The Infinite

by Lori M. Lee

  Bloodlust. Savage, unleashed bloodlust. That’s what I was seeing in him and in every soldier here. Their guttural sounds of hunger and their cries of satisfaction as their weapons found more hollows made my stomach heave. But I had to keep it together.

  He lunged at me. I sidestepped, grabbing his arm and twisting it behind his back. He roared, but I grabbed a fistful of his hair and guided his head down to my raised knee as hard as I could. There was a crack, and then the soldier slumped to the ground, out cold.

  I hurried back for Jain just as another soldier yanked his sword from her belly. Blood gushed from the wound.

  “No!” I drew my blade. With a furious strike, I severed the soldier’s sword hand. He went down with an agonized cry, clutching the bloody stump of his wrist. There was a noise behind me. I turned too slowly. Pain sliced through me as a sword cut through my tunic and ripped open skin.

  I staggered, but there was no time to recuperate. I brought my sword up to block another blow, letting those long hours of training with Mason guide my movements. Rage fueled me as I kicked out, smashing my foot into the soldier’s knee. She stumbled, and I swung the hilt of my sword, smashing it into her temple. She dropped.

  I sank to Jain’s side, my hands pressing hopelessly against her wound. Already her face had gone pale.

  “Drek, drek, drek,” I whispered, my eyes stinging, the wound in my side throbbing.

  Fear and adrenaline rushed through me, but I didn’t know what to do. I scanned the Fields, hoping to find some kind of help. The gargoyles—I realized they’d been unaffected by the song and had sensed the danger. But the sheer number of Emryn’s army had overwhelmed the creatures, and there was no help to be found. There was only death and horror. I spotted Aylis, his chest a bloodied mess of bone and skin. My stomach tried to heave again, but I held it down. I couldn’t find Gret and the others, lost as they were amid the bodies.

  “I’m sorry,” I said brokenly. “I’m so sorry, Jain.” And then I gasped. I whipped around as I realized I’d left Mason unprotected.

  A soldier stood over him, bringing his axe down on Mason’s neck. My heart stopped. I was too far away. In the space of a blink, I saw Avan’s back as he stepped into the path of Reev’s blade.

  I would never watch someone I love die again.

  My entire body—every nerve, muscle, and bone in me—screamed: Stop!

  Everything stopped.

  The threads of time burst into view in a blinding flash. They shimmered around me, brighter than I’d ever seen, swaying as if greeting me after our long separation. Something inside me rose in response, eager to embrace those shining threads, but I didn’t have time for a lengthy reunion.

  I sucked in frantic, uneven breaths as I scrambled forward, my fingers clawing through the dirt and bloody grass. Tears blurred my vision as I collapsed beside Mason’s body, the axe’s blade poised inches above his neck.

  The threads vibrated, warning me. Time began to stutter forward again. I took hold of Mason’s shoulders and heaved with all my strength, dragging him across the dirt. I could feel my control slipping. The threads snapped free of my grip.

  In an instant, time surged forward. The axe streaked downward, dirt spewing through the air as the blade struck the earth. I hovered over Mason a few feet away, the farthest I could lug him.

  “Leave him alone!” I said, pointing my weapon at the soldier. The soldier wrenched his axe free of the grasping dirt. His nostrils flared, and his face flushed red. The veins in his forehead looked ready to burst.

  He swung his axe.

  “Wait.”

  The soldier twitched, his axe veering wildly to the side. I turned to see who’d spoken, although I knew the voice.

  Cassia and the rest of the Council rode from the trees. At the gruesome sight before her, she sucked in a sharp breath. But then her mouth flattened into a severe line, and she surveyed the Fields, assessing her losses.

  She had known this would happen. They had all known.

  Movement behind her caught my eye. It was Emryn, the back of his head and the gold glint of his circlet visible between the trees as he rode away.

  “Emryn!” I screamed, my shrill voice echoing around us. “Emryn, you coward!”

  One of the Council members—Henna—pushed his horse forward, blocking my view of Emryn. “We should kill her,” Henna said, scowling down at me.

  “Silence,” Cassia ordered curtly. But her eyes pleaded with me to understand.

  There was no forgiving this. My hands trembled, but not with fear. Fury, dark and violent, reared inside me. My fingers clenched around the torch blade. In that moment, I knew what I was capable of, and whether it had anything to do with the Infinite inside me didn’t matter. I would twist my fingers into the threads of time and drive my weapon into every one of them for the lives they’d taken, for deceiving me, for making me an accomplice in luring the hollows here to be slaughtered, after they’d played their part in ridding Lanathrill of the chimera.

  I was the daughter of Time, and I would make them pay.

  I raised my sword arm, the movement jostling the weight in my lap. Looking down, I suddenly remembered Mason’s still form, his head cradled against my legs. My fingers dug into the leather that covered his chest. I swore. And then I swore again. I couldn’t leave his side. I wouldn’t leave him unprotected again.

  Instead, I focused the full force of my anger on Cassia. “How could you do this?”

  She flinched, the barest of movements that I didn’t think anyone else caught. Then she lifted her chin, looking down her nose at me. “Take her prisoner.”

  “Cassia,” Brienne said, objecting.

  Cassia silenced her with a look. That was new. I suspected they were ranked by level of power. That would explain why Cassia, the youngest of them, was the voice of the Council.

  “The goddess’s song didn’t work on her. She’s different. Didn’t you feel it before? The way the world wavered and slowed.” Cassia’s blue eyes searched mine, as if trying to work out what I’d done. “Looks like I’m not the only one who’s been keeping secrets.”

  The singing had grown faint, and the Fields had gone eerily still. That could mean only one thing. I had to look.

  Bodies and blood everywhere. Pain dug talons into my chest, making it hard to draw a breath. Every hollow, sentinel, and gargoyle was dead—except Mason. The enormity of Cassia and Emryn’s betrayal crushed me. Despair threatened to eclipse my fury.

  The soldiers had gathered around. A few of them realized Mason was still alive and stepped purposefully forward. I rose to my knees, torch blade ready.

  “Leave him,” Cassia said. The soldiers stepped back. I wondered how much of their obedience came from the song’s spell and how much was simply ingrained instinct and training. “Take them both prisoner.”

  I brandished my blade as they circled me and Mason. There were too many of them. The threads quivered, practically begging to be used. My fingers twitched. If I slowed time, I could escape. But not with Mason.

  “Kai, you know you can’t win,” Cassia said reasonably. I could read the warning in her voice. She didn’t want to hurt me—but she would if necessary. “You’re surrounded and utterly outnumbered. Come with us peacefully, and I promise no harm will come to you or Mason.”

  I scoffed. “What good are your promises?”

  “I haven’t allowed them to kill you yet, have I?”

  “As if you could,” I said, sneering.

  “And what about Mason? What is his life worth to you?”

  She had me cornered. The only way I was going to get Mason out of here alive was to cooperate. “Give me a promise I can trust you to keep.”

  She pursed her lips in distaste but eventually said, “I swear on the goddess and the magic she has bestowed upon me that Mason will not be harmed.”

  Even though every instinct I possessed was screaming at me to snag the threads and escape, I lowered my torch blade. Hands grabbed me from behind, a soldier at either
side keeping me immobile. They hefted Mason like a sack of flour and tossed him over the back of a horse.

  “Be careful with him,” I snapped.

  “Take him to the dungeons,” Cassia said. At my glare, she added, “Try not to be so rough.”

  A woman jumped into the saddle in front of Mason. Then she nudged the horse into motion, and the soldiers parted to allow them through.

  My palms grew clammy as I watched Mason’s limp form disappear from view. Once they were gone, Cassia nodded to my captors, and they began wrangling me toward a horse. Out of the corner of my eye, I glimpsed the silver panels of a scout.

  “If you want answers from me,” I shouted to Cassia, “you’ll keep your word.”

  “As I said, Mason will remain unharmed.”

  “Good,” I said. “Then I’ll meet you at the citadel.” Before she could question what I meant, I spun on my heel and slammed my forehead into one of my captor’s faces. His nose broke with a crunch. He cried out, his hands falling away from me. My mind leaped for the threads.

  Time slowed. Cassia was caught in mid-shout. Her auburn hair floated around her face, riding a still wind. I eyed my torch blade, lying a few feet away where I’d dropped it.

  While she deserved it, killing her now would feel too much like what her soldiers had done to the hollows. So instead, I shoved through the wall of people while my control over the threads still held and jumped onto the scout’s back. My fingers scrambled for the button on its neck before I slapped my hands over the sensors.

  I released the threads, and we shot forward as time rebounded. We sprinted through the trees, leaving behind the sounds of horses and bodies crashing through the woods after us.

  CHAPTER 27

  THE SCOUT CARRIED me through the sparse woods and into farmland. Its metal paws tore over cresting hills, heedless of the way we ripped through stalks of wheat, until we reached the Silver Road again. There was no sign of the soldier who’d taken Mason. I turned my scout in circles, torn. Find Mason and take him to safety before returning to the citadel? Or hope that Cassia’s promise held and meet her in the citadel as I’d said?

  Maybe they’d taken Mason back via a different route. I had studied the map of Lanathrill for long enough that I’d picked out half a dozen other paths from Vethe to the Fields of Ishta. The one we’d taken wasn’t the most direct, just the most accommodating for a marching army.

  With a curse, I urged my scout north for Vethe. I needed answers to what the drek just happened and what they were planning next before I could make a proper escape. And I wasn’t leaving without Mason.

  At full speed, I reached the entrance into the mountainside within ten minutes. The guards opened the doors with little more than a few puzzled questions about why I was alone. It seemed not all of Emryn’s soldiers had been in on the betrayal.

  Had any of them known? Had they left Vethe today, knowing that they would become murderers? Or had their goddess’s song been as much a surprise to them as it had been to me and the hollows? Pain pressed around my lungs again at the reminder of so many lost lives.

  I thanked whatever power was higher than the Infinite that Hina had remained in Etu Gahl.

  Once I reached the citadel, I left my scout on the steps and stormed inside, ignoring the questions of the soldiers who’d been left behind. I headed straight for Emryn’s war room. The door was locked. I reached for my torch blade, and then swore when I remembered I didn’t have it. I lifted one foot and slammed my boot against the thick metal. The door clanged and rattled on its hinges, but didn’t budge. I did it again.

  “What are you doing?” Behind me, the cries of servants filled the hallway. “Stop! You must stop!”

  They grabbed for me, but I shoved them away. Wincing from the wound in my side, I delivered one last furious kick to the door. It wouldn’t give.

  “Have you gone mad?” one of them asked, as he tried to restrain me. I knocked him aside. They murmured to one another about getting the guards as I pushed through them and headed back outside.

  I sprinted across the courtyard, following the shadow glass walls of the citadel until I came to the Temple of the Council of Vethe. I had no idea where Cassia’s room was, but there were only four Council members. Couldn’t be that hard to find, right?

  Wrong. The corridors around the gallery were lined with doors, all of them nearly identical. And there were three more corridors just like them. Drek.

  A servant turned the corner and startled at the sight of me.

  “Yara!” I rushed forward. “Can you tell me where Cassia’s room is?”

  “K-Kai,” she stuttered, her face pale. “Why are you here?”

  Disbelief and anger clamped down on me again. “You knew.”

  She dropped her head in shame. Her fingers brushed the tattoo on her face. “I’m Cassia’s personal servant. There are things I can’t help overhearing.” She looked at me. “I’m so sorry, Kai. I didn’t know when I left Lanathrill that the reason I was bringing you back was to . . . to . . .” Tears welled in her eyes.

  I hardened myself to them. “You could have warned us. You’re as guilty as they are.” I stepped in close, squashing my guilt when she shrank away in fear. “Show me where Cassia’s room is.”

  “I . . .” She glanced over her shoulder, looking for an escape. I grabbed her collar. She yelped, her fingers grappling against my hold.

  “You didn’t care that you watched us march to our deaths this morning,” I said coldly. “As long as the goddess commanded it. You rode into the Outlands on nothing but a promise. Of course you’d let us die as well if that’s what your goddess supposedly wants.”

  Yara didn’t reply, but the way she squeezed her eyes shut was answer enough.

  “Show me her room,” I demanded again.

  She gave a frenetic little nod, and I eased my grip on her tunic. She led me down the corridor and up the stairs to the third floor. We stopped in front of a door with a pale blue circle painted into the wood and a gold starburst at its center.

  With shaking hands, she pulled a set of keys from her dress and unlocked the door. I nudged it open with my foot, in case Yara had tricked me somehow.

  The room was tidy and sparse. Books from the library were piled on a dresser along with two makeup pots and a shadow glass comb. The mirror hanging above the dresser was old and spotted, a spider web of fine cracks at one corner. A braided rug covered the floor. A few fat candles and glimmer glass lined the mantel above the fireplace along with a bowl of scented water. I recognized Cassia’s robes draped over the back of a wooden chair.

  I yanked Yara inside and pushed her at the bed. “Sit.”

  She did, wrapping her arms around herself and watching me with fearful eyes. I wasn’t actually going to hurt her, even if she deserved it.

  “So what’s their next move?” I asked as I felt around the mantel for any hidden compartments. The fireplace was cold, as if it hadn’t been lit for a while. Unsurprising, considering most of the fireplaces in the citadel remained untouched. The burning falls kept the air warm enough.

  “I don’t know,” Yara said. I glared at her, and she shook her head. “I swear! I don’t know. I only knew about what would happen today because I overheard Cassia and Brienne while I was washing Cassia’s clothes.”

  I kicked aside the rug to make sure it wasn’t hiding any trapdoors. As I knelt to peer beneath the bed, the threads shimmered and I felt a slight tug to my left. I turned, my eyes fixing on the dresser. I felt it again, a building sensation in the pit of my stomach.

  My hands roamed over the makeup pots, but they weren’t the source. I bent over, studying the grain in the wood as I ran my fingers along the side of the dresser. There. The slightest break in the wood. I curled my fingers beneath the bottom lip of the dresser and yanked. A hidden drawer popped open.

  A silver box rested inside on top of some loose papers. I touched the box. Magic and darkness shot through me like an arrow. I hissed, snatching my hand back and nearly sma
cking Yara in the face. She had crept up behind me.

  “What is it?” she whispered, trying to get a look inside the drawer. I ignored her.

  Shaking out my fingers, I focused on my own magic and reached for the box again. The threads flowed around me, soothing and constant. This time, when I touched the box, whatever magic was trapped inside remained at bay. The words on the papers caught my attention. I set the box on the dresser and reached in for the pages.

  I scanned the foreign words. This was the same language from the papers locked up in Emryn’s war room. Since I still couldn’t make sense of them, I set the papers aside and leaned over to study the silver box.

  The silver looked tarnished. When I swiped my finger across the lid, a fine layer of black dust stained my skin. I removed the lid. The dread in my stomach deepened. Inside was more of that same black powder. The slight timbre of its magic tugged at me, a sense of foreboding trickling across the back of my neck, like I was standing in the Void again.

  I frowned, dipped my finger into it, and then lifted the substance to my face for a closer look. It was solid black, dull, and fine like silt. I’d seen traces of black powder on Cassia’s gown the night of the ball, but I’d assumed it was soot. Looking at her disused fireplace, that clearly wasn’t the case.

  What was this stuff?

  A country of madmen. I wiped the black powder from my fingers with the hem of my tunic.

  “We call it Dust.”

  I whirled around, my mind already hovering over the threads. Cassia stood in the doorway, several of her soldiers waiting behind her in the hall. Yara had sunk into the bed, watching Cassia with bleak apprehension.

  Inches from my neck, a knife was suspended in the air. “That’s original,” I said.

  The knife wobbled, moving another inch closer. I backed into the dresser. The contents on the top rattled. Dust from the silver box spilled onto the dresser.

  Cassia’s gaze fastened on the Dust. Hunger flared in her eyes. Her hands trembled as if fighting her need for it.