Everlife

by Gena Showalter

  A taunt that reaches its intended target. Eyes flashing with fury, Ambrosine motions Javier over.

  The Abrogate steps in front of me, flattens his hands on my temples, and sends his darkness whisking through my mind, an ice-cold gale force I struggle to resist. Because, at long last, I see the shadows for what they really are: bondage.

  These shadows do their best to tempt me, even as they barrage every barrier I erect. Let us in...will make everything better...all your pain will go away...earn respect...

  Panic feels like a thousand needle pricks against my skin. No, no. Fight! So often Myriadians have claimed the Troikans are slaves to their rules, but all along, the opposite has been true. We served the will of greed, nothing more, ignoring the plight of others. We waxed poetic about luxury and frivolity, taking what we wanted, when we wanted, citing might equaled right. To us, the weak deserved their lot.

  Today, I'm the weak one. I need help, but my fellow kinsmen won't lift a finger in my defense. A bitter laugh sounds inside my head. Ten warned me this day would come. She said the weak do not stay weak and the strong do not stay strong, there's a constant ebb and flow, and we need each other to survive it.

  With a cry from deep in my soul, I push the shadows and their ice away from the Grid, away from Ten and Troika.

  I am part of Troika.

  I might have shared what little Light I had with Ten, but there must be more. The source of my Light, buried deep, deeper...yes! In this cold, oppressive darkness, a pinprick of Light beckons...

  I jolt. It is my connection to Ten, and Javier hasn't touched it. He can't. It's too bright, too pure.

  A smile blooms. Like a heat-seeking missile, I focus on the flames, stretching out my hand...

  Knowledge comes, cutting through the shadows to glide across the Grid. Light comes.

  Once I thought Myriad had an intractable hold on me--but I was the one holding on to Myriad. No longer. I let go without a beat of hesitation. Let go of my past, hurts and fears. A heavy weight lifts from my shoulders. A weight I never knew I carried.

  I grab hold of my future with Ten, allowing the Light to grow, spread and deepen. Warmth pervades, melting ice. Love for my wife expands. She is my life, the reason I breathe.

  Javier grunts, and begins to shake. His grip on me loosens, but I latch on to his wrists, maintaining contact. Will use their plan against them...

  The Light continues to expand, filling me...and spilling into Javier. He goes quiet and still, then collapses. Dead? Perhaps. I expect satisfaction, but feel resolute. His actions, his consequences.

  Where will his spirit go, if he breathes his last? Many Ends is nearing complete collapse.

  I open my eyes...and reel, the rest of the world coming back into focus. The Kennel cages have fallen over. Paths have been formed over the ground, where soldiers fight. Troikans versus Abrogates. Sword against sword, Light against dark. Ambrosine hovers in the air, held by a cloud of shadows, watching as a battle rages.

  Ten lies on the ground, motionless, guarded only by Biscuit.

  Panic returns, those needle-pricks sinking ever-deeper.

  I don't know why she's out, and I'm not. What happens to one no longer happens to the other? I can only guess the reason. Before, we were two halves of a whole. Now? We are two wholes linked together. Rings connected and inseparable.

  I just want her healthy and whole. Will do anything to ensure her safety.

  Urgency sets my feet on fire. I run, shoving my way through the combatants to drop to my knees and gather Ten close. Her eyes are closed, her body boneless. Trembling, I scramble to check for a pulse...a pulse I cannot find.

  No! No, no, no. A heart can be restarted.

  Her heart will be restarted. Here. Now. No other outcome is acceptable.

  "Tell me what happened," I demand, easing her back to the ground. Verging on hysteria, I pound a fist in the center of her sternum. Again. Again. And again. "Live, Ten. Do you hear me? Live!"

  Without her I can't... I won't...

  "She tried to get to you," Biscuit says between sobs. "Ambrosine hit her with more darkness than she could withstand. Make her breathe again, Killian. Please."

  Hands just over her heart, I begin compressions. One, two, three. All the way to fifteen. Tears blur my vision. I check for a pulse. Nothing. Begin compressions again, doing everything in my power to push Light into her.

  Light. My Light. She fed me what remained of her Light, didn't she? To save me from Javier. Put my needs before her own.

  Argh! I want to scream, rant and beat everyone in the vicinity. She dies, we all die. "You come back tae me, Tenley Flynn. That's an order." Whatever I plan to say next gets clogged in my throat.

  Darkness, darkness, all around her, enclosing her...so thick, too thick, but I refuse to give up. I push and push and push, my Light draining... And yet, I'm not drained. The other Conduits are feeding me Light even as they engage in combat. Feeding Ten, too?

  A hard hand settles on my shoulder. Leonard Lockwood. Before I can strike, he gasps and stumbles away from me. His knees give out, and he collapses. The Light too much for him? Good!

  Suddenly the brightest Light of all explodes from the Veil of Midnight, mere feet away from Ambrosine. In the center, a being appears. A being I've only ever seen in holograms.

  Eron, Prince of Doves. Wind blows around him, and lightning flashes under the surface of his skin.

  Relief fills me. He will save Ten in ways I cannot.

  The battle stops abruptly, Abrogates rushing to one side of the battlefield, Troikans to the other. The Myriadians do not rush to offer their support to their Secondking, but to hide from Eron.

  Archer, Deacon, Sloan, Erica, Clay, Reed, Clementine and Raanan race back to Ten's side. My family. My...friends?

  "Eron," I call. "Ten needs yer help." I need his help. I need this beautiful lass now and always.

  His blue, blue gaze finds me. The corners of his lips lift slightly, and he gives me a barely perceptible nod.

  Relief spills from me. Ten will be all right. I know it.

  I know it!

  This is the faith she's always had in the man. The being. I understand now. No matter how bad circumstances seem, things can get better.

  "The time has come at long last," Eron says to his brother, voice booming. "While you punished your people, I've taught and empowered mine, waiting for a group willing to sacrifice everything to brave the darkness and save the damned, no matter the risk to themselves."

  "They might have saved the damned," Ambrosine growls, "but they doomed themselves."

  A smile of pure joy spreads over Eron's face, and in that moment he's so beautiful that it actually hurts to look at him. "What has Father always told us? There is no power stronger than love, and the greatest sign of love is giving. Giving is sacrifice. One after the other, my people have died to save yours. Now they will be reborn--and your reign ends." With barely a pause, Eron shouts, "Shine. Shine now."

  Light explodes from each of us, including me! Beams soak into Ten, and she stirs in my arms. When she moans, her eyes blinking open, my heart leaps for joy. She lives!

  Most Abrogates run away, screaming in pain.

  Ten's mismatched gaze clears of any fog, and questions me: What's going on?

  I lean down to place kisses all over her face and whisper, "You're alive and well. Everythin' is going tae be all right. Your king is here." Our king. "I think we're about tae witness the showdown of the ages."

  Above us, Eron and a trembling Ambrosine face off.

  "Take your people and go." My former Secondking shakes his head in denial. "Leave my territory. You do not wish to fight me, Eron."

  "Oh, but I do. Father wishes to rebuild the bridge between realms. Without your shadows, Myriadians will be unharmed by Light. They may choose to enter Troika, or stay here. I have no quarrel with your people--only you."

  Ambrosine grows pale but swiftly rallies. Pride will do that--trick you into thinking you are better than you truly
are. "There cannot be new life without blood and sacrifice, just as you claimed. If you want my people, Prince of Doves, you must die for them."

  Eron lifts his chin, refusing to back down.

  But his brother isn't done. "Our entire court system is built on a single principle. A toll must always be paid. A life for a life. A king for a city. Would you and your father prove yourselves unjust, rebuilding the bridge without the proper blood sacrifice? And after so many of our people have willingly died for the chance to help someone else defect to another realm. Someone who is, in essence, an enemy at the time."

  Your father. Every day of my life, I've yearned for a family of my own. Yet Ambrosine has disavowed his own flesh and blood, as if they mean nothing to him.

  "You want my life?" Eron spread his arms wide. "Very well. Take it."

  "Oh, brother. I will. With pleasure." Ambrosine unsheathes a sword and, with a shrill war cry, launches at his brother, who is prepared, meeting the sword with one of his own.

  The two propel into the air, twirling this way and that, their swords clanging together so quickly that my eyes cannot keep track. I see blurs, yet I'm still amazed by the show of strength, skill and speed.

  Ambrosine will lose. I'm certain of it. As certain as I was that Ten would live. Our choices dictate the conditions of our life. Even faced with pain and death, Ten has always done what she believes is right. And more often than not, she's put others first. My former Secondking never has.

  What Ambrosine and his minions do not understand? This war has never been about gaining the upper hand, or destroying the other realm. This war has always been about love. When you deal like with like, return pain for pain, you've already lost.

  Ambrosine lost day one. Today's battle is simply the manifestation of it.

  His people do not yet comprehend this truth. The Abrogates who opted to remain behind join hands, probably thinking to aid him. Darkness soon rises from them, a mist that wafts on the breeze to envelop the combatants. Eron's movements slow, and Ambrosine laughs with glee.

  "You're only fighting the inevitable, brother," Ambrosine taunts.

  "Killian," Ten says, and gulps. "We must help our king."

  In that moment, my heart swells. I love her a thousand times more. She trusts me to help, not hurt.

  I tug her to her feet, my hand clinging tightly to hers. "Together," I call.

  We join hands with the others, forming an unbreakable link. Love floods me. Light rises from us all and spreads, chasing away the darkness.

  When our Light reaches Eron, he stops altogether, rather than speeding up. He hovers, his head thrown back and his arms spread, as if he wants...no, surely not. Confusion pokes holes in my triumph, and my brow furrows.

  A life for a life. A king for a city.

  The words reverberate inside my head, and I gulp.

  "He's got this," Ten says.

  Ambrosine closes in, maneuvering around the Light, and swings his sword--

  Eron doesn't move.

  Ten and I shout in unison. "No!"

  Shock jolts me. My stomach collapses into itself. Metal slicks through Eron's throat. His head detaches and falls to the ground. His body isn't far behind, the Light under his feet vanishing.

  Thump. THUMP.

  Another denial from Ten, blending with a chorus of denials from every other Troikan. I open and close my mouth, my mind unable to compute.

  We...lost? The greatest Secondking is dead?

  Ambrosine won? Evil won?

  No. No! Absolutely impossible.

  But in the space of a heartbeat, our Light goes out. All Light. There's nothing left--except darkness. I'm left cold, and empty. Nothing but a shell.

  chapter thirty-one

  * * *

  "Leverage the pain of your past to ensure a brighter future."

  --Troika

  Ten

  "No," I cry. I can't... I don't... Shock and horror trap my thoughts in an endless loop. I can't... I don't...

  I can't... I don't...

  I shake my head, and wires get rerouted. I can't process the ramifications... I don't know what to do. Darkness hangs heavy in the air, blinding me as a cacophony of protests and cheers assault my ears. The temperature drops, ice seeming to grow over my skin.

  "This can't be the end," I whisper. "Darkness can't be the winner."

  All hope is gone? We fought, and we lost, so go home and lick our wounds? I give my head another shake, the ends of my hair slapping my cheeks.

  This simply cannot be. Light has to win. Light chases away darkness without fail. And, and, and we've sown love. Now we reap love. That's how things work. Spiritual laws are never broken. Never!

  Killian's hand tightens on mine. Right now, he's my only anchor in a terrible storm. "Eron must have had a reason for acceptin' the beheadin', lass. Trust him."

  "He just...he can't be dead." We did everything right.

  Where is Ambrosine? I can't see him--can't see anything. Is he hovering beneath the Veil, gloating about his victory?

  A sob splits my lips. We risked our lives to save the people being tortured in Many Ends. Not just those we know, or those related to us, but strangers. We had Light on our side. We worked together. We stood as one. One spirit, one soul, one body. Surely we aren't going to be punished for our sacrifices.

  "Spirits never die," Killian reminds me. "This is no' the end."

  He isn't just hopeful, I realize. I hear certainty in his tone. He truly believes we will see Eron again. That belief spurs mine, warming me inside and out. Eron would never do anything to harm his people. Whatever he did, he did for our good.

  There is no power stronger than love, and the greatest sign of love is giving. Giving is sacrifice.

  Suddenly a burst of fireworks explodes through the sky, revealing Ambrosine in the same spot as before. His people are on the ground, staring skyward, watching the show. My father, Victor, the remaining Abrogates. Even Javier. But I can hardly bring myself to care. The starburst is the most magnificent, glorious display I've ever seen. Streams of sparkling light more dazzling than the Northern Lights in the Land of the Harvest. They cause the burst of other Lights, lighting up Myriad from the inside out.

  "I'm hooked to the Troikan Grid." Awe drips from Killian's voice. "There are no shadows, only Light."

  "We don't need to go to court?" Eron let his brother kill him outright...for this?

  --He did not kill me, Mighty Ten. Spirits never die. I am... I am. I was and I will always be. Though I lost my physical form, I have gained a better place in the Grid. I remain a part of my people.--

  Eron's voice flows across the Grid, and a gush of surprise laughter escapes me. He is alive. --You could have bested Ambrosine. You could have found another way.--

  --You've been to court. You know there is only one way. You know every court case is paid in blood, the most precious commodity for human and spirit alike. Only a king's blood could pay the price for countless Myriadians and Unsigned. Now they have a choice: defect or stay. Either way, they have been given a new start, without the influence of Ambrosine's shadows. At least for a little while.--

  I gulp. Such a beautiful exchange. Eron's life for ours. For all. Only love could make such a sacrifice. --Are you saying Ambrosine will rebuild?--

  --Myriad has been dealt a devastating blow, but yes, Ambrosine will rebuild. The difference is, any Myriadian who later decides to defect to Troika may do so, without ever having to go to court. No one else must experience Second-death. That is what we fought for, and that is what we won.--

  --But what of peace?--

  --With our actions this day, we've extended an olive branch. Some will accept, some will not. We can only love them all, and strive for better.--

  Deep breath in, out. So badly I longed for peace. But I do understand what he's saying. I cannot force others to comply. I can only do what I know is right. --And what of humans?--

  --A choice must still be made. They must choose Troika or Myriad. My people will con
tinue on, winning souls.--

  Here's hoping we can fight for souls without actually fighting Myriadians.

  "Do you guys see what I see?" Archer asks, awe dripping from his tone. "Or am I imagining my dream scenario?"

  I'm drawn out of my head--and gasp. A section of the Veil of Midnight has been parted to reveal a breathtaking bridge that glimmers with all the colors of the rainbow. A staircase descends from each side, branching into multiple staircases midway, the ends reaching every Gate and Stairwell in the realm. As if the bridge has many arms open wide in welcome. Come to me.

  Anyone can climb to the top at any time.

  Side rails rise into a magnificent bejeweled arch, with four pillars acting as anchors. Two on each side. Those pillars end in razor sharp points, as if to ward off any aerial threat.

  "No!" Ambrosine rams his big body into the bridge, but the massive structure holds steady.

  Contact must weaken him, because he tumbles from the sky, his shadows unable to catch him. He crash-lands, his bones breaking, the resounding pop echoing through the Kennels. The foundation at my feet quakes, and drops of water rain from the crimson Veil. As if the realm is crying tears of blood.

  One by one, the Myriadians around us collapse, just like their king. Javier, Victor and my father stay down, writhing in pain. Victor curses me, as if his pain is my fault.

  My father reaches for me. "Ten...help..."

  Help? He can't be serious. Only one day ago, this man slashed my mother's throat in front of me, hastening her Second-death. And he laughed about it!

  His throat should be slashed!

  Ugh. Who are you?

  Resentment is not my friend. Resentment heralds hate, and hate heralds bitterness. Ambrosine was the epitome of bitterness, and I won't be like him.

  I don't have to like my father. But. If there's a chance he has seen the Light, or will see the Light, can I really turn him away? Resolute, I make my way toward him, then crouch at his side.

  The closer I get, the more I see glee glimmering in his eyes. I slow my pace. He reaches for me with one hand, as if beseeching me...and tries to stab me with the other.

  Reflexes well-honed, I raise my arm to block. I'm about to launch a counterstrike when Killian appears at my side and stomps on my dad's wrist.

  Leonard bellows with pain and outrage. I won't refer to him as "my dad" or "father" ever again. He is neither of those things.