Chaos (5 page)

It was hot and damp. The stairs were so steep Luc walked practically doubled over, using the rock walls for support. He felt dizzy with heat and closeness. Surely it had been hours since they’d started walking. But he had to keep going. He had to find Rhys.

After what seemed like an eternity, the slope leveled off. In front of Luc was a makeshift door, a curtain made from some kind of hide; the Figments passed through it without so much as a rustle. Luc shoved aside the curtain and felt a rush of relief so strong he could have cried out.

He had made it. This was the room where Rhys had taken Corinthe to recover; this was where Rhys had told Luc about the Flower of Life.

It was even warmer in here. A fire crackled in the corner.

There was a dark shape lying in the bed.

Luc swallowed hard.

No.

The blind chemist lay tucked under the same quilt Corinthe had used. Mags, his pet raven, sat perched on the headboard, cawing softly.

“Ahhh, my boy. Welcome back. Welcome back.” Rhys’s glazed eyes were fixed on the ceiling. But of course, he had recognized Luc. Luc had stopped wondering how Rhys’s sight worked.

Luc couldn’t form words. It was obvious that Rhys
was dying. His face had lost almost all its color, and his cheeks were as sunken as those of a skeleton. The skin of his hands was paper thin, as if he’d aged a thousand years since Luc had last seen him.

Luc took the archer from around his neck and pressed it into Rhys’s hand. It seemed the only thing he could do. “I’m sorry,” he said. His voice broke and he cleared his throat. “I stole it from you.”

Rhys shook his head, and returned the archer to Luc. “I won’t need it again.” A smile flickered across his face. “My time is done.”

“But …” Luc shook his head. It was impossible. Rhys had been fine—strong, happy—when Luc had left him. “Only a few days ago—”

Rhys cut him off. “Time moves differently in every world, my boy. Time moves differently for everyone.” Rhys gripped his blanket. “I went in quest of my one true love. I knew what I was risking. I am too weak, too old, too foolish. So I die an old fool.
I’m sorry, Miranda
.”

Rhys had his head turned away, so Luc didn’t know if he’d heard the man correctly. Before he could ask, Rhys’s sightless gaze was back on him. “What about you, my boy? Did you find your one true love?”

“Yes.” It hurt too much to think about, much less talk about. He hadn’t been able to share his grief. “But I lost her again. Corinthe died in Pyralis. She said it was how it had to be, but it can’t be.” He swallowed back the tightness in his throat. He could hardly breathe. “This can’t be the end.”

“I am sorry,” Rhys said softly.

Luc looked down, blinking back tears. He’d come hoping that Rhys would help him; he was the Radical who had once turned back time. There had to be a way. Luc hadn’t cried since Corinthe died. He wouldn’t start now. Anger replaced his sorrow. “Her death was supposed to put everything right again. That’s what she said. But just this morning, Executors attacked my sister. It was all supposed to stop. Why hasn’t it all stopped?” Luc’s voice cracked and he took a deep breath.

“The Unseen Ones work in mysterious ways,” Rhys said, and Mags cawed in agreement.

“Bullshit.” Luc was tired and desperate; he hadn’t expected Rhys to stand up for the Unseen Ones. “You know that’s bullshit. You warred against them once. You told me that you turned back time. Tell me how.”

Rhys shook his head. “I may have misspoken that night. The drink, the celebration …”

Despair welled up inside Luc, causing his chest to tighten like a vise. “No. You said time and space flowed like water. You said that love was eternal. Now you’re telling me it’s a lie?”

Rhys sighed. “No, my boy, it’s not a lie.”

“Then help me. Please.”

“Even if I wanted to, I can’t. I’m not long for this world, or any other, for that matter.” And it was true; Rhys seemed to be shrinking in front of Luc’s eyes. “Remember, Luc. The path to righteousness goes straight through the heart.”

“Riddles?” Luc was suffocating in the heat. He had crossed worlds to be here, and now Rhys was refusing to help. “I ask for an answer, and you give me riddles?”

“Life and death are the greatest riddles we must solve, aren’t they?”

“Goddamn it, Rhys.” Luc sank down on the edge of the bed and dropped his face into his hands. He had not thought about failure, because the thought of never seeing Corinthe again hurt too much. “No more riddles.”

Now, Rhys, his last chance, was dying, and there was nothing else to do. Corinthe was lost to him forever. It
had
all been for nothing. She was wrong.

Agony burned inside Luc. He lifted his head, stared down at his friend through watery vision. “She was my Other.…” He trailed off. “I just want her back.”

The bed shifted as Rhys, wincing in pain, pushed himself up onto his elbow. Luc heard his labored breath and thought how unfair it all was. Everyone was leaving him.

“What you want is not impossible.” Rhys’s voice was very soft. So soft that Luc thought he had misheard the man.

“What?” Luc’s heart beat fast. He was afraid to breathe, in case Rhys would take it back.

“
Almost
impossible, maybe,” Rhys said. His unseeing gaze drifted across the room as if he was remembering. A faint smile danced over his lips before his strength gave out and he sank back onto the bed.

Luc leaned over Rhys, holding the man’s callused hand between his.

“Almost impossible, I can work with,” Luc said desperately.
Almost
meant that there was a chance, however small.

Rhys smiled again, back in the present moment. “You are so like me. You are the way I once was. A passionate idiot.” His smile faded. “There is only one person I know of who has the kind of power you need. But she might refuse to help you. Be prepared for disappointment.”

“She?”

“Her name is Tess, and she is a Radical, like me.” Rhys seemed about to say more, but then he shook his head and continued in a stronger voice: “She is strong-willed. There may be no swaying her to your side.”

“What do I tell her?” Luc asked. “How can she help me?”

“She’ll take you to the place—” Rhys wheezed, unable to finish his sentence. “She’ll take you where you need to go. The Figments can help you find her. They will lead you to her.” Rhys made a weak gesture with one hand; several Figments materialized from the flickering shadows in the cave.

Luc was desperate to leave, but the sudden sickly pallor of Rhys’s skin made him hesitate. He couldn’t let Rhys die alone.

As usual, it was as if the chemist could read his mind. “I told you. Time moves differently for everyone; but for everyone, time does run out. Such is the way of things. To die here, at home, is enough for me.”

Emotion burned in Luc’s throat. This would be the last time he would see his friend.

“My boy, don’t be sorry. Death is a part of life.” Rhys closed his eyes and for a wretched moment, Luc thought the man had died there next to him. But he opened his eyes once again. “You must go now. Time also does not stand still, waiting for us to act. Good luck, my boy. May you find what you seek.”

“Thank you.” The words seemed pathetic and insufficient, but Luc didn’t know what else to say. “Thank you for everything. I will never forget you, I promise.” He swallowed. His last words to Rhys were so thick they stuck in his throat. “Goodbye, Rhys.”

“Goodbye, my boy,” Rhys said, withdrawing his hand. He had a faint smile on his face, as if he could see something Luc couldn’t.

When Luc and the Figments reached the mouth of the cave, the suns’ light was brutal. He stood for a second, blinking, dazed, filled with grief that felt like an animal clawing in his chest. If he quit now and went home, back to Jasmine, there was a chance the Unseen Ones would leave him alone.

But he knew he couldn’t give up on Corinthe. Finding her was like coming home to warmth after a long, brutal night in the cold. Finding her was what he had been waiting for, without knowing he had been waiting for it. Without her, he was only half a person.

He would never give up.

Something his mom used to say, some AA quote, probably, came back to him as he stood there, hesitating.

You can’t go back, Luc, you just have to keep going forward. One step at a time
.

The Figments had paused, too. They were waiting for him to decide.

“Take me to Tess,” Luc said.

The sand was halfway through the hourglass now. How long did Miranda have left?

The members of the Tribunal had long since vanished. She was alone in Vita, at least for the moment.

Could she find a way to free herself before they returned? If she could get out and find Ford, he would help her. Together they could take down the Tribunal. He must hate them as much as she did; he, too, had been imprisoned for treason.

A thrill raced through her. She remembered how young they had once been, how powerful. She remembered how they had once made a vast sun go dark; she remembered the sudden cold, and planets dying, shriveling to dust, until they looked like the ruined, puckered surface of Humana’s moon.

It had been intoxicating.

But she knew that it was hopeless. She was weak now—too weak even to cast off her human form, assumed so long ago, when she had first tried to ensnare Corinthe in her plot to ruin the Unseen Ones. There was no chance of escape. Her powers were diminished here, eaten up by Vita’s vast hunger. It was part of her punishment, she knew.

A fissure of steam began under her cell, and for a moment, Miranda wondered if the Tribunal had decided not to wait after all. If this was it, she would fight bitterly to the end. But it wasn’t a council member who appeared.

It was Tess.

“Come to gloat?” Miranda fought back the ache in her chest. She should have been beyond feelings now. Everyone had turned against her.

Still, Tess had once been hers. Born from a star Miranda and Rhys had created. A child of their power.

“I don’t have much time.” Tess gripped a small vial in her hand. Before Miranda could ask what she was doing, Tess opened it and overturned its contents.

Immediately, there was a horrible sound from the pulsing walls, from the very membrane of her cage—as if Vita were screaming. The potion hissed and steamed, and as Miranda watched, it began to eat through the floors, through the twisting strands that enclosed her, creating wisps of black smoke.

The air smelled like burning flesh, and the sound—the scream—continued to build.

“You gave life to me and I can’t let you die,” Tess said simply. “Now go, or the Tribunal will find you.”

Miranda fought another wave of feeling. This was the difficulty of all the time she had spent in Humana. She had become too sensitive. Too prone to emotion. “I meant what I said, Tess. I will try to find a way to destroy the Unseen Ones.”

“I know.” Tess took a step back. “I meant what I said as well. I will do everything in my power to stop you. I won’t have your blood on my hands. But we are still enemies.”

The potion, which could only be the blood of a Blood Nymph, burrowed through the living tissue, eating holes in Vita’s flesh, creating a tunnel in its wake. As Miranda slipped inside, the screaming crested, becoming a high, constant howl, the frantic wail of a dying animal.

The rib spires shook. The pulse of Vita quickened. This living world screamed in pain.

“Go!” Tess shouted at her, and then she wasn’t Tess anymore, but light.

Miranda wasted no time.

She followed the poison to her freedom.

All night, Luc followed the Figments across a landscape of rock and red sand, fighting back exhaustion, shivering in his jacket now that the suns had gone down. It was pitch-black—there was no moon in the Land of the Two Suns—and he had to follow the Figments by their whispers as they instructed him to
turn left, go forward, watch your step
.

It wasn’t until dawn that the Figments stopped. They had stopped, seemingly, in the middle of a desert, with nothing but red sand for miles in any direction. Several dozen feet away Luc saw a small pool—a puddle really—of silvery water. At first he took it for a mirage, a shimmering trick of the suns. But as he approached, the liquid rose into the air, until he could see himself reflected in the surface like a huge mirror.