by Lori M. Lee
Avan’s eyes brightened until they shone like liquid gold. “Istar has had a busy few months.”
He didn’t deny it. I pressed my palms against my closed eyes, trying to breathe. When I felt stable again, I grabbed his shoulders.
He stiffened. When I did nothing but hold on to him, he slowly eased.
“The Infinite are . . .” I struggled to pull my thoughts together into something coherent. “The Infinite are incarnations of . . . of notions like strife and death, trapped by the limits of those concepts and by the rules of their kind. But humans, Avan—humans have the ability to determine their own futures, to make their own rules. You wanted that once. And to . . . to jeopardize your own safety by accompanying a friend into the unknown, to stand and fight under siege—” I made a wild gesture at the army on the other side of the wall. “It’s not a curse that humans rise to meet their challenges.”
He watched me intently, as if entranced.
“Avan,” I said, hating the way my voice broke. I had to stay strong. “Don’t let the darkness win. If any part of you loves me at all, fight that darkness. Please.” My palms slid over his shoulders as I pulled him close, encouraged by the way his expression softened. I spoke against his collarbone. “I can’t lose you a third time.”
I felt Avan relax against me muscle by muscle. His hands came up, fingers tangling in my hair. Something was getting through to him. I could feel it.
“I dreamed about you,” he said, his voice surprisingly bleak. “While you were gone. I don’t know why, but we were in the Tournament dorms, and I was telling you about how I wasn’t used to anyone having the power to hurt me anymore.”
I went still. “What?” I whispered, my own dream from more than a week ago rushing back to me.
Do you remember our first kiss?
“Kai,” he whispered, his eyes shutting. He gently pushed me away.
I didn’t understand what any of it meant, and I didn’t have time to explain anyway. I spoke quickly. “You told me once that loyalty can’t be willed. That real loyalty is a decision you have to make for yourself.” My fingers pressed into his skin. His pulse fluttered against my fingertips as I pleaded, “Let the people choose.”
Our gazes held, but as usual, his face gave nothing away. His eyes were mesmerizing, like looking into the heart of a flame. He focused on something behind me.
I wrenched away, my mind jumping for the threads a second too late. Pain burst in my temple, followed by darkness.
CHAPTER 34
SOMETHING HEAVY WEIGHED me down. Warm air kicked up around me, pelting my skin with dust and tossing my hair against my face. Light jabbed my eyes when I tried to open them. I winced, blinking rapidly and squinting until my surroundings came into focus.
My side ached from lying on hard stone. I groaned and rolled onto my back to find myself looking up at a veil of clouds. I tried to sit up. Metal chains clanked against the shackles around my wrists and ankles. I guess that explained the weight.
Avan, I thought, my heart fracturing. I pushed him from my mind. Now wasn’t the time to break down. I had to figure out what was happening.
There was a slight throb in my temple, but I seemed to be in one piece. I sat up as best I could to get a better look around. I was on the battlements at the top of the wall. Parapets flanked my right, the side that overlooked the Outlands, but there was no barrier between me and a long fall on my left. Judging by what I could see of the city, I was right above the front gates. I didn’t need to strain my ears to hear the restlessness of Lanathrill’s army on the other side of the wall.
Nearby, Cassia sat in an embrasure, looking unconcerned about the forty-foot drop. She looked pensive instead. I hoped she was plagued with guilt. When she noticed I was awake, her back snapped straight and her face went blank.
“Where’s Avan?” I asked. I blew irritably at the hair falling over my eyes. I couldn’t brush the prickling strands aside because my wrist shackles were connected to my ankles. I folded my legs to give my arms more reach and knocked the stray hairs back.
Cassia watched me. “I don’t know,” she said. “We’re waiting for word from Kahl Emryn.”
“Word about what?”
“The goddess has demanded a sacrifice to honor her and herald the coming victory.”
“What victory? There hasn’t been a battle. The gates are open. Just let your army in.”
Cassia regarded me with that haughtiness I remembered from our first encounter. “The only way a conquered city will truly submit to its new leaders is if it knows the consequences of defiance. If we simply walked in and said we were staying, do you think anyone would accept it?”
“You can’t, Cassia. So many people will die. You already have the blood of the hollows on your hands, and now you want to add civilian men and women? Children?”
She closed her eyes tight as if trying to shut out my words. She lowered her face, her hair falling limply around her cheeks. Her lips were leeched of color, and her skin looked sunken, dark, and wrinkled. She appeared twice her age.
“I have to,” she said, a dull acceptance in her voice. “The goddess has willed it, and she cannot be denied. I’m sorry, Kai.”
A sacrifice. I looked again at where I was. Directly above the gates made a convenient spot for a public execution. Dozens of homes spread out before me. People simply had to look out their windows to watch. Or maybe Avan and his sentinels would force the citizens out of their homes to stand in the street like spectators at the theater.
I scanned the sidewalks, the shadowy spaces between buildings, the darkened windows. I spotted a few faces pressed to the glass but no sign of Reev or Mason. Cassia had fallen silent, and I looked to find her staring out at her army. There was a faint tremor to her hands as she gripped them tightly in her lap.
“Out of Dust?” I asked coldly.
She flinched. “I’m sorry for lying to you,” she said. “But the Dust . . . It’s like I’ve been missing something my whole life and didn’t even know it until the magic showed me how it felt to be complete.”
I rolled the links of my chains between my palms, annoyed that I did understand. That was how I’d felt when my powers returned.
“Without it,” Cassia said, lifting her arms and glaring hatefully at her shaking hands, “I feel empty, like there’s a great gaping hole inside me that can’t ever be filled.”
“Cassia, there’s a reason nothing’s grown in the Void since Rebirth. The magic there is poison. By eating it, you’re taking in all that chaos and anger from the war. It’s not surprising there’s a cost.”
Cassia looked dubious.
“Ask Emryn if you don’t believe me. But you can see yourself what it’s doing to you. Using magic isn’t what drains you; it’s the magic itself. The Dust is making you sick.” Mentally as well as physically, although I didn’t say so. If I called her crazy outright, she’d probably be less inclined to listen. “If you don’t stop, it’ll kill you.”
Her fingers closed into a tight fist, but even then, she couldn’t still the trembling. “I can’t. The goddess taught us how to awaken the black earth, and once you’ve known magic . . .” She swallowed. “There’s no going back.”
“Her name is Istar,” I muttered. I looked out over the battlements. Istar was somewhere out there. I wondered if she could see me. The fury inside me flared hot and red. “Come out and face me like your brother did instead of hiding behind these people like a coward!”
Cassia gaped. “How dare you attempt to speak to the goddess?”
“I’ve met Istar. She wasn’t all that impressive.”
“You’re lying,” Cassia said, incensed. “The goddess has never given her name, and we would never dare to ask. She has proved her presence and her power to us. You would do well not to anger her.”
“Why? If you think I’m going to be a willing sacrifice, you don’t know me very well.”
“No,” she said. “I don’t. We’ve both kept secrets and lied to each other.”
I slid across the stone so I could sit up against the parapet. I twisted my head around and could just see through the embrasure to the army beyond. The soldiers looked travel weary and they spoke under their breaths to one another, passing time while they waited for their Kahl. I looked away. It was easier to hate them when I didn’t think of them as human.
From here, I could see the industrial chimneys and dirty rooftops of the North District.
“When you told me about your brother, about leaving a legacy, was that a lie, too?” I asked.
Cassia shifted uncomfortably.
“This is how you want to be remembered? As someone who brought war back into the world?”
Cassia stared at her lap. I didn’t know if she was ignoring me or mulling over my words. Before I could say anything more, the sound of heavy footsteps caught our attention.
Emryn was coming up the stairs, accompanied by two of his men. He had discarded his cloak. His circlet gleamed from atop his brown hair, and he stood tall and striking in his recently polished armor. He looked windblown, but it was as if our skirmish at the gates had never happened. Either he ate less Dust than his Council or he didn’t use his magic as often.
“So are you my executioner?” I pushed to my feet. Standing, the farthest I could lift my arms was waist level. I shuffled forward.
His men tried to grab me. Emryn held out his hand to stop them, and I inched my way across the stone until we stood toe to toe. If he meant to kill me, he’d better be willing to look me in the eyes and admit it.
I was a little surprised when he did.
“Yes,” he said steadily. This close, I could see the regret in his eyes. It only made me angrier. No matter their personal feelings, he and Cassia would see this through because of their mindless devotion to Istar and her false promises of immortality and magic. “I take no joy in it, but the goddess has spoken. I can’t refuse her.”
“Of course you can,” I said, putting every ounce of derision I could into my voice. When his gaze slid away from mine, the satisfaction was brief.
“You can try to use your powers, but it’ll only delay matters. You won’t get very far with those on.” He nodded to my shackles.
I conceded the point. What good was slowing time if all I could do was hobble along a few feet?
He watched me, waiting for me to respond. I set my jaw and raised myself on the balls of my feet, testing my balance. Then I rocked back and bashed my forehead into his face.
The burst of pain was overshadowed by the crunching sound of his nose breaking.
He stumbled back with a cry as his men rushed forward. One of them caught him around the shoulders while the other dragged me back. I tripped and fell onto my side in a tangle of chains.
Emryn elbowed off the soldier trying to help him and glared down at me through his bloodstained fingers. Did they honestly think I was going to make this easy for them?
He waved the other soldier toward me. The two men grabbed me by the arms and hauled me to my knees. A fist in my hair yanked my head back, forcing me to look up at Emryn’s bloody face. His beard shone wetly around his mouth.
“You have a right to be angry.” His voice was muffled as he pressed a handkerchief to his nose. “But it won’t change anything.”
A foot planted in my back, forcing me to bend over until my forehead almost touched the floor. I struggled to break free, but the soldiers only dug their fingers deeper into my skin.
“Emryn,” Cassia said. “Maybe . . . Maybe this isn’t necessary.”
I tried to look at her, but the soldier with my hair wrapped around his fist thrust my head back down so I could see nothing but the stone between my knees.
“Cassia?” Emryn’s voice was sharp with suspicion.
“I can talk to the goddess,” she suggested. “I can see if there’s another way. Kai has abilities that we’ve never even read about from past mahjo. Maybe we could use—”
“You’ve never questioned the goddess before. Don’t let her play to your sympathies simply because you were friends.”
“If friendship means that little to you, then why were you so broken up about the friends you lost to the chimera?” I asked scornfully. “Would you have killed them if your goddess told you to?”
Emryn didn’t reply. One of the men holding me pulled my hair off my shoulders to expose my neck. I tried to get my feet beneath me so I could thrust upward, but they held me down.
Now would’ve been a great time for another lesson in how to slip into the River, but of course, Kronos remained silent.
The low murmur of voices carried up from the street. People must have noticed what was happening and either stepped out of their homes or opened their windows for a better look.
“Last words?” Emryn asked.
“I suppose you think chopping my head off will make your family proud.”
“Restoring Lanathrill will make my family proud.”
He drew his sword.
CHAPTER 35
I SEIZED THE threads. Time slowed.
I bent and twisted as much as I could. My bones and joints screamed and hair was ripped from my skull as I worked myself free of my captors. After long, agonizing seconds, I was able to move my neck out of the path of Emryn’s sword. I raised my head and gasped, flinching back.
An arrow was caught in the threads, not a foot above where my head had been. Was someone else trying to kill me? I wrenched my arms from the men’s hands, seething with frustration.
Finally free, I whipped my legs around just as time stuttered forward. I grappled for control of the threads and kicked out at Emryn’s leg.
My hold slipped and the threads sprang forward. In the rush of speeded time, my foot smashed into Emryn’s knee. He collapsed, his cry cut short as his cheek cracked against stone. His sword fell with a metallic clang, and the arrow found its mark in the chest of one of my captors. The soldier gaped, stumbling backward. His arms flailed as he toppled over the parapet, screaming.
A second arrow whizzed overhead, landing with a thunk into the other soldier, who dropped to the stone. Shouts rang out from below. The rumble of feet pounding over the main road was followed by the clang of striking weapons and the whistle of arrows. I crawled to the ledge, ignoring a dazed Emryn as I peered down on the city.
The Watchmen had been freed. And the sentinels. Lanathrill soldiers were now swarming through the gates to meet them. I scanned the chaos for Mason and Reev.
Emryn muttered curses behind me. I turned to see Cassia helping him to his feet. He grabbed his sword, using it like a cane to help him stand. With a frantic look at me, Cassia tugged Emryn toward the stairs.
They didn’t make it very far. Emryn jerked backward, his sword flashing up to block a glowing torch blade.
I shuffled forward, my chains getting caught around my legs. “Reev!”
His eyes found mine. Then he turned on Emryn.
With chilling intent and single-minded strikes, Reev drove Emryn back. The memory of Reev advancing on me in the arena crowded my vision, threatening to paralyze me. I gripped my chains and let the pitted metal ground me. This wasn’t the cold detachment Reev had shown me in the Tournament. This was unadulterated rage.
I’d never seen Reev’s true skill with a sword. He was every bit Emryn’s equal. It was all Emryn could do to block the white blur of his blade.
Mason had come up the stairs behind Reev, snagging Cassia before she could sneak past him. She watched the fight, her hands slightly outstretched as if deliberating whether to use magic to help Emryn.
I could understand Emryn’s own hesitance to use his magic. I’d seen what even the smallest demonstration could do to him, and he needed his strength.
I scooted across the wall, away from the ledge and its perilous drop. Then I pushed along the side of the parapet toward Mason. He had a torch blade, which would be enough to sever my shackles.
Reev slammed the butt of his sword against Emryn’s temple. Emryn fell to his knees beside m
e, fresh blood dripping down the side of his face. He wavered, looking ready to collapse.
I wanted to feel triumphant. Instead, I felt ill.
“I’m sorry, Kai,” Emryn managed between ragged breaths. Reev pressed the tip of his blade beneath Emryn’s jaw.
“Are you?” I didn’t know why I asked. His answer didn’t matter.
Reev rotated his sword. Red welled up around the shining blade. “An apology won’t save you,” Reev said.
“I’m not looking to be saved.” Emryn didn’t flinch as blood dripped down his neck.
“Emryn!” Cassia’s desperate cry seemed to strengthen him. He looked up at Reev, waiting.
Did I want Reev to have to carry this death with him always, the way I carried Ninu’s with me?
“Reev . . .” I began. A sound rose on the wind. My body went rigid. “No,” I whispered.
The faint whine strengthened into a voice, clarifying into words I couldn’t understand. The song filled the air, attempting to slip inside me. I raked my fingers across the rough stone, ripping the soft tissue of my fingertips, and pushed the magic away.
Reev’s torch blade slipped from his hand. He took one faltering step backward and then his legs gave out. I lunged forward, half tripping on my chains. My knuckles scraped painfully on the stone, drawing blood, but my hands caught his head before it could strike the surface. I carefully rested his head on the ground. Mason lay nearby. He had fallen on Cassia, who was extracting herself from beneath his limp body, looking shaken.
“No, no,” I repeated as I rose clumsily to my feet and looked out over the street.
Every sentinel, rebel or loyal, had been knocked out. Lanathrill’s soldiers and the newly freed Watchmen were awake, but unnaturally still. I knew what would happen next. Even the citizens came pouring from their homes in the grips of sudden violence. They grabbed the nearest objects that could function as weapons and hurled themselves at the spellbound Watchmen while the soldiers began stabbing at anyone within reach.
Horror and helplessness seized me. I wasn’t strong enough to stop them. I couldn’t freeze time the way Kronos could. I dragged in lungfuls of air as I bent protectively over Reev.