by Jodi Meadows
I nodded. “Whatever Janan is doing next, he needs the phoenix. Deborl sent Merton and the others—his best warriors—to find a phoenix and bring it Heart. We couldn’t do anything for it before because we didn’t want to ruin our chance of the poison working, but the poison is gone. Whatever Janan is doing, he’s not done yet, and we’re not dead. We can still do everything in our power to keep him from succeeding.”
Sam smiled. “Yes, we can.”
Below, the chain was threaded all around the phoenix’s cage, and people were grabbing hold of the silver links and dragging the skeletons into loops around the cage.
If Janan had said anything to them, somehow instructed them, I hadn’t heard it. “We need to get closer.”
Sam looked down the side of the building. The slope wasn’t exactly sheer, but it would be difficult to climb, especially since Sam couldn’t feel his arm. He had nerve damage. That was what Rin would have said. It would take months to heal, if it ever did.
I pressed a third bandage against his shoulder and taped them as tightly as I could. “We can’t go straight down. We don’t want them to see us.” Though it seemed unlikely anyone would. They were all staring at Janan, waiting for something.
For a moment, I entertained the idea of staying up here and shooting Janan, but I’d already seen how easily he dismissed dragons. My pistol was no match. And besides, he was immortal. What could possibly hurt him now?
I glanced beyond the city wall one last time, the heavier pyroclasts settling while the ash and lighter particles hung in the air, making Heart seem encased in darkness. Inside the city, dragons rolled and gasped, fighting the ash they’d inhaled. The exploded debris from the temple still shone with templelight, eerie and beautiful against the blackness outside.
Not far from the Councilhouse, I found what I was looking for.
“Come on.” I slung my backpack over my shoulder and helped Sam to his feet. Janan’s people were still arranging the skeletons, so we had a little time. He was immortal. He probably wasn’t in much of a rush.
Sam and I staggered across the rubble-strewn roof until we reached the northern edge.
A dragon looked up, blue eyes foggy with weakness. The ringing in my head was faint, along with Acid Breath’s voice.
Oh. When they’d dived earlier, they hadn’t been attacking Janan. They’d been going after Sam’s skeleton. If only Janan had known, he probably would have let them.
I held tight to Sam’s arm and spoke to the dragon. “Help us get down.”
“He has a phoenix down there. We’re going to save it.” Oh, such bold words.
“If we save the phoenix, it will ruin whatever plans Janan has. I thought you liked revenge.”
Acid Breath let out a long cloud of ash-choked breath, then lifted his head until his chin rested on the edge of the roof. He drew back his mouth, showing the fangs as long as my forearm.
Sam looked at me and shook his head. “I’m not holding on to that end.”
“Yes, you are. If he hurts you, I’ll shoot him in the eye.”
Acid Breath sighed.
“There, he promised.” I tried not to show my reluctance as I approached Acid Breath’s face, but my heart pounded and it seemed strange that of all the things that had happened tonight, this should scare me so much. What was one short ride in lieu of stairs?
I crouched and waited for him to part his teeth a little so I could hook my arm around the fangs. “You too.” I motioned for Sam to do the same as me. He used his good arm to brace himself, staring stoically at me as he did. I reached forward and helped steady him before telling Acid Breath we were ready.
The drop was sudden and swift, as though the dragon wasn’t used to such weights in his mouth. Which was ridiculous. I’d seen him eat a bear midair.
His chin thudded on the ground, jarring us as we landed. Sam leapt away, staggered, and leaned on the Councilhouse for support.
Dragons just couldn’t be nice.
“Thank you.” I rested my hand on Acid Breath’s snout. The scales were cool, coated with ash. He’d breathed in too much, probably burned his lungs, too. He was dying.
I nodded and left him. It was my fault he and his army were here. My fault they were dying in this city, rather than in the north, moving all the dragons to a safer location. Safer for now, anyway. The ash would rise into the upper atmosphere. It would block sunlight and smother the world.
I hoped Orrin and his group were far away.
“Let’s go.” I linked my arm with Sam’s good one and helped him around to the front of the Councilhouse and the half-moon steps. “Do you need to rest?”
He was pale and trembling, but he shook his head. “I’m fine. I can do this.”
“I know you can.” I paused halfway up the stairs and let him catch his breath. “But if you need a quick rest, I understand.” He’d lost a lot of blood.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m just upset that you’ve made me ride that dragon twice now.” He flashed a weak smile, and my heart folded up with fear and hope and anxiety. He was being so brave.
“That’s the last time, I promise. No more dragons.”
He nodded a little and started climbing the stairs again. “I’m going to hold you to that.”
I held his hand while I considered what we were doing, how unlikely it was to succeed. Did I even have a plan? It seemed like I was doing what I always did: rush in blindly with one ambitious goal.
Ruin Janan’s life by saving the phoenix.
“Maybe I can annoy him to death,” I muttered.
“I’ve never heard a plan more likely to succeed.” Sam paused as we reached the top of the stairs. “Inside, I think. We can exit through one of the side doors.”
“Good idea.” The glass on the double doors had blown out at some point, probably during the eruption. Our boots crunched the shards, and inside, we had to stop so I could pull out the biggest pieces. I didn’t want either of us to slip.
The Councilhouse was dim and silent. The air smothered our steps, and Sam’s rasping breath. We paused in a washroom to better clean Sam’s shoulder and rinse the blood and grit from our faces and mouths, but after a few long drinks of water, we hurried on. Janan wasn’t moving quickly, but there was no time to waste.
“I wish I knew what he planned on doing with the phoenix,” I muttered as we headed through the library. Then I realized how stupid I’d been. How blind.
I’d assumed we would all die in the first eruption, and that would be it. No reincarnation. Nothing. But Sarit had been right when she said Janan needed people to rule. He wouldn’t let them die.
Five thousand years ago, he hadn’t become the leader by lying to his people. He’d have needed to be strong, able to protect them. He would have kept his promises.
He’d promised to become immortal, then return to do the same for them. That didn’t mean they’d have equal power. It meant he ruled them for eternity.
I dropped to the nearest sofa and buried my face in my hands. “Sam,” I said. “Janan is going to make you immortal.”
31
VOICES
SAM COLLAPSED NEXT to me, breath heaving.
I studied him, the bloody mess of his hair, the gray pallor of his skin, and the red of injury and infection on his shoulder.
He wasn’t doing well. His body was giving out, and unless we found a medic soon, I couldn’t imagine he would recover. Sam was dying, slowly and painfully, and we both knew it.
“Are you sure?” His expression held a terrible mix of hope and despair. He didn’t want to die. No one did. And if everyone would soon be made immortal, maybe Stef and Armande and Whit and Sarit would be reborn.
But not me.
“I think so,” I whispered. “That’s why he
wanted a phoenix. That’s why he has that knife.”
“No one will do it.” Sam’s voice dropped. “No one will consume millions of newsouls to be immortal.”
I didn’t argue, but I didn’t agree. They’d let Janan consume newsouls five thousand years ago. And they’d supported Deborl over the last few months. Some of them had gone out and captured a phoenix. Whit had accused me of losing my faith in people, but was it any wonder when everyone had bowed to Janan five thousand years ago? Some had changed—some knew better now, or loved newsouls and protested because of them—but for people, the memory magic meant they never had to feel the guilt of what they’d done.
“Besides,” Sam said, “the temple is gone.”
“Maybe he figured out another way.”
“Maybe.” Sam closed his eyes. “I wouldn’t do it. You know I wouldn’t.”
“He has the skeletons out there, from your very first lifetime. You might not have a choice.”
Sam heaved himself up, swaying on his feet. “Then we have to stop him.”
“Do you have a plan?”
“Besides you annoying him to death?” He offered his hand to help me up. I took his hand, but didn’t let him bear my weight. “The cage is hooked into electric lines. Maybe that’s keeping the phoenix from fighting back, or maybe Janan needs that in order to . . . you know.”
I knew. “So we head out the library door, try to blend into the crowd, and creep through it until we find the source of the electricity.”
“That sounds good.” He released my hand and pulled up his hood. “We should hide our faces.”
I reached up and adjusted his hood, smoothing his hair off his face. “Do you know where the electricity originates? Maybe one of those small buildings we came into from the aqueduct?”
Right before Whit died.
“No, I’m not sure. I wish . . .”
He wished Stef were here. I did, too.
“We’ll find it,” I whispered. “It’s one of those buildings.”
“I’m sorry, Ana.” He touched my shoulder, not quite disguising the fact that he needed me to balance. “I’m sorry for our selfishness five thousand years ago. This isn’t what life is supposed to be like. We’re supposed to live, then die, and maybe there’s something else after, like you said. Something good. I’m sorry that we were so afraid, and that we still are.”
I hugged him. “If you hadn’t, then I’d never have known you. I’d never have heard your music. You’ve been the most important person in my life from the first notes of Phoenix Symphony. I can’t regret what let us be together.” Even if our time was short. No matter what happened next. “I love you, Dossam.” Tears blurred my eyes, and everything inside me ached as I pulled away. I wanted to tell him a hundred times. A million. I needed him to feel my love in his soul.
If only there were time.
As we headed to the door, I couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if we stayed here. If we waited long enough, would Sam be miraculously healed when Janan finished outside? Would I be allowed to stay with him, at least until the ash had dispersed and I was sent back into exile?
We’d never know.
I pushed open the library door, but instead of slipping invisibly into the crowd, we came face-to-face with Janan.
He was only a little taller than me, but he wasn’t small. He was compact. Thick arms crossed his chest, all bulging muscle in spite of millennia without moving, and his eyes were deep-set and piercing. The wild hair might have made him look comical if the rest of him didn’t scream deadly power.
I spun and started to run, but Janan reached out and snatched my arm. His fingertips dug into my skin, even through the sleeve of my coat. I tried to pull away, but his grip only tightened, and he grabbed Sam’s arm, too. The hurt one. Sam cried out as his arm wrenched out of place, but Janan’s expression remained hard and angry.
He shoved us at a pair of red-clothed guards. “Bring them.”
As hands closed over me, I struggled to free myself, but there were too many. They were too strong, in spite of the fact that they’d been through eruptions and explosions, too. Some were bloodied and gasping. That didn’t stop them.
Sam fought back, but his arm was weak and he’d lost too much blood. Someone punched him in the gut. He doubled over and hung limp in their grasps.
I kept struggling, hitting and kicking wherever I could. If I could get away, I could figure out how to free the phoenix. But when I looked out beyond my immediate attackers, all I could see were people. Thousands of them. I’d never make it through.
I slumped. My whole body ached, and my heart twisted with fear and grief as I let them drag me to the phoenix cage. Skeletons waited around the cage, same as they’d sat in the red chamber of the temple, though now they were partially draped over one another, to make room for all the bodies pressing around, everyone looking eager and anxious and afraid.
Silver chains shimmered in the glow of the rocks. The skulls were eyeless but watching. Almost a million of them. One for every person here, and for people who’d left with newsouls. None for those who’d died in Templedark, though; those were still piled in the crater left behind after the temple exploded.
Sam and I were slammed on the ground near the cage, just inside the circles of skeletons. Janan stepped inside with us, watching impassively as Sam groaned and clutched his shoulder, his face contorted with pain.
“Sam!” I tried to crawl toward him but someone hit me, knocking me back down. My elbows slammed on the cobblestones, then my head. My thoughts swam like liquid.
“So, the mistake still lives.” Janan’s voice was harsh and deep, like a canyon speaking. “You intrigue me. For millennia, I’ve been alone but for my Hallow, and then you arrived. You flew past me. My new Hallow explained your father’s poison and how you came to be. And that you’ve tried to make a place for yourself in spite of everything.”
I glared up at him.
“I would be a poor ruler if I didn’t want my people to be happy and satisfied with their lives. I find that people who are content are less likely to cause trouble, as you have been doing.”
“How can I be content when you’re eating newsouls? When you’re manipulating the memories of your people? And lying to them?” My words came ragged and worn, though they’d felt full of strength and hate when I opened my mouth.
Janan nodded. “Yes. I understand your anger. Which is why I’m going to make you an offer.”
“You have nothing I want,” I growled.
Janan stepped around me, toward the cage.
“What are you doing?” My voice didn’t carry. He acted like he didn’t hear me. I checked around me. The people who’d dragged Sam and me here were gone, back with the crowd beyond the skeletons. I wondered what they thought of the two of us being up here. Like we were favored. It was so we wouldn’t try to escape, though.
Slowly, while everyone was distracted by Janan moving alongside the cage, I slid off my backpack. Was there anything useful inside? I tried to remember what we’d packed this morning. Medical supplies. Sticky gloves and boot covers; those were still on the roof. Flute; it would be a miracle if that wasn’t broken. A small tool kit Stef had scrounged for me. The knife Sam had given me a year ago. I wanted to scoot close to him and see if he was okay, but I needed to stop Janan. Sam would understand. He’d tell me to stop Janan first.
Janan drew his knife and slipped it into the cage and the cloth-covered bundle on the floor. My heart thundered as I crept closer. Surely he wouldn’t kill it yet.
The first rope snapped under the sharp blade. Then another. Was there anything I could do? I felt paralyzed, my thoughts thick and useless.
One by one, the ropes sliced apart and the heavy black cloth fell away.
It seemed a small sun appeared before me as the phoenix rose up and screamed, powerful and polyphonic. An orange glow turned white, and tears poured down my cheeks as immense wings lifted above its head, all glory and flame and black ash raining.
<
br /> The phoenix was twice my size, with glittering plumage more beautiful than anything I’d ever seen. It had a hooked beak and great talons like a raptor, but I remembered the story from the temple books: the phoenixes hadn’t killed Janan and his warriors, because they didn’t want to end their cycle of rebirth.
Everyone gasped, and the crowd went perfectly silent as the phoenix gazed around at its captors.
I’d expected its eyes to be made of light, like every other piece of it, but when the large round eyes landed on me, they were black like moonless night. Like night if the stars had all gone out. They were deep and ancient and filled with sorrow.
Quiet rushed over the world. Even the blackness of ash outside the city seemed muted. Janan stepped onto a raised platform to address everyone.
“Five millennia ago, I searched for the key to immortality. When I was imprisoned for my knowledge, you came to free me, but I had another plan, one that would ensure we could all live eternally. Now I have returned to fulfill that promise.” Janan raised his voice. “Though I tried to protect you, I could not stop what you call Templedark or the slaughter that came that night. We’ve lost so many of our own. Nevertheless, we must begin to rebuild. As I’ve said, I want my people to be content.”
Janan turned his gaze on Sam, who pushed himself back into a sitting position. His shoulder was bleeding again, and his arm hung limp at his side. His skin was pale and shone with sweat as he edged closer to me, though his movements were slow and clumsy. He couldn’t do this much longer.
“Some,” Janan went on, “will never be content, knowing what they have lost. While I can do nothing for those fallen during Templedark, to show you I am not truly without heart, I will add one to our ranks.”
Sam looked at me. I looked at Janan. A low murmur rippled through the crowd.
“You’d make me immortal?” I asked. “Like everyone else?”
Janan nodded. “You and Dossam care for each other. You’ve fought hard to be part of this community.” He swept his arms over the crowd. “You were exiled, but that doesn’t have to be true any longer. You can live forever with your friends. With Dossam.”