Everlife Trilogy Complete Collection: Firstlife ; Lifeblood ; Everlife

by Gena Showalter

  “I’m leaving.” He straightens and holds out his hand. “But you’re coming with me. You’re going to experience an Exchange.”

  Of course I am. “I’m being punished.”

  “The Exchange isn’t always about punishment, Miss Lockwood. See the battle through Meredith’s eyes, begin to heal.”

  I lick my lips as dread bubbles up inside me. I’ve witnessed someone else’s Exchange, and the experience scarred me.

  “Come,” he says, waving his fingers.

  I know I have the right to refuse him. Free will. But I place my hand in his. This is something I deserve. A non-punishment punishment.

  He tugs me to my feet and ushers me into the hallway, where Kayla is waiting, a blue robe draped over her arm. She’s fighting tears as she fits the material over my shoulders, and she won’t meet my gaze.

  She blames me. She must.

  Neither of us speaks. There’s a ball of sorrow stuck in my throat.

  She doesn’t follow us from the cathedral.

  After taking two Gates, we end up in the Temple of Temples. For the first time, the entire section of the city is emptied out.

  “Why aren’t we in the Garden of Exchange?” I ask softly.

  “This Exchange is a gift. We go to the giver.”

  In the back of the Waft of Incense, doors open. Tremors sweep through me as we enter the Great Throne room. The air is sweetly scented air, almost intoxicating.

  Two creatures fly overhead, drawing us deeper inside. Both have a single head with a different face on every side. A man, a lion, a ram and an eagle. Both have two sets of wings. One set arches over a pair of wide shoulders while the other set covers the groin area. One wears gold armor, the other silver.

  My gaze returns to their wings. At first glance the feathers look like a peacock’s, but the ends…a human eye tips every single one. I gasp. Those eyes watch me.

  The creatures dance around seven towering lamp stands, and I know without asking the stands represent different cities in the realm. Two glow brighter than others, and the reason hits me with the force of a jackhammer. Seven cities, seven Conduits needed.

  The princess and I are working overtime, being drained faster than we should, two women doing the job of seven.

  A puzzle to work out another day.

  Marble steps lead to two alabaster columns. Between the columns are thrones. A rainbow arcs behind both, and crimson-colored water flows from the feet of the smaller one, down the stairs and through the center of the entire room. Just like the Veil of Wings.

  A man dressed in dented armor sits in the smaller throne. Light shines from him, the most glorious Light. I know I’ve met the Secondking, Eron, Prince of Doves and firstborn of the Firstking, but this feels like the first time. I’m still in awe of him.

  His beautiful eyes peer at me with sympathy I don’t deserve. The ice melts. Tears finally pour down my cheeks, leaving stinging tracks in their wake.

  As long as he’s been alive, as many people as he’s lost, he probably understands grief better than anyone.

  He is the essence of Troika itself; in one glance, there is no doubt he is everything the realm represents. Love. Forgiveness. Strength. Equality. And that armor…he is also a warrior, something I hadn’t known. He fights alongside his people. He fights for his people.

  He stands with fluid grace and descends the steps. At the bottom, he stops to stretch his arms toward me.

  Do I curtsy?

  “Your Majesty,” I say, and suddenly I don’t have to wonder what to do. Through the Grid, my heart knows what my mind doesn’t. I go to him and kneel, my arms crossed over my chest. Next I raise and uncross my arms, offering him my hands in a show of fealty.

  A sign I was once bound by darkness, but now, because of Light, I’m free.

  He clasps my hands and in an instant, a blink, a breath, a second, the Lifeblood coating me rises from my skin, the glittering particles hovering in the air around me.

  Those particles float away as the Secondking gently pulls me to my feet, and my heart shudders. “You are brave, Ten. You are mighty. A Conduit with unmatched determination.”

  The tears flow faster as I shake my head. “No. I’m stubborn and foolish. A maker of incomparable mistakes.”

  He frowns at me. “If that is what you believe, that is what you will be.”

  I say nothing more. I can’t. There’s another ball of sorrow in my throat.

  “Do you see?” he asks, his grip on me tightening. “Do you see?”

  See…as Levi once told me to do? To meditate on the outcome I want rather than the outcome I fear? My chin trembles as I shake my head. “Not yet.”

  “See.”

  I bow my head, my eyes closing, and suddenly I’m no longer Ten; I’m Meredith. I see the world through her eyes. I feel her emotions and hear her thoughts.

  I’m standing at the Eye, watching my worst fear come to life. Ten is in trouble, MLs killing anyone who gets close to her.

  If she’s hurt, or worse…

  No! When she finally taps into the power that is locked inside her, she will send legions of enemy soldiers fleeing in terror. Troika needs her. I need her.

  Months ago, when Ten lived at the asylum, her mother sent me a message. Take care of my girl.

  Truth is, I vowed to take care of her long before that day. I’ve watched over Ten since her birth, have loved her since her birth. Every time danger dared approach her, I petitioned my General, seeking aid for her. Aid that was always granted. Not that she ever knew it.

  Can I really hold my position now, as ordered, when she needs me most?

  “Kayla,” I shout. “Take my place.”

  She pales. “I… I can’t. I’m not ready.”

  When Kayla first arrived in Troika, she was assigned to the Laborers. I took notice of her because of her connection to Ten, but it didn’t take me long to see the Leader caged inside her, waiting to be freed.

  “You are. You’re stronger than you realize. And your comm will keep a log of Laborers who enter the fray. When one is weakened, let others know backup is required. If your messages fail to go through, it’s because a Myriadian Buckler is in place. Continue to resend. At some point, the Buckler will fall.” I run, as fast as my feet will carry me, a Pyre in hand, a manifestation of my Light.

  I reach the Veil of Wings and—

  Land in the center of the action. I scan the sea of faces, searching…searching…there!

  Ten has killed an ML, and it’s clear she’s wallowing in guilt.

  I quickly dispatch an ML of my own. I’ve got to help my granddaughter reach Javier; once she’s touched him, the way she touched Dior, he’ll be unable to infect anyone else, at least for a while, his Penumbra too busy repairing the damage Ten caused. Then my girl can go home. We can figure out our next move without an army breathing down our necks.

  “The boy is this way.” A shadow moves behind her, a soldier gunning for her. “Look out!”

  She doesn’t hesitate. She dives out of the way—

  But the tip of a Glacier grazes her, cold and sharp enough to slice through her armor and into her leg. I wince as glittering Lifeblood gushes from her.

  My sympathy quickly morphs into rage. Hurt my grandbaby? Die badly.

  The soldier makes another play for her. Thank the Firstking she’s strong enough to block. I’m there a second later, blocking a blow cast my way. But splitting his focus costs him, as I knew it would. Instincts well-honed, I kick him—and then I remove his head.

  I release the Pyre and help her stand. I want so badly to tell her it’s never a crime to protect yourself from evil, but conversation will only distract us. With my axes in hand, I lead her through the masses standing between us and the infected human.

  Years of training allow me t
o focus, to kill without hesitation, and continue on. With only weeks of training, Ten is well able to keep up with me. Soon she’s able to free herself from a defensive position and go on the offensive.

  No wonder she’s going to lead us to victory!

  Deciding we’ll get further if we work in tandem, I push an ML in her direction, getting him out of my way so I can take down the next one.

  Ten for the win! She does what’s necessary to remove his head.

  The next soldier she…allows to walk away?

  Only takes a moment for comprehension to dawn. I recognize the ML. A girl named Sloan. Having watched over Ten throughout her life, I know this is the one who betrayed her after escaping the asylum.

  Her heart is so soft. We should…nurture that?

  I push another ML at her instead. Survive now. Nurture later. She’s ready, but she’s weakening, her motions slowing.

  I finish off the two MLs in front of me and take a post at her side. More and more soldiers are converging on us. No matter how many we slay, their numbers only multiply.

  “They’re closing in on us!” I shout. But I’m wrong. We’re already enclosed.

  Fellow Troikans will have to perform a miracle to reach us—but even still, they won’t succeed in time. The circle is simply too thick, every ML peering at us with murderous glee.

  Unacceptable! I will not fail my precious granddaughter.

  When I notice a soldier aiming a gun at Ten, a scream leaves me unbidden, and I jump in front of her.

  Boom!

  A bullet cuts through my chest. I crash-land, and I’m quickly hit with three daggers. Agonizing pain rips through me, a wrecking ball to my calm. I’m utterly consumed, barely able to breathe. My veins fill with poison. A special concoction Myriadians use to dull Light.

  Ten shouts in denial, leaping in front of me in an effort to protect me.

  No, sweet girl. No. I open my mouth to voice my protest, to tell her to run…to run and never look back, but only a whimper escapes me.

  To my horror, an arrow embeds in her shoulder. Even still, my brave girl continues to fight.

  The boy behind her goes low, severing her Achilles tendons without her seeing. With a grunt, she falls. She loses her grip on her swords.

  Shadows…shadows all around her, cast by the swarm of MLs.

  As a Troikan—as a Conduit—she needs Light if she’s going to survive this. I have to give her Light…where is Light…there’s no Light here…

  I gasp as the answer strikes me. There is Light…it’s just trapped inside me.

  I can give it to her—through Torchlight. In doing so, I’ll die, and there will be nothing left of me to save. But that’s okay. I’ve lived a good life. Now she can live hers.

  My body jolts once, twice, a third time, and the poison surges through my veins with renewed strength. I’m running out of time…she’s running out of time…

  Soon I won’t have any Light to give.

  Resolved, I turn my head. My gaze connects with hers. Her eyes—those lovely mismatched eyes—are filled with pain, guilt and remorse. I want to tell her goodbye. This is it. The end. I want to tell her this isn’t her fault. My decision, my consequences. I’ve heard her say those words. She’ll understand. I want to tell her I’m sorry. I’m sorry I won’t get to spend more time with her. I’m sorry I couldn’t get her out of this mess. I’m sorry I’m going to miss the amazing life she’s going to lead. I’m sorry I won’t be there to see the boy she marries, the family she raises. I’m sorry…

  But the only word that leaves me is, “Live.”

  Live well, my Ten. Live well.

  I close my eyes and send my conscious mind along the Grid, gathering every ray of Light I’ve stored and hidden in case of an emergency. I draw the Light up, up until every ray bumps against the undersurface of my skin. Warmth bathes me. Such beautiful warmth.

  More Light. Too hot now. I’m burning up.

  Still more. The rays…there are too many, and they’re too strong. I’m not a Conduit, and my body isn’t equipped to handle such a massive upwelling. Any second now, I’m going to—

  I gasp.

  I’m Ten once again, the Exchange over, and I’m crying. I’m crying so hard my nose is running, my chest heaving. I choke on a sob.

  The Secondking’s grip keeps me upright. He squeezes my hands. “She loved you, and my hope is that you will heed her desire to live well, Ten. Live well.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  * * *

  “You can’t fight fire with fire. You must fight fire with water.”

  —Troika

  The next morning, a memorial service is held in Meredith’s honor. The courtyard of the Temple of Temples fills with people. I’d rather mourn alone, but Levi tells me attendance is part of my training, so I go. At my side, Hazel squeezes my hand and sobs. Steven reaches up to wipe away the tear tracks on his cheek.

  Behind me, Kayla snot-cries.

  “This is my fault,” she says between sniffles.

  She blames herself, not me? What a pair we make.

  Grief is a fire in my chest, burning and agonizing me. Sorrow is a bitter pill lodged in the back of my throat. My already broken heart is torn in two once again, one half in the Rest with Meredith. But I have my memories of her I will forever cherish. She loved me all the days of my life. She fought for me, and believed in me.

  For her, I will live. I will live well.

  I put my emotions on lockdown and stand back, watching the congregation. Surprisingly the other newbies are here. Raanan, Fatima, Winifred, Nico, Hoshi, Rebel, Sawyer and Clementine. If they’d spent any time with Meredith, I wasn’t aware of it.

  Or maybe they’re here to support me? They take turns hugging me. Raanan even says, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  I’m touched, I really am, and it threatens to raze my defenses, but I somehow find the strength to remain stoic. I won’t break down. Not here, not now.

  Meredith touched so many lives, but most of the crowd laughs as funny stories are shared about her.

  Death ends a life, but it doesn’t end a love.

  Mightier than a sword

  Eager to bless those around her

  Radiant, a Light for the world

  Eternally loving and loved

  Devoted to the end, she

  Illuminated my life

  Thankful, humble, true

  Hopeful till the end…

  After the service, after my training session, I spend a few hours in the Museum of Wisdom, searching for information about cyphers: secret or disguised ways of writing; codes. To put a message into secret writing; to encode. I look up each specific number branded in my arm…to no avail.

  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 ca
n’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.”