Chapter 56 Nothing Cradles Me Anymore
Nothing Cradles Me Anymore
Desdemona
I
look at the sky as more snow falls. White collects on the trees, scattered over the leaves.
Soft murmurs pick up through the crowd. They all look up at the sky in awe. It must seem like a miracle to them. Only I know it’s the opposite.
Someone laughs, mumbling about a snowflake in their palm.
Dustings of white shine in the dark-haired Folk.
But the snow picks up, a cold breeze in the air.
I look at Lucian, noticing the wrinkle between his brows.
I look at the crowd. If it gets worse, like I think it will, how can I get them out of here?
Oh please, let this be a hallucination.
If only life were that easy—if all the bad things were just nightmares. If I could just wake up.
The world shifts. Ever so slightly. The smallest of tremors. Nothing I haven’t felt before.
But I rise to my feet.
The tops of the trees rumble, something fierce picking up in the air.
People stand, looking amongst themselves for an answer.
There’s a loud groaning noise. Then, right beside me, a tree crashes to the ground, missing me by centimeters.
The wind from the crash hits my face. At least a dozen people are trapped beneath the tree.
My head snaps up. I search the crowd for Lucian. He was right next to me. He could’ve—
A hand grabs my wrist—his hand, and we begin to run.
I glance behind me as we dodge rocks and branches. Damien stops, trying to lift the tree. Others step forward to help him. They’re doing what I should be doing. What I promised them all.
“Lucian!” I pull against his grip. “We have to help.”
He grips my arm hard. “It will do no good.”
I shake my head. “How could you—”
His eyes darken, cutting me off. But the look in Damien’s brown eyes isn’t dark or severe. It’s hopeful.
It’s good.
There’s a light in his gaze. A light I don’t hold anymore. A light I should have protected from the storm. A candle I should have shielded from the wind.
I pull away from Lucian, sprinting toward the people I promised. The prince shouts my name, but I don’t stop. He follows close behind.
I reach Damien, bending down to grab the other side of the tree trunk. Lucian stays beside me.
“Help, or leave,” I whisper to him.
Without a word, Lucian grabs the bark.
With all my strength, the dozen others and I lift the trunk.
My breath aches in my chest, and my stomach churns with nausea.
There’s at least twenty people beneath the trunk.
Only a few still breathe. Some of their legs are broken, others completely crushed.
Bloodied wounds cover their skin, wrists twisted in the wrong direction.
I spot a girl with her eyes open and offer her a hand. I wrap an arm around her waist and guide her to lean against a nearby tree. I try to mimic that movement again for the next person I see, but another tremor rocks the world, pushing me to the ground.
Damien meets my gaze across the dirt, his hands pressing into the ground. His body shakes with the force, his voice following. “What’s going on, Red?”
I can’t tell him. I can’t tell anyone.
This is the Weapon. These are the consequences of my actions.
I knew the moment I touched the contraption that I was connected to it.
I don’t know how, or when, or why—but every single disaster, the tremor on Ilyria when we found the silvers, the academy collapsing, they all happened after I used my magic.
My destiny of destruction.
I used the magic of the Memorium. It must have been too much. But I have to do something about it.
I reach for Damien. He takes my hand. Together, we try to stand again, but I feel the next tremor clawing at my mind, debilitating. Screams pierce my eardrums, like shrapnel digging into my brain.
Damien’s nails sink into the dirt as he tries to push his way up. But he can’t even stay in one place, his body thrown backward, a tree breaking his fall.
I reach for him, stretching far to grasp his hand. Lucian grabs mine. Together, we rise to our feet.
“Where’s the nearest mirror?” Lucian demands over the screaming and the shaking world.
Damien begins, “We need to help them—”
“If you stay, you die,” Lucian cuts him off. He sounds like a king—like he knows what he’s talking about.
I look up at Lucian, my voice shaking. “What are you talking about?”
Lucian doesn’t answer. “We need a mirror,” is all he says.
Another tree groans overhead. The ground shifts beneath my feet, nearly throwing all three of us down. The tree crashes, sinking into the ground as people scream. They don’t last long.
“My old dwelling or the community mirror,” I say, breathless. Turning to Damien, I reach for his hand. “Come with us. Please.”
Damien doesn’t take my hand. “I can’t leave.”
“Damien, the last time you said this, everything went to shit! All our lives!”
He frowns. “Mine didn’t go to shit, Red.”
I step backward. My body feels hollow.
At once, Lucian twists. His hands rise, and shadows surge around us, spiraling into the air. The darkness slams into a trunk just before it crushes us. But the only person here who would die is Damien.
Lucian holds the tree back, arms straining beneath the weight. The ground shifts again. I stumble a step back—then launch myself forward, slamming into Damien and Lucian. I drive them to the ground, and Lucian releases his shadows, the tension easing from his shoulders.
The tree plummets behind us. The impact splits my ears.
Lucian takes a deep breath, looking at Damien. I follow his gaze. I’m not leaving him. I won’t—
Then Damien’s eyes soften, the wrinkles in his forehead smoothing out. He exhales, tension leaving his body. For a moment, it’s as if Damien has died, and something else has taken over.
He shakes his head and frowns. Beneath his breath, he whispers, “Okay.”
“You’ll come—”
“I’ll come,” he answers instantly.
I could sob, but instead, I nod and pull us to our feet.
The three of us run. I take the lead toward the community mirror, but beneath my feet, the packed dirt is cracking.
Every step I take leaves a web of new fissures, long and jagged, each one wider than the last, with only darkness beneath. I am pulling apart this world.
It’s all me.
A strong arm wraps suddenly around my waist, lifting me off the ground.
My breath catches in my throat. I twist, startled—ready to fight—until I see Lucian.
He lowers me gently, his touch lingering a second too long, considering the peril we’re in.
I glance behind us. Those once small fissures have split open—right where I would’ve stepped.
It’s nothing like the cracks from before. This is a dark, gaping hole.
If he hadn’t pulled me away… I would’ve fallen right into the center of the world. I don’t want to think about what that would mean.
Something flashes overhead. Red streaks tear through the serene blue sky. For a heartbeat, they glow like veins of fire etched into the heavens. The red twinkles, shining as the streaks pull wider, overtaking the blue.
Like cracks in the universe.
Then the world itself dims, as if someone turned the sun off.
“Aibek!” I shout, breath shaking.
“Just get us to the mirror!” His voice is strained. He stumbles but catches himself, his steps growing slower, heavier, as if his body is forgetting how to move. I slow down and offer him my hand. He doesn’t take it.
“Hey,” I whisper, breathless. “We’re gonna make it.”
Lucian meets my gaze. His eyes droop, sweat beads on his forehead, and snot drips from his nose.
“Desdemona—”
Another step, and then he crumples, hitting the ground with a choked gasp. Damien collapses a moment later, as if pulled down by the same invisible weight.
I drop to my knees, shaking Lucian’s chest. Feeling for a pulse. He’s breathing. They both are.
Good.
My panic barely has time to settle in before something rams into me, knocking the air from my lungs.
Arms wrap around me. A voice breaks as it says my name, her head pressed into my chest. I know these hands, this scent—I’d know them anywhere. She pulls away, reaching for my cheek.
“Oh, Desdemona.” Mom’s voice trembles as she pulls back just enough to cup my cheeks. Soft brown eyes search mine.
I miss my brown eyes.
My powerless hands.
The softness of her touch and the roughness of the quilts we slept beneath.
I clutch her wrists as if they’re the only solid thing left in the world. The feel of her skin brings tears to my eyes.
“Oh my gods,” I whisper.
“We don’t have much time—”
“You’re here,” I say. “You remember?”
My mom nods. “I remember, baby.”
“Oh my gods,” I say again, wrapping my arms around her as the world shifts underfoot. “Why are you here?” I ask. “You need to get out!” I pull away, searching the space for a mirror, anything with a reflection.
She needs to escape…
“Baby, it’s okay,” she says, clasping tight to my forearms.
“No, it’s not! People are dying.” I think of the Weapon. “You could die. You have to leave.”
I didn’t bring back her memories for her to die. Can we run? Find a mirror? I look at Damien and Lucian, limp on the floor. How could I carry them?
“Baby,” she says again. Her voice severe. “I’m not leaving.”
For the first time, I just look at her. Not the woods. Not searching for a way out.
I look at my mom.
“Not leaving?” I ask.
“I came to warn you. You have to know—”
Just to her right, a branch the size of her crashes to the ground, shaking the world. If it were a few feet closer…
She’d be dead.
“Mom, you can warn me later. Right now you have to—”
“Mial connected your power to the Weapon—”
“—He wouldn’t—” I shake my head.
She clutches me tighter. “He’s not the only one to blame, baby. I am, too. I’m just as much at fault here—”
“No, he wouldn’t do that,” I say, taking a step back. She lets me move away. But as I do, I can’t help but think: how else?