The Art of Saving the World

by Corinne Duyvis

  The Hazel stepped forward. Her feet on the ground made no sound at all. One branch went through her foot, as though she wasn’t even there.

  Killed. The word whispered around my brain. Killed, killed, killed. I knew it. I’d known it all along: I was missing something. I was messing up.

  I replayed the scene from Tara’s street. Then replayed Neven’s anger afterward.

  The Hazel went on: “We’re talking about the same human who spent sixteen years with an interdimensional rift on her doorstep, yet never once attempted to investigate, even when I left the opportunity wide open. Even her kid sister took the hint. We’re talking about the same human who could’ve freed you and gotten years of practice with her sword, if she’d only nosed around. I’m running low on patience. I miscalculated, yes, but I wound back that error. It doesn’t mean you can start telling them about us.” She narrowed her eyes.

  Except I didn’t think this was a she.

  I didn’t think this was another version of me at all.

  “I gave you a job,” she told Neven, “and I expect you to do it.”

  This was one of the Powers That Be.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  “Don’t let them screw around further,” the Power said. “The faster she wraps this up, the better our shot of closing the rift.”

  “Will you be patient enough to let them? No more nudges?”

  “Oh, I think she picked up on the hint this time. Any more and my colleagues would think me a cheater. No more nudges. No more rewinds.” It flashed a grin.

  Not the kind of grin I saw on the other Hazels’ faces. Not the kind of grin I felt on my own.

  A grin cold and bright and terrifying.

  “You have company, by the way.” It looked right at me. Its glow flickered. It didn’t blink as its edges blurred, fading into the glow until the figure was just the faintest shape of light. It went out a second later.

  The world was dark again. Neven stood in the clearing by herself.

  Neven’s lumbering shape turned. “Hazel?”

  “Was that . . .? Why did she look like me?”

  “The Powers That Be have malleable appearances. Everyone sees something different. What did you hear?”

  “Killed?”

  Neven released a slow, rasping sigh. Leaves on the ground rustled.

  “But I don’t remember . . .” I shook my head. “How . . .?”

  “They pulled back time.”

  I grappled with my words. “That’s possible?”

  “For brief periods. Your worlds weren’t meant to be manipulated that way. Any longer than a minute is disastrous; an interference that significant would crumble the walls entirely.” Neven’s wide black eyes gleamed in the dark. “Hazel?”

  This didn’t change anything. Not about what had happened, and not about what had to happen. The Power had even said I’d picked up on its hints.

  I still felt like I’d gotten punched in the gut.

  I pressed my nails into the fleshy tips of my fingers. Just hard enough to hurt. Just hard enough to focus. “They want us to kill Alpha,” I said.

  “I see.”

  The words came as a flood. “Was it the goal all this time? There must be an alternative. This is a test, right, to see if we’ll refuse? We can defeat the trolls another way. There’s the steel weapons, and you can help—”

  “I can help,” she agreed. “I can’t be the main weapon.”

  “Right. Against the rules?” My lips pressed together tightly. Based on everything I’d heard, it sounded as though Neven had told the truth about the trolls being the key to closing the rift. She was on our side. The Power wouldn’t have been so angry with her otherwise. But I had to know: “What happens if you break them, anyway? Do you—poof—get taken away? Do we insta-fail our mission?”

  “If they decide I’m a risk factor, they can take me off the mission. If they think it would help motivate you, they could kill me.”

  “Really?” I whispered. Neven shouldn’t have to pay the price for my failures.

  I’d been too eager. Too clueless. I’d died. Time had to be rewound to cover my mistake. And that time Carolyn sneaked out to the barns—what the Powers had wanted was for me to sneak out. I’d never even considered it.

  No wonder the Powers had sent the other Hazels.

  I’d spent the past hours terrified that being lowercase-C-chosen meant I would simply die and that was it, no grand destiny, no hero’s journey—and now I learned it’d already happened.

  I hadn’t stood up and defeated the trolls. I hadn’t sacrificed myself for some grand plan.

  I’d run into the trolls by accident and died within minutes.

  I’d bled out on the street.

  When I spoke again, my voice sounded creaky. “Can you fly me to the library?”

  The trolls were everywhere.

  Neven flew low, giving me a good view of the town. While the outskirts of Damford seemed quiet, the closer we came to Tara’s house and the library, the more movement we saw.

  A group of trolls rushed down a shopping square on all fours, while one troll nearly Carolyn’s size was scaling a church wall. On the corner of a residential street, a door slammed open. A woman bolted from the house, dragging a teenage boy behind her. They reached their car right in time. Two midsize trolls sprinted after it, but were left breathing exhaust and gave up quick. As we flew overhead, they craned their necks and watched us pass.

  A few streets down, we spotted the pickup truck that’d come to my rescue earlier. A body lay limply on the truck bed. Bright blood streaked his hair. The other fighters surrounded him, fending off trolls trying to climb on. As I watched, two trolls got smacked to the pavement, tumbling over each other with a cloud of dirt in their wake. By the time the dust settled, two trolls had become one. They—it—burst back toward the truck. It leaped onto the side, now heavy enough to dent the metal.

  Merging. Just like Alpha mentioned.

  We needed to help. I was about to ask Neven to descend when the truck tore off to safety. The troll crashed to the street.

  The situation in Damford was worsening by the minute. If we didn’t stop it, if I didn’t stop it—

  I gripped Neven tighter. Her rough scales scraped across my hands.

  Moments later, we reached the library. I’d checked the phone beforehand for a satellite view so we could recognize the building—all tall windows and old brick—but even so, it took me a second to realize we’d arrived. Wooden boards and metal plates had been nailed to the windows; trees around the building had been chopped down to clear the view; a border hedge had been reinforced with steel plates and spikes and beams. A hastily constructed metal fence doubled as an extra layer of protection. On the street, there were several pickup trucks; in one I spotted Golf Club Guy, who we’d seen guarding the roadblock.

  There was even an honest-to-God gunman on the library roof, with a rifle in one hand, headphones peeking out under his hood, and binoculars around his neck. It gave me chills, but he was simply staring at Neven, mouth agape. He raised his hand in a wary hello. I returned the greeting.

  He must’ve gotten a heads-up from Torrance. I’d texted her about preparing people at the library for Neven’s arrival.

  Neven landed in a clearing behind the library, just inside the metal fence. I slipped off her back. Nearby, an engine roared, followed by yells I couldn’t make out. One of the pickup trucks took off.

  I need to help, I thought again. I shook my head to dismiss the thought.

  “Prime!” a familiar voice called.

  Torrance and Rainbow turned the corner, stepping over a felled tree.

  “Are you both OK?” Rainbow looked from Neven to me. “We’ve been hearing stories. It’s getting worse, isn’t it?”

  I nodded mutely.

  “How did it go with Ha—with Alpha?” Torrance asked.

  “She’s, um.” I ran my hands along my upper arms for heat. “We didn’t make any progress.”

  I had
to tell them, but how? Did I even want to? I couldn’t predict how Torrance would react. For all I knew, she’d welcome the solution and ask to borrow a rifle.

  What about the other Hazels? They’d been brought to this world to save lives. It felt like betrayal to tell them we were expected to take a life instead.

  “It was your birthday yesterday, right?” Torrance said, snapping me from my thoughts. “Happy belated. And I promise: Sixteen doesn’t normally suck quite this much.”

  I tried to smile. “That’s a relief.”

  “Don’t get me wrong. It’s close.”

  This time, my smile was more sincere. “Do you know how my dad’s doing, by the way?”

  “Last I heard, he’s recovering well. They moved him to a hospital outside the city.”

  “We have a solution to the Alpha problem,” Rainbow said, which made my head snap up. “Well, we hope so, anyway. Look. Things went badly because we were stressing her out. After everything she was already dealing with, we showed up talking about destinies and Chosen Ones and her being the key, and then there’s her history with Dr. Torrance . . . No wonder she was anxious.”

  “Hey! You all!” A bulky, graying man stepped over the tree log. The sheriff, based on the silver star on his chest. “You ought to get inside.” He slowed and stared at Neven. His mouth opened and closed a few times, like he was trying to say something but the words wouldn’t come.

  Torrance nodded. “As I said. A dragon.”

  “I don’t—” Nervously, he looked between Neven and us. “You’re sure it’s friendly?”

  “Yes,” Torrance said.

  “She,” Neven said. “I would describe myself as amicable.”

  “It talks.” He looked like he’d either faint or laugh hysterically. “Of course it talks.”

  “She talks. What is it with you humans and pronouns? Regardless. If you need them inside, I can wait out here.”

  The thought unsettled me. I’d hoped to have Neven as backup when I told the others about the Powers’ “solution.” Now it was all up to me.

  The sheriff blew out a slow sigh. “All right. Everyone else, get inside. Before I start thinking too hard about what’s happening.”

  “You get used to these things,” Torrance told him.

  “God,” he said. “I hope not.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  We followed the sheriff, slipping around the corner and stepping over tree trunks. Overhead, something rustled. My hand shot toward my pocket and I whirled to identify the sound.

  “Relax. It’s the roof.” The sheriff gestured upward. Two figures moved around near the edge. “Sent my guys to keep an eye on things and direct the teams on the ground.”

  “You really have this under control.” Rainbow sounded impressed.

  “Yeah, well, blame my kid’s obsession with the zombie apocalypse. Turned out to be a decent help.” He shot a sideways look at Torrance. “More’n I can say for your government.”

  “It’s your government, too,” she pointed out.

  “Mm-hmm.”

  An armed man guarded the entrance, fretfully looking across the library grounds. A chain dangled from a doorknob, and another chain and a dead bolt lay on broken pavement. “That’s everyone?” he asked, opening the door.

  “Yeah. Lock up behind us—we’re done letting people out—and join O’Brien.” The sheriff stepped aside, letting the rest of us enter first. “There’s a lot of activity nearby. We gotta brace ourselves.”

  Inside, it smelled musty, like old books and sweat and a metallic scent I couldn’t identify. The only light came from ceiling halogen lights; all the windows, even the intricate stained glass above the doorway, were boarded up from the outside.

  I’d never been inside a public library—just the small one at school—but I doubted it normally looked like this. Wide bookcases stood crookedly in the front hall. Right past an all-glass doorway that led into the library proper were even more bookcases, shoved together so closely there was barely room to walk past. Other bookcases were shoved nearer to the walls, making space in the center of the main hall, which was filled with tables, chairs, blankets, backpacks, scattered books, and a few dozen people ranging from young kids to the elderly. People glanced up as we passed, but didn’t pay us much mind. “Why haven’t they left the town?” I asked.

  Torrance shrugged off her coat. “Not everyone has a place to go to, or money for a hotel. They’d rather take their chances here. Others wanted to stay and fight. Some wanted to be near their families.”

  “Have you reported back about us? Or about the connection between Alpha and the trolls?”

  She shook her head. “Not yet.”

  “Yet.”

  Torrance cast a sidelong look at me as we crossed the hall. Her frameless glasses gleamed in the light. “I don’t want to betray Alpha’s trust, or yours, but it’d be irresponsible to hold off much longer. The agency has resources. They might have solutions. I only waited because I worried those solutions might not prioritize Alpha’s well-being.”

  I shared that concern. The MGA would never want to hurt Alpha—or any of us—but if it’d save lives, I fully believed they’d consider the option.

  And it would save lives. The thought sickened me nonetheless.

  “Please wait,” I said quietly. “I know you’ll probably lose your job, but . . .”

  Torrance winced. “No ‘probably’ about it. I know I shouldn’t be worrying about my job, but I’m a mom, and without that income, I might—” She shook her head. “It’s probably too late already. Let’s just see how our plan works.”

  She gestured ahead of us, where the library opened into a back room. Red and Four sat in tattered desk chairs, while across from them, Tara sat cross-legged on a table. What was she doing here?

  An ancient-looking laptop, askew stacks of books, and a coffee mug occupied the rest of the desk.

  “. . . at a distance?” Tara was saying.

  At the sight of Tara, Rainbow smiled so quickly and sincerely it had to be a reflex.

  “Here.” Four thrust a wrapped sandwich at me. “There’s more if you need it.” Similar wrappers filled the bin beside the desk. I didn’t know what kind of sandwich Four had given me, and I didn’t care. I tore off the plastic and chowed down with a vengeance.

  “OK, the plan.” Red rested a hand on the back of Four’s seat. “Anyone in Alpha’s position would be stressed. The MGA, the trolls, another dimension, and then us and Dr. Torrance . . . The trolls respond to that stress. What if we can make her feel safe?”

  Tara nodded. “The others filled me in. I didn’t believe it, but, well, Rainbow convinced me.” Her face twisted into something that was part smile, part grimace, all awkward. She was tapping a pencil against her leg. “Even my dad doesn’t know some of those things about me.”

  “Ha. Sorry about that.” As joking as Rainbow sounded, the way she pressed her teeth into her lip suggested otherwise. It was the first time I’d seen her bite her lip, I realized. I’d seen it on all the others.

  “I can help.” Tara looked at me with determination. “I can talk to Alpha. Try to put her at ease.”

  “What?” I said around a mouthful of sandwich. I swallowed. “No way. That’s too dangerous.”

  “Not necessarily,” Red said. “Alpha should have enough control

  to keep the trolls from attacking Tara; she stopped them from hurting Dr. Torrance, at least at first, even though she hated her.”

  “Present tense,” Torrance corrected. “Hates me.”

  Red smiled apologetically. “Tara doesn’t have the baggage Dr. Torrance came with, or the pressure we came with.”

  “I don’t know . . .”

  The others looked at me, some hopeful, some cautious. Tara was still playing with the pencil.

  Their logic held up, and the solution would be elegant. We would save the world with love instead of death.

  I wanted to believe them—but I couldn’t.

  “Alpha is panic
king,” I told them. “I barely got out alive. Do you think Alpha would simply make Tara some hot cocoa and settle in to watch a movie together? She can’t hold off the trolls indefinitely. Alpha would know that any slip of the mind could result in Tara’s death. A death Alpha would be responsible for. She wouldn’t be soothed; she’d be terrified.”

  The others were silent. “Shit,” Red eventually said. “You’re right.”

  “I wish I weren’t,” I said quietly.

  Four looked up, pleading. “I don’t know what other options we have.”

  “I do.” I couldn’t say it, I couldn’t, I couldn’t ask them to be party to this—

  The Power’s words echoed in my mind. I’d failed before. If I didn’t do this, I’d fail again, and the world would end because of me.

  Rainbow, Red, and Tara raised their eyebrows, an invitation to continue. I licked crumbs off my lips, which felt uncomfortably dry. “The Powers That Be want us to kill Alpha.”

  The room erupted into gasps and questions. For a few moments, I simply stayed in the doorway, one hand clutching the half-eaten sandwich, the other gripping the doorframe. I let a splinter dig into my skin as the noise washed over me.

  Maybe they could find a solution without me. I didn’t want to put the responsibility on them—I just wasn’t the right person for it, either.

  Again, I thought: Someone like Alpha should’ve been the Chosen One. Or someone like Red with her smarts, or Rainbow with her guts, or . . .

  “Killing her?” Torrance put one hand in her neck. “I really didn’t want it to come to that.”

  She’d already wondered? The idea hadn’t even occurred to me before the Powers That Be shoved it into my face. In retrospect, it should’ve. I’d been too naive.

  “Prime, are you sure? How?” Red asked.

  “Yes. It’s a long story.” I didn’t want to get into having overheard the Power. “But Alpha knows, too.”

  “That’ll be why the trolls became extra aggressive so abruptly,” Torrance said. “I’m guessing she got upset.”

  Tara raised an eyebrow. “Um, yeah. Seems reasonable.”