The Effigy line. But he spoke only of Alice. Maybe she was the only one, the only Effigy whispering and plotting in his head.
“Each of us has our curse. You and your fire. And her.” He jerked his head at Belle, now limp in her binds. “The span of my life is just one part of mine. I couldn’t even die with her.”
His tilted his head away from me, and for a moment his long hair veiled his expression.
“I’ll ask again.” It took every bit of control I had to keep my voice calm. “What do you want from me? Why do you need me to find Marian?”
“Because she knows where it is.” He drew me in close, and I had to crane my neck to look up at him. “The rest of the stone from which these rings were made.”
He lifted his left hand. I saw the ring shining there, its pearl stone glinting in the starlight. Sibyl had told us the ring was safe, and maybe she had even believed it. Just as Saul couldn’t have escaped from the London facility by himself, he couldn’t have gotten the ring back either. Not without help. My hunch was right, not that it mattered much now.
“That’s what Alice believes, anyway. It’s her hypothesis. But we need Marian to confirm it.”
“So you’re working with Alice.” I laughed coldly. “And here I thought you were a bit less of an asshole than she was.”
“I’m not her,” he hissed quickly. “I’m not. It’s just that we have the same goal.”
“Which is?”
Saul’s face softened in the question’s wake, his lips parting as he eased into the anguish that had suddenly taken him. “A wish,” he whispered. “It’s all for a wish.”
I remembered. He’d asked me before, in Argentina. . . . No, it was Alice who’d asked as she’d pinned me against the window with Nick’s body.
Maia, isn’t there something you want more than anything?
“It’s the ring, Maia,” said Saul, very quietly. “The ring will grant my wish.”
“No way,” I whispered, shaking my head. “It’s not possible.”
“Look around you,” he said. “A lot of things are possible in this terrible world we live in.”
“A wish. The ring can grant wishes.” My head was spinning.
“The stone. I don’t know all of the details. Alice keeps many things hidden away from me. But we both want the same thing. We both have something we desperately wish for. But this ring isn’t enough. I need the rest of the stone.”
“I don’t understand. You’re crazy.” I trembled. “You’re crazy, Saul!”
“Call me Nick,” he pleaded. “My name is Nick.” A sob escaped his lips. “Please.”
“Who the hell do you think you are, asking something from me? You killed them. Not her. Not Alice. You!” I looked back at the train still captive under the weight of Saul’s monsters. “You!”
“I have no choice but to kill.” His face hardened. “They had to die. Otherwise, how can it grant my wish?”
When my gaze shifted to the ring again, my eyes widened, then narrowed. “No.”
“The ring controls phantoms. The more people we sacrifice to them, the more potent the ring becomes. The more powerful.”
Death powered the stone. The realization was almost too much to handle.
Now that I thought of it, the ring’s stone wasn’t as white as it was before. The swirl of darkness inside had flowered, filling more space since the time I’d seen it last.
“All those cities,” I whispered. “All those people you murdered. To what? Juice up your ring so you can get . . . your wish granted?”
His face creased into an ugly grimace. “Everyone has one. Or are you trying to tell me you don’t?”
I didn’t want to think of them, but when I closed my eyes I could see my family’s faces so clearly my teeth clenched from the pain of it.
“Everyone does. Myself. Alice. The difference between Alice’s wish and mine is that mine won’t break apart the world. If I can make mine first—”
“You’d still be a selfish asshole.”
“But at least I’d have Marian by my side.”
The name sounded dark and lonesome on his tongue.
“That’s it?” The words were hoarse in my throat. “You just want your girlfriend back?”
“No, that’s not all.” Saul raised his hand. “I could just as easily have brought Marian back with this. It has more than enough power.” He turned it over. “After all, parts of Marian are inside of you. To come back, all she needs to do is take your body, the way Alice took mine. I could use the ring to draw her from the depths of you, to force her to the forefront of your mind. But it would be a waste. My wish is bigger than this. And you can call her on your own.”
He twisted my arm back, forcing me to my knees. Pain shot through my body, searing my nerves. I cried out as Saul leaned in from behind me. “I don’t need Marian to take your body, not yet. I just want you to find her, to ask her where the rest of the stone is. Do it. Do it quickly.”
“I can’t.” I downed the air in shuddering gasps.
“Do it now.”
“I—I have to be calm. I have to be calm. At peace . . .”
“Do it, Maia. Find Marian. Do it, or I swear to the heavens I will have them all killed.”
My head snapped up. The train. They were all still inside. The passengers, Lake and Chae Rin, and Rhys. My eyes swelled with tears. He was still hurt badly, his chest drowning in blood because of me. Because he risked his own life to protect me.
I tasted the tears on my lips, sucking in drops as I rasped. This wasn’t fair. None of this was fair, and I wished none of it had happened. I just wanted to go home.
But I didn’t have a choice.
“Okay.” I set my teeth, my hair spilling over my face. “Just give me time.”
He let me go. “Normally, time would be the one thing I have.”
I tried my best to silence my jackhammering heart, but to do it I had to forget everything and everyone. There wasn’t any room for error. If I didn’t calm myself, didn’t find that place deep within myself the way Belle’d taught me to, I’d never see any of them again. How much blood was on my hands already?
Blood. My heart gave a jolt, but I banished the pain. The fear, too. Like a sharp vine, it crept up my insides, threatening me, but I couldn’t let it take me. Not this time. Clenching my teeth, I forced it away too.
How would I even reach Marian? The consciousness of the last Effigy was always the freshest. The rest were tangled together in knots, according to Belle. How could I find the one I needed?
Closing my eyes, I squeezed my hands into fists against my lap and shut everything out. Everything but the hardness of the ground against my knees. I inhaled deeply. Once, twice. Again. Again.
Please, I begged them, the girls who’d left shards of themselves inside me. Help me.
• • •
Belle was right. I had been here before. I remembered the white stream, the heavy mist blanketing the world around me.
And the door. The farther I walked through the thick fog, the clearer it became. Red, just as Belle had said. Connected to nothing, it stood upright on its own.
The stream reached just past my ankles, but it wasn’t cold. Belle had gotten that part wrong, or maybe she’d just experienced it differently. For me it was burning hot. Though I expected it to scorch my skin, it didn’t hurt at all. The heat became part of me, rising through my legs, warming my body. I could breathe again. The pain in my limbs and joints had vanished too. If only I could hide in this strange place forever.
I trudged through the crystal white waters, the door looming larger with each step. It was magnificent. It belonged in a palace with its golden rims, its woodwork crafted as if for kings.
And like the door to a palace, it was guarded.
“Natalya . . .”
I knew Natalya was tall, but now, as I stood in front of her, the legendary Effigy towered above me. Yes, this was Natalya. Too many times had I seen those eyes, always fierce, always proud, whether in t
he heat of battle or in the middle of an interview. Her black hair, cut close to her skull, still fluttered from whatever breeze passed through this place. And in her scar-covered hands was the broadsword she’d made famous during her years with the Sect. The edge of its blade disappeared into the white stream as she gripped it proudly.
The beautiful and noble soldier Natalya Filipova.
But she was not the one I was looking for.
“We meet at last.”
Natalya’s voice shook me to the core. Every word she spoke swelled with the contours of her Russian accent, still prominent despite her perfect English.
Every word she spoke.
Natalya Filipova was speaking.
Speaking to me.
My body went rigid as fear suddenly gripped me.
“Don’t be afraid.” Natalya’s tone was soft despite its strength. “I know why you’re here. I’ve seen everything. Through you.”
I wrapped my arms around myself. The very idea that parts of Natalya, and parts of so many other girls, were living on inside me made me feel so alien, as if fate had snatched my humanity from me the day it called me to be an Effigy.
Maybe it had.
“You know who Marian is, right?” If I had more time, I’d have made sure my first words to Natalya were more meaningful, full of praise and respect.
“No. Not fully. I . . . I died before I could discover everything.”
I was so used to seeing Natalya strong, but now the Effigy’s lips curled into something probably meant to be a snarl before she thought better of it. Natalya looked truly crestfallen as she lowered her head, peering at her own reflection in the stream.
The pain was still fresh. The pain of dying.
“Natalya . . . how did you die?”
I hadn’t meant to ask, but the moment I did, Natalya’s eyes were on me.
“Are you sure you want to know?” There was something wild in her eyes, something hidden, even with the rest of her calm. “But then, it would help, wouldn’t it?” Natalya nodded. “Yes, it would help you. To get to Marian, you’ll need to see it, after all. You’ll need to see all our most difficult memories.”
Our. The Effigies’. Despite the heat, I shivered.
“I can show you my death.” Natalya’s hands tightened around the round pommel of her sword. “In fact, I want to show you. You should know what happened.”
The corner of Natalya’s lips crept up into the faintest of smiles. She was smiling at me. And yet I stepped back, my hands cold. Why? Why was it so unsettling? There was something Natalya wasn’t telling me, something screaming in the silence.
“Are you prepared to watch me die, Maia Finley?”
My knees buckled beneath the overbearing weight of Natalya’s expectant stare. I knew I couldn’t say no.
“Show me.”
Natalya stepped aside. The door crept open on its own.
• • •
It was dark. My eyes couldn’t adjust at first. But once they did, I could see the armchair. . . . Yes, I could see Natalya’s armchair this time. It wasn’t like before. This time, I stood across the living room of Natalya’s apartment inside my own body. Not only could I see the armchair, I could see Natalya in it. The pop art on the wall. The scotch-filled decanter on the table, red lipstick staining the rims of glasses. The bottles of alcohol. All of it Natalya’s.
I saw everything clearly this time. I could see Natalya’s hand clasping her throat, her lips sputtering, but the words unable to form.
No. I didn’t want to see it after all. Now that Natalya’s body was crumpling to the floor, now that she was clawing at the rug in a desperate attempt to stay alive, I couldn’t bear to see her die. Covering my eyes with a whimper, I turned.
“I’m sorry,” came the voice from across the room. The voice that stopped my heart. “I’m so sorry.”
The ticking seconds slowed until they faded from existence entirely. My arms fell limp at my sides. Don’t turn around, I ordered myself, tears stinging my eyes. Don’t you do it. But my legs were shifting rebelliously from under me.
I didn’t want to see. I couldn’t tell if the desperate breaths I heard were mine or Natalya’s, but it didn’t matter. My body would give out soon. I knew it. My legs would crumple the moment I turned, the moment I turned and—
And saw Rhys standing over Natalya.
I fell back and hit my head against the table, the pain sharply real. But it couldn’t be. Nothing about this horrific memory could be real.
It was a lie.
Natalya was lying to me.
Natalya was lying; she was trying to trick me!
That must have been the hidden meaning behind her smile. Yeah. That must have been it! That vile . . . that sickening . . . How could she? How could . . . ?
The gasps and the wails were definitely mine. I cried the way I hadn’t in so long, my hands wrapped around myself as I shook on the floor.
“No! No, no!” I covered my ears to block out Rhys’s repeated apologies. It was all a lie, all a lie. “You’re lying to me!” I was on my knees. “You’re lying to me! Natalya! Where are you? I said, where are you? Why are you lying to me? Answer me!”
And then Natalya was in front of me. I could only see her grim face in front of mine.
“It’s over,” my hero said before my mind shattered.
I OPENED MY EYES. MY hands. I stared at them, opening and closing my fingers as if for the first time. This new flesh . . . like a freshly pressed blanket, it enveloped me with love. This curling hair, this shade of skin, these shorter legs that had yet to be trained. Fascinating. Truly. I took it in.
And then I stood.
“Did you find her?” A voice. Which voice? “Maia, did you find Marian?”
I turned. Ah, yes, I’d seen him before. The man they’d called a terror. The man who’d brought cities to their knees. I recognized his high cheekbones first, the delicate lashes, the hard jaw and thin lips, the impossible silver locks framing his face.
Saul.
I remembered, but it was the girl behind him that drew my attention: Belle. Like a rag doll in a child’s hand, she dangled helplessly, held in place by many long, spindly limbs. A phantom, most likely. Belle had been caught.
How disappointing.
I went to free her anyway.
“Wait!” Saul. He was persistent. Out of the corner of my vision, I could see his wide eyes narrowing as I passed by without a word. “I said wait.” He grabbed my wrist. “I asked you a question.”
I stayed silent.
“Did you find Marian? What did she tell you?” He tightened his grip, the desperation in his voice so laughably, pathetically clear. “Please. What did she tell you?”
Swiftly, I pulled my arm out of his grip and grabbed his wrist instead.
Then I broke it.
He cried out in pain like the child he was as I grabbed the collar of his shirt and pushed him back. He flew through the air, but I’d already turned before I could see him land. I heard the crash instead.
Strange. My movements weren’t as quick as I’d expected. Then again, I hadn’t had a body for such a long time, and this body was so woefully weak. So much potential buried inside it, and the girl had barely managed to pick at the surface. It was regrettable, but Maia had been given her chance. I would simply have to train it myself.
Belle lifted her head, the pain of it apparent on her face, and looked at me with narrowed, wondering eyes. She must have already noticed the change in the way the girl carried herself, the newfound strength in her stride. But there would be time to explain things later.
I held out my hand and flames came with it. Belle’s eyes widened from beyond the haze of the flicking fires as the sword’s hilt materialized in my grip. A new grip, but the same sword. My sword.
Its name passed silently from Belle’s lips.
Zhar-Ptitsa.
I ran through the flames. A few swift cuts was all it took to free Belle, the remains of flesh and bone falling to the gr
ound like I’d seen so many times before. But I knew it wouldn’t be that simple.
As expected, the ground rumbled beneath us.
Pushing Belle out of harm’s way, I jumped back just in time for the phantom to burst from the ground, infuriated. I readied my sword, flipping it into position. I could have simply burned it away, but it had been too long. I needed the practice.
The phantom reminded me of an octopus, its monstrous jaws snapping as it waddled toward me with the limbs it had left. It took only a few seconds. Aiming for its head, I planted a foot in the wide gap between his sharp teeth and, boosting myself up, slit its skull before it could snap its jaw shut. As I landed lightly on the ground, it slumped to the side behind me, its head split in two.
Both Belle and Saul stared at me, one in amazement, the other in fury.
“Who are you?” Belle limped toward me, clutching her side. “Why . . . why do you have that sword?”
She already knew the answer. It was there in her tear-filled blue eyes. Yes, Belle, trust your intuition.
Still, for now, I ignored her. There was a train in the distance. Phantoms had petrified around it, their flesh hardening into something bone and crystal. I needed to free the passengers before I could attend to anything else. Belle looked too weak to fight, so it would have to be me. I would use my flames, but how should I engage the phantoms without harming the hostages?
It was Saul who solved the query for me. Blood dripped from his hand as he tightened a fist, and with a flick of his head the hard casing around the phantoms’ long, snakelike bodies crumbled like a shedding second skin. They barreled toward me.
“You’re not thinking,” I said in a voice too young and innocent for me to ever get used to. “You still need me to find your Marian, don’t you?”
Indeed Saul wasn’t thinking. His lips pulled up over his clenched teeth as the phantoms zipped by him, one after another.
I burned one of them, setting its body aflame and rolling out of the way as it zipped by me, howling. I cut off the head of another, jumping atop its torso and riding it as it crashed to the ground. Then I ran for the others.
“This can’t be possible!” Saul yelled as four remaining phantoms converged on me at once. “Stop!” His wails drifted atop the shrieks of phantoms as I set fire to their rotted hearts. “I said stop!”
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