Lifeblood (Everlife #2)

I want to thank him.

“What about Clay?” I rip the hem of my shirt and press the material into Levi’s side.

With another hiss, he takes possession of the cloth to maintain pressure on his wound. “Killian and Deacon found and freed him before joining the battle. Apparently there are Troikan sympathizers inside Myriad. Clay helped them fight outside the walls.”

Killian kept his promise to me, finding my friend and bringing him home.

A promise kept is a star in the darkest of nights. A bridge between us. A bridge no one will ever be able to destroy.

I tell Levi everything that happened. Kayla’s betrayal. Victor’s plots and plans. Sadness fills his eyes.

“What will happen to Kayla? If she survives?” I ask. Punishment? Banishment?

“The Secondking will decide.”

“And Victor? What will happen to him?”

“His covenant has been broken, his grace period over. He’ll be banished. He wanted Myriad, he can have Myriad.”

My hope is that he is haunted by the kindnesses shown to him today—and every day he lived here—that he realizes he lost a prize.

“Our realm...” I say.

Levi heaves a sigh. “We have much to rebuild.”

Much is an understatement. “And the casualties?”

“I would say they are too numerous to count, but I’m sure you’ll find a way.”

I have no humor to spare. I dig my fingers into the ground, dirt sinking under my nails. “How was Myriad able to do this?”

“They distracted us with smaller battles in the Land of the Harvest, dividing our focus while launching a bigger battle on our own soil.” He pauses, sighs again. “You did well today, Miss Lockwood. You saw past your emotions, putting the needs of others above your own wants. I’m proud of you.”

A hard lump clogs my throat.

Through the Grid, a Light brighter than any other shines. My cells sizzle and snap with new life. Strength blooms inside me, a rose opening for the sun. I’m no longer slumped over but sitting up straight.

The princess! She is energizing me. No, not just me but all of us. Levi is sitting straighter, as well.

“One day,” he says, “you will be able to do that. As for this...we will overcome. We have been knocked down, but we won’t stay down.” He stands and offers me a hand, helping me to my feet. “Today we salvage.”

We take different Gates and Stairwells through the realm. The Capital of New, the Baths of Restoration and the House of Secrets sustained the most damage.

For the next several hours, we dig through the rubble, searching for survivors. The other Generals work alongside us, and so do the newbies. Old and young have come together as one.

The jagged rocks cut my hands, and I lose a couple of nails, but as we find survivors, my determination is renewed and I continue on. At some point, Deacon joins us. He’s covered in soot and grime and there’s a bruise on his jawline, but he’s steady.

A little while later, someone taps my shoulder, startling me. I turn to find Clay and launch into his open arms. He hugs me tight, as if I’m the only life raft in the middle of a typhoon.

When we part, he chucks me under the chin. “Why didn’t the two fours feel like eating dinner?”

How much do I love this boy! “Because they already ate. Sorry, I mean eight.” I press my forehead against the center of his chest. “I’m happy you’re alive and well.”

He gives me another hug. “I wish you could have seen Killian. He swooped in, armed and dangerous. Slayed and took names. No one could stop him.”

That’s my guy.

A door opens in the Grid, and I see Archer’s beautiful face. My tears return.

I whisper, “Today we will mourn, but new strength will be born. For those who have fallen, we will not be downtrodden. We will rise and we will shine, and in the sand we will draw a line. We will fight for what we believe, and to our hope we will cleave. Victory will be ours, and in the darkness, we will glitter like stars.”

Archer offers me a sad smile.

Clay frames my face with his hands, lifting my head to kiss my temple. “The past is in the past, where it belongs, and the future awaits us...but there’s something else we need to discuss.”

Archer snorts. “Tell him he sucks.”

I laugh and say, “Not bad.”

“Thank you.” Clay wipes a tear from my cheek. “I hunted you down to deliver a bit of good news. Kayla’s awake, and she wants to see us.”

*

While half of the Sanatorium is in perfect condition, the other half is destroyed. Triage tents have been set up around the rubble, Healers doing everything they can to save the injured.

Kayla has a gurney in back of the tent farthest from the others. She’s propped up on a mound of pillows. The enclosure holds fourteen other patients, some missing limbs, some thrashing in pain.

War is never pretty.

Levi beat us here. He’s sitting in a chair next to her bed, holding her hand. The two haven’t noticed us; they’re too focused on each other.

“Did I...did I lose my citizenship?” Her voice trembles. There’s a bandage between her eyes, hiding her wound.

“No, Miss Brooks. You didn’t lose your citizenship. You simply lost your way.”

The words surprise me, even though part of me expected to hear them. Levi is the epitome of the Troikan way of life. He doesn’t tell us the path to walk; he shows us. And this...this is what changes people for the better. Unconditional love.

A sob bubbles from her. “I’m so stupid. I never should have believed—” Her gaze lands on me, and she sobs again, sobs so hard she can no longer speak coherently.

Levi stands. Though his dark hair is in complete disarray, he’s wearing a clean shirt. He pats my shoulder as he passes me, and says, “Give compassion, receive compassion.”

Then he’s gone. I take his place at Kayla’s bedside, and to my amazement, it’s not resentment or anger I feel but pity and compassion. I could just as easily have been the one to turn on my friends. The only difference is, I placed my trust in someone deserving; she didn’t.

“I’m so, so sorry,” she chokes out.

“I forgive you,” I say, and not because she’s apologized. I forgive her because I refuse to give hate a place in my life. Hate carried Victor to his disastrous end. Hate drove Myriad to attack a realm where innocent children played.

She only sobs harder.

On the other side of her bed, Clay pulls up a chair. “Enough blubbering like a baby.” His tone is stern and unbending. Un-Clay-like. “You made a mistake. Who hasn’t? Use the mistake as a tutor, learn from it, and move on.”

“P-people died.” She wipes at her tears with trembling hands. “I helped kill... I’m a murderer.”