Moribund

by Genevieve Iseult Eldredge

  Her text comes back immediately, like it crossed mine in cyberspace. Meet me at apartment.

  My fingers fly over the phone. Kk.

  A moment later, her answer comes. C u soon.

  A shiver spikes my spine. That doesn’t sound like Euphoria. She relentlessly spells out everything in text. My tired brain goes into anxiety overdrive. What if it’s not her? What if it’s someone else using her phone to get me to the apartment? What if it’s Fiann, or worse, Agravaine?

  Chills flash over my skin, leaving me a sweaty, clammy mess. Think, Syl. Think!

  Okay. The chances of it being Agravaine are slim. Euphoria said she wasn’t going to engage. She wouldn’t have risked getting close to him, getting Commanded, and if she had been Commanded, she’d have written everything out in text, like she always does.

  Unless…

  Unless she’s trying to send me a warning.

  More chills leave me shivering, my teeth chattering. They’re at the apartment waiting for me. This is so not good.

  But what choice do I have? I only have Euphoria. I won’t lose her to Agravaine. I’ll figure out a way to save her. Maybe if I can get her alone… Maybe we can find a way to break the Command. She resisted it before.

  I’ll help her.

  All right. No more stalling.

  I take a deep breath and let it out, trying my hardest to summon a fairy wind like I’ve seen Euphoria do a gazillion times. She makes it look so easy. A gentle breeze kicks up, a tiny dervish that picks up a gum wrapper and a crushed pack of cigarettes. It winds and whirls and then dies.

  Crap.

  I have to admit to myself that I’m exhausted. I look at myself in the reflection of the glass-front doors of the ED. I look like death warmed over. My red hair a frizzy mess, dark circles under my eyes. I’ve seen better days.

  Okay, so…running it is.

  I blow out a breath. And run.

  Running feels good, even though my leg still throbs. The pain drives my adrenaline up a notch. My limbs are fatigued and burning, but it feels good to push myself, to push my exhaustion to the back of my mind. I am still Awakening, I tell myself. I can’t summon even half the power Euphoria has.

  I’m not new Syl. Not yet. Not by a long shot. But I have to try.

  I push myself, racing over the rooftops and down dark and narrow alleys. The hospital is about six miles from home, and I use the last of my energy getting there.

  I’m a ninja, a shadow, my speed hiding me from passersby. Oh, they might look twice, but then they convince themselves I’m just a figment of their imaginations. Nothing to see here. Just your friendly neighborhood sleeper-princess.

  I’m lucky. I don’t run across any of the Wakeful. I can cast a basic personal Glamoury, but I don’t have Euphoria’s ability to keep it going. Not yet. Will I ever fully Awaken?

  You have bigger problems right now Syl. Yeah, like my girlfriend being kidnapped by a complete jackwagon. My…girlfriend? Is Euphoria…? Are we…?

  Holy cats, Syl, focus!

  I’m home. I come to a stop in the alleyway. A sharp winter wind blows, scattering the trash there. A tuxedo cat, sleek with glowing white paws and belly, lurks in the alleyway, swaggering about like she owns the place. She sees me and promptly pauses to lick herself. Her whiskers twitch, those glowing eyes drilling into me. And then she bolts off with a loud mroworrr.

  Glamma always said tuxedos were the smartest cats, witches’ familiars and all that. Glamma, I wish you were here. I shake off sudden chills and put my foot on the fire escape.

  This time, I’m wary. I creep up the metal stairs, the soft pangs beneath my boots freaking me out a little. I look one more time at my phone. Euphoria’s last message glares up at me accusingly.

  It’s not her, Syl.

  I jam the phone into my pocket and wipe my sweaty hands on my torn school uniform pants. My window is open. My room is still a mess, everything everywhere. I slip inside, trying not to step on broken glass and porcelain from an antique doll Glamma gave me. Like the tuxedo cat, the doll’s eyes seem to follow me.

  You’re really freaking out, Syl. I shake off the creeps and steel myself. My door is open, and a thin light from the living room shines in across my walls, making jagged shadows.

  Every pool of darkness a hiding place for bogeymen.

  Fear crawls over my skin, but I shove it down deep. If Agravaine is here, he’ll pay for what he did to my mom. I square my shoulders.

  I walk through the living room, my Docs crunch, crunch, crunching on the broken glass. The shadows are warped and weird here, the overturned lamp casting light weirdly along the wall while keeping the main sections of the room in darkness.

  In a dark corner, the shadows undulate.

  My breath goes out as a tall figure steps from the darkness. “Euphoria!”

  I want to run to her, but my instincts scream a warning. She’s standing there with her head down, her raven-dark hair like a curtain across her face.

  Still, I take a step, drawn to her. “Euphoria.”

  “Syl.” It sounds like she’s choking my name through a throat full of razorblades.

  I try to catch her eye. A shiver slides up my spine. Her bronze skin is all ashy, and when my Fae-sight kicks in, I see a warped indigo shadow suffocating her aura.

  No. Oh no, no, no, no…

  “Euphoria…?”

  Blood trickles from her nose.

  “Syl…run…”

  The light goes out of my heart. “Euphoria!” I run to her, taking her hands. I don’t know what I mean to do, how I mean to save her…

  “Run!” She pushes me, but I am back at her side in an instant.

  “I won’t! I want to help you.”

  “You can’t.” Her voice is desperate now, and she lifts her head so she can look me in the eye. I see that same wildness in her as that night when Agravaine first Commanded her to attack me. Her sapphire-blue eyes darken to indigo, and her whole body trembles. Even now, she’s fighting the Command. “Go, princess. Please, you don’t have much ti—”

  “Syl.”

  The deep baritone shakes the room to its very bones. Agravaine steps out of the darkness. Fiann cowers behind him.

  “So good of you to join us.” He holds up Euphoria’s cell phone and then drops it. His boot comes down on it, and the crush and crunch of it under his heel is stupidly loud in the small space of my apartment. Fiann has that crazy Joker smile on her face, like she might scream in triumph or puke her guts out or both. Either way, seems like this is more than she bargained for.

  I still want to punch her in the face. “What do you want?”

  “To kill you, of course.” He says it mildly, but the shark’s gleam in his eyes tells me he’s hungered for this moment. “The last sleeper-princess. The last one who might have the power to stop me.”

  “Will,” I tell him. “I will stop you.”

  “I don’t think so.” His smile curves, showing all his sharp teeth. “Once you’re dead, I’ll have Rouen here.”

  I snort in disgust. “And what? You’ll force her to marry you? She already told me that’s not how it works, not even among you dark Fae.” I cock an eyebrow at him. “Besides, no means no, dude.”

  A muscle ticks in his jaw. “Oh, she told you, did she?”

  The jealousy is super-evident in his voice, and that gives me an idea. I played him before. Maybe I can play him again, get him to monologue. Like a good little villain. “She told me lots of things.”

  “Really?” He draws the word out, his tone all sugar and syrup, but his smile is pure rat poison.

  “We know about your plan with the Moribund and the tracks and your stupid circle of power.” I play it cool, but really my brain’s working double-time. Keep him talking. “It’ll never work. You don’t have the juice to power it.”

  “Well, you’ve certainly got it all figured out, don’t you?” He doesn’t seem fazed at all, which is so not good. I keep my best sarcastic look stamped to my face, but I’m s
tarting to sweat.

  Agravaine slings an arm across Euphoria’s shoulders, and I have sudden fantasies of breaking that arm, stomping the Moribund circuits out like the embers of a dying fire. “Well, Syl, truth is…I do have the ‘juice’ to power it.” He brushes Euphoria’s hair from her shoulder. “Don’t I, Rouen?”

  My guts drop out. It’s not me he’s after. We got it all wrong. This whole time, we’ve been protecting me…

  “Syl…” Euphoria looks at me, misery swimming in her blue eyes. I see her disgust, the way she jerks, wanting to push his arm off. She can’t. Not with him Commanding her. “Please. Please run.”

  But I don’t. I can’t just leave her. Whatever Agravaine’s got planned for her, it’s not good. Does he want to somehow use her to power his Grimmacle? But how? I poke at him. “Whatever stupid plan you have, it’s not going to work.”

  He laughs, all deep in his chest like I’ve just told the funniest joke in the world.

  Ha, ha. Jerk. God, I want to punch his lights out.

  “Oh, it’ll work.” His eyes gleam black, hungry. “Rouen here is connected to the hearthstone, and when I use the Moribund within her, when I blow those circuits, they’ll consume her…and when she dies, she’ll take the hearthstone with her. And I’ll consume all that power. I’ll have all the juice I need.”

  My heart seizes, leaving me breathless. That’s it. His endgame. And it’s so much worse than anything I’d ever imagined. Any smart-aleck comment I might have dies on my lips.

  He crosses the room in three strides, looming over me. “Sadly, all of that will kill poor Rouen, but you won’t have to worry about that, Syl.”

  I don’t back down. “Why is that?”

  “You’ll already be dead.”

  His threat makes my guts clench in dread, but he doesn’t make a move. Instead, he looks back over his shoulder. Creep. I hear the Command in his voice as he looks to Rouen. “Kill her. Meet me at the high school after you’ve taken care of her.”

  Euphoria jerks toward me and then stops herself. She fights. The trickle of blood becomes a gush from her nose.

  A vein pops out in Agravaine’s temple. “I said kill her.”

  She jerks forward. “Syl…run.”

  I can’t. I don’t want to. I want to help.

  “Run.” She steps in, taking Agravaine’s place looming over me. She lowers her voice. “I need you to run.”

  To run… Her hint slams into me. To run, to get away from Agravaine. Of course!

  I run.

  Instantly, I feel her behind me, chasing me. I haul butt through the front door and down the old beaten steps. I hear her coming after me, her boots pounding warped wood. I jump the last landing. She’s right behind me.

  Crap, crap, crap…. But if I can get her away from Agravaine, we might have a chance.

  We speed out onto the street. It’s empty except for a homeless man sleeping in the gutter. She’s after me, and my heart is pounding wildly. The game has changed. I’m not chasing her anymore. She’s chasing me.

  To hurt me, to kill me.

  At Agravaine’s Command.

  My anger spurs me on. I run despite the tears in my eyes. I have to lead her away from him. I have to save her.

  We race into the city, and at the nearest tall building, I leap up. Yeah, in a single bound. But I don’t waste time happy-dancing. She’s faster and she’s coming. I hear her strides lengthen, and I know what’s coming next.

  She leaps…

  The impact of her body crushes my breath out. We land hard and roll on the very tip-top of the skyscraper, wrestling, her trying to hold me down, me fighting to get free. We roll to the edge. Oh crap.

  Crappity crap crap crap.

  We tilt off the side, and of course, now all my efforts actually work. At the worst possible second, I fight free—only to plummet off the edge.

  She grabs me. I grab back.

  My heart is rabbiting in my chest, and we’re holding on, Euphoria dangling me over twenty-nine stories. If she drops me, I’m going straight down, down, down to my death.

  But the Command to kill me is strong. Her grip loosens. Blood rushes down her face. I see her eyes, confused, conflicted. She fights with everything she has.

  It’s killing her.

  Her or me.

  Below, the few cars on the streets streak and flash by like the matchbox cars I always played with at Glamma’s house.

  I squeeze her hand. I can’t let her do this. “Rouen…I….” I can’t let her sacrifice herself for me. Not again.

  This time I’ll save myself. “Rouen, it’s okay.”

  It strikes her visibly, like a note from her violin.

  “Syl…” For a moment, she’s herself again—my Euphoria, concern lighting her blue eyes.

  I let go.

  “Syl!”

  Her scream chases me as I plummet, down, down, down…

  Chapter Thirty

  Rouen

  What is life without you?

  Part of my heart, part of my soul

  Can’t breathe, can’t live

  Without you. Without you

  - “Without You,” Euphoria

  I run. From the city, from the building, from my last image of Syl…falling…down, down, down… My heart clenches and aches, and tears blur my vision. Bloody bones, Syl!

  She did it to save me.

  And I am totally, one thousand-percent unworthy.

  And now she’s gone.

  Tears streak down my face. I’ve gone totally emo dark Fae, and I can’t find the strength to care.

  I will my fairy wind to take me as far as fast as I can, Agravaine’s Command lacing my body with obedience. I should stop fighting it. I should let it take me fully. That way, I won’t have to think, won’t have to feel.

  Who’d have thought? Who’d have thought I could ever fall for a sleeper-princess?

  Syl…

  My heart aches as though an iron spike has been thrust through it. Looking down at myself, I’m surprised I don’t see blood staining my black tank top. Syl… Guilt and grief threaten to overwhelm me. I want to sink down in the middle of the street and sob, but no.

  I am the princess of the dark Fae and the Winter Court. I will see this out.

  No matter how bleak, no matter how grim my chances.

  Even now, the Moribund circuits in my hand stretch and tug; they pull against my flesh, making me ache inside and out.

  How much of that ache is physical and how much is because I love Syl? It hits me with the force of a Mack truck. I love her. But you couldn’t save her, an accusing part of me whispers. Not this time.

  Regret weighs on me, dragging me down. I will regret that for the rest of my life—whatever is left of it. Oh, I’ll fight to the end and all, but without her, I don’t care much for my own survival. My people. I must think of them now. A true princess puts her people first.

  Agravaine’s plan for me is grim. He’ll call upon the Moribund inside me. He’ll blow those circuits wide and consume my gramarye, my power, my very life-force, not to mention the hearthstone bound to me. All to power the Grimmacle, to create his dark Fae realm on Earth—with him installed as king. He never had any intention of saving the hearthstone, saving my people.

  He was just using us all. To remake himself as king.

  The Moribund in my hand stabs agony into me. There’s nothing I can do. I must obey his Command. Even now, it burns in my brain. “Meet me at the high school after you’ve taken care of her.”

  Taken care of her… The words twist and wrench in my guts.

  The last sleeper-princess is dead, and with her, the hopes for the hearthstone. The hopes to save my people. Agravaine never wanted to save them. It was always about him, about amassing power. Now the hearthstone will die in the darkness, the ley lines will collapse, taking the gates and Snickleways with them, and the vaults of UnderHollow, once held up by our dark Fae magic, will crumble. Everything will collapse and fall to ruin as the darkness closes over it.
My people, my homeland, the Winter Court, all lost to the Harrowing.

  Father, I have failed you.

  No, he failed when he and the arch-Eld set Agravaine above you, when they put their faith in him as the leader and allowed him to Contract you into slavery. You can do nothing, that soothing part of me whispers. It would be so easy to accept it.

  But I can’t. Syl would have kept fighting, and so will I.

  I hope, at least, to take Agravaine out with me.

  I leap off the last tall building. My boots hit the sidewalk, and I’m off running, the Command returning me to Agravaine like I’m some kind of drone he’s calling back. Still, it’s a relief to let my body go for a moment. The pain and agony of resisting flows out of me. I wipe dried blood from my nose. I won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me bleed.

  I dash down the streets and then up the long drive to the school and into the parking lot. It’s empty, the lights a dim, gross yellow.

  Beneath them, near Miss Jardin’s runaway rose garden, Fiann lounges against the wall. She’s got one leg kicked over the other, her designer jeans and designer shoes, her babydoll top so perfect, not a hair out of place. “Euphoria.” She practically purrs my name, looking down her nose at me in a gesture I think she thinks is…sexy?

  Ugh, really?

  I’m emo, but nowhere near emo enough to self-destruct by falling to Fiann’s charms.

  “You look tired, E.” She examines her fingernails, all coy.

  On my one to ten barf-o-meter, she’s a twelve. I cringe inwardly, thinking that’s exactly something Syl would say, and my anger flares. Fiann thinks that just because Syl is gone, I’ll suddenly be into her? She’s well and truly cracked. I glare at her, and she skips the rest of her grade-school seduction attempts.

  She jerks her thumb at the gym. “He’s waiting for you.”

  “Of course he is.”

  Stiff-backed, I walk to the back door of the gym and wrench it open. Screws patter to the ground as I step across the threshold into the gloom. Shadows and silhouettes hunch and soar all around me. The Winter Formal committee has already been here, doing their decorating. The ice castle and fake icicle banners glimmer and gleam in the dimness. A slight breeze blows the curtains, and a spatter of blue glitter breaks from above and falls.