Everlife (Everlife #3)

Second, if Archer isn’t careful, he’ll drain himself to death. Hit the point of no return, when an infusion of Light can’t help him.

I don’t have much Light to offer, but I’m willing to give the pair everything I’ve got. Except, with the shadows writhing inside me, I might do more harm than good.

No time to debate the pros and cons. Someone rams into me, knocking me down. Stars wink through my vision. Blinking, I jump to my feet—or try to. A stampede rushes over me, and all I can do is curl into a ball until the worst is over, using all of my strength to maintain my hold on my swords. They are special to me, and I won’t give them up, not even to save my arms from the worst of the damage.

Ha! Every part of me sustains the worst amount of damage. No part of me is spared. Agony sears me. As my head swims with dizziness, a brutal roar blasts. The rampage stops, but it’s too late. My bones are broken, my muscles frozen in protest. I can’t move.

“Drink.” Sweet liquid is poured down my throat.

Bones snap into place, and torn flesh weaves together. The pain is excruciating, but at least it’s quick. I cough out a shredded piece of lung as I sit up.

Thank the Firstking, my swords are unharmed. Clay is crouched beside me, Biscuit in front of us, standing guard, forcing people to move around us.

“You good?” Biscuit asks, then snarls at a guy who stumbles too close. “I gots to know. Tell me!”

“I’m good, I promise. Thank you.” Without my friends, I would have died in this realm.

Together we stand, or one by one we fall.

Beyond Biscuit, Raanan is fighting off a horde of guards, protecting…Killian! He’s out of Victor’s Shell and now in spirit form, but he’s splayed on the ground, turning my relief to dismay. My injuries must have weakened him. However, my healing ensures his, and he lumbers to his feet.

He and Raanan work in tandem, guarding each other’s backs while striking at the enemy. Their motions are fluid, graceful—and despite the violence meted against them, they are as gentle as possible with the opposition.

As I watch Killian safeguard my friends, the block around my heart begins to crumble. He meant what he said. He’s fighting for me, and for us. He’s putting our relationship first.

As soon as the last brick crumbles, the mortar nothing but ash, the bridge between us opens up. Killian’s thoughts and emotions flood me. Love. Determination. Anger directed at his people, who have turned against him. Concern for my well-being. But beneath it all…there is Light, stronger and brighter than ever before.

If zero is my curse word, infinity must be my exclamation of joy. So…sweet infinity! His shadows are gone and—

Like a river, his Light showers and floods me, and drowns my darkness. That part of me is dying. Killed by Light. Love. All the cruelties, all the insecurities, all the hatred, fury and paranoia. There’s nothing left for them to feed on.

He and I…we are together, wholly, nothing held back.

—There you are. I’ve been so worried.—

His voice drifts along the Grid, and another upsurge of strength hits me, as if I’ve just ingested another vial of manna.

Love is Light, Light is love.

—I’m rememberin’— He goes quiet. Then a gasp flows over the Grid. —I’m remembering every precious second with you. Before our bond and after. Meetin’ you in Prynne. Bein’ fascinated by your strength, courage and loyalty. Cravin’ you more than air to breathe. Oh, Ten. I’m so sorry. I wish I could go back and change the things I’ve done.—

He remembers. Because he did his part—trusted me— and I did my part, letting him back into my heart?

My eyes widen. Of course. His memories were never dependent on him. Not totally. We were joined. Two had become one. I had to trust him, too. I had to let my love for him overcome…everything. Just like he had to let his love for me overcome everything.

We are two halves of a whole. Complete together.

Joyous, I push my voice to him. —If you could go back and change anything, we might not be where we are now, and we are right where we need to be.—

With one hand, he thrusts and parries a sword; with the other, he fires a gun. Around him, soldiers fall. —You want me tae stop fightin’, lass?—

In the past, I told him not to put down his weapons. Today? —Don’t you dare.— These people will go to Many Ends. I believe it more surely than ever. Troikans go to the Rest. Myriadians must go to Many Ends.

If spirits who experienced Second-death can leave the Rest, spirits who experienced Second-death can leave Many Ends.

Soon, I’ll be in Many Ends, too. I’ll guide everyone to the exit. Like Reed and Kayla, they will be free to choose their path. Stay in Myriad, or pledge allegiance to Troika. No need for court.

Hello, beautiful loophole.

While Trokian covenants are eternal, Myriadian covenants last only until Second-death. Ambrosine’s choice. I wonder why. To sustain his lie about Fusion? Maybe shadows die at Second-death. Or maybe they move from the dead to the living. No matter the reason, if a person is not a channel of darkness any longer, they are no longer of use to him.

My mind is worked into a frenzy of questions and answers, probabilities and possibilities. Can the spirits inside the Rest be freed, as well? Not just one a year, but all of them? If they want to leave, that is. My guess? Yes. Eron could open a door… Would he?

As Clay helps me to my feet, I catch a glimpse of Lina, whose gaze is locked on Killian. She’s fighting her way toward him. I stiffen.

“Guard Killian from my aunt,” I tell Biscuit. “Without actually hurting her. If possible.” He can zip across the distance in a blink. When he opens his mouth to protest, I add, “Keeping Killian safe keeps me safe.”

My sweet, protective dog offers no arguments and bounds over. The number of soldiers fighting against us has dwindled, but I can hear a new thunder of footsteps in the distance.

“What next?” Clay asks me. “How do we get into Many Ends from here?”

When last I exited, I’d dived into a lake in Many Ends and fallen through the Veil overhead. Now I glance up, up, up. Zero! How are we supposed to climb into the sky?

—We’ll find a way.— Again Killian’s voice fills my head. He’s reading my emotions, the impending sense of defeat.

“Look out!” Clay shouts.

A contingent of soldiers has slipped around Killian and Raanan, and is heading for Archer and Dior. I rush to meet them, swinging my swords together, creating a staff. As the metal arcs through the air, bolts of Light spray. The contingent falls, one by one. The group of men and women behind them simply steps over the bodies and fires different weapons at me.

I use the staff to deflect the bullets, but it isn’t long before I’m clipped in the shoulder. Lifeblood leaks from the wound, and my motions slow. Zero! How much longer can we hold off this new army?

Once again, I need help. Scanning…scanning… My aunt has given up her quest to reach Killian. She comes up behind the next set of soldiers and pelts the group with a spray of automatic fire. More bodies fall. Or perhaps Lina never meant to hurt Killian? She could have shot him and Biscuit in a single swoop.

“The next round of soldiers will be the end of us,” she calls, her gaze locked on mine. “Not because they’ll kill us, but because they’ll lock us away. If we’re locked away, we’ll lose.”

Nausea churns in my stomach. “Clay, can you contact Clementine and transport back to Troika?”

“I don’t know. She and Kayla are supposed to be waiting at the Eye, but since my arrival in Myriad, they haven’t responded to any of my messages.”

The Eye sees into the Land of the Harvest but not Myriad. Through it, Headhunters are able to monitor humans and Laborers, and pull Laborers out of dangerous situations whenever necessary—and no Bucklers have been engaged, of course.

“Get home however you can, then,” I tell him, blocking the parry of another soldier. “You and the others. Gather the other Conduits. Make more. As many as you can. Guard the Veil of Wings in case the Myriadians bound to Killian think to risk—”