An-n-nd the anthill wins.
The little beasties have upraised eyes, like alligators, yet they have the belly and stinger of a bumblebee and the legs of a cricket. And if the drool dripping from their fangs—because yes, we can add vampire to the mix—means anything, Ten is on the dinner menu.
They converge on me en masse, crawling all over me, biting me. Screaming, I bat at my face, my arms. Kayla’s screams soon blend with mine. We’re being eaten alive, and we can’t go on like this. It’s too much, but the sad thing is, it won’t kill us.
An ember-bug joins the party, stinging me, blistering me, but also killing some of the ants. An idea hits me. It’s horrible. It’s going to get me hurt. But I’ll recover. Maybe.
I throw myself into the swarm of ember-bugs. They sting me repeatedly, and I’m pretty sure my skin is melting off, but the ants are dying, too, so I consider it a win. Though my eyes are so swollen that I’m nearing total blindness, I’m able to find Kayla through her screams and throw myself at her. Our limbs tangle, the ember-bugs attacking her, as well.
When the last of the ants are killed, I tighten my grip on Kayla and roll over the grass, rocks cutting into exposed muscle but also smashing the ember-bugs. By the time we still, I’m leaking so much Lifeblood I’m not sure I’ll have the strength to stand.
“Almost...there,” Kayla gasps. Her eyes and lips are as swollen as mine, and there are puncture marks all over her face, neck and arms. She manages to climb to all fours. “This way.”
Squawks sound from the sky. The birds must be circling us. We’re easy pickings.
I grit my teeth and climb to all fours, as well. Dizziness nearly topples me as I make my way forward, staying behind her through touch alone, my fingers brushing her foot every time I extend my arm.
Finally, blessedly, she stops. “Eat,” she says, placing something in my hand.
I don’t take the time to study it—why even try? My eyes are still too swollen to see more than shadows. I just stuff the thing—a leaf?—into my mouth and chew with what little strength I have left. The moment I swallow, however, that “little” strength multiplies.
My swelling goes down, and skin begins to grow over my muscles.
I realize I’m under a Wisteria tree. The largest I’ve ever seen, with a trunk the size of a freaking house. The flowers are magnificent, some deep violet, some soft pink and some snow-white, all thick and lush, absolutely perfect, hanging from the branches like clusters of grapes.
I stand and pull Kayla to her feet. The sweet scent of sugarcane permeates everything here.
“Eat,” she repeats, plucking a handful of petals and stuffing them in her mouth. Soon after she swallows, the rest of the punctures fade from her skin.
I eat a handful of petals myself, the taste as sweet as the smell, something I hadn’t noticed while I was in so much pain. I swallow, and my skin begins to tingle, my blood to heat. This is how she and the others survived so long, no doubt about it. But...how is the tree here, in such a desolate place?
“The birds don’t come near us when we’re in this shade,” she says. “I don’t know why. I only know this is the center of the realm.”
“How many other spirits are here?”
“Thousands. Millions. I’m not sure. The birds carry them to the mountains. If you want to know how many others are safe, like us, the answer fluctuates as newcomers arrive, but right now there are only two others. Reed and a man I’ve seen in the forest. He runs from us.”
“Kayla?” Reed steps around a car-size branch. When his gaze finds me, it narrows. “You came back.”
“Unfortunately.” And now I’d like to find a way out.
You saved them.
How?
Eight times eight times eight they fly, whatever you do, don’t stay dry.
“Last time I was here, you told me there’s a lake,” I say.
Reed’s smile is cold as he waves his hand in the direction he just came from. “It’s just outside the shade, but the moment you reach the shore, the birds will descend.”
“Even if I jump in?” Don’t stay dry...
His laugh has a very sharp edge. “No. The birds won’t get you if you jump in, but something else will. Everyone who’s ever touched a drop of that water has been sucked into its depths—and come out in pieces.”
Chapter twenty-five
“If at first you don’t succeed, kill your opponent.”
—Myriad
I stand at the edge of the shade, my pockets full of leaves from the tree, Kayla and Reed beside me. The birds know what I’m planning. They must. They circle overhead, waiting to dive—to attack—the second I move.
Kayla gives herself a hug. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
Seven ladies dancing, ignore their sweet romancing. “There’s a difference between wanting to do something and knowing I need to do it.”
“Okay. Why do you need to do this?” Reed demands.
“I think it’s the way out.” I opt for honesty rather than evasion. As much as I don’t want to get their hopes up, I do want to get their hopes up. Hope empowers. It’s the reason we wake and the reason we rise. The reason we keep moving forward. “If you could leave, and choose one of the realms—”
“Yes,” they say in unison.
“No longer interested in peace?” I ask.
“Peace will always be my first priority, but I know I can’t achieve it here,” Kayla says.
I don’t have the heart to tell her she’ll never achieve it. Troika and Myriad will never call a truce, and their battles will always spill into the Land of the Harvest.
Reed frowns at me. “Tell me you have a plan to survive whatever’s in the water.”
“I do. I’m going to figure it out when I get there.”
He rubs the back of his neck.
“What do I have to lose? My life? Been there, done that.” But what happens next? I don’t believe in Fusion, not anymore. Not for anyone. But I’m in Many Ends. I don’t think I’ll get to enter into the Rest.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” Reed grumbles, “but I’m coming with you.”
Kayla moans. “I knew you’d insist.”
“You don’t have to—” he begins.
“There’s no way I’m staying if you’re going,” she interjects. “Don’t even suggest it.”
A little bubble of hope expands in my chest. There’s more to the girl than I realized.
Reed nods. “Just...be prepared for the worst.”
I hate the thought of risking their lives—and I use the term lives loosely—but if I’m right, and the song is the road map to freedom, this is our best option.
“I’m prepared,” Kayla says. “Every day, I’m prepared.”
“Your faith in me is humbling, guys.” I run the wire of a wrist cuff through two belt loops in Reed’s mud-stained jeans. Kayla doesn’t have belt loops, so I press her finger through the small metal hook. “Whatever happens, you keep a tight grip.”
Her nod is reluctant, but hey, a nod is a nod.
“Oh, a word of warning. There may or may not be seven women in the water, and if they try to romance you, you have to ignore them.” I grab their hands while they sputter in confusion. “Okay, then. On your mark, get set, go!”
The little beasties have upraised eyes, like alligators, yet they have the belly and stinger of a bumblebee and the legs of a cricket. And if the drool dripping from their fangs—because yes, we can add vampire to the mix—means anything, Ten is on the dinner menu.
They converge on me en masse, crawling all over me, biting me. Screaming, I bat at my face, my arms. Kayla’s screams soon blend with mine. We’re being eaten alive, and we can’t go on like this. It’s too much, but the sad thing is, it won’t kill us.
An ember-bug joins the party, stinging me, blistering me, but also killing some of the ants. An idea hits me. It’s horrible. It’s going to get me hurt. But I’ll recover. Maybe.
I throw myself into the swarm of ember-bugs. They sting me repeatedly, and I’m pretty sure my skin is melting off, but the ants are dying, too, so I consider it a win. Though my eyes are so swollen that I’m nearing total blindness, I’m able to find Kayla through her screams and throw myself at her. Our limbs tangle, the ember-bugs attacking her, as well.
When the last of the ants are killed, I tighten my grip on Kayla and roll over the grass, rocks cutting into exposed muscle but also smashing the ember-bugs. By the time we still, I’m leaking so much Lifeblood I’m not sure I’ll have the strength to stand.
“Almost...there,” Kayla gasps. Her eyes and lips are as swollen as mine, and there are puncture marks all over her face, neck and arms. She manages to climb to all fours. “This way.”
Squawks sound from the sky. The birds must be circling us. We’re easy pickings.
I grit my teeth and climb to all fours, as well. Dizziness nearly topples me as I make my way forward, staying behind her through touch alone, my fingers brushing her foot every time I extend my arm.
Finally, blessedly, she stops. “Eat,” she says, placing something in my hand.
I don’t take the time to study it—why even try? My eyes are still too swollen to see more than shadows. I just stuff the thing—a leaf?—into my mouth and chew with what little strength I have left. The moment I swallow, however, that “little” strength multiplies.
My swelling goes down, and skin begins to grow over my muscles.
I realize I’m under a Wisteria tree. The largest I’ve ever seen, with a trunk the size of a freaking house. The flowers are magnificent, some deep violet, some soft pink and some snow-white, all thick and lush, absolutely perfect, hanging from the branches like clusters of grapes.
I stand and pull Kayla to her feet. The sweet scent of sugarcane permeates everything here.
“Eat,” she repeats, plucking a handful of petals and stuffing them in her mouth. Soon after she swallows, the rest of the punctures fade from her skin.
I eat a handful of petals myself, the taste as sweet as the smell, something I hadn’t noticed while I was in so much pain. I swallow, and my skin begins to tingle, my blood to heat. This is how she and the others survived so long, no doubt about it. But...how is the tree here, in such a desolate place?
“The birds don’t come near us when we’re in this shade,” she says. “I don’t know why. I only know this is the center of the realm.”
“How many other spirits are here?”
“Thousands. Millions. I’m not sure. The birds carry them to the mountains. If you want to know how many others are safe, like us, the answer fluctuates as newcomers arrive, but right now there are only two others. Reed and a man I’ve seen in the forest. He runs from us.”
“Kayla?” Reed steps around a car-size branch. When his gaze finds me, it narrows. “You came back.”
“Unfortunately.” And now I’d like to find a way out.
You saved them.
How?
Eight times eight times eight they fly, whatever you do, don’t stay dry.
“Last time I was here, you told me there’s a lake,” I say.
Reed’s smile is cold as he waves his hand in the direction he just came from. “It’s just outside the shade, but the moment you reach the shore, the birds will descend.”
“Even if I jump in?” Don’t stay dry...
His laugh has a very sharp edge. “No. The birds won’t get you if you jump in, but something else will. Everyone who’s ever touched a drop of that water has been sucked into its depths—and come out in pieces.”
Chapter twenty-five
“If at first you don’t succeed, kill your opponent.”
—Myriad
I stand at the edge of the shade, my pockets full of leaves from the tree, Kayla and Reed beside me. The birds know what I’m planning. They must. They circle overhead, waiting to dive—to attack—the second I move.
Kayla gives herself a hug. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
Seven ladies dancing, ignore their sweet romancing. “There’s a difference between wanting to do something and knowing I need to do it.”
“Okay. Why do you need to do this?” Reed demands.
“I think it’s the way out.” I opt for honesty rather than evasion. As much as I don’t want to get their hopes up, I do want to get their hopes up. Hope empowers. It’s the reason we wake and the reason we rise. The reason we keep moving forward. “If you could leave, and choose one of the realms—”
“Yes,” they say in unison.
“No longer interested in peace?” I ask.
“Peace will always be my first priority, but I know I can’t achieve it here,” Kayla says.
I don’t have the heart to tell her she’ll never achieve it. Troika and Myriad will never call a truce, and their battles will always spill into the Land of the Harvest.
Reed frowns at me. “Tell me you have a plan to survive whatever’s in the water.”
“I do. I’m going to figure it out when I get there.”
He rubs the back of his neck.
“What do I have to lose? My life? Been there, done that.” But what happens next? I don’t believe in Fusion, not anymore. Not for anyone. But I’m in Many Ends. I don’t think I’ll get to enter into the Rest.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” Reed grumbles, “but I’m coming with you.”
Kayla moans. “I knew you’d insist.”
“You don’t have to—” he begins.
“There’s no way I’m staying if you’re going,” she interjects. “Don’t even suggest it.”
A little bubble of hope expands in my chest. There’s more to the girl than I realized.
Reed nods. “Just...be prepared for the worst.”
I hate the thought of risking their lives—and I use the term lives loosely—but if I’m right, and the song is the road map to freedom, this is our best option.
“I’m prepared,” Kayla says. “Every day, I’m prepared.”
“Your faith in me is humbling, guys.” I run the wire of a wrist cuff through two belt loops in Reed’s mud-stained jeans. Kayla doesn’t have belt loops, so I press her finger through the small metal hook. “Whatever happens, you keep a tight grip.”
Her nod is reluctant, but hey, a nod is a nod.
“Oh, a word of warning. There may or may not be seven women in the water, and if they try to romance you, you have to ignore them.” I grab their hands while they sputter in confusion. “Okay, then. On your mark, get set, go!”
