by Anna Argent
A wave of humiliation and nausea slammed into Echo. She was used to being different, but these people were supposed to be like her—at least a little. Of course, they’d probably all grown up in actual homes. They certainly had a place of their own now, in this giant building with its very own swimming pool, for crying out loud. They had no idea what it was like to live on pennies, always running, with nothing extra for extravagances like cell phone plans. And while Echo had no choice but to live on the run, she knew it made her an oddball. Less than normal. Less than, period.
Unwanted.
She felt like crawling into the deepest cave she could find and staying there until everyone forgot about the poor little street-waif with no family or friends.
Being on her own was so much easier with no one around to judge her. Why had she ever thought she could hang with other people and not be found out as the freak she was?
As soon as Marvel swiped her badge and came back in the room, Echo said, “I’m not your problem.”
Marvel winced. “You heard that? I’m sorry.” She had the decency to blush.
“A lot of people don’t have phones.”
“Sure. A lot of old people. A lot of people in countries with no cell towers.”
Echo refused to back down. She had no one to defend her but her, and she wasn’t going to let some nerd make her feel like trash. “A lot of people get by without email or the Internet.”
Marvel snorted. “Now you’re just being ridiculous.”
“No, you’re being a spoiled diva. You sit here in your clean room, keeping out all the germs and nastiness of the world while everyone else is out there fighting and struggling to survive. We all have problems, not just you.”
Marvel stared at her for a long moment. It was then that Stygian’s reminder to play nice came back to Echo.
Now she’d gone and pissed off the woman, likely causing him no end of grief. And while Marvel might not be able to destroy a cell phone or computer that Echo didn’t own, she could make his life a much less pleasant place.
Echo opened her mouth to say that she was sorry when Marvel smiled.
“I think I’m going to like you,” she said.
Echo frowned, confused. “What?”
“I hate bullshit. Don’t have time for it. Thank you for not trying to feed me any. It’s refreshing.”
While Echo was left reeling from the sudden turn in the conversation, Marvel sat and slid over to the second keyboard from the end. “Now, tell me what you need again. A map? Of what?”
Echo wasn’t sure what move to make next, so she just answered the question while she regained her footing.
“I’m not sure. I have this map, but it doesn’t say what city it’s in.” She pulled out the map her mother had drawn and laid it next to the keyboard.
“Um. Sweetie, that’s not a map. It’s a child’s scribbles.”
“Not to me, it’s not. I can read it just fine.”
Marvel’s emerald green eyebrows rose. “Respect.”
“I think it’s a city we lived in when I was a kid, but there were several, so it may take me a minute to find the right one.”
Marvel grudgingly rose from her chair. She only came up to Echo’s nose, but that didn’t stop her from issuing threats. “You can use my system, but if you change any of my hotkeys, it’s on.”
“I thought you said you liked me.”
“I do. That’s why I’m letting you near one of my keyboards. Now sit and do what you need to do while I activate a cell phone for you.”
“I don’t—”
“You do need one. You will accept it. You will keep it charged and open to receive my calls. You’re one of us now, and that obligates you to stay in touch.”
Echo closed her mouth around a stream of arguments before she said something wrong and lost her computer privileges. Until she found the location of this map, she was at Marvel’s mercy.
Such as it was.
***
Stygian hung up the phone, cursing Marvel for calling Echo a freak. Their resident tech goddess had a lot of power, but that didn’t give her the right to insult someone she barely knew.
“Don’t be mad at her,” Eden said as she led him to the couch tucked in one corner of her room. “Marvel is under a ton of stress. She hasn’t slept in months, and it’s starting to take its toll.”
Eden’s space was decorated in pale purple and yellow. She had a desk along one wall, cluttered with notebooks and papers. A chair upholstered in long, white fur sat askew as if she’d just gotten up from doing homework.
There was a twin bed, still unmade. The lavender bedding was a rumpled mess that Stygian could barely stand to look at. When he’d been her age, he would have taken a beating for leaving his bed like that—when he’d been allowed a bed at all.
Apparently, Argo was far more lenient than Stygian’s grandfather had ever been.
A compact sofa sat under the window, facing a TV too large for the space. There was a gaming console and a stack of movies sitting in precarious, crooked towers, some DVD cases hanging open.
Her closet looked like it had vomited out its colorful contents onto the floor, and from this angle, he could see that her bathroom wasn’t much better. Makeup, hair trinkets and discarded clothes covered every surface like some kind of rainbow fungus.
Travel posters lined the walls, depicting all the usual destinations: New York, Paris, London.
Stygian doubted that Eden would ever be allowed enough freedom to see any of them. She was too important to the cause—her skills too vital to risk letting her out into the world.
Without her, they wouldn’t know who was on their side, who was telling the truth, and who was lying.
Stygian averted his gaze from the chaos and gave Eden his full attention. “Ever since Starry turned on us, everything has been off. I know Marvel has a lot on her plate, but she’s got to pull herself together before she says something she can’t take back.”
Eden folded her skinny legs under her and curled up on one end of the couch. Stygian moved a pile of clothing and books so he could sit on the other.
“I’m working with her,” Eden said. “Her shards are parading around in her brain like it’s a rave at Comic-Con. It’s a wonder she can function at all.”
“I can’t worry about Marvel right now. She’s here. She’s safe. My focus has to be on Echo and dealing with this prophecy before the new moon.”
“We’ll take care of Marvel. Just try to be nice to her, okay?”
“I’m always nice.” At least he was until it was time for someone to go down—just as he’d been taught to do. “Now, what has you upset enough to sneak around behind Argo’s back?”
Eden brushed her black curls away from her face. “Argo thinks I should leave it alone, but I just can’t.”
“Leave what alone?”
“Your shards all want the same thing. The good guys, the bad guys…they all want Echo. Which begs the question—”
“Why?”
“Exactly. I’ve been mulling it over since I judged her, and I’m getting nowhere. What do you know about her?”
“Not much. Her family is dead. There’s this guy she calls the rat man who killed them. He keeps following her.”
“He wants her, too?”
“He or someone he works for. Could be Phoenix.”
“What’s so important about her?” Eden asked.
“The latest discovery is that she can read maps no one else can. She can locate certain objects because they ‘sing’ to her. Her voice is a tool, or perhaps even a weapon. So far, that’s all I know.”
Eden scrunched up her mouth and frowned in thought. “Can I try something?”
“What?”
“I want to talk to your shards.”
Stygian leaned away from Eden. “No. It’s too dangerous for you to interact with them on a whim. That’s why you didn’t want Argo around, isn’t it?”
“He’s overprotective.”
“He�
�s just protective enough. We’d be lost without you, kiddo. You have to stay safe.”
Eden rolled her green eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I know the speech, Dad. No one else can judge shards like me, and if we don’t have a judge, people could slip over to the dark side without realizing it was happening, or someone would fool us into believing they were one of us, then rip out our throats while we sleep.”
“You say that like you don’t believe it.”
“I believe it. I just don’t like it.”
“Well, tough. And calling me Dad like it’s a bad word won’t change my mind. We all do things we don’t like. This is yours. Suck it up.”
She let out an exasperated sigh. “Just let me try to talk to them. You’ll know if things go sideways. I swear I’ll stop if you tell me to.”
“No.”
“Don’t you want to know why all your shards want Echo?”
“I do, but—”
“But nothing. You said you only have until the next new moon to figure this out. Let me help. I’m not a kid anymore. I want to help.”
“You are a kid, but I appreciate you wanting to grow up and help. I really do.”
“Then you’ll let me take a quick peek? Chat with your shards?”
He really could use the help. He didn’t have much time, and he still wasn’t sure exactly what it was he had to accomplish before the clock ticked its last tock.
Eden grinned. “You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?”
“I’d let you do it if I knew it was safe.”
“How dangerous can it be to have a conversation with people who are already dead and broken into little pieces? It’s not like your shards are contagious. Seriously. It’s no big thing. I’ll be in and out before you know it.”
“Before Argo knows it, you mean.”
“He’s grumpy. Probably needs to get laid. Just like you do.”
“Eden!” Stygian was both disturbed and startled by her statement. She was too young to be thinking about stuff like that. Wasn’t she?
At her age he’d been too busy trying to survive his grandfather’s brutal lessons. Even so, he had thought about the opposite sex. A lot.
How old was she now? Fifteen? Older? He couldn’t remember.
She rolled her eyes again. “Puh-lease. It’s just sex. I saw you two going at it in the hall. You old guys are so uptight about it.”
At twenty-nine, he didn’t consider himself old, but he could see how Eden might. “We are not having this conversation. Not now. Not ever.”
“Fine. Whatever. I’ll stop talking about sex if you let me do this. Deal?”
Stygian needed whatever information Eden could gain. And she was right. There wasn’t much his shards could do without his body, and so far, he was in complete control. At least he believed so.
“Come on,” she said. “This is my job. You all talk about how important it is. If you really mean that, then let me do it. Let me help.”
He hesitated again, but in the end, she was right. He needed her help.
“Okay. But if things get weird, you get out. Understand?”
She saluted. “Yes, sir. Now shut up and close your eyes.”
Stygian did as she asked. She took his hand and instantly, he felt her clean, young presence in his mind.
As was always the case when Eden inspected his shards, they were in a gladiatorial arena. The sand was furrowed from combat and soaked with blood in spots. The stands were filled with blurry, faceless spectators, except for one.
Hazel. The Witch of the Pageant, as she was called.
She sat holding a bundle of cloth in her arms. The sun shone on everyone around her, but a shadow hovered over her face, hiding her expression.
Her hair was long and black, laying in a thick braid over her shoulder. Her skin was milky pale, and her eyes were the deep brown of wet coffee grounds. She was beautiful, and she knew it.
She stared at the men who were nearly naked, standing lined up in the arena, each one covered in cuts and bruises. Sand clung to the sweat and blood coating their skin, and their bodies rippled with muscles and power.
Eden appeared in front of the line of men. She looked different here, clothed in a pristine white robe and giving off a light that seemed to pour out from inside of her. It was kind of creepy to see a kid look so powerful, but it was a grim reminder that she wouldn’t be a kid forever.
One day Eden would grow up and be a force of nature. All they had to do was keep her alive until that day came.
She walked up to the first gladiator, who was a burly man in his late forties. He was short, with graying hair and sky-blue eyes.
“Why do you want Echo?” Eden asked.
The man’s gaze slid past her to stare at Hazel in the stands, his nostrils flared with disgust, his mouth curled in contempt. “We need her.”
“Why?”
“So we can banish the witch.”
“Hazel?” Eden asked.
The man’s eyes narrowed with hatred. “She can’t stay here.”
“Why not?”
“She’s killing us,” the gladiator said.
Stygian didn’t understand. How could one shard kill another?
“How?” Eden asked, echoing his question.
“She makes us fight. Keeps us weak.”
Stygian looked at the fighters lined up in the arena. Were there fewer of them than before? He thought so, but he wasn’t sure. And if there were fewer men, where had they gone?
“Silence!” Hazel shouted from the stands. She looked at Eden. “Come.”
As if teleported, Eden appeared next to Hazel, and Stygian panicked. He knew that what happened here wasn’t real—at least not in the physical sense—but seeing the kid so close to a monster freaked him out.
He thrust himself into the scene through an act of sheer will. His clothes were gone, and he was dressed in the same loincloth and leather harness as the gladiators.
Hazel saw him and smiled. “So good of you to come. Here. This is yours. Ours.”
She thrust the bundle of fabric at him, and only then did Stygian see that it was a baby, sleeping soundly.
“I don’t understand,” Stygian said.
Hazel shrugged. “You will. Look at him. Closely.”
Stygian was half afraid to obey her order, but his curiosity was too piqued not to see what she meant. As he carefully unwrapped the baby, Eden continued her interrogation.
“Why do you want Echo?” she asked the witch.
“Is it not obvious?”
“Tell me,” Eden demanded, her voice trembling with power.
The roughly woven fabric fell away from the baby. He was naked, healthy, strong. But he wasn’t right. In the center of the infant’s chest was a hole the shape of a perfect triangle. There was no blood, no trauma—just a missing piece, as if the child were some kind of incomplete puzzle. Stygian could see the swaddling through the hole, lying wrinkled under the baby.
Hazel ignored Eden’s order. Her voice was deceptively sweet, almost singsong. “Wake, child. Show Daddy your pretty, pretty eyes.”
The baby opened his eyes, and they were the same pale teal color as Echo’s.
That’s when Stygian realized why Echo was so important—why Hazel needed her. Echo had a piece of Hazel’s soul in her. That’s why she was important.
That’s why he couldn’t keep his hands off of her. Both Hazel and the shards who fought against her wanted to be more whole, to become stronger. They wanted the shards inside him to unite with those inside Echo.
They wanted a baby who would inherit all of them.
He stared at the witch, shaking with fury. “We’re not giving you a child.”
Hazel’s grin widened. “I suppose you could die first. But then you would miss the birth of your firstborn son. Pity.”
Eden said, “She’s playing you, Stygian. I can feel her lies.”
“Leave us,” Hazel said, and instantly, Eden was gone.
He was trapped inside himself with Hazel, her
power over him too strong for him to break free and go back into his body.
She smiled as if she enjoyed his apprehension. “It is just the adults now, so I can be frank. You will fuck the new girl and give us a son, or I will fight my way free of the cage she has me in and kill her.”
“There’s not enough of you in Echo. You don’t have that kind of power over her.”
“Do I not?” Hazel asked, almost sweetly. “Are you willing to bet her life on it?” She glanced at the baby. “Or his?”
Stygian cradled the infant closer. He knew it wasn’t a real baby, but it felt like one. It smelled like one. His instincts couldn’t tell the difference, and the need to protect him was overwhelming.
“I have no siblings, no heirs. What do you think would happen to your pieces if I strapped bricks to my legs and stepped off a boat in the middle of the ocean? There’d be no one around to absorb your shards. You’d be spread on the wind, scattered in a hundred different directions.”
A flicker of fear crossed her lovely face, but she hid it quickly. “My soul is strong. There is nothing you can do to destroy it. All you can do is destroy yourself.”
“I won’t let you use me. Or Echo.”
“Then you will have no son.”
The baby in his arms evaporated, leaving an empty pile of rags in his arms.
“No! What have you done to him?” Stygian demanded.
“You said you do not want him. Was that a lie?”
He didn’t know what to think. He was too rattled for his mind to work through what he’d seen here.
“If you do not cooperate, if you do not give me a child, then I will find another way to be made whole.” With that, Hazel pushed him hard enough to send him tumbling.
He lurched to break his fall. The couch he was sitting on made a squeal as it scooted against the concrete floor.
He was in Eden’s room, not a gladiatorial arena. Hazel wasn’t here. He was safe. So were Echo and Eden.