Atlas’s lips turned downward as he glanced briefly at Brooks. “Do you know why I did it?”
“He was just a vessel to you,” she said, “a way to get what you wanted.”
“And what do I want?” Atlas stared into her eyes and waited.
“I know about the Filling.”
“Forget the Filling. I want you.”
“You want my tears.”
“I will admit it,” Atlas said. “At first you were just another Tearline girl to me. But then I got to know you. You’re really very fascinating. What a strange, dark, and twisted heart you have. And what a face! Contrasts beguile me. The more time I spent inside that body”—he sighed, nodded at Brooks—“the more I relished being near you. Then you disappeared with …”
“Ander,” Eureka said.
“Never say that name in my kingdom!” Atlas shouted.
“Because of Leander,” Eureka murmured. “Your brother who stole—”
Atlas grabbed Eureka’s throat. “Everything from me. Understand?” His grip loosened. He composed himself with a breath. “He is flushed from both our lives now. We will not think of him again.”
Eureka looked away. She would try not to think of Ander. It would make her mission easier, even though it was impossible.
“When you were gone,” Atlas said, “the ghost of your beauty haunted me.”
“You want one thing from me—”
“I want always to be near you. And I get what I want.”
“You haven’t gotten what you wanted in a long time.”
“I didn’t have to bring you here,” Atlas said. “I saw your tears fill the lachrymatory. I could have taken it and left you rotting in those mountains. Think about that.” He paused and gazed into the treetops thousands of feet above. “We were getting on so well,” he whispered in her no-longer-bad ear. “Remember our kiss? I knew you knew it was me all along, just as I imagine you knew I knew you knew. Neither one of us is dumb, so why don’t we stop pretending?”
He reached for her with a warm, strong hand. Eureka whipped away, mind whirring. She needed to resume pretending, to never stop, if she was going to survive. She had to trick him and she didn’t know how.
“Are you wishing you had shot me when you had the chance?” Atlas asked, grinning. “Don’t worry, there will be yet more chances for you to end my life—and to prove your love by sparing it.”
“Give me the gun and I’ll disprove it now,” she said. “You know why I didn’t shoot.”
“Oh yes.” Atlas gestured toward Brooks. “Because of this corpse.”
The trees beyond Atlas rustled as ten girls in thigh-high boots and short red dresses with orichalcum breastplates stepped out from behind them. Their helmets shifted colors in the sun and hid their faces.
“Hello, girls,” Atlas said, and turned to Eureka. “My Crimson Devils. They will see to your every need.”
“Her bed is ready,” one of the girls said.
“Take her to it.”
“Brooks!” Eureka reached for his dead body.
“You loved him,” Atlas said. “You really loved him best of all. I know it. But you shall love again. Better, stronger”—he caressed Eureka’s cheek—“deeper. As only a girl can do.”
“What should we do with the body?” one of the girls asked, nudging Brooks’s chest with her boot.
Atlas thought a moment. “Have my ostriches had breakfast?”
Eureka tried to scream, but a harness fell over her face. A metal bar snapped between her teeth. Someone tightened the harness from behind as green artemisia vapor swirled before her eyes.
Just before she lost consciousness, Atlas held her close. “I’m glad you’re here, Eureka. Now everything can begin.”
27
THE LIGHTNING CLOAK
Eureka awoke chained to a bed.