Churning faster. I type into my comm and find a message from General Alejandro.
We need you, Miss Lockwood, more than ever before. Word has just come in. Our soldiers discovered a warehouse in the Land of the Harvest, with an army of potential Abrogates inside. These humans are infected just as Dior Nichols was. They are strapped to gurneys, asleep, and hooked to machines. We need your Light to cleanse them before these people awaken and escape. I don’t have to tell you the devastation they could cause to us— to the world.
My blood chills in my veins. I haven’t fully digested the ramifications of this development before another message catches my attention. Drawing in a deep breath…hold, hold… I read it. Alejandro again.
The bad news keeps coming. Dior Nichols and Javier Diez were killed in a car accident. Myriad’s doing, I’m sure. They must be planning another strike against us, and building their forces. We have to act fast, before it’s too late. Please, Miss Lockwood. Let me help you so that you can help our realm. Shamus told me what he did to Mr. Flynn. I will take over the boy’s care. I will guard him with my life. You have my word. All you must do is sever your bond to him. If you are plagued by shadows, how can you aid those who need your Light?
All the air leaves my lungs in a single burst. My gaze flips up, landing on Archer. “I’m so sorry. He’s right. Dior experienced Firstdeath. She’s now in Myriad.”
His nostrils flare as his attention whips to Killian. “Did you know what they planned?”
Merciless, Killian spreads his arms, all what do you think?
“Don’t pretend ignorance.” Archer points at him, the action spurring Bea into another round of snarling. “Dior is no longer human, able to right the wrongs committed against other humans. Yesterday’s actions led us to today’s destination. She is stuck on the wrong path!”
Guilt darkens Killian’s features only to vanish a second later. “Just think. If you’d stayed in Myriad, where you belonged, you’d be with her.”
How cold and callous he sounds.
With a curse, Archer bangs a fist into one of the bars. “If I find out you were involved in her murder…”
“You’ll forgive me,” Killian snaps. “Because you’re a Troikan. Isn’t that right? Or can you take the boy out of Myriad but not take Myriad out of the boy? Would you like to let your dark side out to play and wreak havoc against me? Would you like vengeance? Go ahead. Feel your rage, Archer. Act on it. I dare you.”
Tremors rock Archer. He’s like a powder keg about to blow.
Zero! What should I do?
By slaying Dior and Javier, Myriad has upped their game. They have an Abrogate in their realm rather than the Land of the Harvest, and that Abrogate is a major threat to my friends. He must be fought by a Conduit at the top of her— or his—game. More than that, the potential Abrogates must be stopped. Alejandro is right about that. Where he messed up? Suggesting I sever my bond to Killian and give him to the Generals.
Can the bond between an inter-realm couple be severed? Surely. A bond between a spirit and a realm can be dissolved in court. Perhaps we simply need to disavow each other.
My mind whirls as my gaze meets Killian’s.
He frowns. “Your thoughts,” he says, frown deepening. “I can hear them.”
What?! No way. Sweat beads my brow. “I’m not pushing my words into your head.” Am I?
“Oh, really? You’re thinking about severing our bond. We simply need to disavow each other.” He smiles coldly as I struggle to breath. He had heard my thoughts. “How about this? If you don’t meet my list of demands, I’ll disavow you here and now.”
Okay, I had unconsciously pushed my thoughts into his head. I’d been thinking about him, and must have activated the link. I summon beams of Light around my mind, just in case, sending the shadows into a tailspin. Pain shoots through my temples, but I continue to let the Light shine. Killian winces, as if burned.
I think: If you tell me what I’m thinking now, I’ll strip naked.
His expression never changes, and I nearly drop with relief. Okay, then. My thoughts are now shielded. No way a hedonist like Killian could resist such bait. Not because he wants to see me naked—maybe he wants to see me naked— but because the act will embarrass me.
I’ll have to be more careful in the future.
“What are your demands?” I grate.
“For starters, Archer Prince will leave the house. On his hands and knees.”
Anger sparks. Around me, my friends sputter. I hold up my hand in a bid for silence, and return to my musings. If I’m right, and Killian lost his memories because he must choose to love me, the enemy, without the aid of emotion— effectively embracing his Troikan side—his Myriadian side would make him inclined to disavow me as soon as possible. But. By willingly sticking with me, he’s going against the urge to drop me like a hot potato, unwittingly embracing Light.
Maybe I’m off base. Shall I force the issue, as he has done, and find out?
You want to be rid of me? Fine. Disavow me.
I will be taking a big risk. Huge. He could respond without hesitation: Boom. You’re disavowed.
Beads of sweat pop up across my brow. I can’t lose my way into Myriad, and Many Ends.
But no risk, no reward, right? And I can’t let him hold our bond over my head, continuing to use it as leverage every time he wants something.
“I’m not meeting any of your demands,” I tell Killian. “Neither are my friends. If you want to disavow me, do it.”
His eyes narrow to tiny slits, his breathing a bit more labored.
“Do it,” I shout. My hands fist. “Say goodbye to your ticket into Troika and disavow me.”
Though anger glitters in his eyes, a slow smile blooms. A wicked one. “How could I ever let you go, baby? I have plans for you…”
I run my tongue over my teeth. I’m sure he does. But three cheers for me! I’d defused a tough situation. The risk had paid off.
“Just as I have plans for you,” I tell him. I won’t lose focus on my endgame. Peace between the realms. Freedom for the spirits in Many Ends.
One mission at a time.
The smile fades in a hurry. He didn’t like hearing that I might be using him. Good!
“I’ll help Dior,” I promise Archer, getting us back on track. I’ll enter Myriad with Killian, as planned, find and hide her so that she can’t be used against us, then go full steam ahead toward my endgame.
I face the others. “You never asked to be part of my personal war, and I don’t expect your support.” Amid twitters of confusion, I add, “I intend to find Shamus, free Killian and enter Myriad…and Many Ends. The two are connected. Ask Reed. I intend to—no, I will save the spirits trapped inside. It can be done. Reed and Kayla are proof of that. But. While I’m there, I need your help in the Land of the Harvest. There’s a warehouse full of humans who are infected with Penumbra.”
Penumbra is a big, bad boogyman, and only a select few citizens know about Dior’s and Javier’s infection. We’ve held our silence, hoping to avoid widespread panic.
My friends are part of the few.
“I’m proof spirits can be saved from Many Ends,” Reed says, “but you forget. I never experienced Second-death while there. Others were not so fortunate. I witnessed countless murders. There, spirits vanish.” He snaps. “Just like that. What if they are dead for good?”
“They could be, but I doubt it. You remember the screams as well as I do, I’m sure.” From the moment I awoke in Many Ends till the very second I left, a chorus of pain and agony rang out. “There are survivors, and whether those people died once, twice or a thousand times, they are suffering unimaginable horrors.”
Eyes closed, he shuffles from one booted foot to the other, huffs out a breath. When he faces me once again, he’s pale, as if a soundtrack of those screams is now playing inside his head. “You’re right. I’m in. Whatever you need me to do.”
One down. Five to go. The majority.
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