“Shut up!”
“You and Sommers haven’t been very honest with each other. What makes you think you can trust him?”
“He brought me this far.”
“So you could find your sister and save her?” I shake my head as I slowly pace the room. If I didn’t hate her so much, I might feel sorry for her. “He could have saved you so much time. Not to mention the plane ticket.” I pluck a dead leaf from Névé’s plant and hold it up where Kai can see it. “Jack should have told you what happened to her.”
Her voice shakes. “What did you do to her?”
I laugh. “I didn’t touch her.”
“Then where is she?”
“Maybe you should ask Jack and his friends, since they were the last ones to see her alive.”
“You’re lying,” she says in a strained voice.
“What would be the point?” I lean my hip against the desk. “I’m curious . . . did Jack forgive you for shooting him before or after you told him who your sister was?”
“Stop saying that.”
“Saying what?”
“You’re talking about my sister like she’s dead.”
“You really don’t know, do you?” I push myself off the desk and come closer, the staff tucked in the crook of my arm as I twirl the dead leaf between my fingers. I crush the leaf and let the pieces fall. “Névé’s in the wind. Jack and his friends killed her eighteen months ago. A week before you failed to kill him in Cuernavaca. And Lyon never told you.”
Her throat bobs, and her eyes well with tears. “I don’t believe you.”
She turns and sprints for the door. I snag her by the hood, dragging her backward, the blade of the scythe dropping like a guillotine in front of her face. Her wide eyes reflect back at me in the blade, her staggering breaths fogging the steel.
“Amber Chase murdered Névé. She destroyed your sister’s transmitter, then snapped her neck. But do you want to know the real kicker?” A tear slides down Kai’s cheek. “Jack Sommers took her magic. He stole it as it left her body. He’s a liar and a thief. Why do you think he gave you those picks for the lock? He knew she wouldn’t answer the door.”
She sags against me, chest heaving, as her knees give out. I hold her upright, whispering against the cold, shocked shell of her ear, “That smaze you’ve been hunting . . . do you think it’s only Jack’s soul inside it? Weren’t you the one who said stolen magic is cursed? That it comes with weaknesses? What if Jack’s weakness is Névé?” Kai goes deathly still. “Jack stole your sister’s magic. And now he’s here, faced with the possibility of reclaiming it. But maybe that smaze has a connection to someone else.” She lifts her head, understanding dawning. “Who do you think that smaze was protecting when Lixue attacked you?”
Her breath hitches. She jerks free of my arms and staggers away from me. “The smaze . . . You think a piece of Ruby is inside it?”
I kick her quiver toward her, spilling arrows over the floor. “There’s only one way to find out.”
43
Fire for Form
JACK
The torch roars, throwing shadows over Lyon’s map as I dart down the final tunnel to the spiral stairwell leading to Doug’s apartment. By now, Chill should be deep in the catacombs with Kai. With any luck, they’ll find a computer and Kai can go her own way to search for Névé’s old room. Then Chill can track down Amber, Julio, and the others and make it back to our rendezvous point by the time I break Fleur out of Doug’s room.
I prop my torch against the wall at the base of the stairs. It catches a rust-colored stain on the pale gray slab by my feet. The bloody footprint is small, roughly the same size as Fleur’s.
My heart gallops, and I take the stairs two at a time, mentally preparing myself for whatever condition I might find her in, painfully aware that I won’t have the power to heal her.
My injured arm is throbbing and hot, and my clothes are soaked in sweat. Doug and his Guards will probably smell me coming, but there’s nothing I can do about that now. I’ve lost too much time already.
The metal door at the top of the stairs squeaks as I crack it open. A bright sliver of light slices across the landing as I peek out into the hall. Two Guards stand watch beside Doug’s apartment door. I reach into my pocket, my fingers closing around one of the smoke grenades I picked up at Auggie’s house. Silently, I pull the pin, setting the grenade beside me on the floor. Knife drawn, I press my back against the wall, breathing into my sleeve as clouds of white smoke spill into the corridor.
“Do you smell that?” one of the Guards asks.
“Something’s burning,” the other answers.
Suddenly, they’re running, their boots squeaking on the marble tile.
“It’s coming from the stairwell!”
The door swings open. Light from the torch I left burning at the foot of the stairs flickers through the smoke. “Down there!” one of them shouts between coughs.
The two Guards descend the steps. I blend into the smoke behind them, plunging my blade into the nearest Guard’s back and snagging his key card from the hook at his waist as he drops. The second Guard turns, eyes watering from the smoke. I drag the blade across his throat before he can make a sound.
Two quick flashes of light soar down the stairwell into the tunnel. I cover my mouth, coughing into my sleeve as I wade back through the smoke to the hallway.
An emergency light tinges the thick haze red. I break the glass to the fire alarm and snap down the lever. Sirens wail, and the sprinklers sputter on. Drenched and dripping, I duck back into the stairwell and crouch behind the door.
Doug’s apartment door swings open.
“What’s going on out here?” A Guard rushes out, slamming the door behind him. His boots storm in my direction, but the smoke and water mask my scent, and his feet splash past me toward the Crux.
I wait a beat . . . two, checking to make sure the camera on the ceiling is turned away from me before sprinting through the thick smoke toward Doug’s apartment. I wave the key card in front of the scanner, throwing myself over the threshold and slamming the door closed behind me as I draw my knife.
My eyes burn, and I wipe my face on my sleeve. I’m in a dimly lit room. There’s a sofa and a bar, and a glass-topped oval coffee table. I start at a flash of movement. A shadow passes behind the thin gap under a set of double doors at the far end of the room. Adjusting my grip on the knife, I start toward the doors. They’re bolted and padlocked from the outside.
“Who’s there?” My pulse races at the sound of Fleur’s voice.
I’m reaching for my lockpicks when I spot a set of keys on the glass coffee table. Frantic, I thumb through them until I find the right one. I strip away the padlock, throw the bolt, and swing open the doors.
Fleur’s breath hitches when she sees me.
“Jack?”
I’m across the room, my hands around her face, in her hair, my breath ragged, my throat thick with smoke and exaltation and fear. I cup her head, drinking in her face, her eyes, her body. “You’re okay? You’re okay?” She’s wrapped in a chunky sweater that hangs to her thighs. A dark red stain peeks out from the torn leg of the jumpsuit she wears under it. I reach for it at the same time she reaches for the tear in my sleeve. Our fingers lace together and she pulls me closer.
“I’m okay,” she whispers, choking on a laugh. Then a sob. A tear slides down her face, both of us shaking and grinning like idiots.
I take her gently by the face, framing her smile with my hands, leaving smears of blood and smoke on her cheeks. The kiss I steal feels hurried and desperate. “I thought I lost you.”
Her arms loop around my neck, holding me to her. “You’re too damn stubborn. I knew you’d find me.” Our breath comes faster, our kisses becoming frantic and deeper, full of need and disbelief, as if we’re each expecting the other to disappear.
I need to feel every part of her, to know she’s really here. I wrap my arms around her waist and lift her, a hiss of pain escaping
when my stitches pull under her weight. My hand curls under her injured leg and she sucks in a sharp breath as I hook it around me.
“Sorry,” I say, pulling back to make sure she’s okay.
“Don’t be.” She grabs a fistful of my shirt and brings my mouth back to hers, kissing me hard, her legs looping around my hips as I back her against the wall, our chests heaving.
“He’ll be back soon,” she says, tipping her head back to catch her breath. I kiss her jaw, the side of her neck, behind her ear, her throat. She lets out an agonized whimper that might break me. “You have to go,” she pants. “The smoke alarm . . . He’ll know you’re in here.”
“It’s okay,” I say between our shared breaths. “By the time Doug realizes you’re gone, we’ll be deep in the catacombs.”
“But Jack—”
“I already found Chill.” I smooth her hair back from her face, my fingers lingering on her cheeks as I kiss her again. “Amber, Julio, Poppy, and Marie . . . they’re all here. I’ve found a way out. Lyon left a map. There are tunnels to the surface. Exits Doug doesn’t know about under the—”
Her hand covers my mouth. I pull back, searching her face, the sudden absence of her warmth jarring. Her lips are swollen, her neck flushed, her dark eyes focused on me. She shakes her head. “I can’t leave.”
I let her slide to her feet. “If you’re afraid for me, Fleur, don’t be. I made it this far. I can handle Doug. My smaze . . . it’s here. Lyon freed it, and I—”
“I know.” She sniffs. “I’ve seen it. It found me. I think it’s been trying to help me find a way out.” A sad smile tugs at her lips. “But I can’t go. No matter where I run, Doug will know where I am. If I leave with you, I’ll be putting you all in danger.”
“No.” I brush a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. “He can’t see you in the staff. The eye is missing. Lyon knew what was coming. He must have hidden it. I don’t have time to explain. You just have to trust me. If we run, Doug won’t be able to find you.” I pull her toward the door. “But you’re right. We should get out of here. I sent the Guards back through the ley lines. We don’t have much time before another team shows up.”
“I know the crystal is gone,” she says, digging her heels into the carpet and pulling us to a stop. “That’s not it. I can’t leave.”
I study her face, but it’s not fear I see in her eyes. It’s resignation. “I don’t understand. What are you saying?”
“Something happened when Doug and I were fighting. I don’t know how, exactly, but our magic got tangled. We’re . . . connected by it.”
“What do you mean, connected?”
“Doug and I were both using our earth magic inside the same plant. We were grappling for control of it, and I think we got tied together somehow. It all happened so fast,” she says, the words tumbling out in a rush. “There was a quake. Gaia’s orb fell on the floor and broke, her magic was free, and we were fighting for it. Doug got to it first, but when he breathed it in, it must have latched on to me instead. It’s holding on, Jack, and it won’t let go, and now a piece of my magic is trapped inside him.” She shakes out her hands. Her breath flutters.
“What happens if you leave?”
She throws back her head, as if she’s struggling to find the words to explain. “You know how when I use my earth magic, I can sense someone coming through the grass? How even if they’re far away, I feel their vibration through the ground? It’s like that. The farther away Doug is, the harder he is to feel. I feel him now,” she says, putting a hand to her chest. “He’s far away, but we’re connected through the magic, and if I wanted to, I could trace that line back to him, like following a string through a tunnel. Eventually, I would find him.” Her mouth turns down. “And he’ll find me, too, Jack. No matter where I go, he’ll be able to track me.”
A million nightmares claw their way into my mind. “No! I’m not leaving you with him! That’s never going to happen, Fleur. He wants to kill you!”
“He won’t hurt me.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because he can’t!” She bites her lip and turns away.
I cup her cheek, making her look at me. “What do you mean, he can’t hurt you? How do you know?”
“Because I’m stuck inside his head and I just . . . know.” She slides my hand from her cheek and paces away from me, as if she needs to move. Or think. “Gaia’s magic is clinging to mine. For some reason, it’s drawn to me. Maybe because it feels some affinity with my earth magic.”
“Can you control it?”
“No, I tried. Doug’s body is definitely the host. I think my magic is just acting as some kind of buffer between them.” She paces, pushing her hair back as she thinks. “Right now, he seems able to control it. But if we do manage to untangle our magic, Gaia’s power—on top of all the power he’s already taken—would probably kill him. Chronos’s and Ananke’s magic don’t seem capable of coexisting peacefully within one host. It’s like they’re fighting inside him. Gaia’s magic is . . . calm when it’s attached to mine. The presence of my earth magic seems to have disrupted some of the tension between them. But all that power should be wreaking havoc inside him. If part of me wasn’t in there, he’d probably explode,” she says, rubbing her forehead.
It feels like there’s something she’s not saying.
“So what now?” I ask in a strained voice as she comes to stand in front of me. She takes my hands and holds them between us.
“He won’t hurt me, Jack,” she says quietly. “He can’t. But that doesn’t mean he won’t hurt you.”
“So, what . . . ,” I sputter, “I’m just supposed to walk away and leave you here with him?”
“What choice do we have? Do you think I want this, Jack?” she cries, the words breaking. “Do you think for one minute that if I could come up with a way out of this, I wouldn’t run out that door with you right now?”
I take her face in my hands. They’re shaking with the need to pick her up and carry her out of here. “That’s a good plan. A great plan. Run with me. We’ll keep moving. If we move far enough, fast enough, he won’t find you. I won’t let him.”
“This isn’t like before, Jack! It’s not just our lives we’re putting at risk anymore. Gaia’s magic, Lyon’s, Ananke’s . . . Doug has taken all of it. And he can’t control it, not alone! The world has fallen into chaos since he killed Lyon and Gaia, and it’s only getting worse. If I leave, he’ll come after me. You know he will. And what then? What about the hundreds of other Seasons who are lost out there right now? What about the hundreds who are trapped in here, waiting for the ceilings to cave in? This is as much our fault as it is Doug’s. We started this! And now we have to face the consequences of our choices!”
“We’ll find a way! I’ll find a way! I’ll come up with some other plan. You know I will.”
“There’s no time!”
“I’m not leaving!”
“Neither am I!” I know this tone. This set of her jaw when she’s made up her mind about something.
“Please,” I beg, resting my forehead against hers as I whisper, “Please don’t . . .”
Fleur clasps my wrist. Her face pales. Her eyes go blank and distant, focused somewhere behind me. It’s the same vacant look she gets when she’s using her magic in her garden or in the jungle around the villa, as if her mind has slipped away someplace else.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” I ask.
“He’s on his way back.”
“How long?”
“Minutes . . . maybe less.”
“Fleur, listen to me,” I say, taking her by the shoulders. She blinks, her pupils narrowing as she reclaims her focus. “You said you’re inside his head? Is he inside yours?”
She thinks for a moment. Shakes her head.
“Can he hear your thoughts? Can he see what you’re thinking?”
“I don’t think so. Not like that.” She frowns. “But his eye . . . he has one like Chronos. It seems like all he can
see is the past. Without the crystal, he doesn’t seem able to see much else.”
“Because the Eye of Ananke sees the future.” I remember the chalk drawing Lyon had sketched when he explained how the Staff of Time worked. Michael could look in someone’s eyes and see their memories—critical moments from their past and the choices they made that had led to that moment. But the crystal in the staff projected all the paths ahead of them, revealing a potential road map to every possible future outcome. “Without the crystal, he can’t be certain of his future. Or anyone else’s.”
“That must be why he’s so desperate to find it,” she says. “He keeps the head of the staff covered with a sash. Probably because he doesn’t want anyone to know he has a weakness.”
“A weakness that can be exploited,” I murmur, the rough edges of a plan already beginning to take shape. If I’m right, Lyon hid that crystal to weaken Doug and protect me, to make sure I could get to my smaze and Fleur. He would have hidden the eye someplace he knew I would find it. “I’m going to find it. And then I’m going to use it to draw him out. If Doug wants to see his future that badly, he’s going to have to trade for it.”
“Trade what?”
“You.”
Her brow furrows. “He can’t. I told you, we’re stuck.”
“No, you’re stuck. He’s in control. You said as much. And if he controls the magic, then he has the power to release you. He just needs a little motivation.” I draw Fleur’s head against my chest so Doug won’t catch any visions of what I’m about to tell her. “I’m going to find that crystal and come up with a plan to get you out of here. I swear on my life. Me, Julio, Amber, Chill, all of us . . . we’re going to find a way to free you. Do you trust me?”
She nods against me.
“Listen carefully. There’s a tunnel between Lyon’s old office and Gaia’s apartment. That’s how they spent time together without Chronos finding out. If anything happens and you feel unsafe, get to Gaia’s apartment. You find that tunnel, and you run. There are exits to the surface from the catacombs, one at each cardinal end. Run and don’t look back. No matter what happens, I swear I’ll find you.” I press the hilt of my knife to her palm. Her warm hand closes over mine. “If you can hold on until tonight, I’ll leave you a message at the entrance to the tunnel as soon as I’ve found the crystal, letting you know where to meet me. When Doug comes after you, we’ll face him together. And we’ll have the eye.”
Seasons of Chaos Page 26
