Infinite (Incarnate)

The thought made me shiver. Four more days.

 

Sarit glanced down the hall, which was dark and quiet. Everyone was sleeping or wishing they were. She’d had lots of time to study the patterns and habits of guards, and while there was no time when it would be easy to sneak past everyone, the predawn hours provided the least resistance.

 

Shadows at our heels, we crept through the halls, straining to catch any sound of movement. Sarit’s white-knuckled grip on her pistol never eased, but the building remained quiet, save the rumble and clatter of the world trembling beneath us.

 

Breaking into prison, it turned out, wasn’t very difficult. Stef and Sam went in first, and after a few moments, they signaled Sarit and me to follow.

 

Three bodies slumped over a desk and chairs, clean burn holes in their temples. When I looked at Sam and Stef, they kept their eyes averted and motioned down a corridor. “That way,” she said. “I’ll unlock the cells from here.”

 

I took Sarit’s hand and dragged her with me. Sam and the sylph trailed after us, the latter keeping their heat low to avoid burning anything; we didn’t want to leave evidence of their working with us.

 

Slumbering people crowded the cells, sleeping bags pressed against one another. There had to be a hundred people in this dark place of sweat and stench and hunger, with no empty floor space in any of the ten cells. They sighed and groaned in their sleep.

 

I turned on the lights.

 

Several people burrowed deeper into their sleeping bags, while others didn’t move. A few pushed up onto their elbows and blinked around.

 

“Don’t be alarmed,” I said, conscious of the sylph around me like a cloak, and my friends walking up behind me. “We’ve come to free you.”

 

“Is that Ana?” Whispers and mutters erupted throughout the cells. A few shook others awake, and the prison grew loud with voices and rustling sleeping bags.

 

“The newsoul. She’s back.”

 

“She’s going to get us all killed.”

 

“Are those sylph?”

 

“Sylph!”

 

Within moments, every prisoner was on their feet and pressed as far back inside their cells as possible. One or two wept silently. Most just stared, terror in their eyes.

 

“Just like Menehem,” breathed someone. “Come to kill us.”

 

“I’m not here to hurt anyone!” My voice rang out over the cells. “We came to set you free. Stef is back there, ready to open your cells. But first I need you to know something.”

 

The clamor of voices dulled, and gazes focused on me. I drew a few deep breaths to clear my head, but their fear and distrust was palpable.

 

“You’ve all been imprisoned for questioning Deborl, or refusing to follow his orders. Others have been killed.” I met a man’s grave eyes, and a woman’s look of despair. “I know what you’ve suffered in the last few months.

 

“You know many of us left Heart and Range after the new year. Sarit and Armande stayed behind to watch and wait for our return. Because though I’ve been exiled, I swore I’d return and do everything I could to save Heart, the people here, and the people who left. I still intend to do that. Armande died at Deborl’s hands several weeks ago, but Sarit was able to tell us what you’ve endured, and I’m here to tell you something: it will get worse.”

 

“What do you mean?” someone asked, over the ripple of mutters. “I thought you were going to free us.”

 

“I am here to free you.” I straightened my shoulders and lifted my chin. “But Soul Night is coming, and Deborl is preparing for Janan’s return. His ascension will trigger a series of massive eruptions. Whit”—his name caught in my throat, tangling with grief—“finished applying Rahel’s seismic research to these signs, these earthquakes and dying plants and bulges in the land. There will be days and days of eruptions. The ash and pyroclasts will smother Heart and Range and all the surrounding lands. There will be nothing left.”

 

“Do we all leave, then?” asked one of the boys, maybe a few years older than Sam and me. He kept eyeing the sylph, my silent, shadowy guardians.

 

I shook my head. “You can try, but you won’t be able to outrun the eruption.”

 

“Then what do we do?” asked a girl, a few years younger than me.

 

“I have a plan to keep Janan from returning—from ascending.” I bit back revealing exactly what that plan was. Everyone already thought I was like Menehem. No need to give them more ammunition. “I’m going to do everything in my power to stop him, but I can’t do it alone.”

 

“What do you need?” The girl stepped forward, scraping black hair from her face. “What can we do?”

 

“Where will everyone be when Soul Night begins?” I asked.

 

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