Between (37 page)

I keep my eyes on Sam until I see his chest rise and fall. He is alive.

For now.

I curl my fingers around the knife on my hip and look at Whalen. When our eyes meet, he erupts in vicious laughter. “Everyone. Every single person you care for will be destroyed.” He slithers toward me. “You will pay the price for every muralet that’s ever existed.”

I walk backward, drawing Whalen away from Sam’s body. To my right, Seth lies on the ground, motionless. To my far left, Keiran is beneath the treefolk. I have no idea if the healing Seth performed before Sam’s arrival is enough. Around me is the Between, the place I identify with most—between two worlds, between two lives—and it’s dying by the second.

In front of me is the madman responsible for every bit of pain I’ve suffered since the day I turned seventeen. I lift my chin as determination takes over.

He will not win this.

“The price for what?” I counter. “Creating magic? Being more powerful than you? Existing in a world where you cannot?”

“Tell me, muralet,” he says, placing a finger next to his chin. “Why do you feel the need to fight for something that has taken so much from you?”

Whalen moves toward me at a steady pace, and I continue to walk backward. “The only one taking things from me is you,” I tell him. “You ran Marian into hiding. You sent the Mothman for Mom. You took Sam.”

“Magic!” he roars, throwing his arms into the air in a wide, sweeping gesture. “Magic took everything from you just like it took everything from me. I had a life. I had a love. I had—”

“Marian?” I force a loud laugh, just to hurt him. “You think she was your love? Is that why you wanted to kill her?”

His nostrils flare. “Marian and I could’ve made a life together, if only she weren’t blinded by magic.”

Blinded by magic? Marian
is
magic! How do you rationalize with someone so completely insane? The tip of my knife points directly at him. “Magic is who she was, and you wanted to kill her because of it.”

“Magic tore us apart. It ruins lives, Charlotte. Mine. Yours. Sam’s.” He lifts his hand in the air, and I see swirls of yellow sparks circling his knuckles. “I’m doing the world a favor by putting a stop to it.”

“You can’t kill me,” I tell him. “Without me, you have nothing to offer your followers.”

“Without you,” Whalen’s eyes flash, “my followers will die. Every single magical thing in existence will perish. The deals I have made will no longer matter.”

I dash to the side as he releases a shower of necrolate. One round misses me, crashing behind me with a sizzle, but the second round strikes my shoulder. Necrolate drenches the wounds left by the locnifs, seeping below my skin.

An ear-splitting wail of agony rings in my ears, and it takes a few seconds to realize the cry is my own. I’m suddenly on the ground, staring blankly at the sky.

Whalen’s laughter rings through the Between.

“Dad?” Keiran’s voice is quiet but strong.

Oh no.

My eyes drift toward the treefolk. Keiran struggles to his feet, holding tightly to branches to stay steady.

“Dad,” Keiran says again. “You don’t have to do this.”

Pain ravages my body. The necrolate burns as it spreads through my limbs, and I am agonizingly aware of every path of every vein beneath my skin. On top of that, my heart splinters as I watch Keiran’s face.

“Aha!” Whalen shouts, parading around with his arms outstretched. “Another life, ruined by magic.” He spins around and hurls a ball of necrolate through the air. Keiran releases a fireball in return. The two collide over the water, disintegrating in mid-air. Keiran collapses, too weak to stand, and Whalen laughs.

I need to move.

I need to, but I can’t.

My shoulders are glued to the ground, weighted by necrolate. The burn is everywhere now, not only in my veins. My head throbs. My teeth ache. My eyes feel like they’re covered in sandpaper. I will my legs to bend, but nothing happens. No matter how I try, my body won’t respond to the commands my brain is so desperately sending.

A new sensation begins—sharp, piercing pain strikes at random across my torso, like nails being driven into my skin.

Whalen stretches his arms over his head and sighs. He surveys the bodies around me. “What do you think, muralet? Who dies first? Keiran, Seth, or Sam?” He looks at me with his eyebrows raised as if he truly expects an answer. “Decide quickly, please. I want to make sure you’re alive to watch.”

My eyes land on Sam’s face. Is he aware of any of this?

“Sam it is,” Whalen says.
No!

Whalen steps over me to retrieve my knife from where it fell when the necrolate hit. He picks it up and crouches beside me, holding the blade in front of my eyes. “He’ll die by the weapon you brought.” Whalen grins wildly, his eyes manic. “Isn’t that the most poetic thing you’ve ever heard?”

My knife. No. He can’t use my knife against my brother. One swipe of that knife is all it will take to kill Sam.

He can’t.

It can’t be my knife.

Whalen cackles and rises, circling back to Sam.
Get. Up
.

A current of air pours over me, tangled with color.

I blink.

More and more colors fade in, swirling in the air. Red, blue, pale yellow, white. They dance and pull together, until I clearly see the outline of a face,
the
face, followed by a tall, slender body.

She steps out of the wind, her blue gown flowing behind her. Her long, wavy red hair spills over her shoulders, and her blue eyes ignite with love, magic, and power.

Marian
.

I am lost, overcome by the necrolate and overwhelmed by her presence. I want her with me, but I want her to leave.

No, Marian. Stay away. He’ll kill you
.

“Mmm.” I try to speak, but my lips, like the rest of me, no longer work.

“Shh. Don’t speak. You will need all of your energy to survive this,” Marian whispers, bending over me. “The necrolate is strong, but you are stronger.”

I want her to hug me. I need her to reach down and pull me up into her arms, comforting me the way a mother does. I want to hear her say that everything is going to be okay.

But of course, she can’t. The necrolate would kill her.

I find the sky again. Marian is wrong. I’m not stronger than this. Already, I feel my heartbeat slowing. The burning pain and piercing stings have been replaced by a numbness that’s settled over my body, growing heavier by the second. It’s like something is lying on top of me, forcing me to fight for every breath.

“Are you watching?” Whalen looks over his shoulder and freezes.

Marian rises to her feet, completely calm.

“Marian.” Whalen’s voice is hate and wonder combined. “You came.”

“Marian?” The sound of Seth’s voice lifts some of the weight from my chest. I shudder, and tears drip down the sides of my face. My gaze travels down my body to where he lies in the grass. He’s moving. I watch him crawl to his feet and sway slightly, pressing his hand to his head.

Seth’s immunity continues.

“You’re too late, Marian,” Whalen calls from across the water. “Your daughter is dying.”

“Seth,” Marian orders, stepping away from me.

“Heal her.”

Seth stumbles to me and drops to his knees. He looks exactly like a person immersed in death would look. His face is pale and his eyes are too large, with swollen, purplish bags beneath them. He breathes hard, like every breath is a struggle, and leans over me, giving me strength with his eyes.

“Hang on, Charlie,” he says, his voice cracking. “Hang on.” Seth lifts his hands over me and light pours from his palms.

Whalen flicks his hand and launches a ball of necrolate at Marian. Her figure dissolves, taking flight before my eyes. Piece by piece, the wind picks her up, and she is gone, vanishing as the necrolate passes through.

Whoa.

Whalen stares at the sky with his arms outstretched and releases a scream of fury. He storms toward Sam, hurling necrolate in all directions and shrieking Marian’s name. A wall of air bursts forward from behind Seth and me, launching Whalen’s necrolate in the opposite direction.

Above me, Seth curses.

Whalen lifts Sam by his hair, pulling him to a sitting position and crouching behind him.

Marian’s voice is beside my ear. I barely see the outline of her face. “Look for what you can command.”

I struggle to keep my eyes open. I command nothing. I have no power. There’s nothing left.

Whalen grips Sam’s shoulder with one hand and brings the other around his neck, pressing the tip of the knife against Sam’s throat.

No
.

The point of the blade pierces the skin and Sam’s body flinches. Whalen flashes me a grin.

“Charlie!” Marian’s cry is urgent. “Use your power! Use it!”

Sunlight drips through a crack in the clouds, streaming through the trees and puddling on the ground.

Concentrate
.

Live
.

“Charlie, no!” Keiran shouts, climbing to his feet again, and I wonder how much he’s seen, how much he’s aware of.

I can’t save Whalen now. Not after this.

A shard of sunlight pulls free, breaking from the puddle of light, and shoots through the air. Everything moves in slow motion. The golden ray arches in the air and comes down like a dagger in the side of Whalen’s head. He gasps and goes completely still.

“Dad!” Keiran cries, rushing toward him.

“Good girl,” Marian says. The outline of her face shimmers in the air over me.

Whalen releases Sam and falls backward. His eyes drift from my face to Keiran’s. Something shifts in his expression. The hatred melts away, and he blinks like he’s seeing Keiran for the first time.

Whalen’s body swells, splitting at the seams. Keiran covers his eyes as sunlight explodes through the cracks in Whalen’s body until he shatters into nothingness.

Keiran releases a loud, miserable wail and falls to the ground.

“Stay awake,” Seth orders me, ignoring everything happening around him as he works to heal me. “Don’t close your eyes.” His hands hover over my stomach. He moves them up and down my body, his face twisting with frustration with every pass. “It’s not working. The necrolate is too much. Dammit!”

“He needs your blood, sweetheart.” Marian’s voice is soft, soothing. I want to curl into her and sleep. She whispers so faintly, I’m not sure I heard her correctly.

My blood.

No. Seth can’t take my blood. He’ll be banished if PC finds out.

“It’s the only way,” she says, fading more and more. “He needs more strength.”

The only way?

I wince.

I put everything I have into lifting my hand off the ground. A deep gash left by one of the locnifs spreads across my wrist. Seth grasps my hand. “You keep your eyes open.” His voice trembles, riding on shaky breaths. “You do not close them.”

I pull my hand from his, lifting it higher even as the muscles in my arm fight against me. Further. Upward. My wrist by his lips.

Seth’s head jerks backward. His eyes show his horror. “No.”

My wrist falls against my stomach. Every muscle in my arm burns.

Seth’s hand rubs against my forehead. He stares at my wrist.

We both know that drinking my blood will give him the power to heal me.

We both know that drinking my blood could destroy his life.

His face crumples. “Charlie, stay awake!”

But I can’t. There’s a pain in my chest so sharp that closing my eyes is the only way to escape it. Every time I close them, things seem a little less real. The longer I keep them closed, the further I flee. I can’t feel the lower half of my body.

I hear Seth swear, feel him take my hand in his.

“I love you.”

His lips brush against my wrist, and everything fades.

T
WENTY
-T
WO

I
approach the sprawling stone apothecary center at the edge of Ellauria and smile at the green-and-black-haired pixie by the door as I enter. It’s the third time I’ve been here since we returned from the Between two days ago, so she doesn’t bother to ask which room I’m looking for.

There are Aegises posted outside Sam’s and Keiran’s doors, their bright orange chairs standing out in the completely white hallways. It’s ridiculous. Sam and Keiran aren’t threats to anyone in the Fellowship. The fact that they’re being guarded like criminals is annoying.

Still, Alexander decided Whalen’s death was a suitable trade for my and Seth’s complete disregard of his order to stay out of the Between, so I’m choosing my battles wisely. If only Principal Command knew the extent of disregard we had for the Fellowship’s rules, I imagine our situation would be far worse.

I stand in the middle of the brightly lit hallway between two doors. The Aegis outside Keiran’s door nods. “He’s awake,” she tells me.

Neither Keiran nor Sam has been awake for any of my visits so far, so I smile like I’m excited by the news, but it really only makes my stomach quiver. I killed Keiran’s father. I don’t know how he will react to me.

I pause outside his door, dreading this conversation.

If it were anyone else, I wouldn’t do it. But this is Keiran. Our friendship is one of the reasons I’ve survived my time in Ellauria so far. I take a deep breath and rap my knuckle against his door as I push it open.

The rooms are much nicer than the sterile hallways would have me believe. They’re cozy, more home-like, and best of all, not completely white. The walls are painted a warm shade of brown, the color of creamed coffee, and the carpet is thick and soft beneath my feet. There are cushioned armchairs in each corner and a bookshelf beneath the window. Magic doesn’t require medical carts or IV bags or needles, just a nice, relaxing place to recuperate.

“Keiran?”

He lies in bed, his arms resting on top of the navy-blue comforter, staring out the window. There’s no indication he hears me—no movement, no glance, and certainly no words. I bite my lip and steel myself against the painful awkwardness of facing a friend who may hate me.

Our friendship is worth this conversation
.

I ease the door shut and set a bag of peanut M&Ms on the table next to the bed. I’m running out of them. Just a few bags left before someone will have to pick up more from the mortal realm. I had a joke all prepared about it, but I don’t think he wants to laugh with me.