Everlife (Everlife #3)

Sadness glitters in his eyes. “Minutes after we arrived, he was taken by a horde of the ugliest birds in creation.”

Tears well in her eyes and spill down Ten’s cheeks. Tremors rock her. Then she lifts her chin and clears her throat. “Well. It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters here. All will be well, everyone freed. We’ll save him, along with everyone else. We will.”

“We will,” I agree. Nothing will stop us.

“Victor is here, too, but he was taken by a horrendous-looking monkey-spider thing,” Archer says.

“Victor?” I demand.

Archer’s nod is wooden, his teeth clenched. “I killed him before I died.”

“What about Biscuit?” Ten asks, gazing around the garden as tension radiates from her. “Is he here?”

“No,” Archer says, and she expels a relieved breath. “He made it out of Myriad.”

“Thank the Firstking.” She pulls from Archer’s hold to hug Reed, Raanan and Dior, who she clings to longest.

“I’m so sorry,” Dior says.

“I know,” Ten replies.

“I never meant for him to—”

“I know,” Ten repeats.

Him. They must mean Levi Nanne, a Troikan General, now deceased. Both girls loved and respected him, maybe even considered him a father figure. But he died trying to save Dior from Myriad and the horrible covenant I tricked her into accepting.

Guilt slithers through me, wraps around my neck like a boa constrictor, and squeezes. Our every action has a consequence. Not just for the people involved, but for innocents, as well.

Perhaps we can save Levi, too, just like we’re going to save the souls in Many Ends. The Unsigned can leave this subrealm. Myriadians should be able to leave, as well; we’ll soon find out, one way or another. Ten thinks so, or we wouldn’t be here. Troikan spirits can exit the Rest, absolutely, no question. Archer is proof.

In a perfect world, everyone escapes and becomes one big happy family.

Hey, stranger things have happened.

It’s time I make amends with the family I already have. And these people are my family. They helped me when no one else would so much as spit on me if I was lit on fire.

“I’m sorry, Dior,” I say. “I have no excuse tae offer for my past actions.”

As her dark gaze finds me, shame claws at my mind. Because of me, this girl suffered greatly. She planned to make covenant with Troika and spend her eternity with Archer. Their love had been evident, even back then.

When Dior’s father had a heart attack, I seized the opportunity to defeat my former friend. I told Dior I would ensure good ole dad walked out of the hospital, but only if she made covenant with Myriad right then and there—and made no adjustments to the contract I offered.

She agreed, and I did as promised, using shadows to convince the man he felt better. But the moment, the very second her father walked through those hospital doors, fulfilling my commitment, I took the shadows away. He died in an instant, the stress of his movements too much for his fragile body.

By then, it was too late for Dior. She’d already signed the worst covenant imaginable.

As a med student, she was supposed to help humans from both realms, and yet, her contract ensured she would face punishment every time she helped a Troikan.

Horrible of me, yes. At the time, I told myself I was saving Dior from Ambrosine’s wrath. He’d wanted the girl killed so that he could use her against his unfaithful son. I made sure there was a reason to keep her alive: her continued torment. But I’d lied to myself. Back then, jealousy had seethed inside me. Resentment, too. Archer had left me behind, scarring me for life, and yet he got to enjoy his future? No!

Something in my chest tightens. I do not deserve Dior’s forgiveness, but I lift my chin and repeat, “I’m sorry for everything I did to you. If it helps, I was banned from Ambrosine’s presence for ensurin’ yer torment rather than yer death, and placed under Madame Pearl Bennett’s care.”

“It doesn’t help.”

No, I don’t suppose it does. My gaze moves to Archer. “I’m sorry.” I mean the words with every fiber of my being.

Dior continues to peer at me, her stare unwavering as tremors rack her. “I want to hold a grudge against you, I really, really do. You used my dream of becoming a doctor against me.”

“I understand,” I tell her. Truth. Some mistakes you can’t recover from.

“But I need forgiveness, too.” She pulls from Ten to lean into Archer’s side. “How can I withhold from you what I seek from others?”

Archer doesn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around her waist. The two share a look so loaded with tension the air around them heats. The air around us all heats. Awareness crackles.

“You’re together together?” Ten asks, fanning her cheeks.

Archer rolls his eyes. “We haven’t had time to discuss all the details yet, Nosey, but thanks for inserting yourself into our relationship.”

Ten pretends to tip a hat. “Anytime.”

“If he’ll have me,” Dior says, “I’ll stay with him always.”

Now Archer beams, as bright as the sun. “Oh, I’ll have you all right. Again and again and again…”

A rosy blush paints over her cheeks, and he chuckles.

Just like that, a small fraction of my guilt eases. Archer deserves a happily-ever-after with the girl he loves. Finally he’s on the right track.

Reed and Raanan pretend to gag.

“Enough making me sick. Time for medicine.” Reed pulls leaves from the Tree of Life and passes them out to his crew.

As everyone eats, gashes weaving back together, bruises fading, I twine my fingers with Ten’s. Touching her isn’t a compulsion but a necessity. To my delight, she melts against me and rests her head on my shoulder. The sweetness of her scent envelops me. But the best part? Her scent is mixed with mine.

Satisfaction and contentment shimmer inside of me, new and wonderful. Why did I ever want to resist her? Why did I even try? With her, I’ve always been doomed to fail.

“What’s our next move?” Archer asks. His gaze moves from Ten to Reed, concern darkening his expression. “You guys are the only ones who have been here before.”

“Before Aunt Lina killed me,” Ten says, “she told me to find the doorway, and I would save the day. Check. Killian and I took care of that just a little while ago. Then she said something about hills having eyes, so everyone will die, and if I wanted to win the fight, I would have to use Light.”

Reed pales. “The hills. With eyes.”

“Uh, I’ve seen that movie,” Raanan says, and shudders. “Spoiler alert. We’re all going to die.”

“I lived here for years, but never dared venture into the hills. For good reason.” Reed rubs a fist over his heart, as if the organ is in the midst of a panic attack. “The screams you hear—they come from there.”

If the hills are where spirits are being kept, well, that’s where we need to be. Wonderful. “We’ve got tae get our hands on weapons.”

“Weapons. Right.” Nibbling on her bottom lip, Ten searches the ground. “Problem. There are no fallen branches here.”

No branches, no weapons. And venturing outside this fantastical haven to search for branches would be foolish. Everything outside this area is covered in bugs and poison.

“No, there aren’t. Nothing dies in this little paradise.” Reed sighs. “And don’t try to pull anything down. It doesn’t work, only gets you slapped.”

Slapped? As if the tree is sentient?

Sentient = aware. I scratch my jaw and say, “Why don’t we ask the tree for limbs?” The idea wafts through my mind, as if whispered into my ear by an invisible friend. The Grid? Maybe, but not the Grid I’m used to dealing with. Something is different.

Raanan laughs. “Aren’t you adorable? Ask a tree? Afterward we can talk to the dirt.”

“Well, why not ask a tree?” Dior spreads her arms wide. “I’m sure we’ve all had worse conversations with people.”