“As long as there’s breath, there’s hope.”
—Troika
Ten
Raanan reaches the top first, only to rear back, nearly falling down the side of the hill. As every muscle in his body seems to clench, he drops to his knees. The color drains from his cheeks.
“What is it?” Archer demands. He reaches the top next—
And has the same reaction.
My stomach churns. What do they see?
“Help me,” I plead, stretching out my arm.
Archer’s eyes are pools of shock when he faces me. He takes my hand and hoists me to the top of the hill. A ledge. The inside of the hill has been hollowed out and—
Air wheezes between my teeth. There are thousands of nests, each one occupied by a person or two. Or really, the remains of a person or two. Moans and groans assault my ears.
I can’t… I don’t…
Where is Killian?
The scents of rot, punctured bowels and shredded bladders reach me, and my stomach stops churning in favor of heaving. I lurch forward to vomit. Bye-bye precious leaf. And so, so, sooooo sorry, person underneath me.
“We were right. No birds.” Raanan’s words blend with the anguished chorus.
I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and call, “Killian? Where are you?” What horrors has he endured?
A terrible pause as I wait, hoping, praying. What if his final leaf blew away from another mountain? The right mountain?
Finally I hear a weak and broken, “Lass.”
One word. Only one, but still my heart leaps. My gaze scans…
Oh, please, no. Killian is sprawled inside one of the nests, his chest cavity split down the center, exposing muscle, bone and multiple organs. I press a quavering hand over my mouth. Hot tears well in my eyes, spill down my cheeks; I feel like I’m crying rivers of acid.
“Just hang on, love.” My voice trembles. “We’re going to…” What? We’ve come so far, and Killian is down there, helpless. He needs me now more than ever. All of these people need me, but I don’t know what to do.
I glance at Archer, who is scanning the nests in search of Dior, just in case she reawakened here. I glance at Raanan, who is chalk white, staring at someone I’ve never met. I glance at the multitude of other victims. My gaze lands on a girl I don’t recognize—
I inhale sharply, my horror magnifying. I do recognize her. This is Sloan. Once luxurious blond hair is now tangled, caked with…things, and thinned out; she has bald spots, where birds have picked her scalp clean. One of her eyes is missing. And one of her legs.
She’s in worse shape than Killian.
Mouth drier by the second, I call, “Hang on just a little longer. We’re going to free you.” How? How can I keep my word?
A sob escapes her. Hope and relief glimmer in her remaining eye.
“Miss Lockwood.” A feeble voice catches my attention. “Please. Help me.”
I study the mass of faces…and find Dr. Vans, the former leader of Prynne, and once my greatest tormentor. Hatred pricks me, attempting to worm into my mind and heart, but I resist. Hatred = darkness. Darkness = weakness.
Bitterness will not poison me. Not again. No more shadows, please and thank you. I will do the right thing. Save one, save all. I can’t pick and choose.
Squawks sound in the distance. Stiffening, I whip around and spot large black clouds in the distance. No, not clouds. Birds. They are returning to their nests.
Panic showers me with ice, determined to slow me. Ruin me. “They’re coming.” And there are too many for three lone—exhausted—Troikans to fight.
“We’re in no shape to challenge them,” Raanan says. “Especially on their home turf.”
Archer squares his shoulders. “We have only one weapon capable of keeping those birds away. Our Light.”
Searching the Grid…searching…on the lookout for any rooms where extra Light might be stored. I find none, and my chest tightens. No Light, no hope. No hope, no victory. I call on my love for Killian and the others, but I’m tapped out. So weak.
I try to open one of the doors in the Grid, just in case, but none of the knobs will turn. I’m locked out?
—We’re here, Miss Lockwood, and we’re ready. Open your link to Killian, then your link to your fellow Troikans.—
The voice overtakes my mind, familiar and welcome. General Alejandro Torres. He’s alive, and he’s…here, in Many Ends? But… I’m not bonded to him like I am to my friends.
—What do you mean, you’re here?— Though I’m speaking with Alejandro, I keep my gaze on the birds. Closer…
—I’m inside Myriad with your aunt. We’re bonded. It’s a long story best told when we have time. The other Generals are outside of Myriad. According to your guardian, Ambrosine planned to flood our Grid with shadows, weakening us. Now we’re going to use the Secondking’s plan against him and flood the Myriadian Grid with Light. The citizens will be weakened, my soldiers will enter the realm, and the final battle will be waged.—
Too much information to process, every bit startling. What strikes me with the most force? Alejandro is the General my aunt married.
Shock demands answers now, now, now, but he’s right. Later is better. Time is short, and this is everything I’ve wanted, wrapped up in a satin bow. This is help. Except, if the General is wrong, or this is a trick, I’ll expose everyone I love to Myriadian shadows. Exactly what I fought to prevent during Javier’s torture.
Closer still…
“Guess we have no other choice.” Raanan’s tone is resigned, as if he knows he’s going to die but plans to go down swinging. “Get ready to engage.”
There’s no time to think this through. I didn’t trust my team before, and it cost me dearly. I won’t make the same mistake again.
“Don’t fight, just trust me.” I grab both Archer’s and Raanan’s hands. “Concentrate on your bond to me while I concentrate on my bond to Killian.”
“If we stand here,” Archer says, “we’ll be—”
“Please,” I beg, and then I decide action is better than words. I close my eyes and do as promised, concentrating on my bond to Killian while dropping my shields.
Whoosh. One of the doors springs open of its own accord. That exact moment. Light floods me. Light from the people of Troika. Not just Alejandro and the Generals—so bright, nothing brighter—but Laborers and Leaders, Headhunters and Messengers, too.
My aches and pains vanish. Amazing warmth invades every inch of my body, then spills from me into my friends.
“Too much,” Raanan grates. “Too much for us to contain.”
I’ve experienced this before, when I cleansed Dior of her first case of Penumbra, only on a much smaller scale. “As Conduits, we have the power to share. So share it! Now!”
Just. Like. That. Light explodes from our pores. We’re lifted off our feet, held suspended by magnificent rays of Light.
We soar, shining, shining so brightly, empowered by Light, by love. We are warhorses, each of us, ready for battle, refusing to give up, even when the odds are stacked against us.
Nothing is impossible for us. Victory is ours. Victory will always be ours.
As quickly as the Light hit, it disappears. We collapse to the ground.
Panting, I blink open my eyes. I’m flat on my back, staring up at a bright Light that isn’t coming from the boys. No, it reminds me of a sunrise in the Land of the Harvest. For a moment, I imagine children playing in the streets, laughing together, ice cream melting in dirt-smudged hands.
Sitting up gingerly, I survey Many Ends and a fresh dose of shock saturates my cells. The birds are scattered on the ground—dead. Mermaids float atop the surface of the lake—dead. The hills are gone, the land flat, millions of people lying all around me. Missing limbs and organs have been replaced. Everyone is healed and whole!
Archer and Raanan remain at my sides. With a cry of happiness, we launch at each other and embrace. Tears pour down my cheeks.
Other people stir, realization quickly settling in. Then cheers ring out.
Spotting Erica, the girl who gave Killian his tattoos, I push through the crowd. “Have you seen Killian?” I have to yell to be heard.
“No, I’m sorry.” Eyes stark, she throws herself against me. “Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
“How did you get here?” I ask, pulling back. Business first. “Last I heard, you were in the Kennels.”
“After you and Killian bonded, all of Killian’s allies were gathered together and slaughtered, so he would have no one to rely on but Ambrosine.”
“Ten? Lass?”
Killian! Joy causes every cell in my body to dance.
He and Sloan maneuver around a group of girls. Too far. I run as fast as I can, and hurl myself into his waiting arms.
He buries his face into the hollow of my neck and breathes me in. “You did it, lass. You did it.”
“We did it. All of us, together.”
“The others? They made it?”
“Only Archer and Raanan.” Fighting concern for their fates, I take a moment to breathe in my husband’s peat smoke and heather scent. “But the rest are still alive, somewhere in this realm.” They must be. “Have you seen Clay, Reed or Dior? What about our mothers?”
“Not yet, but—”
Shake, shake.
We frown at each other as the shaking only intensifies. Overhead, dirt and debris begin to rain from the veil.
“I think Many Ends is crumbling.” Archer comes up behind me. “If we remain inside…”
I think I understand. This sub-realm grew to accommodate new arrivals. Now, because of the Light, it knows the residents will be leaving. Many Ends is shrinking.
No telling what will happen next. “Get everyone to the water,” I shout. “It’s our only way out.”