by G. P. Ching
“What did I do?” she asked.
Ravenguard didn’t answer. He unlocked one shackle and then the other. With her wrists pinned inside one hand, he lowered his lips to her bloodstained ear. “You get a five-minute head start. I suggest you run. I dare you to hide.” His voice was saccharine and sulfuric acid, dripping with evil anticipation. “You can sing if you want to, but Applegate and I can see through enchanter magic. The sound will only help us find you faster. Personally, I prefer a harder target.”
She struggled against him in the dark as something warm and wet stroked her ear. His tongue. He’d licked blood from the side of her face. Was he human or demon? She sensed human, but then why the taste for blood? A psychopath. A murderer.
His wicked laugh echoed in the small room. He released her wrists. “Run, little rabbit, run.”
Hope did not hesitate. Although her body was racked with pain, and her arms throbbed with the return of blood, she bolted out the door, stumbling across uneven ground in the direction of the nearest cover, the edge of a forest. Something sharp poked through her leather slipper and she hopped once to pull it from the side of her foot. A splintered bone. She paused, throwing the bone down. The ground was white. Bones. Skulls. Carnage stretched at least twenty feet in every direction. She was standing on a mass grave.
Her breath came in pants as she paused to assess her surroundings. In front of her was the side of Murder Mountain and the edge of the Crimson Forest. That meant if she continued running in this direction, she’d circle back toward the school. She might be able to climb the mountain to Ms. D’s cave. Paul was there. He’d help her. But with Ravenguard on her heels, the dogs having her scent? Chances were they’d find and kill both of them.
She pivoted and listened. Her Soulkeeper hearing focused in on the faint rush of water in the distance. Fever River, she thought. As she closed her eyes, she tried to picture the map of Revelations Island in her head. Didn’t the river run under the school? Maybe she could use the water to hide her scent and guide her back to the theater where she could help Finn and the others.
“Four minutes, thirty seconds,” came Ravenguard’s voice from the shadow of the shed.
Hope considered her options and ran for the river.
45
The Show Must Go On
Finn gripped the steel railing of the catwalk as Juliette’s voice rang like a bell through the theater, and Hope’s clone smiled prettily from the chair in front of her. Was the clone even able to sing? It couldn’t have been in Hope’s body for long. Finn had seen the real Hope that morning at breakfast. And although the clone could have existed before her disappearance, Finn had a feeling the duplicate was rushed. It wasn’t singing for a reason.
Below, Theodor took the stage, executing his Metamorphosis act as precisely as he’d described it. The audience cheered as the multicolored doves swooped over their heads and the magician’s cards danced in the lights around him. Kings and queens, spades and hearts, light and dark in a whirlwind around a man and a floating magic box. Finn marveled at the power. This was no illusion. Theodor’s magic was as real as the man himself.
The doves ignited and the entire act collapsed in on itself, spark to flame, flame to ash, the birds, the cards, the man, disappearing at the crescendo of sound and light, sucked into a microscopic black hole. Three origami doves dropped from thin air onto an empty stage.
The audience exploded in applause.
The imposter Ms. D took the stage again, sweeping the paper birds into her hands. With a few apt words, she tossed the doves into the air where they transformed into a shower of glitter.
“And now, dear visitors, I challenge you with a performance designed to ignite the animal within!” She waved her red glove.
Menagerie took the stage, the entire troupe dressed in matching black shirts and tights. The boy from the woods whose head Finn had almost crushed when he thought he was a tiger was among them. Hope was right: he’d lived. Finn bristled. Was the boy the cause of the real Hope’s absence? Did he remember her? Rat her out?
The troupe danced, their legs flying beneath them as they rode the rhythm of the music. They gathered in a tight group at the center of the stage and in the blink of an eye, transformed into tigers. The audience oohed and aahed at the illusion, never realizing that the bodies in front of them had changed into the animals in the most grisly way. Juliette made the shift appear seamless, smooth, painless.
As Paul ran his troupe through their paces, Finn counted clones. There was Ms. D, Hope, Amanda, Paul. And the clowns had already gathered near the side of the stage. They’d have a clone among them. Probably one that looked like Mike, ready to replace him once he died during the act. Finn swallowed the bile that rose in his throat.
The audience was on their feet again, hands clapping furiously. Menagerie took a bow before leaving the stage. Finn’s act was next. He flew to his red silk, noticing that Wendy was already in her cocoon. Methodically, Finn began to wrap himself.
The clowns shifted, giving Finn a clear view of the person standing among them. A sick feeling gripped his torso like a vice. The face he saw was not Mike’s. Wendy. Mike isn’t the next target. It’s Wendy. Finn’s heart pounded.
The lights clicked off. It was time. With resolve, he finished folding himself into the red cocoon and waited for his cue. He wouldn’t let them take her. Not while he was still breathing.
Hope sprinted toward the surge of rushing water. The churn of the river was getting louder, which meant she was headed in the right direction. If she waded into the river, she might be able to mask her scent from the dogs while using the path of the water to guide her back to the school. With any luck, she’d arrive before the end of the performance. She wasn’t sure how she’d kill the demon clowns without her triquetra, but she’d cross that bridge when she came to it.
As Hope saw it, she had a few things going for her. She was faster than any human, had heightened senses, and although her pendant was missing, it was entirely possible her angel would sense she was in trouble and help anyway. Most importantly, she was already healing. As her ears picked up the yap of dogs in the distance, she remembered that Applegate and Ravenguard had powers of their own. They’d come to the island as security personnel and disciplinarians. One hundred years later, they’d evolved into killing machines, hunters of anyone who broke the rules. Tonight she was their prey. She did not take the revelation lightly.
Hope broke from a grove of trees to traverse a stony beach and wade into the gray foam of the river. She shivered as the cold water gurgled over her calves. It was too dark to see to the bottom, but she learned quickly that the bank angled sharply deeper. Her right foot dropped, her leg plunging in up to her thigh, prompting her to shuffle closer to shore. She’d have to step carefully.
“This is miserable.” She shook her head and looked up at the stars. “If you’re listening, I could use some help about now. Are you listening? Or sitting on your throne in the clouds watching my legs freeze off like my life is your daily soap opera?” It wasn’t the smartest thing to taunt God, but Hope couldn’t help herself. She resented her situation and her lot in life more than ever. Wasn’t it enough that she’d discovered the demons and agreed to risk her life to kill them? Why was it necessary for her to be captured and hunted as well?
Perhaps not having the option to be an atheist had ruined her for religion. When bad things happened, she didn’t have the luxury of being able to blame it on a chaotic universe. No. She knew firsthand there was a God and that made everything worse. It meant that an omnipotent being understood that her legs were ice cubes from the knee down and that immortal Nazis were hunting her like an animal. And despite this knowledge, He chose to do nothing. There were names for people like that, and none of them were kind.
Her next step landed on a rotting log right under the surface. She stepped over its rough, spongy back and continued her journey. Two more steps and she heard the log slide into deep water behind her. Three more steps and she
noticed a break in the current at her side.
“Oh no.” She backed away as two reflective eyes locked onto her from under the surface. At once, she pivoted, lifting her knees high to sprint for the shore. The giant reptilian creature coiled and struck, sinking its teeth into the back of her legs and dragging her into the river’s depths. No time to scream. She took one last hungry breath and was dragged into the river’s depths.
Wrapped in the red silk, knees curled into his chest, Finn listened to the clicking of the opening curtain over his panicked breath. Wendy. The clowns must plan to sabotage the performance or they wouldn’t be waiting with her replacement.
Juliette’s voice rang out. The song she sang was written specifically for aerial’s routine. The music started low like a rumbling thunderstorm on the horizon. Then the lights came on and her voice rose like the sunrise. It filtered into Finn’s cocoon, casting a red glow over his skin, the color of blood.
The show must go on.
Head. Hip. Head. Hip. Finn unraveled from the center of the knot, somersaulting down the red silk at an angle that made his outstretched legs barely miss Wendy’s. When he reached the end of the silk, he climbed back up, using only his arms, legs extended, toes pointed. He paused his ascent in the middle of the length of silk and rolled one wrist in the fabric. Then, he flew.
Flying against the bound silk created a different effect than swinging. Murmurs rose up from the audience as Finn and Wendy picked up speed, their costumes expanding to resemble the winged creatures they were supposed to be. Finn continued his routine, a phoenix fighting for the affections of a butterfly maiden. He gripped the silk with both hands, extended his body straight out into space, and let go, dropping like a rock.
A woman in the audience screamed.
Finn caught the very end of the silk and climbed back up. The woman’s scream turned to an exclamation of wonder. Wendy’s turn. She rolled an ankle and wrist in the silk, performing a split in midair before spinning in a way that defied simple physics. Faster and faster, Wendy shifted from a split, to a scorpion, to a pike, and straightened her legs to twirl horizontally in a way that could only be described as gravity defying.
Finn understood it was Juliette’s voice that turned Wendy’s ordinary costume into an organic second skin that sparkled and glinted gossamer in the lights. Although his brain reminded him of the trick, he was awestruck by the illusion. All he could see was the magic. Wendy was a monarch butterfly, delicate and beautiful. Finn stared, bewitched.
He was so lost in her beauty, he almost missed his cue. Almost. Just in time, he wrapped the silk around the back of his head and revolved without the aid of hands or feet. After several howls from the audience, he tumbled, catching himself with the roll of one ankle. Head down, arms spread wide, he revolved again. Wrist, ankle, one arm behind his back. He twirled and tumbled to the applause of the house.
Now was the time to act. If he was going to save Wendy, he needed to change the performance. Everyone expected them to execute the moves they’d practiced. But Finn had an idea. If he changed what happened next, the clowns would be at a disadvantage.
Halfway back up the silk, he flipped to the high wire, breaking from routine. Finn spread his bird wings and, without hesitation, tumbled along the wire—hands, feet, hands, feet—all the way to the other side. The audience clambered to their feet, clapping and whistling. He stopped, spread his arms, fingers upturned. He motioned for Wendy. Nothing huge. A tiny twitch of his fingers.
As he’d hoped, she followed his lead, breaking from routine to land beside him on the wire, her butterfly wings flapping. She flashed him a confused look before executing a series of pirouettes. Around and around. Enough to make him dizzy. When she came to a halt, every eye in the theater was locked on the two of them. She was close now. Within arm’s reach. He took her hand. To the music, she spread her arms and went en pointe, her free leg bending along his side. She tipped forward until her free foot touched the back of her head. When she returned her foot to the wire, she pivoted and fell into Finn’s arms.
“What are you doing?” she whispered.
“Improvising,” he whispered back.
She nodded and kissed him right there in the spotlight. Her lips, soft and warm on his, produced a new kind of magic. The second of contact stretched on like a small eternity. And then he fell. They both did. Headfirst toward the stage.
She tugged his hand. “Fly, Finn. Fly!”
He came back into his head at the last second, arching his back and spreading his arms as hand in hand, they soared over the audience. His costume burst into flames. It was supposed to be a solo flight, but the audience seemed more than pleased with the conclusion. Wendy circled the theater with him, only releasing his hand when the flames engulfed his arm.
The people below them howled and pointed. They made a delicate landing on the stage. Finn and Wendy bowed as the song came to an end, smiling and waving at the onlookers. There was a moment when nothing existed but the applause and the lights.
And then an explosion of flames swallowed them both.
46
Fever River
Across the island, Hope struggled to free herself from the creature’s jaws that held her under the river’s icy depths. Her brain could not decide if the thing was a snake or a crocodile. At the moment, she might have called it a dragon. She stabbed its eyes with her fingers, dug her nails into its scaly flesh, and twisted against its slicing teeth. But even her Soulkeeper strength was no match for the beast.
Her head broke the surface long enough to grab a frantic sip of air before the beast pulled her back under. They were traveling fast, twisting and rolling with the current. There was a boulder up ahead. Would the thing smash her against it, soften her up before it swallowed her down? Not if she could help it. Thinking fast, she turned and kicked as hard as she could. Her foot connected with the neck of the beast, using the current and her weight to catch and turn its reptilian body. The back of its jaw collided with the jagged stone.
Sweet release! Hope swam for shore, away from the thing’s slashing teeth. Her arms and legs burned with the effort.
“Oomph,” she yelled, slamming into another boulder. Hard-won air billowed from her lungs. There were more stones where that came from. She tumbled into rapids, the large rocks growing closer together. This was both a blessing and a curse. It might be harder for the creature to navigate, but she could be ripped apart trying to escape it.
Focusing, she called on her abilities, kicking off one stone to propel herself to the next. When her head bobbed above the surface, she gasped for breath. When the current dragged her under, she tried to use it to her advantage.
By the inconsistency of the current, she sensed the creature was behind her, still hunting her, although the boulders were too close for the massive beast to maneuver effectively. A red ribbon of her blood curled through the water beside her. She needed to rest and allow her wounds to heal.
With her last burst of adrenaline, she broke from the rapids and swam the remaining distance to shore. The stone bank might have been a feather bed for how eagerly she took to it, sputtering and numb. Without the cold rush of water, it quickly became clear she was hurt worse than she thought. Her left arm wasn’t working right below the elbow, and half her face throbbed like a raw bruise. A gash in her leg gushed blood in time with her heartbeat.
Cursing, she glared at the stars above and waited for her body to heal.
“Such foul language.” Applegate’s face appeared above her own. When Hope gave a paltry attempt at escape, the woman’s knees pinned her arms to the ground. Applegate whistled through her fingers. The hunting party must have heard her because dogs began to bark in the distance, and horses’ hooves pounded in their direction.
“You are a challenge,” Applegate said. “Fast as lightning and smart to take the river. Most students avoid it for the immediate shelter of the forest. No one ever expects the dragon.” She laughed.
Removing her gloves, she gripp
ed Hope’s chin and squeezed.
“You’re a monster,” Hope rasped.
Applegate chuckled. “I’m whatever this place has made me.” She slid her hand under the hem of her hunting jacket to her hip, where she pulled a dagger from its sheath. “Now…” As the admissions counselor leaned over Hope, silver flashed from her neck. Hope’s triquetra. Hope struggled to reach for it. All it would take was her breath to hit the silver and her angel would come. But it was too late. The dagger plunged into Hope’s heart and pain gripped her in a tight, breathless fist.
“You,” Applegate said suddenly, face turning toward the woods. She yanked the dagger from Hope’s chest and sprang to her feet, turning her weapon on the presence behind her.
Hope couldn’t see what or who had come out of the woods, but an enormous reptilian head rose from the river at her feet. In a flash, cold teeth sank into her ankles and she shot from Applegate’s side into the river’s depths. This time she didn’t struggle or thrash. By then, she was too damaged to put up a fight. She gave herself over to the darkness and left it to the higher power to sort out.
Finn braced himself as fire raged around him and Wendy. As soon as the pyrotechnics shielded them from view, Finn used his cards. “Extinguish!” He shed the smoldering outer layer of his costume and helped Wendy out of hers.
“Are you okay?”
“A few minor burns, but I think so,” she said. “Thank goodness for my pyro lessons.”
He ushered her from the stage in the opposite direction they’d rehearsed, as Juliette let out the first notes of the accompaniment for the pyro troupe’s dance of the Seven Kingdoms. Jayden popped up through the trap door to walk directly through the swelling flames.
“Why are you going this way?” Wendy asked.
