Belle, on the other hand . . . I couldn’t say I knew one way or the other. And that scared me.
Belle used to be my hero. Her strength, her skill, her focus. I still envied them as much as I used to worship them. Back then, I’d just wanted to be strong too. And I’d wanted her to acknowledge that strength as if that would somehow make it real. But right from the time we first met, the more I interacted with her, the more I realized how little about her I really knew or understood. And these days, after all we’d learned about Natalya, after Belle had come so close to seeing her again—through me—in France, it felt like things had only gotten worse. She was more distant and aloof. And then there were the missions where she was all too ready to strike the first blow. Dead Soldier was proof of that.
I thought back to her tired and unfocused gaze in Communications. In the past few weeks, in those quiet, unexpected moments, I’d seen her dulled eyes staring off into the distance. Something wasn’t right. But then, nothing’s been quite right since Natalya’s death, not for either of us. Anyone could see that.
We both had the same ghost weighing our souls.
Only difference was, I was the one about to face her.
Dr. Rachadi tapped his monitor. A washed-out yellow light waved through my body diagram from head to toe. The two red bars on the right side of the screen began to fluctuate.
I shivered. “Why is it so cold in here? I can’t scry properly under these conditions.”
“Exactly. The psychic boundaries between your mind and the next in your line have already weakened from previous contact.” He said it as if it weren’t supposed to terrify me. “You know that to enter another Effigy’s subconscious safely, your mind needs to be perfectly calm.”
I lifted my head as much as I could. “Yes, or else I get taken over. But then again, that’s what you want.”
“Creating conditions of discomfort will ensure a scrying experience that will allow Natalya’s mind to just graze the surface. Don’t worry.Like I said, we’ll be monitoring you carefully.”
Natalya’s mind. A sudden burst of fear gripped me. This was real. They were really going to do this. No, they said they’d monitor me. They’d take care of me. This wasn’t a trap. We had to do everything we could to figure Saul out. And the girls were on the other side of that glass. If these people tried anything, they’d be here to stop them.
But who would stop Natalya?
She’d moved my body in France so well, fighting against Saul and his phantoms. She’d moved it much better than I ever could. I’d watched her from the deep recesses of my own mind, suffocated by darkness as if I’d been buried alive. That feeling of hopelessness started to crawl back into me as I imagined her face. Natalya Filipova, a girl I’d once considered my hero.
“I changed my mind.” My words came out in short rasps. “I don’t think I can do th—”
A hard prick in my arm gave my heart a jolt. One of the technicians had practically attacked me with a needle filled with a pale blue liquid, completely oblivious to the panic on my face. How the hell could I be sure these people weren’t just trying to murder me? What had I gotten myself into? A warm liquid oozed into my bloodstream. I shut my eyes with a shudder, but I suddenly couldn’t move my jaw. I felt nearly weightless, my body just barely anchored to the table upon which my limbs lay lifelessly.
I wished my uncle were here. Uncle Nathan. I hadn’t seen him or talked to him since I’d left New York months ago. If he were here, I’d know for sure I was safe. I’d be . . . at peace . . .
“Raise the transducer frequency to twenty megahertz. Beginning . . .”
“. . . cognitive penetration successful . . .”
“. . . and eliminate the artifacts from the cylithium return signal . . .”
The voices weaved in and out, lyrics to an eerily pleasant song. Peaceful.
“Raise the frequency higher,” someone said. Director Chafik, maybe. His voice was much deeper than the doctor’s, a milky murmur that matched the steady rhythm of my calm breaths. “We have to allow Natalya to get to the brink. She’ll survive.”
Survive. I rolled the syllables along my tongue without ever parting my lips. Sur . . . vive . . .
Survive . . . survive . . .
Live . . . I want to live . . .
I want to live, Maia.
It was dark. In my T-shirt and jean shorts, I lay on a ground I couldn’t see because the darkness had cloaked everything.
This wasn’t what scrying looked like. There was a right way and a wrong way to scry, typically. Belle had explained it before. There was a difference between using the front door and being dragged in through the back window. When Saul had first kissed me in New York, that sudden, shocking contact weakened the already penetrable barrier between my consciousness and Natalya’s, the last fire Effigy to die before me. Even now if I wasn’t careful, I’d see her memories in my dreams, but this left me vulnerable. True scrying required meditation and concentration. It was different from just slipping into her memories. It was a controlled experience.
This was neither. I didn’t know what this was, couldn’t fathom why the darkness had drained away until I was back outside the Marrakesh facility. Our Sect van was still parked outside. The sun was still blazing hot. Wiping the sweat off my forehead, I shifted my gaze to the sparse row of palm trees by the guard towers, their long, stiff leaves stretching into the sky.
“Maia.”
My body warmed at the sound of his voice, soft, deep, and darkly sweet. He stepped out of the driver’s seat and shut the door behind him, the wind tousling his black hair, which had grown a little since the last time I’d seen him.
“Rhys.” My arms were useless at my sides, the blood thumping in my body as I drank in the sight of his lean body dressed in the black suit typical for Sect agents to wear when not on the battlefield. A strange look for him; in the short time I’d known him, he’d worn mostly faded, worn-out jeans, baseball jackets, and, the first time we’d met, a bow tie.
“Oh good, you’re here.” He smiled as he straightened his pin-striped tie and walked up to me. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to do for ages.”
Wait. I’d had this dream before.
Many times. In many surprising locations.
I’d been having them since I’d first met him in La Charte’s hotel lobby. The contents were embarrassing to admit, but since I’d had this dream before, I wasn’t surprised when he wrapped his toned arms around me and drew me closer.
Stupid. What was I doing? I shouldn’t be doing this. Not when he—
He kissed me. Long. Deep. Yeah. That was how the dream went.
Strange how you could become attached to someone so quickly. But then so much had happened while we were fighting together . . . while he was silently protecting me, keeping me steady each step I took down this painful path. A sinfully handsome boy who cared about some geeky shut-in with self-esteem issues. I guess I was bound to get attached.
But as he pressed his chest against mine, his fingers sliding down my back and curling roughly against the base of my neck, my heart was aching with dread as much as longing. A chill slid up my spine, my arms stiff against my hips. But as I felt the moistness of his lips, I wondered if I had the strength to ask him that awful question. The one that had kept me up so many nights. The one I didn’t dare utter.
Don’t be afraid, Maia. Go ahead. Ask him.
Her voice caused me to rip myself away from Rhys’s lips, my fingers curling into fists by instinct. Fear pulsated through me as Natalya’s voice echoed in my mind.
With a sharp breath, I whipped around.
She stood behind the black gates, graveyard still, as the gentle breeze died around her.
“Natalya.” I’d spoken the word so quietly, I couldn’t be sure if I’d mouthed it instead. Her short, black hair cropped to her skull, the straight nose and haunting, piercing gaze of her brown eyes. It was unmistakable. “What’s going on?” I asked. “Isn’t this a dream? Or am I reall
y scrying?”
Your dreams . . . my memories. My memories . . . your dreams . . .
The breeze ruffled my hair. I could feel its caress whistling past my ears, but the hem of Natalya’s white dress, cut just over her knees, did not so much as flutter. I was scrying, wasn’t I? Or was I dreaming? Were our consciousnesses that inextricably linked that it didn’t matter anymore?
Yes, I could feel her. Even though she stood several feet away from me, her presence weighed down my entire being, heavier and heavier with each passing second. As if she would overcome me at any moment.
Natalya’s scarred hand clutched the hilt of her sword, its tip just grazing the dirt.
Zhar-Ptitsa. The sword of Natalya Filipova, the legendary warrior who’d carried the mantle of fire Effigy before me.
But the flush was gone from Natalya’s small, angular face. She’d entered into my dreams, and she had taken with her the pallor of the dead.
I followed her right arm as it moved slowly, deliberately upward, her sword glinting in the sun as she raised it—to me.
Panic seized my entire body, my heart crashing against my chest. Natalya was here. Natalya was here. She was going to take my body again. She was going to take me. I couldn’t breathe. I clutched at my throat, willing myself to calm down, but to no avail. She lifted her sword high above her head. I couldn’t move, not even when the sword launched from her hand. I closed my eyes, ready for the impact.
It was the sound of Rhys’s helpless whimpers that snapped my eyes back open. Blood dripped from his soft lips as his hand grabbed at the hilt of the sword piercing his chest.
It was a dream, I reminded myself over and over again as Rhys fell backward onto the dusty ground before I could catch him. It was a dream. The real Rhys wasn’t dead. I knelt down and pressed my hands against his cold cheeks gingerly, suppressing the sob threatening to escape me. He wasn’t dead. “Rhys . . . Rhys!”
Take heed. Such is the fate of those who betray.
“What do you want?” I cried, standing up again. “You want my body? Huh? You want to freak me out and take me over like last time? Is that what this is?”
I didn’t have to wonder what she wanted for long because she made it clear the moment she raised her free hand and beckoned me with her finger.
A smile flashed on her face.
I want you to catch me.
She took off.
It must have been some invisible force propelling me forward because I didn’t actually want to run full tilt for the gatekeeper’s booth. But I was following her. I was following the girl who wanted to hijack my body.
My foot found the ledge of the empty booth and boosted me up, high enough that I could grab the roof. I flipped myself over onto the roof from the momentum and dashed across the moss-green metal roofing sheets. I could still remember the blood dribbling down Rhys’s cheek as I jumped over the gate.
I saw the edge of a white skirt fluttering around the side of the building. It rippled in the wind as Natalya ran across the roofs high above me, jumping from one building to the next. Her feet tapped the rooftops so lightly, so quickly, they may not have even touched the metal at all. I chased her into the city, through the narrow, dusty streets of the same busy market the Sect driver had taken us through on our way to the facility. But this time the bystanders were moving in slow motion, their hands filled with food, baskets, and money nearly frozen in the air, their mouths parting too slowly for me to hear what they had to say before I breezed past them. A dream. I was dreaming still. But where was Natalya taking me?
Keep your eyes on me. Catch me, quickly.
Natalya’s consciousness was particularly strong being the most recent death, and she used that to her advantage. The messages, the dreams. She’d even appeared once among the living, the day I took my oath as an Effigy. There, in that echoing cathedral, she’d become something like an omen. Back then I thought it was to warn me about the Sect. When I’d found out that she’d been investigating Saul during the last moments of her life, when I’d found out that the Sect had lied about her committing suicide, I’d decided to trust her.
But I learned all too quickly: Even in death, Natalya always had her own plans.
She jumped down, disappearing behind an alleyway. I slipped between two white wooden buildings and—
—and then I was in a museum.
I was taller. My arms long and white. These weren’t my arms. This wasn’t my body.
I was . . . I was turning around. There was a crowd of people here on the main floor of the museum. The National Museum of Prague. I was here on a mission, but I couldn’t complete it. I’d only managed to leave my message for Belle in Castor’s volume when I turned and saw him coming through the door—the door I thought had been locked.
Yes. Aidan. He’d come to the museum on the same day with friends I’d never seen before. He hadn’t seen what I’d done and didn’t ask questions, and I was grateful for it. Now that we were back in the lobby, he’d left his friends by the long, winding staircase to talk to me.
“Hey, Natalya, I’m so sorry I startled you before,” Aidan said. He’d come dressed in a black striped T-shirt and jeans, wearing that cute grin I’d come to know over the years. “It’s just that I saw you sneaking around the museum and couldn’t help but be curious. I was surprised to see you here in the first place.”
“I didn’t even notice you, Aidan,” I said.
He laughed. “Well, I’m pretty good at sneaking around too.”
It was strange that he’d be here on the day I’d decided to carry out Baldric and Naomi’s mission to find the secret volume. So strange. But then again, his laughter had a way of making you think otherwise.
“Aidan, about what I was doing—”
“Honestly? Don’t even worry about it. If you’ve got something to do, then do it. It’s got nothing to do with me.” He smiled at me reassuringly.
It was the nice smile of a nice boy. I’d known him since we’d worked together on a mission near his post in rural New York three years ago. Only fifteen, but still so capable. He’d been a good friend to me ever since, fighting with me, standing by my side as a comrade. I had no reason to doubt him, but I had to maintain my guard nonetheless.
“By the way, are you interested in coming to see the dinosaur exhibit, by any chance? It’s why I’m here. I even dragged a few of my friends along.”
His friends were waving him over. He always did have a bizarre love for large creatures, even knowing the damage they could do. On more than one occasion, he’d tried to get me to go to some circus with him in Canada. Monsters as entertainment. It was beyond me.
“Why don’t you come with us?” he offered. “Life isn’t all about blood and glory. Have a little fun for once in your life, Natalya.”
But you weren’t there for a little fun, were you, Aidan?
Natalya’s voice, violent and murderous, jolted me out of her body and into a dark abyss through the pure force of her fury and pain.
He was spying on me. He followed me. Then he killed me.
“No . . .” I hadn’t wanted to believe it when she’d shown me the first time in France. I didn’t want to believe it now. “No, you’re just saying that to take my body from me.”
He killed me!
“He wouldn’t!”
You don’t believe me . . . because of your crush?
Natalya was laughing. It felt as if I were drowning. Her consciousness was swallowing me whole.
Pitiful. This body. This life. You don’t deserve it.
Without mercy, her consciousness buried mine deeper and deeper. “No . . . Get away from me!” Deeper . . . deeper . . .
“No . . . no!”
I was screaming.
“Maia? Maia!”
“No!” I screamed, waking with a terrible shudder. Chae Rin pinned me to the table, hissing at me to calm down. I stopped thrashing and surveyed the room, now silent but for the beeping monitors. Dr. Rachadi gaped at me. I could see the sweat lining
his forehead.
Director Chafik and the other two girls were hovering over me.
“Well?” I heard Lake say. “Did you get what you wanted?”
My limbs ached, and my head throbbed. Tears were welling up behind my eyelids.
“The frequency’s instability during the process of scrying matched Saul’s,” Dr. Rachadi said, wiping his forehead. “For a few minutes, Natalya’s consciousness surfaced. But the frequency didn’t stabilize the way Saul’s had once Alice’s consciousness resurfaced during his interrogation. We can hypothesize up to this point that Saul’s ability to mask his own frequency may not be something we can see in the other Effigies. Also—”
“Did you see her?” Belle. The naked desperation in her eyes was almost too much to take. Did she see me at all? Did she even care?
“Yes, I did. Natalya . . . She won’t stop.” My body shook as I lay back against the table, tears dripping down my cheeks. “She won’t stop . . . until I’m gone for good.”
My flesh was weak and tired, my muscles worn, my mind wounded. I passed out, praying I wouldn’t see Natalya again.
• • •
I awoke to the sound of curtains rippling with the gentle breeze that fluttered in with the moonlight through the open window. It was dark. Were we still at the facility? Most facilities had rooms for agents and trainees, and this hard bed was about what I expected for the kind of dreary accommodations the Sect usually had available for them. Pushing off the gray covers, I turned my weary body onto its side. They must have brought me here after I passed out. When I picked up my phone by the side of my flat, white pillow, the text message Lake had sent me an hour ago said as much.
Sibyl called after you conked out. Said we were to come back right away for a debriefing and continue your training. I KNOW IT NEVER ENDS!!! But don’t worry! We’ll leave first thing in the morning! Lots of love <3 <3
I let my phone slip from my fingers and lay back against the pillow, resting my wrist on my forehead. What never ended was the lingering feeling of danger that came with the knowledge that Natalya was deep inside my mind, waiting for her chance. At least I hadn’t dreamed about her again, not yet. But traces of the last one still haunted me.
Siege of Shadows Page 6
