Lifeblood (Everlife #2)

Clay keeps me updated on Dior. She’s doing well. And so is he. I expected tears when he learned about Meredith’s death, but he remained unaffected. “I’ll see her again,” he told me. “This isn’t goodbye.”


As the days pass, strangers in the street stop me to ask me who I want to win the Resurrection. Every time I answer with an uninspiring, “I don’t know.” I can’t think about me, me, me anymore; I have to think about my realm. What’s best for the people who so loved my grandmother?

When another battle breaks out in the Land of the Harvest—again over Dior’s boyfriend—I’m told to stay behind. I obey.

We experience a crushing defeat, more of our brave soldiers killed and Javier taken away from us.

Elizabeth returns from the battle injured.

Victor doesn’t return at all.

We search among the dead but find no trace of him. Leaders and Headhunters use the Eye to search for a signal from his comm, but again, there’s no trace of him. Has he been forcibly unhooked from the Grid? Where is he? Is he okay?

I hate that I can’t do more for him. For anyone!

“I don’t understand how he can just disappear,” Kayla says, her worry feeding my own.

I try to remain positive. “We’ll find him.” We must. He’s a valued member of our team.

“How?” she demands.

“I don’t know, but we won’t stop until we succeed.” I’ve also studied how to unhook from the Grid and/or vanish from the Eye. There are only three known ways. 1) Shove a hot poker through the comm. Without manna, it won’t heal. While it’s damaged, you’re off the Grid. 2) Surround yourself with a Buckler. Apparently there are degrees of thickness, and some stop all forms of communication and tracking. 3) Go to court and defect to Myriad.

My guess? Victor is a prisoner of war, and his comm has been purposely damaged. He’s probably being starved and tortured for information.

This newest defeat... I burn with helplessness.

Lockdown.

My dreams remain the same. I’m saved from a horde of skeleton birds when I concentrate on Killian, and a mass of people surround me, begging for help. Last night I began to recognize their faces. All the Troikans who have died in battle. Archer. Meredith. So many others. They are joined by all the Troikans who could die in battle if I remain static.

Frustrated, I head to the coliseum for my next training session. Levi is preoccupied and commands me to run—and run and run—as if I’m part of a marathon. By the third hour, I’m pretty sure he’s forgotten I’m nearby. I’m drenched in sweat, every muscle in my body burning and trembling. But I don’t stop. I push myself until I collapse right there in the sand.

Finally he closes the distance. He stands at my side, my swords clutched in his hands.

I look away from them. “You broke into my apartment, I see.” I’d hidden the weapons under my coffee table, not wanting to be reminded of the deeds I’d committed with them.

“Yes. You’re welcome.”

“What are they, exactly? They turned a spirit into stone and sprayed flaming metal into crowds of people.”

“No, they sprayed pure light, not metal. The swords are known as the Blessing and Cursing. One offers a second chance. The other offers instant judgment. Both offer protection to the one who wields them.”

Um... “How do you tell which is which? How does a weapon offer a second chance or judgment? Are they sentient? For that matter, how did Archer acquire them?”

“The Secondking gifted the swords to Archer for successfully completing a mission. They aren’t sentient but an extension of you. Everything you need to know about the Blessing and Cursing can be found on the Grid, in a special room only their owner can unlock. Even without decoding her Key.”

Really?

“Go ahead. Give it a try.”

I do. I close my eyes and concentrate on the Grid, just as Meredith did when she searched for all the places she’d hidden her Light.

My chin trembles.

Lockdown!

A glowing crimson river flows in the back of my mind, reminding me of the waterfall in front of the Veil of Wings...and the water flowing from the second throne. That water rushes toward me, rising up, up, and finally sweeping me away.

I’m carried to a door and placed on my feet as the water drains. The door glows, beckoning me closer. Excitement sparks as I twist the knob...in an instant, a stream of data floods my mind. A vast sea. I cringe. Too much! But suddenly I understand why I have to work to decode my Key. I have to be ready for what I learn.

I concentrate on the barest facts.

The Blessing offers a do-over. A second chance, wiping away one set of deeds to make way for a new choice.

The Cursing causes the condition of the heart to manifest in the body. If a heart is as hard as stone—figuratively speaking—the body turns to stone. If a heart is an inferno of hate, the body burns to ash.

“All right. You’ve been buried inside your head for over an hour,” Levi says, pulling me from my thoughts. “Time to practice with the swords.”

Over an hour? He’s got to be kidding.

He wasn’t kidding. My knees are the consistency of pudding as I rise.

He hands me the swords and shows me how to twirl my wrists. At first, I drop the weapons more than I twirl them, but I continue until I can smoothly swing the two in opposite directions.

“Good,” he says. “You also need to learn how to connect the pair. A staff doesn’t get trapped in bone, and it has a much longer range. You can take out more people at once.”

Right. I slide the swords together, and the center locks. As I twirl the staff—far more clumsily—the outer casing grows hot...almost too hot. Definitely too hot. Literal flames crackle at the ends. My eyes widen. Despite the heat, my hands remain uninjured...until I shift my thumb out of the handhold. One of the flames licks over my skin, blistering me.

Hissing, I drop the staff. The flames vanish.

Levi grins. “I’ve got to get me one of those.”

I snatch up the weapon, surprised to find the metal is already cool. “Mine.” My sore muscles protest the action, but not by word or deed do I reveal my pain. The moment I do, I suspect Levi will call a halt to the session.

Teach me more! Teach me everything!

He snickers at me. “What of generosity, Miss Lockwood?”

“I’ll think about saving your life with my weapon. Can’t get more generous than that.”

As he chuckles, a shadow falls over us. I spin and spot—

Deacon. A smiling Deacon.

Have I entered Bizzaro world? Last time we were together, he gave me the stinky boot.

“I hear you killed an entire contingent of Myriad soldiers,” he says to me. “Good job.”

I bite my tongue until I taste the sweetness of my Lifeblood. Cannot talk about Killian. Cannot admit the truth. I change the subject. “Where have you been?”

His smile slips. “I was part of a select group guarding Javier. During the last battle, I had a chance to escort him to a new safe house, but he refused. At that point, I could do nothing to help him without violating his free will.”

“How is he?” Levi asks.