimmer of hope in Syaoran's heart wilted like a flower with its stem cut. I can't let him do this, he thought, frantically trying to come up with a solution. Perhaps they could split the price, as they had when they'd paid for Mokona. Then none of them would lose anything too precious. Anything to keep Kurogane from paying this toll. The man had cut off his own arm in Ceres; Syaoran had no doubt he would do it again to get out of here. Whatever it costs, it will cripple or kill him. I have to do something.

"I also have a wish." The words tumbled out of his mouth just as Watanuki was about to speak. The conversation broke apart like a toothpick snapped under a child's fingers.

Before Syaoran could say anymore, Kurogane's hand clamped over his mouth. "Don't. You. Dare." The words sent a cold shock through his body. A part of him had always known Kurogane was dangerous. A part of him had been attracted to that danger. But now, hearing the threat in the ninja's voice, he doubted he'd have been able to speak even if Kurogane wasn't holding a hand over his mouth.

"I . . . I would hear his wish," Watanuki said, stiffening when Kurogane whirled to face him. Fortunately, his hand fell away from Syaoran's lips as he moved. Unfortunately, Syaoran could no longer gather the wit to speak.

"I'm paying the price," Kurogane spat. "And you fucking know he's going to ask to pay it in my place, or split it up, and I'm not going to let that happen."

There was a loud sigh. Syaoran's eyes flickered to his father as he shuffled forward with leaden steps. "Neither of you will pay this price."

"Well, I don't see how we're going to get out of here if—" Kurogane broke off, staring down at Syaoran's father's feet. How odd, Syaoran thought distantly, following with his eyes. Then his body went rigid. No . . .

"Oh, fuck," Kurogane said.

Tiny cracks spread upward from his father's feet, widening until the shards flowed apart like a pane of glass breaking in slow motion. Magic shivered through the air, like a thousand threads snapping. "Father . . ."

"I would not have survived long after leaving this place," his father told him gently. "When one's creator vanishes, the creation also vanishes. I learned that from the Space-Time Witch. I knew this would happen."

Stunned, it took him a full second to process that. His body and mind were created by Fei-Wang Reed. The moment Fei-Wang fell, he would've ceased to exist. There's no way to save him. It seemed a terrible truth, after everything he'd been through. He had joined this group to save his Sakura, to save everyone. He had paid for his choices in blood and pain and loneliness. And now he was being told that he couldn't save his own father. "But—but . . ." he stammered. "But an artist's paintings don't disappear when they die! A sculptor's creations don't just cease to exist when they do. So why . . . ?"

"I am nothing more than an image," his father said, laying a hand on Syaoran's shoulder as the web of cracks spread through his torso. "A thing of magic and memory. Beyond that, both myself and the image of Princess Sakura have already broken apart once. That makes the magic that holds us together brittle." His expression softened. The fissures climbed up his neck. "I lived my life protecting the person I believed most precious. I do not regret that." His head turned as he looked to Kurogane. "Protect my son."

"Father!" Syaoran grabbed his father's sleeve, as if he could somehow make him whole again.

"When an existence—even a man-made one—vanishes, the world shakes under the waves," his father went on, looking to Watanuki. Magic churned all around him, catching the fragments of his soul and scattering them. "That should make for your fissure. Use that and leave this place."

"Father . . ." Syaoran whispered. He felt Kurogane's arms circle around his torso, not restricting but comforting.

"Even if this was a twisted circle of a world, I am glad to have been born into it," his father said, voice fading as the last bits of his soul floated away. His last words followed, coming from everywhere and nowhere at once. "Thank you."

Kurogane held the kid close, not wanting to admit that a small part of him was terrified of what might happen if he let go. The rest of him basked in the sickly light of his failure. All this, and I still lost someone. His eyes flashed to the empty place left behind by the other kid's passing. Twice. He'd watched that kid die twice today, once as he'd tricked his supposed master and again to rip a hole in the walls of this featureless, empty place.

Syaoran remained stiff in his arms, trembling. After a few moments, he tried to pry Kurogane's hands away. "Don't," Kurogane whispered, too low for the other kid—Watanuki—to hear.

Syaoran went as still as a startled rabbit, then craned his neck to meet Kurogane's eyes. "Please let me go."

Kurogane stared at him dumbly for a second, an unfamiliar sense of hurt shooting through his chest, then reluctantly let his arms fall slack. Unfettered, the kid took several steps forward, standing inches from where his father had stood only moments ago. Striated with faintly glowing cracks, the impenetrable darkness of this place had disappeared. That seemed like little consolation, considering what it had cost to make those rifts. Without a word, the kid knelt where his father had died, head bowed.

"The rifts left behind in this world won't last long," Watanuki said quietly. "I know it hurts, but we have to go."

Syaoran didn't move. Kurogane half-raised one hand. "Kid—"

"I know." The boy stood, shoulders slumped. He started to turn, then froze as light rippled across the air in front of him. Kurogane stepped forward, already reaching for Ginryuu, then stopped as he saw the source of the light. A feather?

"Memories," Syaoran said softly, hands encircling the luminescent feather. The light around it pulsed, a warm amber to complement the cinnamon-brown fibrils of the feather. "The most powerful form of magic in the world."

"Memories? His?"

The boy nodded, facing him. "The dead cannot be brought back to life. But my father . . . he was a magical construction. It stands to reason that if we can find a body to place these memories in, he might be revived."

Kurogane opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. "Is that a good idea?"

"I don't know." The kid stowed the feather in one of his pockets and looked to Watanuki. "My father's sacrifice left fissures in the edges of this world, but it's going to take more than that to get out."

Watanuki nodded. "A price. I learned the things required for a price from Yuuko. Time, connections, choices . . . Things that are broken can never truly be made perfect again. To stitch the fabric of reality together again, after what was done to it . . ."

"Some part of that fabric will have to bear the stitches," Syaoran finished, looking somber.

"Can we cut the cryptic bullshit?" Kurogane demanded. "We have to get back."

Syaoran and Watanuki looked at him, their expressions unreadable. "I will stay in Yuuko's shop," Watanuki said. "That will minimize the ripples created by my continued existence."

"And I will keep traveling," Syaoran said, "so that I can search for answers without ever staying in one place long enough to cause ripples."

The air—previously stagnant—began to swirl around the three of them. Automatically, Kurogane stepped closer to the kid, anchoring him in place by grabbing his arm. "What's going on?" The unnatural wind folded around them like a giant scarf, shimmering with magic.

"We've paid our price. We're going back," the kid told him. "We still have a fight to win." He jumped as Watanuki's hand came to rest on his shoulder.

"You allowed me to exist," Watanuki said, smiling as light engulfed the three of them. "Thank you." The magic crackled around them, spinning rapidly. Watanuki stepped back, into a different vortex. Kurogane wrapped his other arm around the kid, drawing him closer, shielding him from the storm.

The wind carried them away.

A slash of dark magic nearly ripped Fai in half. Encapsulating himself in another field of influence, he used a short-range teleportation spell to jump to the other side of the room before he could be hit. "Hyuu! That was a close one, wasn't it, Mokona?" He carved another string of runes in the air and tied several thick knots of magic to the bind points, strengthening the spell.

On his shoulder, Mokona whimpered.

Fei-Wang sent a bolt of black lightning toward them. Fai hastily wrote out another teleportation spell, adding several glyphs which would make it repeat at random intervals until he dismissed it. Fei-Wang's sorcery was immensely powerful, a hurricane to Fai's thunderstorm, but Fei-Wang didn't have the swiftness needed to attack Fai before the teleportation spell activated. At best, he could send out multiple attacks at once and hope Fai got caught in the barrage.

Of course, since one solid hit would probably be enough to kill him, it was in Fai's best interests to finish this quickly.

He teleported, attacked, then teleported again, darting around the ruins like a fly jumping through space and time. Fei-Wang's attacks followed sluggishly.

"Fai-san!" yelled the younger Sakura. She and the older Sakura had reappeared when the capsule imprisoning them had broken, as it had been their magic that had destroyed it. They had been the only ones to escape back into this world. Mentally, Fai modified his teleportation spell so it would place him close to the princesses. A moment later, his position shifted again, and he landed in front of both Sakuras.

"You called?"

"Fai-san, something has happened. Syaoran-kun and Kurogane-san—" A sudden crash cut off whatever the girl had been about to say. Fai's head whipped around in time to see a rift in space and time open up near the center of the reservoir.

"You!" Fei-Wang bellowed. "Impossible! You should have been trapped when that capsule shattered!"

Disconcerted that his own thoughts mirrored those of the menacing sorcerer, Fai stared at the two figures that had appeared from the rift. Impossible. It should have been impossible. Despite that, he found himself beaming. They had escaped the space between worlds. They had survived. They . . .

There were only two of them.

No, Fai thought, and it was not denial but despair that crashed through him. If the other Syaoran—the image—had not returned, it could only mean he'd paid for the others' escape with his life.

"No," the older Sakura whispered, and Fai felt his heart break for her. "Syaoran . . . my Syaoran . . ."

I can't let his sacrifice be meaningless, Fai thought, reactivating his teleportation spell and sending himself into the center of the reservoir, where Syaoran and Kurogane stood. They spun around as he appeared, looking startled, then relieved. "I've been wearing him down," Fai said, gesturing to Fei-Wang. "It shouldn't take much more. One solid strike." He looked to Kurogane. "Can you do it if I shield you on the way in?"

A fierce determination burned in the ninja's eyes. "I've been waiting my whole life to do it. But I'm not the only one who deserves a shot at him." He turned to face Syaoran. "Together?"

Syaoran laced his fingers with Kurogane's. "Together."

One solid strike, Fai thought as he began weaving another spell.