Incarnate

“What about me?” Stef mumbled. “No kiss for me?”

 

 

“Sorry, Stef. I’ll hold your hand, though.” The aisles between the cots were narrow enough for a small chair and nothing else. I slipped one hand into Stef’s as she fell asleep again, and leaned my head on Sam’s pillow, next to his.

 

When I awoke, all my muscles creaking, daylight illuminated the ravaged city. Search parties went out for the missing, but they’d never find Meuric. I kept waiting for someone to blame me for his disappearance, but when Sine came by, she just told me that Sam and his friends had been exonerated and I could live with him again.

 

As our vehicle drove over debris and through the market field, I peered up at the temple. The crack the dragons had made mended itself while I watched, and I could almost hear the echoes of Janan’s words in the rumble: “Mistake. You are a mistake of no consequence.”

 

I hugged my backpack and tried not to listen as the driver talked about the seventy-two people who’d died while the temple was dark.

 

Seventy-two people who’d never come back.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

.....................................................................

 

Chapter 30

 

After

 

MORE THAN ANYTHING, I wanted Sam to myself for a few days, but Stef invited herself to stay with us. She didn’t want to be alone.

 

I didn’t blame her, and I didn’t protest. She’d been his best friend since the beginning. I couldn’t comprehend how deep their feelings for each other ran, but I knew what it meant. When the driver stopped in front of Sam’s house, I helped Stef out, too. She took my room and I took the parlor.

 

While they recovered, I did what I could to put their homes back in order. Li and the Council had ransacked Sam’s house, and dragons had marauded through every quarter, spitting acid. Though the exteriors had healed themselves once the temple began to glow again, the interiors and outbuildings were wrecked.

 

I took care of what I could on my own, starting with gardens and cavies and chicken coops, other things that would provide food during the last month of winter. I swept shattered glass and dragged off useless wood boards for recycling. I cooked and cleaned, did anything I could to keep myself busy while search parties found more survivors and the Councilhouse hospital sent medics around to check on everyone.

 

I did anything to keep from thinking about Templedark, what they called that night, and all the people I hadn’t saved. I tried not to think about Menehem, either. Sylph fires had killed him—medics said it had been very painful—but he’d be reincarnated, since he’d hung on until the temple lit itself again. A hundred others had managed to wait to die, too.

 

But seventy-two would be gone forever. Probably more. There were a lot of people they weren’t sure about.

 

Sam and Stef rested and ate when ordered, and did various exercises to regain strength. After a week, Stef thanked me and said she was going home. She promised to look in on us; her expression, behind the mask of fading bruises, was filled with worry. I just nodded.

 

After she left, I sat on the stairs and hugged my knees. Pieces of me felt hollow. No amount of putting Sam’s house back together would fill them.

 

I’d killed Meuric. He might come back. There was a good chance he’d been dead before the temple went dark, but what if he’d writhed in pain for hours before finally dying? What if I’d destroyed him as Menehem had Li?

 

Sam sat down next to me. “I know you must live here, because things move when I’m not looking.”

 

“This is living?” Everything inside me wallowed in numbness, like I had leapt off the top of the temple and was still falling. Like I’d never again have a thunderstorm inside me. At least thunderstorms involved feeling.

 

“You told the medics you weren’t hurt. Did they miss something?”

 

“I wish I hurt.” I slid one hand up to my shoulder and massaged the muscles around it. Still tender. The wise thing to do would have been to let them look at it, but they’d have taken me away from Sam. Not that I’d hung around him once we got here.

 

I kept my gaze on my socks.

 

“Can you tell me what happened after you left the prison window?”

 

“Will it help?”

 

He hesitated, and I imagined the line between his eyes while he considered the best way to tell the truth. “Maybe. If you don’t want to talk about it, there’s nothing wrong with that decision. I’d like to know. It would help me to know what we’ll be dealing with.”

 

“What will happen to Menehem when he’s reincarnated?”

 

“It’s hard to say. I imagine he’ll be imprisoned for at least one lifetime. Probably more, considering . . .” Sam stared down into the parlor. “I’m sure they’ll want to know how he did it.”

 

“He was going to tell me.”

 

Jodi Meadows's books