Evie turned to the King.
“That was a cruel, cruel test,” she whispered hoarsely. The King nodded.
“Yes,” he admitted. “And it is a cruel power you lay claim to. I had to be sure.”
Evie wiped tears from her cheek. “And my daughter?” she asked, trembling inside. “Was she real?”
“Yes,” the King answered. “I, too, have seen her.”
“Is she safe?” Evie asked anxiously. “Will she still come to be?”
The King nodded slowly. “When the time is right. She grows clearer in my mind. I have seen her, and the wings, black as night, that she will carry at her back.”
Evie closed her eyes and swallowed down a sob. When she looked up, the King was standing, reaching down to help her to her feet.
“Now we must hurry,” he said, wrapping an arm around her waist.
“Where are you taking me?”
“To the Moon Pool. We must get you into its healing waters as quickly as possible. It has already been an hour since you drank from that cup.”
“Why?” Something about the King's expression, and the fact that Evie suddenly realized that she could not have stood without his help, made her heart freeze. “What's wrong with me? What was in that cup?”
“Poison,” the King said simply, and he pulled her from the room.
Jake
The room he shared with Molly had never felt so small. Jake paced from one side to the other, like a lion caged too long, every nerve vibrating with tension, waiting for the sound of the knob turning, or the soft padding of Molly’s feet in the hall.
The night had spun out of control in ways he never could have imagined. He had known for a long, long time that his life was a ship that was going down, fast and hard. He had only wanted to be with her, to steal a little of the sunshine that seemed to cling to the surface of her skin for himself before his time ran out. But now, for the first time, Jake realized he might carry Molly with him, down to the bottom of the sea. It scared him in ways that he didn’t know how to process, made him angry and terrified in ways that he couldn’t begin to understand. She had seemed so strong. So full of life and goodness.
It had never occurred to him that he could hurt her.
Now, he wished that he had died before he met her. He wished that the first time he had shot up, what felt like a hundred years ago, that his insides had twisted and seized, and he had died with that first, high-induced grin plastered eternally on his face.
The knob turned. Molly walked in, and Jake turned to face her, despair still raging in his heart. They stared at each other for a second, and Jake felt like there was no air in the room. Guilt and self-loathing surged like a tidal wave inside him, and for a moment he felt like he would never breathe again.
Then Molly smiled.
The expression seemed so sincere, so out of place, that Jake felt the impact of it like a physical blow to his body.
“What?” he asked, completely non-pulssed. “What is it?”
“It’s going to be okay, Jake.” Molly closed the door behind her, and walked over to him, her steps light and graceful. She sighed with relief, her eyes fluttering almost closed as the air rushed out of her. She ran a hand down his shoulder. “I talked to Andrew. We can still fix this. You’re going to be okay.”
“I . . . I don’t understand,” Jake stammered. “What are you talking about?”
“Andrew explained everything to me. Why I wasn’t able to help you as much as you need. All we need is that goblet he’s been so obsessed about. Andrew says once we have it, my voice will be strong enough to make you better.” She stood on her tiptoes, so they were exactly eye to eye. He could see the determination shining there. She looked so happy. Almost serene.
It scared him.
“I’m sorry I didn’t realize the truth sooner,” she went on. “I guess I just didn’t want to admit that you were still suffering. But now that I know, I can do something about this.” She nodded to herself, the smile fading as her expression hardened. “I can fix this.”
Cold understanding leaked through Jake’s veins. For the first time ever, he stepped away from Molly, pulling back from her touch.
“What does Andrew want you to do?” he asked, not caring that his voice sounded hard and angry. He should have known. He should have realized a long, long time ago, the game Andrew was playing. Jake had seen it a hundred times before. But Andrew was hard to read. Magic and power swirled around him, layers of distraction and deceit. But now, finally, the truth was coming to the surface.
Molly’s eyes clouded. She probably hadn’t expected Jake to step away from her, didn’t understand the coldness in his voice.
“He just needs me to help him get the goblet,” she answered, defensiveness tinting her words. “My voice can affect whole groups of people at once, and he thinks there’s a large group of guards protecting the goblet.”
Jake stood, silent. Thinking through what she had said.
“So,” he said, after a long moment, “Andrew wants you to risk your life getting this thing for him.”
“It isn’t just for him. Having it will make all the Echoes safer. And it means I’ll be able to help you. Really help you.” Molly’s hands fell to her sides. “What is it, Jake? What’s wrong?”
Jake ran his hands over his face. Anger coursed through him, and even though he wasn’t angry at Molly, he knew it was leaking through his eyes, hardening the edges of his voice. But he couldn’t stop it.
“It’s the same old shit,” he spit. “Andrew is just like any other dealer. They reel you in, nice and slow. They make out that they’re your friend. And then, once they find the right angle, they gut you. Take everything you’ve got and more. Leave you twitching on the sidewalk behind them once they’ve gotten what they want.”
Molly’s expression morphed into one of concern. “I don’t understand what you’re talking about, Jake.” She said, “Are you feeling alright? We’ve both had a really long, hard night. Maybe we should rest for a while. We can talk about this more in the morning.”
“When?” Jake demanded, “When does he want you to do this?”
“He isn’t sure exactly,” Molly shrugged. “But soon.”
“You have to tell him no,” Jake said, his voice rough. “And if you think he won’t take no for an answer, then you’ve got to run.”
“I’m not going to tell him no,” she said, her eyebrows climbing, “I want to do this Jake. I want to be able to help you for real.”
“Don’t you understand what he’s doing?” Jake cried. “Andrew doesn’t care about you, and he sure as hell doesn’t give a damn about me. I’ve always thought there was something off about that guy. He looks like a predator when he’s looking at you. There have always been things about him that just don’t add up. What’s the deal with Denise, that woman who’s like me, but never leaves his apartment? What happened to Tyler? He betrayed Andrew, and I haven’t seen him since. And now this.” Jake’s shoulders fell. His voice softened. “Can’t you see that he’s using you?” he asked, his voice almost pleading. “He has something he wants and he needs you to get it. It’s as simple as that.”
Molly’s eyes had hardened as Jake spoke. “Maybe I’m the one using him.” She said, “I’m not stupid Jake. I don’t think that Andrew’s some kind of saint. But I know what I care about.” She straightened up taller, throwing her shoulders back. “I know what I’m willing to risk.”
“You’re saying that you’re willing to risk your life for me?” Jake gave a scornful laugh, “How is that anything but stupid? You can't do this, Molly!” Jake knew he was yelling, but he couldn’t stop himself. He ran his hands over the stubble on his scalp, looking around the room desperately as though searching for a way to make her listen. “You’re playing right into Andrew’s hands. I'm not worth it.”
“To me, you are,” Molly said quietly, dropping her eyes and looking at the floor. “To me, you're worth everything.”
“Fuck,” Jake whispered bitterl
y, to himself. “How the hell did we get here? How did I let it get this bad?”
He shook his head and stepped closer, grabbing Molly’s arm, pulling her a step toward him, and staring into her eyes. “Please. Molly,” he whispered. “Don't do this. Don't put yourself in danger for me. I'm begging you to stop. Keep yourself safe. Whatever path I'm on, whatever damage I've done to myself that can't be undone . . . it's my fault. It is because of decisions I've made, mistakes that are mine, and mine alone. I don't want you to pay the price for those mistakes. I want you to live, to be happy . . . even if that's a happiness we can't share.” He swallowed hard. “I love you, Molly. Please—don’t let me ruin your life.”
Tears were leaking from the corner of Molly’s eyes, and she leaned into him so that their foreheads were touching. Jake closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of her. His whole body was shaking.
“I love you, too,” Molly whispered, and the words were like a dagger to Jake’s heart. “But I know that I can do this. I'm stronger than you think.”
“No . . .” Jake started to say, but Molly leaned away from him, and something in her expression silenced him. She reached up to her shoulder, to the thick bracelet that she always wore, pulling it off slowly. He recognized the emotion that filled her eyes. Fear. Uncertainty.
“You've never asked me about my tattoo,” her voice shook a little as the bracelet slid from her fingers and fell to the floor. She reached out and took his hand in hers, lifting his fingers and spreading them across the skin on her shoulder.
Confused, Jake gazed at the ornate skeleton key tattoo that covered Molly's shoulder.
He felt deep ridges in her skin. Long lines of puckered flesh.
“What . . .” Jake murmured, confused.
Wordlessly, Molly guided his fingers up and down her shoulder. For the first time, Jake saw the disfiguring scars that even the expert tattoo couldn’t quite mask.
He looked up at her, not quite able to ask.
“He liked to hurt me,” Molly whispered. She shrugged, as though disarming the tremble in her voice and the marks on her arm. “It was a long time ago.”
Jake shook his head, his fingers gently stroking the wounds that would never fully heal.
“I didn't know,” he said softly.
Molly pursed her lips. “I don't talk about it. There really isn't anything to say. When I was going through that . . . during that period in my life . . . I wasn’t sure I could survive it. And even after I did, I was sure that I was so torn up, inside and out, that I couldn't ever be happy again.” Molly took a deep breath. “I was wrong. I healed. And I found that I could be a version of myself that I had never dreamed of before. All those terrible things in my past . . . they were like a key to a door that had to open. In the end, they made me stronger than I had been before. They made me who I am.” She lay a soft hand against Jake's flushed cheek. “I can do this, Jake. I am going to save you. I love you . . . I think I've loved you since the first time you came to watch me sing. You're worth the risk, Jake. To me . . . you're worth everything.”
She leaned in and kissed him, and Jake kissed back helplessly.
In his heart, he knew there was nothing more he could say.
Molly
Eventually, Jake slept. Molly lay awake, watching him, her fingers linked with his, relishing the warmth of his body.
And she thought.
Jake had been sure that he hadn’t gotten through to her. She had seen the despair in his eyes. Even now, while he slept, she could still see the tension on his face.
But she had heard every word he’d said. And now, with the room quite dark, she forced herself to think things through.
How much did she really know about Andrew? Matt and Thia and the rest of the Echoes all worshiped the ground he walked on. Molly had been suspicious of him at first but, gradually, he had won her over. Many of the others had told her that Andrew had saved their lives, creating the Refuge, and bringing them to safety before the Legacies could hunt them down. But, now that she examined her memories more closely, she remembered hesitation in Evie’s voice when Andrew’s name came up.
It might be true that Andrew was using her. Molly wasn’t sure that bothered her much—as long as she could still get access to the power that could cure Jake. But what if Andrew was lying? Almost everything she knew about this goblet were things that Andrew had told her. What if the goblet could only strengthen one person, and he used it for himself? What if it had some other power completely, and Andrew had just told her what he thought she’d want to hear? She was willing to risk her life for Jake. But she wasn’t willing to take that risk on Andrew’s word alone.
She had to be sure.
Moving carefully, so that she wouldn’t wake him, Molly untangled herself from Jake’s embrace. He moaned softly in his sleep as she left him, but rolled over onto his side without opening his eyes. Molly leaned over and picked her bracelet up from the floor, carefully pulling it back onto her arm. Then she cracked the door open and slipped out into the hall.
Swiftly, she headed straight for Andrew’s rooms. She would have to confront him. Demand that he show her proof that what he had told her was true.
When she heard his voice coming toward her, it was pure instinct to step into a darkened corner. Andrew’s voice boomed as he and several other Echoes swept down the hall. They walked right past her, and Molly held her breath until they were out of sight.
After only a moment’s hesitation, she resumed her course, moving faster, and glancing over her shoulder as she went. Searching Andrew’s rooms was riskier. She wasn’t sure what would happen if she was discovered. But it was also a much better way to find out the truth.
She just had to hurry.
The door to his rooms was unlocked, and Molly slipped inside, grateful that the hall was empty.
Once inside, she stood uncertainly for a moment. The room looked exactly as it had the last time she had been in it. The fire still burned in the corner, filling the room with a flickering, orange glow. Maps and papers were strewn everywhere. The walls were covered in sketches of the goblet, that seemed to haunt Andrew’s dreams, as well as his every waking moment.
Molly saw a thick leather journal laying on Andrew’s desktop. She rushed over to it. The pages were worn with use, page after page filled with thick, scribbled notes. She leaned close to it, flipping through the pages feverishly, her heart beating fast.
The notes were clearly intended just for his own use because much of it was little more than gibberish to her. Sentence fragments and words that seemed insignificant underlined repeatedly followed by thick exclamation points drawn with a heavy hand. Most of it, she realized after a moment, had been written some time ago, when Andrew was still searching for the cup. She turned the pages rapidly, pausing as she got closer to the back.
“The goblet is the key to everything,” Andrew had written, and Molly’s breath caught in her throat. “It will remove the limits of our power, strengthening our voices beyond what we can even imagine now. It will make us as powerful as the Sirens, draining them of power and bestowing it on us. Weakening the Sirens so severely that they cannot even hope to take revenge on us once their power has become our own. The Life-Blood Goblet is our future. And it is nearly in our hands.”
Molly drew in a long shaky breath. It was true then. The goblet would do what Andrew had promised. It would give her a way to save Jake.
On the opposite page, Andrew had drawn yet another sketch of the goblet and, in dark, thick letters above it, he had scrawled the words, “For Denise.” That was curious. Denise was fully human, like Jake. Could it be Andrew hoped that if he had the goblet, some of its power could be given even to those who had no Siren blood at all?
A sound interrupted her, and Molly froze, hardly daring to move. The sound came from the doors leading to the rest of Andrew’s chambers, where she had never been. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up as the sound came again; a high-pitched, mewling sound, like the whine of a woun
ded animal.
In the perfect silence of Andrew’s study, with nothing but the faint crackle of the fire and the sound of her own heart beating in her chest, Molly waited, dread building in her heart. There was something so very wrong about that sound.
It came again, and before she could even think through what her decision meant, or what the consequences might be, Molly strode forward. Seizing the doorknob, she threw open the door and stepped into a narrow, darkened hallway lined with closed doors.
It wasn’t hard to tell where the sound was coming from. Molly felt the pull toward the last door in the hallway, the need to know so strong she felt that she practically drifted over the floor, pulled the door open, and stepped inside.
The room was dimly lit, and in the moment it took her eyes to adjust, the smell hit her first: sweat, filth, and stale air.
Then she saw him.
The bars had been embedded deep in the concrete. They threw dark, thick shadows onto Tyler’s huddled, naked form.
Disbelief was like a cool hand on Molly’s forehead, and she stood, her mind refusing to process what she saw.
The last time she had seen Tyler had been on the night that he betrayed Andrew and the rest of the Echoes to Steele. That night, he had taken Jake and nearly beat him to death. She had attacked Tyler then, almost killing him herself. But she never, in a million years, would have wished on her worst enemy what had been done to this man.
His body was covered with bruises and dried blood. His eyes were wide, as he pressed himself against the far wall of his cell, staring at Molly with mindless terror.
“T … Tyler?” she asked, her voice shaking. She could hardly believe it was him. Tyler stared at her hard for a moment, then opened his mouth, as though to respond.
A sudden wave of shock made Molly’s vision swim, and she reached out a hand to steady herself against the wall.
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