First, Become Ashes

by K. M. Szpara

  I try to run, but stumble. Find my footing, but I’m becoming light-headed, and the blood—I loosen my hold to assess the wound, but it’s too much. I stagger. Force my feet forward, one in front of the other. Faster, Lark. I’ve bled in combat before, but only in practice. Never against a true opponent. Never someone who’s trying to kill me.

  I fix my sight on the weak spot in the fence. Calvin stands on the other side, having already crossed through. He’s waving me on, looking between me and the car, which I can barely hear Lilian start over the buzzing. The bang still echoes in my head.

  I cross through the same broken wards in the fence as before, eyes closed this time, as I hold on to the iron pickets—try to hold myself together.

  “Jesus, are you okay?” Before I can tell him I’m fine, Calvin slides his arm around me, taking most of my weight as I stumble over a patch of sprawling roots. “You’re bleeding.”

  He grabs my arm, and I wince. For a fleeting second, I’m grateful for the pain. Maybe it’ll recharge some of my power, after I put so much of myself into stopping the FOE. It did work—at least partially. Outsider weapons are harder to defend against than I thought.

  As Calvin and I slide into the back seat—as he slams the door—I watch Miller slam into the fence, searching for a way through. Kane isn’t far behind. Kane. It’s almost more painful to lose him a second time. And even more important that I see my quest through.

  Shouts follow us as Lilian peels away from Druid Hill. Another bang! I don’t look—none of us looks, as the car speeds up the street and swerves onto the main road.

  “What the hell happened back there?” Lilian asks. “Who was that? And why were they shooting at us?”

  “That was a FOE—ow!” I gasp as pain shoots through my arm.

  Calvin shifts away from me. “Sorry, sorry,” he says. “What do we—I don’t know what to do.” He seems to be talking to himself, which is not useful. If another Anointed were here, they would heal me. Care for me.

  “Oh my god, is he bleeding?” Lilian shouts.

  My ears fizzle painfully again. “Can you please not be so loud? My ears hurt.”

  “I’m more concerned about the blood!”

  “He’ll be worse than bleeding if you don’t look where you’re going!” Calvin tells her.

  The car jolts sideways, and I open my eyes. Lilian repositions her hands on the wheel, muscles tense in her fingers. “Sorry, I’m not used to driving your car, but I can do this. The nearest hospital is—”

  “No,” I say with as much authority as I can muster. “Outsiders can’t help me. They don’t know how to treat Anointed Ones. And they all wear uniforms.”

  “What’s wrong with uniforms?” Lilian asks, half looking at me, half at the road. We swerve again. Sirens sound—close enough that we can hear them, but not so close that I’m worried. Even if the FOE chased us, she was on foot. We have the advantage as long as Lilian doesn’t drive us to an outsider hospital.

  “Outsiders wear uniforms to project authority—enforce outsider rules. They follow the bidding of monsters. They’re FOEs.” A wave of dizziness hits me; I sway between Calvin’s body and the window as gray specks fall like snow across my field of vision. “I can deal with this on my own. Let’s just get out of here.”

  The car stops, and Lilian looks at Calvin again. At me.

  A surge of hot pain slices up my arm and through my shoulder. “Do you want them to catch us?” I ask through gritted teeth.

  “It’s a red light.” She nods toward a hunk of yellow metal hanging from a thin wire over the street. On its face, two blank circles and one bright red. “That means stop.”

  “Do you think the FOE will stop for a red light?”

  “N-no? But I can’t just—” She looks left and right. Curls her pink pointed nails into the wheel.

  “No one’s coming, Lil, just go,” Calvin says.

  “But—” The siren cuts her off. It’s close enough to worry now.

  “You heard him.” His eyes meet hers in the overhead mirror, and I feel their unspoken bond. “Please, this is important.”

  The car lurches forward through the intersection. Lilian drives for several minutes, hands tense, eyes forward. She doesn’t look into the mirror at us again. “Where do you want us to go?” Calvin asks, when we can no longer hear the siren.

  “Um.” Truthfully, I’ve never left Druid Hill before this week. In the month leading up to his quest, Kane took one-on-one lessons with Nova, plotting his journey, but I never got that far. I have no idea how to pick a monster to hunt, or how to track it once I do. How to kill one when I reach it. All I know is I need someplace quiet and safe where I can heal and recharge my magic.

  I’m going to have to ask one of them for help. The thought brings a flush to my face so hot, it feels like I was shot there too.

  “West. Go west,” I say, because I know we’re on the East Coast. I want to get as far as possible from the FOEs that destroyed my home. Monsters are everywhere. If it were my quarter century, I wouldn’t hesitate to track them across the country, but after facing only one FOE, I’m not certain I’d succeed.

  I readjust my grip on my arm and a stream of dark red blood blooms down the length of the white shirt Calvin loaned me. The one with the yellow mouse-looking creature on the front, with a tail like a lightning bolt. It’s kind of cute, actually, and I don’t want to see it ruined. But I don’t tell him that. I can’t enjoy outsider artifice. That’s what leads to corruption.

  “I know you’re going to heal yourself later, but please…” Calvin reaches toward my injured arm. “Let me help you with that. We can at least stop the bleeding.”

  I don’t hesitate as long as I should. Every time I move my arm, the pain sears through me, and I doubt we’re anywhere near stopping. “Okay,” I say, offering my arm to him.

  “I’m not, like, a medical professional or anything, but I’ve watched enough action movies to know that pressure helps.” He sticks his arm elbow-deep into his backpack and feels around, eventually pulling out a red bandana. “Woody cosplay.” He smiles sheepishly as he shrugs. Neither word means anything to me.

  Gently, he pushes the sleeve up until it reaches where I’ve clamped my hand against the wound. “It’s from an animated movie about—”

  “Wood?” I grit my teeth, hold my breath, and release my grip. Instantly, blood begins flowing, my heart pounding. I hear it like a strong wind in my ears.

  “No.” Calvin chuckles. “Toys.”

  Toys are nonsense distractions, but I don’t say it. Doesn’t seem right to insult something that’s got him smiling. I rest my head back against the seat and cede control to Calvin. I’ve already accepted his help, his clothes, a ride in his car, so what’s a bandage count for in the grand scheme of things? It’s impossible to save the world from behind a big iron fence.

  “Yeah.” His laugh is breathy and hot. “But really it’s about chosen family and what’s real.” With a hard pull, he secures the bandana over my wound; I wince but manage not to yank my arm away.

  Calvin keeps going on about the movie, but I can’t concentrate. It’s not like I can’t handle pain, but this injury is outside my control. A FOE’s bullet pierced my body. My enemy’s weapon working inside me, tearing my muscle or poisoning my blood. Our blood—the blood of those Anointed—is lethal to monsters. That’s why they try to kill us from afar. But as Calvin works and talks, the pain dulls. Maybe, we beat the FOE Miller’s toxin.

  “You’d like it,” Calvin says as he ties off the bandana. “All done.”

  I glance down at his handiwork and cradle my arm so that it doesn’t shake every time Lilian hits a bump in the road. “Maybe.” I don’t tell him I’ve never watched a movie in my life, and never plan to. Outsider propaganda beaming right into my body, corrupting me? Not if I killed every monster in the world.

  “Can I ask”—Calvin lowers his voice—“was that Kane? The one on the path.”

  I don’t answer right away. The car hu
gs a tight curve before emerging onto the widest stretch of road I’ve ever seen. Four lanes wide on each side. Dozens—no, hundreds of cars speeding past and alongside us. Nothing I trained for prepared me to see this.

  “Yes.” Really, it’s none of his business, but I suppose if he’s going to help, he should have at least the basic information. I rest my cheek against the cold glass window and take comfort in seeing that the autumn leaves are just as beautiful outside the fence. “But he made his choice.”

  My eyes grow heavy. And while I’m glad I’m not alone, I ache. Kane should be beside me. Zadie and Maeve in the front seat. Four bodies full of magic and a tank full of gas. I crack the window and fall asleep with the breeze nipping at the hairs loosed from my braids.

  14

  DERYN / NOW

  I stand near the entrance to the commune like an abandoned doll. I came here to help Agent Miller, but, of course, she and Kane ran off the second she saw Lark. After a shinier toy. I shift my weight, not leaving the place they left me—I could if I wanted to. This was my home too. I know its paths and places. I’m not a prisoner; I can go. But, where?

  I stuff my hands into the pockets of the coat one of the social workers gave me. It’s purple and shiny and the material whirrs when I scrape my nails over it. Kane didn’t want one. Too bulky, he’d said, too hot. But I thought it was nice to have options, to style myself in something besides muted earth tones.

  Ten minutes pass before he appears over the hill, alone. Mouth a taut line, forehead furrowed. Hands balled into fists, he storms down the path toward me, looking into the distance at Miller’s car, as if he’s going to drive off on his own.

  “What happened?” I ask when he’s within earshot. Still, he doesn’t look at me. It’s odd even talking to him. Fellows and Anointed rarely cross paths, and then only during rituals and meals. Since we crossed the fence, I’ve had to work myself up every time I wanted to speak to him. How ridiculous. He’s no better than me—even he doesn’t think so anymore.

  “Kane.” I turn my body to follow him as he nears. “Kane, where’d Lark—”

  When I use Lark’s name he sees me. As if, until then, I was a tree to walk around. “She shot him.”

  I raise my eyebrows. “Miller shot him? With what?” My words are breathy with … hope? I feel the curl in my lips. A smile? I know Miller didn’t kill Lark, or Kane wouldn’t be throwing a tantrum. He’d be sobbing on the ground, inconsolable. He’d wail like the sirens that sound outside the fence.

  “With a gun.” Kane stops when he reaches me, as Miller comes jogging over the hill. Her suit jacket is unbuttoned, gun visible in its holster, hair falling out of its sleek hold.

  “Where?” I ask, but my question is lost to Miller’s arrival. It’s probably for the best. I force my lips into a straight line, mimicking Kane’s anger.

  Miller doesn’t slow. She digs her keys from her pocket and barrels toward the car. “Get in.”

  But Kane doesn’t move, so I don’t either. I stand off to the side like one of the teachers supervising recreation. I watch and wait for him to combust. For Miller to react. She holds the door open and looks between us—as if I have any stake in what just happened. I don’t care about Lark. I’ve tried to be his sibling numerous times, and he’s reminded me consistently that I am not. That he’s Anointed and I’m a Fellow. He’s someone and I’m no one.

  “Let’s get you two back to the hotel,” Miller says. “I’ll send out a team to pick up Lark.”

  Kane doesn’t move. He pinches his fingers together and punctuates his words. “You shot him.”

  “Why are we still arguing over this?” Annoyance threads her voice. “I wasn’t aiming for anything vital. The situation would be under control right now, if you hadn’t grabbed at my gun.”

  An Anointed charging in to save the day and fucking things up. I roll my eyes.

  “You shouldn’t even have been pointing it.” He scowls.

  “Look,” Miller says, waving him off. “We’ll get Lark medical help, as soon as they bring him in.”

  “Absolutely not,” Kane says. “You think I’m going to let you call more outsiders with guns? We need to go get him ourselves.”

  Miller already has her phone out. A ring emanates from its speaker. “I’m calling for backup. You can come back to the hotel with us or not.”

  Riiing.

  Kane shrugs.

  Riiing.

  “I can testify or not.” He stares at Miller. Challenges her.

  My heart is in my damn throat, and I’m choking on it. I’ve only ever seen Kane prostrate himself before authority, but we can object now. Can make choices outside what’s handed to us.

  I take a chance. “I’ll testify. Let’s go back to the hotel. We don’t need Kane—or Lark.”

  Miller doesn’t even look at me. She holds Kane’s gaze. “You’re really going to risk Nova going free?”

  “Yes,” he says. “If it means Lark’s safe. You just shot him! I can’t imagine what a bunch of agents will do.”

  “They’ll take him to the hospital, and then bring him back to the hotel.”

  Kane crosses his arms. Looks at his feet. Why is Miller even allowing this to drag out? “Lark can take care of himself,” he finally mumbles. “Better than outsiders would.”

  “Hello?” a tinny voice says from Miller’s phone. “Miller, can you hear me?”

  She holds the phone in front of her face, not speaking, not looking at it. She bites her lip. “False alarm, ma’am. I’ll contact you with any updates.”

  The person in the phone sighs. “Thank you, Agent.”

  Miller pockets the phone and strolls toward Kane, eyes trailing up his body, sizing him up. I can’t decide who I want to win. I hate that, even on the outside, an Anointed One gets all the attention, holds all the power. But I need Miller to need us. Need me.

  “You don’t need Kane.” I step between them. “I can testify for you. I can even help your team track down Lark—he’s my brother.” That doesn’t feel like much. But what is real? If there was never magic, what does Kane have that I don’t?

  Miller looks between us. Doesn’t even look at me when she says, “No. I need Kane’s testimony, if not Lark’s.”

  “But, why? I told you, I was Anointed as a child; it clearly doesn’t mean anything.”

  Kane rolls his eyes. “It means everything. Just not in the way you think.” He clips his words.

  “He’s right, Deryn.” Miller’s face slackens. She shakes her head and looks at me, sympathetic for the first time. “I’m sorry.”

  “Doubt it,” I mutter.

  “I won’t call for backup—we can bring Lark home ourselves—if you agree to testify,” she tells Kane. She’s back to ignoring me, but I will stand up for myself.

  Kane works himself back up. “If Lark’s hurt—”

  “—I will make sure he gets appropriate medical attention; I would still like him to testify.” Miller smooths her loosed hairs back into place, then opens the car door. “Ride in the front with me, Deryn.”

  I perk up at the sound of my name. At the scowl that crosses Kane’s face, when he’s denied special treatment. Being Anointed doesn’t mean what it used to. They’re not special anymore. They can be wrong. They can be hurt. And I don’t feel one bit sorry that the thought warms me inside.

  * * *

  We drive in the big car-truck that Miller calls a sport-utility vehicle. Not that we’re playing sports. But it’s shiny, black, and fast, and from the front seat I can see everything. Over other cars, through traffic. I wish I could enjoy the advantage, but my stomach tightens as I try to dredge up any knowledge about Lark and the Anointed. I don’t want Kane to be right—I don’t want Miller to need him. The Anointed were and are in no way better than me. If I can help her, she’ll see that.

  I count the things I know about him. Lark rejects family—both me and the parents we share. He thinks he’s invincible, better than everyone else. He believes he needs to slay a monster th
at isn’t actually real. Probably. I scan the trees that line the highway, trees that could hide anything. If the outsiders are wrong, I’ll be glad Kane’s with us. They’re not wrong, but they could be. Anyone could be.

  I bounce my knees up and down. Try to flush everything I was taught from my brain. The world is different now. It doesn’t matter if Kane could kill a monster, because monsters aren’t real.

  Lark is hurt. That’s real. He’s on the run with two outsiders. Where would they go? Not back to the city. He had a bag of supplies from Druid Hill. He was wearing one of those harnesses. His mind is on one thing only: monsters. Nova didn’t teach us Fellows any of the details, but I know monsters are the reason the outside is corrupt.

  “So, where is he?” Miller asks, her eyes on the road. “Where would Lark have gone?”

  I feel Kane look at me, consulting. Only fifteen minutes ago, he said being Anointed was everything.

  “Well, he’s hunting a monster,” I say.

  Kane shakes his head. “No—I mean, yes. He is, but he’s hurt. He’ll—”

  “He’ll need to heal himself,” I finish, face burning. I don’t look at Kane, but I know he’s still watching me. Miller isn’t, thank goodness. Her eyes remain on the road, her jaw set.

  “Can he do that in a car?”

  I’m not sure, but I say, “No,” before Kane can. He wouldn’t have brought it up if it wasn’t relevant to Lark’s journey. I remember the ritual spaces we Fellows weren’t allowed to visit, the secluded outdoor clearings. “He’ll need to stop.”

  “Okay, good.” Miller nods, relaxing her grip on the steering wheel. “I only grazed his arm, so the injury isn’t urgent, but he might not know that. Hm.”

  I can tell she’s thinking, and I don’t have anything else to offer. Quick, Deryn. What can I—

  “He’ll also need to…” Kane trails off. What’s he going to say? I try not to look at him. To focus forward as if Miller and I are on the same level. “He’ll need to recharge his magic.”