Infinite (Incarnate)

by Jodi Meadows

  That was my goal, because we knew dragons patrolled that area, and there was built-in shelter on one side. At first, I’d been afraid I would have to ask Sam to remember details about his trip north, or that I’d have to see if he’d recorded any details in a diary—and if that diary had been scanned into the library’s digital archives—but the sylph ended up saving me again.

  They knew where the other prisons were.

  Of course they knew.

  So the sylph led us north, through the forest of elms and pines and spruces, and though Cris assured us we were getting closer, it seemed we’d be “almost there” forever.

  We’d been in the wilderness so long, Heart, Janan, and everything we were working toward seemed like another life.

  “This is it,” Stef said, walking up ahead with Whit. “This is the edge.”

  Whit checked the sky, all clouds and coming darkness. “Then we’ll stop here for the night. Looks like it’s about to get harder to travel.”

  Sam came up behind me, glancing at me from the corner of his eye. “The edge of what?” He spoke to Whit only, but Stef answered.

  “Weren’t you paying attention this morning?” She rolled her eyes. “Our SEDs are about to be disconnected from the others. We’re too far out of Range.”

  Sam shook his head. “But they work farther south. And east and west.”

  Whit dropped his backpack and began unpacking the tent. “That’s because people go those ways sometimes. They explore. There’s food. Other things we can actually use.”

  “There are towers scattered across the continent,” Stef said, “maintained by drones. They’re what connect your SED to others when you’re outside of Range. But up here, there’s only forest and dragons. No one comes here.” Her gaze darted toward me. “Except us, unfortunately.”

  She could hold a grudge for a long time.

  “So no more calls or messages. Not after tonight.” Whit frowned as he and Stef began putting together the tent.

  No more Sarit was what it really meant.

  “I’ll gather dinner.” At my words, the others only nodded.

  Sylph flashed off into the woods while I dropped my backpack and dug through it for the canvas sack we used to carry dead animals.

  Sam pulled water bottles and a smaller sack from his backpack, and Cris headed toward him. They usually filled up water together, and returned with what looked like clumps of dead grass, but actually tasted okay after being boiled and mixed with whatever kind of meat we got that night. Human or sylph, Cris was still the best at finding edible plants. I wished he’d go with me, though.

  In the woods, sylph darted around, quickly burning squirrels, rabbits, and doves. I dropped the creatures into my sack one by one, and by the time I returned to the others, the tent was up and Sam and Cris were boiling water for dinner.

  “Here you go.” I placed the sack of animals by the pot, hoping. Waiting.

  “Thanks.” Sam didn’t look up. “Stef’s cooking.”

  “Okay.” That was good, actually. Stef was a much better cook than the rest of us. But that wasn’t what I’d been hoping to get from him. Maybe a smile. Or a complaint about the weather. I wished I could tell how much of his misery was aimed at me, and how much was everything piling on top of our search for dragons.

  Sarit told me to try. I gathered my nerves. “Sam, I know I didn’t tell you about the exchange, but I had a good reason—”

  He shook his head. “I’m not ready to talk about that yet. I just can’t.”

  The rejection stung. I turned away.

  While the others took care of dinner, I retreated into the tent, pulling out my notebooks and the temple book. I’d discovered all sorts of interesting things over the last few weeks, but nothing the others would care about right now, so I kept them to myself.

  I huddled in my corner of the tent and turned on the lantern, temple books spread around me. My notebook was almost full with all the translations and facts I’d collected.

  I’d only been working a little while when Cris came into the tent and sidled up to me. -Anything new?- His presence made my corner of the tent wonderfully warm.

  “I think I’m getting to a part that explains how the temple key works.”

  He nodded, just a flicker of shadow.

  “When Meuric had me trapped in the temple, I pressed a lot of the engravings on the key.”

  -Hmm.-

  I spent a few more minutes double-checking my translations before I went on. “All this would have been nice to know before I went in there. Okay, the symbols all do different things inside the temple. Horizontal lines make floors, and vertical lines make walls.”

  -The square creates doors.-

  I nodded. “Inside or out, depending on whether you slide the one half inside the other. I was really lucky, making that happen before Templedark. If I hadn’t done it before the poison took effect . . .”

  -You would have escaped when the light came on again.-

  But Sam, Stef, and so many others would be dead now.

  Cris hummed soothingly. A tendril of darkness slipped around my wrist, over my hand, and between my fingers.

  I closed my eyes and tried to pretend like shadows were enough. Like Sarit’s voice on the SED was enough. But inside me, a hollow grew larger.

  I tapped my pencil on my notebook where I’d drawn the silver box, and each of the symbols etched into the metal. “You’d think I would have guessed, having nearly been killed in one, but the circle creates pits inside the temple. The depth depends on how long you press the button, I think. It’s hard to tell.”

  -And the diamond?-

  “Turns things on their side. Or upside down.” When Meuric had trapped me inside the temple, I’d witnessed everything flip over. There’d been a pit in the center of the room, and suddenly it had been crawling up the wall and over the ceiling like a spider. When I’d pushed Meuric beneath it, he’d fallen upward. “There are instructions for combining buttons to make stairs and things, but it’s a little confusing.”

  -The temple is confusing.-

  I leaned closer to him. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I wish we’d found another way.”

  Roses bloomed in the shadows. -I’d do it again.-

  My heart ached, and when I closed my eyes, all I could see was the knife in Cris’s hands, the blade looking as though it had been dipped in gold as he plunged it into his chest. All I could see was him sacrificing himself to save Stef and me. And now he was this. A shadow. A soul without substance.

  Voices sounded, and footsteps thumped the ground. When the others walked in, Cris jerked away.

  I dropped my face back to my studies, flipping through the books to scan for anything related to dragons. After I’d read through the library archives on my SED, I’d started on the temple books. Maybe they’d be able to tell me something we didn’t already know about dragons. And if we were to meet dragons, I needed to know everything. So far, the most interesting thing I’d found was an ancient animosity between dragons and phoenixes. But that didn’t help me, really.

  “What I want,” I muttered to Cris, “is to know more about the dragons’ weapon.” The books contained frustratingly little on the topic.

  -I wish we’d been able to help more with possibilities for those symbols.- Cris sighed. -Let’s go over the alternate translations tonight. Maybe we’ll discover something new.-

  I smiled at Cris, at his hope, but it was unlikely we’d have any revelations tonight. We’d already been over the passage a hundred thousand times.

  They fight with the weapon that destroys all.

  Or maybe They love the instrument of consuming.

  Or even They fear the tool that builds and destroys.

  Or none of those. With so many symbols possessing multiple meanings, it was impossible for me to guess what these symbols meant in this context.

  “Three more earthquakes today,” Stef said as she lit another lantern, pushing back the coming night. “And another hydrotherm
al eruption near Templedark Memorial.”

  I checked on my SED. The earthquakes had been large, but not as massive as that first one.

  “It’s getting bad there,” Whit muttered.

  “Anything from Orrin?” Stef asked.

  “I got a message from him earlier. He said there’s a fever going around, and they’ve had to stop traveling. Rin is treating everyone as best as she can, but it’s difficult without access to the medicine she’s used to.”

  “Are the newsouls okay?” The question was out before I realized.

  Whit and Stef both looked up at me, as though they’d forgotten I was here. Sam sat near them, but not with; he just stared at his hands, miserable.

  “The newsouls don’t have the fever,” Whit said after a hesitation. “They’ll be fine. They’re hard to hurt, like you.”

  He was wrong. All I did anymore was hurt.

  Whit handed out bowls of soup. I took mine without comment, eating while I listened to Stef and Whit speculate about what kind of fever the others might have. And I watched Sam, hunched over his bowl and seeming deep in thought. When he contributed to the conversation, he seemed only half there.

  Five minutes before Sarit usually called, I ducked outside and hid behind an evergreen tree. Through the sharp-smelling needles, I could see the tent and the light creeping around the edges of it, but I had a little privacy.

  Snow drifted between the trees, making me shiver, but I didn’t want to talk inside the tent. If I did, the others would be awkward and I’d just . . . I’d fall apart.

  Her call came ten minutes late.

  “Sarit.” I sounded maybe a little too relieved. “I was worried you wouldn’t be able to call. We’re at the edge of the signal now. Tomorrow I won’t be able to get you.”

  “Ana.” Her voice was oddly low, sober. “Ana, what is everyone doing right now?”

  “I—” I glanced through the veil of pine needles, but the tent flap was closed. I couldn’t see anything. “Talking, I guess. I’m outside. They’re inside. What’s wrong?”

  Her voice caught, as though she was trying not to cry. “Okay, I need you to go in there. I need you to talk to them for a minute.”

  “What’s going on?” My chest constricted with worry. But I stood, shivering in the snowfall and clenching my mittened hand around my SED.

  “Please. So I can tell you all at once.”

  “Okay.” My dread for her news outweighed my dread of going into the tent again. Even so, the way Stef and Whit looked at me as I entered—and the way Sam didn’t look at me—stung so much I wanted to turn and run back out. I closed the flap behind me and knelt. Cris shifted nearer to me. “Sarit needs to tell everyone something.”

  They looked at me now. Even Sam.

  I balanced my SED on my knee and tapped the speaker function so they could all hear the way her breath caught and trembled. She was crying. “All right, Sarit.” My voice was deeper now, too, filled with foreboding. “Go ahead.”

  “It’s Armande,” she said. “Deborl caught him after one of the earthquakes today. Armande is dead.”

  16

  TOWER

  THERE WASN’T MUCH to say after that. Stef and Whit asked a few questions, which Sarit answered as best she could. Sam just buried his face in his hands, motionless during the entire conversation.

  I wanted to hold him, but when I touched his shoulder, he slumped as though the weight of my hand was too much.

  “He’s not coming back,” Sam said. “He’s gone forever.”

  He was right. For Armande, it no longer mattered whether we stopped Janan. Either way, Armande was a darksoul now.

  “We learned what Deborl is having people build, though.” Grief choked Sarit’s voice. “It’s a cage. An enormous cage, big enough to fit a baby troll inside.”

  “That’s it?” Stef shook her head. “There were more parts than just a floor, ceiling, and bars. That can’t be all he’s building.”

  “More importantly,” Whit said, “what is he building it for?”

  “I don’t know.” Sarit sounded young and alone and frightened. Armande had been like a father to all of us. He was Sam’s father in this life.

  When Stef and Whit were finished talking, Sarit said good-bye to them, and I sneaked outside once more with my SED. I didn’t make it back to the tree, though. Just stopped halfway there, unable to control the tears coursing down my cheeks.

  Armande was gone. I’d never again see him, hug him. He’d never again open his pastry stall in the market field and feed me muffin after muffin, as though terrified I wouldn’t eat enough without his constant vigilance.

  “What are you going to do?” My voice shook with grief and winter.

  “I don’t know.” Our connection crackled, reminding me of the distance between us, reminding me we wouldn’t be able to talk after tonight. “I don’t know. A few people have tried standing up to Deborl, but most of them get put in prison. Maybe I can get them out. Or maybe . . . I don’t know. I’ll keep hiding. Keep up with what they’re building. Maybe I can figure out what the rest of the parts are for. I just have no clue.”

  Everything in me ached for her. She was alone, hiding in Heart without anyone to console her or help her through this grief. “Just be safe,” I whispered. “Do whatever it takes to be safe.”

  “I wish I were with you.” Her voice trembled. “I wish I’d gone with you.”

  “Me too.”

  I’ll call you every night.” Her voice caught on the words. She was trying to sound strong. “I’ll call every night until you come back.”

  “And then you’ll stop calling?”

  She let out a strangled laugh. “Yeah, then I’ll stop calling.”

  A few minutes later, we clicked off.

  I stood outside, weeping in the snow until I heard everyone in the tent climb into their sleeping bags. Only when I was certain they were asleep did I sneak back in and shiver myself warm.

  The next week was a thousand times lonelier than those before it.

  Thunder cracked, startling everyone awake.

  We hurried out of our sleeping bags and scrambled for the door to the tent, but the sky was clear and deep blue with coming dawn. Sylph hovered around our campsite, warming the air.

  The thunder didn’t return. Whit and Stef pushed back inside the tent to start breakfast, but Sam remained by the door, glaring at the sky as if his life depended on it. The thunder hadn’t been real thunder.

  I wanted to reassure him somehow, but I had no words. Only the same awkwardness we’d carried since my birthday.

  “Go inside with the others. I’ll fill up the water bottles.” Apparently, I couldn’t manage reassurance. Just instructions and letting someone know where I’d be. After I’d wandered out on my birthday and Cris had come after me, Whit had pulled me aside and lectured me about telling people where I was going. If I insisted on going after dragons, then I’d best not get myself killed out of stupidity.

  Sam looked at me. Sort of through me. He nodded. “If you see anything, come right back.” There was a note of concern in his voice, but mostly he sounded hollow. He’d been worse since Armande died.

  I put on my coat and boots and headed into the woods with an armful of empty water bottles. A few sylph trailed after me and hung close as I broke ice and filled the bottles in a fast-moving creek. While I worked, sylph dipped tendrils of shadow into the full bottles and boiled the water clean.

  We were almost finished when thunder cracked again.

  I glanced at Cris, my eyebrow raised, but he didn’t move. The other sylph, too, remained motionless as the snap of leather wings came again.

  Above, I saw only pine boughs, stark against the infinite blue.

  And then, just to the east, a sinuous body flitted above the trees, darkening the fragmented sky.

  I placed the last water bottle on the snowy ground. “Will one of you take me to see it?”

  Cris dithered, and the other sylph hung back awkwardly.


  “If you won’t take me, I’ll just go see it myself and possibly get lost again.” I started walking, but after only a few steps, I turned and pointed at Cris. “Don’t tell the others. I don’t want them to scold me when I’m not even getting into trouble.”

  Sullenly, the sylph trailed after me as I followed the occasional crack of wings.

  Cris sidled up next to me. -Consider yourself scolded.-

  I smirked and swatted at him, but a knot in my chest loosened a little. Whether or not he agreed with my plan, Cris still liked me. He and the other sylph stuck closer to me than my real shadow.

  At last, we came to a break in the woods, and a cliff overlooking a white valley. Trees huddled under the weight of snow, majestic and silent. Above the valley, three dragons flew.

  Their serpentine bodies slithered through the air, gliding without sound until they flapped their wings, which stretched as wide as their bodies were long. A deceptively delicate network of bones and scales shone translucent when a dragon veered and twisted toward the rising sun.

  I gasped and took a step back into the woods. The dragons were so huge. After a year, I’d forgotten how big they were. But seeing them fill the sky as they flew through the air, my heart stumbled on itself. Templedark was not far behind us. I’d seen too many dragons then, seen the way they spit acid on the fields of the agricultural quarter or tried to land atop the city wall. One had been leaning over Sam and Stef to kill them when I arrived.

  I’d almost seen a dragon kill Sam.

  My heart ached as I stared at the sky and lowered myself to my knees. I couldn’t stand anymore. I couldn’t think anymore. I could only watch as a dragon switched course and dove into the valley, its wings folded along its sides. The immense golden beast disappeared into the forest for a heartbeat, then erupted a short ways beyond with a deer in its jaws. Ice and snow and branches sprayed behind it, having been caught up in the dragon’s path.

  “Oh, Cris.” My words were hardly a breath. Just mist on the frigid air. “How am I supposed to even get close enough to one to speak to it?”