Everlife

by Gena Showalter

  As a chorus of roars sounds behind us, I spot what we need and tug Killian in the right direction. Unsure where we'll end up, we soar through a doorway--

  Between one blink and the next, I'm with Killian and then I'm alone, right back where I started. Zero!

  I'm certain he ended up in the spot where I first found him. If I go back for him--when I go back--we'll encounter the same problems as before. I must be better armed. Problem is, there's a lack of viable weapons.

  In Many Ends, every inch, tree and creature is designed to hinder the spirits trapped within. There are thousands of discarded branches, each with sharp ends, but poisonous bugs crawl all over the best ones. There are trees with grooves all over their trunks, offering the perfect footholds, but poisonous sludge drips from each one. And let's not forget the fact that the leaves are like the Venus Flytrap, with razor-sharp teeth.

  The air is dry, hotter than hot, my sweat doing little to cool me. Screams of anguish continue to fill the air, soon joined by wails of agony and moans of pain. A snakes slithers past me, then pauses to stick out its tongue and taste the air. Its forked tongue. At the same time, ember-bugs buzz around me; every time they touch me, I blister.

  In the distance, a crack of thunder sounds, and I cringe. Zero! A rain shower will cool the air and drive away the insects and monsters--but every drop will burn like acid.

  I need to--

  Whoosh! Something hard slams into the back of my head, and the pain is excruciating. I stumble forward, barely managing to prevent a dirt kiss. Footsteps--thump, thump, thump.

  Despite a bout of dizziness, I spin, and kick out my leg. Contact. My attacker grunts. He's a man--a spirit--not a gorilla. Probably one of the soldiers who died in battle today.

  I swing my branch, forcing him to jump back. "Stop this," I pant. "To survive this realm, we've got to work together."

  "I know who you are, and I'll never work with--"

  A bird swoops from the sky, sinks its claws into the man's shoulders and hefts him into the air. Happens in less than a blink of time. I don't understand. Why was he grabbed but not me?

  Oops. Spoke too soon. Sharp claws cut into my shoulders. A second bird. Should have known. I grunt, every muscle in my body clenching and unclenching as I'm lifted into the air. The branch falls from my grip and thuds to the ground.

  As soon as we clear the tops of the trees, I scan the forest...there! My gaze is drawn to Killian, as if he's a magnet. He's perched at the top of a tree, insects crawling all over him, biting him, shredding his skin as he searches below. For me.

  I won't be separated from him again. "Killian!"

  Gritting my teeth against the coming onslaught of pain, I reach up to latch on to my captor's wing. His head whips around, allowing his spiked beak to scrape my hand all the way to bone. Through sheer grit and determination, I maintain my hold. He needs his wing, but because of me, he can't move it. Together, we fall. Limbs slap at my body, and leaves bite my face. By the time we land, I'm a mass of injuries, precious Lifeblood hemorrhaging from me.

  This isn't a new development. Every time I've been here, I've bled.

  But I take heart. Where there is blood, there is life. A spirit never dies. The very reason Reed and Kayla were able to leave this realm and join Troika.

  There's hope for escape, and that hope gives me the strength I need to stand. My knees wobble, but I remain upright. The bird remains on the ground, unmoving.

  I killed him?

  "Ten." Killian bursts through a wall of foliage and yanks me into his arms. "Lass, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I let you get away from me. Let's just burn this realm tae the ground and call it good, yeah."

  He's more concerned with my pain than his own?

  Focus! Lina helped me before; she'll help me now.

  Did I tell you I died in the Land of the Harvest? I'm sorry I killed Killian.

  I cried. You cried. I cried some more. My husband made it up to you.

  Light was the answer. Light was always the answer.

  She killed me, which in turn killed Killian. We're in Many Ends, and we're going to save the damned. We're going to save our mothers and friends.

  Lina's husband, whoever he is, will make it up to us.

  If he makes it up to us, we survive this. We survive this. I throw my arms around Killian and kiss his lips, because I need to kiss him, and taste him, and connect with him, if only for a second. He kisses me back, a glorious meeting of lips and tongue, even teeth. A communion of souls.

  Love spills through me. Love, Light. In the back of my mind, the Grid becomes more noticeable. As if finally hooked to a battery. A weak battery, but a battery all the same. Strength plumps my muscles. Joy eases the burden I hadn't known weighed down my shoulders.

  Joy is as much a source of strength as love. It will hold steady when our circumstances roughen.

  We're in Many Ends; our circumstances are definitely going to roughen.

  Though I want to linger, I force my head to lift. Distraction kills; I must never forget. After all, Many Ends remains true to its name. The end of life as we know it. The end of safety and security.

  "Where are you gettin' Light, lass?"

  He felt it? His Grid must have sputtered to life, as well. "Love. My love for you, to be specific."

  He beams at me, experiencing his own surge of joy, and my love--Light--only magnifies.

  "Now come on," I say. "Let's find that tree."

  chapter twenty-four

  * * *

  "When opportunity knocks, always opens the door."

  --Myriad

  Ten

  Using Lifeblood--gotta use whatever is available--we mark tree trunks, to help us remember where we've been, and trek the woods. Avoiding gorillas, skeleton birds, monkey-spiders and ember-bugs requires cunning. We cover our bodies in sulfur-scented mud to better blend in with the landscape and also protect our skin from the too-harsh sun.

  As we maneuver through trees, we're ignored, as hoped. And yet, I feel as if we're being watched. By another spirit? One of the many creatures? No, I don't think so, because my instincts aren't even close to razed or gearing for another battle.

  I search and scan and examine every shadow thoroughly, but I find no sign of a tail.

  Finally, blessedly, we reach the Tree of Life. And none too soon. The strength I acquired has already drained. Exhaustion has settled into my bones. I feel as if I've been in a car accident: battered and barely able to stand.

  A quick exploration reveals we're the only two people in the area. What happened to everyone else?

  Right on cue, a new chorus of screams assaults my ears, as if to say: What do you think happened, dummy?

  All right, then. More people to save.

  "I've never seen anythin' like this," Killian says, the words saturated with awe.

  "I know." I've been here before, yes, but the beauty still takes my breath away.

  With a trunk the size of a football field, and branches longer and wider than a freight train, the tree drips with colorful leaves. A thousand different shades of pink, purple and blue.

  I pick a handful of those leaves, and thank the Firstking that none of the leaves have fangs. "Eat," I say, after handing half of my bounty to Killian.

  I eat the other half, the taste sweet and the temperature cool. Absolute perfection. My wounds begin to heal, as expected, torn flesh weaving back together, fractured bones reforming.

  My last trip here, the process amazed me. It amazes me still. The power! These leaves might as well be dipped in adrenaline and sprinkled with opiates. And they prove that even in the worst of times and the worst of places, we can have hope. Whatever the trouble that is plaguing us, there is always a way out.

  Here, the scents of poison and sulfur are chased away by a fragrance perfumers would kill to bottle. Sweet, floral yet woodsy, earthy and clean, everything wonderful with no hint of taint. It's like all the best odors in the realms have been spliced together to create a delicious harmony of perfection.<
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  "What is this stuff?" Killian asks. The cuts on his skin weave back together. Broken bones mend. Swelling fades.

  "I refer to it as manna, though I suppose bread of life would be more appropriate, since it grows on the Tree of Life."

  "It helps Troikans and Myriadians alike?"

  "It does. Maybe because there are no Troikans or Myriadians here, all bonds severed upon arrival."

  "Thank you for the food, and the explanation." He kisses the tip of my nose. "Now we need a game plan."

  "Yeah, but we also need a breather. We've been on the go for months. No rest. No respite. It's time to recharge." Time to bask in our love, and the joy of being together, until we are an unbeatable unit, no matter what happens. I wiggle my brows at him. "Maybe do a little more of that kissing."

  "Well. You did strengthen when I kissed you. What kind of man would I be if I left you in this weakened condition?" There's a husky, teasing note in his voice, that sends shivers cascading down my spine.

  "True. Kissing and touching me is practically your duty. And we don't want you remiss in your duties, now, do we?"

  "I'm willin' tae work myself tae the bone."

  I nearly choke on a laugh. "I'll be disappointed if you don't." Up ahead, water flows from a branch, creating the perfect shower. I cast him a wanton grin and strip down to my underwear, his hot gaze cataloging my every move. "Catch me if you can," I say, and race forward.

  He gives chase. And he does catch me. We fall into the water with his arms wrapped around me. Little moans of delight leave me as we surge above the surface.

  Lightning fast, he strips and tosses his clothes onto a rock.

  "This is our second shower together," I say. "Only this time you're not plotting my downfall."

  He sucks in a breath as if punched.

  "What?" I blink innocently, not letting my smile break free. "Too soon to joke about?"

  "Forever will be too soon." He nips my lower lip with his teeth, then takes his time cleaning the muck from my skin.

  I love having his hands on me.

  When he finishes, I return the favor, lingering on his pecs and maybe kinda sorta the bulge between his legs. Not my fault. It's a big bulge. Like, really big. What, am I just supposed to ignore it? Impossible.

  "Okay, playtime is over." He takes the leaves from my grip and pulls me under the flow of water. His chest presses against my back as he wraps his arms around my waist. He rests his chin on my shoulder.

  The horse brand on his forearm is now as faded as mine. At least they haven't vanished. We are still in this battle.

  "I'm sorry, lass."

  I reach overhead to comb my fingers through his soaked hair. "You've got to stop apologizing...love." I try out the endearment, and breath hitches in his throat. Bingo. Found his new nickname. "Myriad taught you to rely on your feelings for every thought, action and situation, but they taught you wrong. You feel guilty, so you apologize, even though you've been forgiven. And even though your apologies are nice, they are basically a slap in my face, as if you don't believe I'm telling the truth about forgiving you."

  "I'm--" He goes quiet, and I chuckle. His clasp on me tightens. "How can you forgive me? I hurt you worse than I've ever hurt another, and yet everyone else still harbors a grudge. And rightfully so."

  "I just... I refuse to be an emotional bookkeeper, keeping a detailed account of the wrongs done to me. I choose forgiveness, even when and if I don't actually feel forgiving. Because it's not about what I feel. Like everything else, it's about what I choose. Do my emotions control me, or do I control my emotions? I decide. And really, like you, like everyone else, I've made mistakes. I like to think I've been forgiven, so, what I want for myself, I offer freely to others. Besides, love isn't about getting everything right. It's about being there for each other when everything goes wrong."

  A moment passes in thoughtful silence, the stiffness leaving him. Then he kisses my ear, my jaw and the pulse hammering at the base of my neck.

  He cups my breasts, then slides his hands lower...delving under my panties. "I'd say you are too good tae be true, but I'd rather spend my time enjoyin' you."

  I mewl and purr as I writhe into his touch.

  When my head begins to spin from the pleasure, I turn in his arms, facing him. My gaze snags on his plethora of tattoos. "I love these."

  "Together they create a map of Myriad, as you once guessed, but they also mark where I hid my greatest treasures."

  I already knew that, but his admission is like honey to my soul.

  "Most of the items were stolen from me," he grumbles, "but I realized they weren't really treasures, after all. They never really mattered. I have you, and you are what matters most."

  Melting...

  He nuzzles my cheek. "Maybe I need to have an X inked over my heart. X marks the spot, and X stands for the numeral ten."

  I laugh, delighted by him. "I never pegged you for a romantic. But I like it."

  He lifts his head to gift me with a brilliant smile. "Seems I've been buryin' my treasure in the wrong places. But that's about to change, yeah?"

  A blush heats my cheeks. "You did not just say that."

  "Oh, aye, I did." Grinning, he rubs against me.

  I gasp with pleasure, and sink my hands into his hair. "We aren't always promised a tomorrow. The only guarantee we have is right now, and I'm not wasting another second. I want you, Killian." I want to show my husband the depths of my love for him, not just tell him.

  I trust him with my future, so, I'm going to trust him with my body.

  He cups my jaw, traces his thumbs over my cheeks. His pupils are blown, and his body is trembling as forcefully as mine. "Are you sure, lass?"

  Very. "Kiss me." I lift to my tiptoes.

  He meets me halfway, his lips pressing into mine. At first the kiss is as sweet as the air around us, gentle and wet, so wet, as the water continues to rain. An exploratory indulgence as we relearn and savor each other...but it isn't long before sweet isn't enough. Our bodies are burning so hot the water droplets are steaming off our skin.

  He is my first and last love, and he will be my first time. What could be more perfect?

  His hands wander over different parts of me, driving my need higher. Until I'm aching, overcome--desperate.

  Between panting breaths, I ask, "Can a spirit who has experienced Second-death impregnate another spirit who has experienced Second-death?"

  As a human, I didn't have to worry. Not because I wasn't having sex, but because birth control is given to all menstruating females in the name of population control. To have a child, a couple must petition for the right.

  "I highly doubt conception is possible here," he says, and I agree. "But if it does matter, we're good. I receive yearly shots in Myriad to stop my little swimmers. I've got three months tae go." He rubs the tip of his nose against mine. "Shall we continue?"

  I nod. "Please d--"

  He dives down, claiming my mouth before I can finish my command, sweeping me up in a brutal storm of unquenchable desire. Will I ever get enough of him?

  He devours my mouth, giving and taking, giving and taking, sweeping me up in a riotous storm. Right now, we are the only two people in existence. Time ceases to matter. There is only here and now.

  Blood rushes through my veins, a newly awakened river without a dam in sight. My heart races, and my limbs tremble with passion rather than weakness. I tingle and ache and burn and tingle and ache and burn and oh, I can't get enough of this boy.

  We're dead--again--but I've never felt more alive.

  He picks me up as if I weigh nothing and gently places me on a dry rock. He removes my bra and panties before settling on top of me. Skin to heated skin. Hardness against softness. Consuming need to consuming need.

  The kiss deepens as his hands travel over me, kneading me, caressing me, driving me utterly insane. My tremors return and intensify. My blood turns to fuel, stoking my need higher. And higher. New mewls leave me, followed by moans, groans
and pleas.

  And he's just getting started.

  Anywhere his hands travel, his mouth soon follows. He touches and tastes every inch of me, this husband of mine, and I'm lost, so lost, set adrift, and I have no desire to be found. He is my treasure, and in his arms, I have everything I've ever needed. Love, joy, peace and hope. The foundation I will forever stand upon. The things for which I fight the good fight.

  "I want this tae be good for you, lass, okay? All right? So you must tell me if ever you want me tae stop. I will stop, no matter how far gone we are. No questions asked. There'll be no pushing you for more, okay?"

  I nod, because I'm past the point of speech. But that's okay, too, because he lifts his head to peer at me with radiant adoration, and I'm certain every bit of it is reflected back to him through my eyes.

  In that moment, I'm so glad I waited, so glad he is my first, but had there been a thousand before him, the memory of them would have been burned away in the fire of our love.

  When he claims me as his own, there is pain, but it's slight, and soon fades. I cling to him, my nails in his back, and lift my hips to encourage him. As he moves within me, kissing me, loving me, still giving and taking, I'm overwhelmed by the knowledge that we are one.

  One heart. One mind. One body.

  *

  Afterward, as I cuddle against him, my cheek resting against his racing heartbeat, I can't help but look ahead to our future. After we save the spirits here, we can work with Eron to save the people of Myriad from Ambrosine. If Archer and the others haven't already done so, that is. We can live in Troika, as planned, without Killian having to go to court in order to defect, or even travel between both realms. But...

  After his treatment in Troika, that may not be something he's willing to do. I'll understand. I won't like it, but I'll understand.

  "You stiffened," he says. "Tell me why."

  "Just thinking about what will happen after we rescue the damned. You know...where we'll live."

  "We'll live in Troika, and visit Myriad if we so desire--and if the realm still exists, of course."

  "Really? You'd be willing to pack up and move to Troika, even though you were treated so horribly?"

  "You were treated horribly in Myriad, lass. The difference is, my people tortured you, and planned tae do worse. Yer people only locked me away."