Everlife (Everlife #3)

“When they attack, and they will, go for the throat, the only vulnerable part of their bodies,” I tell him.

At least we aren’t dealing with the monkey-spiders. (No relation to spider monkeys in the Land of the Harvest.) The creatures here have the bottom half of a toddler-size spider, with eight hairy legs tipped by ivory hooks, and the top half of a monkey with two heads. A nightmare and freak show rolled into one.

I could win the idiot of the year award, right? I mean, I wanted to return to this land and actively fought to get here.

One amazing development? The shadows no longer rule my mind. There isn’t even a glimmer of darkness. As soon as I “woke up” in Many Ends, I opened doors inside the Grid, letting Light spill out, sending whatever shadows that remained fleeing. But it was then, that very moment, that my connection to the Grid and my bond to Killian faded.

Focus. I’m already cut and bruised from my trek to Killian, not to mention the fight I had with the spirits of soldiers who died seconds before and after me. Something I opted not to tell Killian. I’d rather he not get angry with the men and women, boys and girls we’re here to save.

Save… The word rolls through my mind, reminding me of my aunt’s newest rhyme.

Find the doorway, save the day. If the hills have eyes, everyone dies. To win the fight, you’ll need Light.

The doorways. Okay, then. They are invisible…mostly. Glittering pockets of air lead to entirely new locations within Many Ends. If we go through one now, we’ll be transported away from our new opponents. And we have to get away from the gorillas. We have to reach the Tree of Life. There’s only one in the entire realm, and it produces…something.

Something akin to manna, maybe. Definitely not ambrosia, despite Many End’s connection to Myriad. Whatever it is—I’m just gonna go with manna—the creatures here avoid it. Its leaves have the power to heal and strengthen us, and even protect us from the harsh realities of the landscape.

In Many Ends, there is sunshine and there is darkness, but both are warped. The sunshine is too hot, scorching everyone and everything in its path, and the darkness is too thick. In the cool shade, we can take time to heal, regroup and figure out our next move.

Zero! There’s no time to look for one of the doorways.

With a war cry, the gorillas converge on us, swinging their mighty fists.

Killian—

Dang him! He trips me, at the same time spinning me out of the way. As I crash into the ground, he meets round one with my branch, but the wood swiftly snaps in half.

I want to slap myself. I selected the branch because it was light enough to carry while we were on the move, but also because few insects were crawling along the surface. In Many Ends, the insects inject toxins meant to slow a spirit down for a second or two.

A single second can win or lose a battle.

Killian is fast, and he is methodical. He ducks when necessary and punches when the opportunity arises. So do I. I pop up, nail a gorilla in the throat, and dive back down.

At this rate, we’re going to lose.

“Run, lass.” Killian spins before shoving me to the ground, his body enveloping me. “Please.” Pop, pop. He hisses, and I cringe. POP. The sound of his bones breaking.

Without our bond, his injuries are his own. That can be worked to our favor. But—

The realization hits me as hard as the gorillas are hitting Killian. He said please. Over this. To him, pleading for anything is begging for something.

Melting…

Focus! Right. But come on! As if I’ll ever leave him behind simply to save my own hide.

Determined, I crawl between a gorilla’s legs, escaping the circle of doom. Wasting no time, I jump on the back of the gorilla, jam my thumbs into his eye sockets and pop out both of his eyes. Cruel. Necessary.

He roars and raises his arms to beat at me. I hop down and swipe up the two pieces of the broken branch. Standing, I swing at another gorilla. Whack, whack. One slap of a branch after another. Impact jars me, not him, and I stumble back.

Slowly he turns to face me and give me a death glare. Without hesitation, I strike, jabbing the end of one branch into his throat. When he hunches over, desperate for air, I knock him in the side of the head with the other branch. He careens, toppling into the beast next to him. As that one turns, I jab him in the throat, too, with enough force to crush his windpipe.

Killian is forgotten, every gorilla concentrating on me. And why not? Killian is no threat, his face cut and bleeding, his body motionless as it sprawls on the ground, his hand sticking out between their legs—reaching for me?

Please, please, please be only unconscious, because I’m not sure where your spirit will reform.

“Cowards,” I spit. “Takes six of you to kill two spirits, does it? You’re that weak?”

Understanding darkens their eyes. So. Like the animals in Troika, communication is a skill.

Talents for their resumes: Comprehends English, eats people.

A twitch of Killian’s fingers. He’s waking up! Okay, okay. Time to get this show on the road. Killian needs to escape the circle, so, I need to keep attention away from him.

I twirl the branches and smile. “Well. Come on, cowards. Show me what you’ve got.”

Roars. Three of the beasts dive at me. At the last second, I duck. They soar overhead, knocking into fellow soldiers. As those soldiers protest, Killian yanks at the ankles of the creature who remained behind to beat him, then pops to his feet. Lifeblood soaks his face. His gaze is narrowed, his irises fierce and glittering. Despite a wealth of injuries, he’s never looked more beautiful.

In a single, fluid move, he takes a gorilla by the neck and twists, breaking the spine. Despite his own broken bones, he kicks out his leg, punting another gorilla to the side.

I give the stumbling gorilla an extra whack, and a path opens up. Killian limps my way, grabs my wrist and pulls me forward.

“We need to find a doorway, fast,” I pant, searching for one of those glittering air pockets…searching…

As a chorus of roars sounds behind us, I spot what we need and tug Killian in the right direction. Unsure where we’ll end up, we soar through a doorway—

Between one blink and the next, I’m with Killian and then I’m alone, right back where I started. Zero!

I’m certain he ended up in the spot where I first found him. If I go back for him—when I go back—we’ll encounter the same problems as before. I must be better armed. Problem is, there’s a lack of viable weapons.

In Many Ends, every inch, tree and creature is designed to hinder the spirits trapped within. There are thousands of discarded branches, each with sharp ends, but poisonous bugs crawl all over the best ones. There are trees with grooves all over their trunks, offering the perfect footholds, but poisonous sludge drips from each one. And let’s not forget the fact that the leaves are like the Venus Flytrap, with razor-sharp teeth.

The air is dry, hotter than hot, my sweat doing little to cool me. Screams of anguish continue to fill the air, soon joined by wails of agony and moans of pain. A snakes slithers past me, then pauses to stick out its tongue and taste the air. Its forked tongue. At the same time, ember-bugs buzz around me; every time they touch me, I blister.

In the distance, a crack of thunder sounds, and I cringe. Zero! A rain shower will cool the air and drive away the insects and monsters—but every drop will burn like acid.

I need to—

Whoosh! Something hard slams into the back of my head, and the pain is excruciating. I stumble forward, barely managing to prevent a dirt kiss. Footsteps—thump, thump, thump.

Despite a bout of dizziness, I spin, and kick out my leg. Contact. My attacker grunts. He’s a man—a spirit—not a gorilla. Probably one of the soldiers who died in battle today.

I swing my branch, forcing him to jump back. “Stop this,” I pant. “To survive this realm, we’ve got to work together.”