Everlife (Everlife #3)

My mother is in one of these mountains. One of these nests. Ten’s mother, too. Aunts, uncles and cousins I never knew. Colleagues I lost in battle.

None of the victims notice me, too lost in their pain. For most, limbs are missing. For some, bones have been picked clean. Torsos are cut open, organs missing, just like the image I saw inside my head. My gaze scans, searching for my mother. She—

I tense as my gaze collides with Sloan. She’s here, trapped inside this mountain. My stomach churns. She’s awake, though pieces of her heart are missing. One of her legs stops at the knee.

She opens her mouth to speak. Or scream. I’m not sure which. Either way, she’s too weak. No sound emerges.

The bird releases me. I tumble through the air before landing in a nest of my own, a single tier down from Sloan. In an instant, thorns stab and snare me. Black vines reach out to wrap around my neck, wrists and ankles, rendering me immobile.

A bird in the nest next to mine spots me, looks at his own meal—a little bit of muscle left on a skull—and decides I’ll make a tastier treat. He hops over, but my captor dives into him, and the two fall from the tier. They plummet down, down, pecking and clawing at each other along the way.

I struggle against my restraints, old wounds bleeding more—faster. New wounds tear open, and weakness sets in. I do not stop. Thoughts of escaping, of doing everything possible to clear the way for Ten, drive me. Those turtle things…how can I force them from the hills?

“Killian.” Sloan’s voice. Weak, thready. “Don’t fight… makes worse…”

Must!

Accepting abuse isn’t in my wheelhouse. But all too soon, my captor returns. Though his skull possesses no eyes, he seems to stare straight at me, and he radiates hate and hunger.

He squawks with triumph at the sky—before using the tip of his beak to slice open my chest cavity and tear off a piece of my heart. The pain! A scream bubbles my throat, but I swallow it back. Screaming is too much like begging.

The bird takes another bite, and another. Not just pain, agony. Darkness closes in…welcome darkness…

I’m not sure how much times passes before my eyelids crack open, consciousness jarring me. One moment I’m blissful, lost in dreams of Ten, the next I’m aware of my throbbing head, and the torment wracking the rest of me. A chorus of sobs.

At first, my surroundings are blurry. Blink, blink. As my vision clears, I look around with dry, burning eyes. My captor is gone. So are all the other birds. A welcome miracle.

I look at my body, distressed by the thought of what I might find. Elation sparks. My limbs are still attached, and bits of my heart remain. I’m only missing a kidney and a section of bowel.

Only. A near hysterical laugh escapes. How sad is it that I’m elated only a kidney and bowel were eaten?

“Killian.”

A weak voice sounds from above me. Lifting my head proves difficult, pulling against the thorns still embedded in my neck, but I do it. My gaze lands on Sloan. She’s leaning out of her nest, her skin ashen, her cheeks sunken.

“You died,” she says, her lip trembling. “How?”

One of her tears splashes on to my forehead. “Long story.” And I’m not sure I have the strength to tell it. “Where are the birds?”

“Yours retched after feeding from you and flew off. Nothing like that has ever happened before, and most of the others followed him.”

I’ve been saved from round two of torture. But for how long?

“I wish I had a way to save you,” she says, her voice breaking as if she’s fighting tears. “No one has ever found a way. Some of these people have been here for decades.”

Decades. Of this. What’s sad is, I’m sure there are millions of spirits who have been here longer.

Will I be one of them?

No way. Ten has never let me down, and she never will.

“We’re going tae be rescued,” I say. “Help is on the way.”

Hope glimmers in her blue eyes. “Ten is coming for us?”

“She is.”

The corners of Sloan’s mouth lift. “If anyone can save us…”

“She can. She will.” I have faith.





MYRIAD



From: H_S_3/51.3.6

To: Z_C_4/23.43.2

Subject: Prepare your army

Also, prepare our Abrogates in Myriad as well as the Land of the Harvest. Troikan soldiers are headed this way. It’s on like Donkey Kong!

Might Equals Right!

General Hans Schmidt





MYRIAD



From: Z_C_4/23.43.2

To: H_S_3/51.3.6

Subject: We have a problem, sir I’ve just learned some distressing news. One of our subjects—Lina Lockwood, Tenley’s aunt—has bonded to a Troikan General. He’s the one we captured. Alejandro Torres. The two are now missing. How would you like me to proceed?

Might Equals Right!

Sir Zhi Chen





MYRIAD



From: H_S_3/51.3.6

To: Z_C_4/23.43.2

Subject: Forget them

There’s nothing they can do to stop us. They’re a distraction, nothing more. Proceed as commanded, and focus on annihilating the incoming army.

Might Equals Right!

General Hans Schmidt





chapter twenty-eight



“Some lies are more necessary than oxygen.”

—Myriad

Ten

Time is running out. Energy, too. We’ve been following Killian’s trail, without a single break, only pausing to fight when challenged by a monster, plant or insect. We win. Every time, we win, but every battle takes something from us. A little hope. A little strength.

I’ve been counting the minutes inside my head, and we are a mere two hours away from the reset of the realm. Aka 120 minutes. Aka 7,200 seconds. That means he’s been with the birds for twenty-two hours. Aka 1,320 minutes. Aka 79,200 seconds. He could have been tortured and killed multiple times already.

If we fail to find him in time…

We can’t fail.

I’m tense as we stumble this way and that. Trees hiss, and leaves snap their razor sharp teeth, but nothing else challenges us. Maybe word has spread. Try to stop us, die.

Up ahead, a lavender leaf glows. The next beacon. One more step closer to Killian.

I’ve pocketed every leaf he’s dropped. When we find him, he’s going to need an infusion of strength.

Urgency burns inside me, and I quicken my pace. The others follow without objection. Finally we make it out of the forest, and enter a clearing without trees. Ahead looms a dry and barren landscape, mist, and—I gasp. Mist clears, revealing hills. So many hills.

We did it!

With a whoop, we rush forward…only to stop when we’re roughly five hundred yards from the first hill. What looks to be black tar is smeared over the ground. Thousands of… alligators? Kind of. There are differences. These creatures, whatever they are, form a circle around each of the leaves that lead to one particular hill.

“What are those things?” I ask, pointing to the creatures.

“Kayla and I used to call them land sharks,” Reed says. “At the first scent or sight of Lifeblood, they erupt into a frenzy.”

“Don’t worry.” Archer eyes the creatures as if he’s hungry and could use a snack. “I’ll distract them.”

He wants to avenge Dior’s death, and I understand. A good portion of his Light died with her. Now he hopes to join her, wherever she is. And she is somewhere. I will believe nothing less.

I reach out, take his hand, and squeeze. “You’ll get her back, Bow. We’ll find Killian, then we’ll find a way to free the spirits.”

“We can free the spirits if we figure out a way to do something no other ordinary citizen has done since the dawn of time,” he grates.

“We’ve already done something no other ordinary citizen has done,” I remind him. “We are Troikans, and we entered Many Ends. And did you ever think you’d see Killian Flynn happily married? Face it. I’m a miracle worker.”

One corner of his mouth twitches, some of his tension easing. “I never thought I’d see Killian Flynn married, period.”