Chapter 25
The jackaltooth—Luvic—bounded across the field, his powerful muscles rippling beneath the mottled gray fur. He didn’t run with the doglike lope of the jackal; instead, he moved with a forceful fluidity that was terrifying to watch.
His shoulder was bleeding. It was a bright red stain spreading over his fur. He was huge. Bigger than any jackaltooth I’d ever seen. Comparing Luvic to the jackaltooth under the Bard mansion was like comparing modern-day tigers to the sabertooth.
Fear gripped me and raked its claws down my skin. Luvic’s snarl shot through me, and the instinct that had kept my ancestors alive while the sabertooth still stalked the land screamed, Predator! Run!
I didn’t.
I stood as still as the stone columns in the distance, hypnotized by the way the gray and silver stripes rippled like violent waves over his fur. His orange eyes glowed even in the bright daylight.
He was huge. He was monstrous. He was hideous.
If a Bard were everything that was beautiful, a jackaltooth was everything that was not.
Twisted. Ravaged. Horrific.
He veered past Justice, darting past his knife, a snarl ripping from his throat. The meadow’s lacy white flowers were plowed beneath his claws, and dirt tore from the ground as he sprinted toward me.
The scent of star jasmine, heavy and perfumed, perfect in its sweetness, curled around me. The honeyed scent wrapped me in a delicious hug.
I lifted my hand, the flat of my palm out. “Luvic?”
Over his furred shoulder, I could see Justice sprinting toward us.
Luvic snarled. Justice threw his knife. It struck Luvic in the side. He roared and turned, batting a claw at Justice. His tail slammed into my stomach.
I flew back and hit the ground. The breath rushed out of me. I gripped the grass and the white flowers. My lungs spasmed, and the world tilted, going topsy-turvy.
Then the spasming stopped, and I dragged in a violent rush of air.
Oh.
Thank goodness.
Breathe.
Breathe.
I drew in the sweet, jasmine air, calming my heart and filling my lungs. Slowly, ever so slowly, my heartbeat calmed, and my lungs filled. I sprawled on my back, cushioned by the long, soft grass, and stared at fluffy, golden-bellied white clouds.
I smiled. My smile felt as lovely as honey spreading over a warm biscuit, so I smiled even more. It was beautiful. Everything was beautiful. I felt . . . Oh, why had I been so worried about the Den of Depravity? This wasn’t depravity. This was lovely.
I felt as if, my whole life, I’d been cold, beaten-up, and exhausted, and I’d finally slipped into a warm, jasmine scented bath and the water was embracing me. I floated in the pleasure and let go of everything.
I smiled, staring at the sky. There was no blue. No sun. There didn’t need to be. We had golden-bellied clouds. They were so low to the ground a person might stand on another’s shoulders and drag their fingers through the feathery mist.
I smiled and sent my fingers over the cushion grass and the lacy-edged flowers. Slowly, I propped myself up on my elbows and stared out over the field. Justice was there, crouching down in front of me.
Behind him, a jackaltooth sprinted toward a line of trees.
“Justice?”
“Hmm?”
I blinked at him. “Why is there a jackaltooth in the Den of Depravity?”
I frowned. No—that wasn’t right. That wasn’t a jackaltooth. That was Luvic.
“I mean, why is Luvic a jackaltooth in the Den of Depravity?”
He gripped my hand and pulled me to my feet. Then he tugged me against him and didn’t let go.
“That wasn’t Luvic.”
“It wasn’t?” Then where was Luvic?
“No. Humans don’t become jackaltooth, Mari. That was a monster. It’s just the sort of thing you’d find here.”
“But . . .” I took a deep breath.
The jackaltooth had disappeared into the woods. It was maybe a mile away—the dark line of the trees was fuzzy and blurred. There were shadows there—creeping, strange things writhing in the shifting blues and grays. It had a cold, dark, monstrous feel.
I shivered, and Justice gathered me closer, wrapping his arms around me.
“We should . . .” I was going to say “find our way out,” but then I stopped and tilted my head. “Do you hear that? Are the clouds . . . singing?”
A tinkling raindrop and lute sound tickled the air. It vibrated through the clouds and fell on us in sprinkling drops. The rain petted my ears and coated my skin. It was a happy, pleasure-filled noise.
“Oh.” I smiled widely, and Justice smiled down at me. His messy hair was russet-gold in the soft light, and his cheeks glowed with a pink flush. His eyes, which were usually world-weary and somber, were swirling with the eddies of long-repressed happiness.
“Do you know what I just realized?” he asked, his voice deep and languid like a Saturday morning spent in bed.
“What?”
He reached out and cupped my cheek in his hand, brushing his thumb across my jaw.
“If we stay here, Jagger will never control us again. We could live out our lives here. We could do everything we ever dreamed of. Just you and me. We could . . .” His eyes warmed and then became as hot as an August afternoon, scalding in their intensity. “Mari, we could be happy here.”
“But . . .”
His smile turned as tempting as homemade bread with strawberry jam, savored in bed, with clean white sheets spilling around you.
“It’s nice here.” He smiled, his thumb drifting up to the edge of my lips. “Don’t you think it’s nice here?”
I did. Of course I did.
The world we’d tumbled from was already fading. It felt like a movie I’d watched years ago and had already mostly forgotten. It didn’t feel real anymore. It didn’t feel important.
What was a movie watched long ago when real life was here, right in front of us?
Besides, Justice was right. If we stayed here, we weren’t mines anymore.
We were just Mari and Justice. We wouldn’t have to worry about Jagger.
We wouldn’t have to fight against his will.
We wouldn’t need to be afraid of conjurers or their machinations.
In this place, I wouldn’t hurt people, and I wouldn’t let people down. I could be happy here.
Wasn’t that what the sprinkling raindrop song was telling us?
We should stay here. It was lovely here.
“What about Griff? Rou?” I asked, struggling to find any reason why we shouldn’t stay.
Finn. I swallowed, clutching the invisible rope in my hand. Finn.
“They’d want us to be happy.” Justice bent close, his mouth a breath away from mine. The sweet jasmine fragrance coiled around us. “If someone loves you, they want you to be happy. Don’t you think? When was the last time we let ourselves be happy?”
He was right. I couldn’t remember. When had it been?
Was I happy with Finn?
Had Luvic made me laugh?
Was it happiness?
“I wouldn’t be the Knife. You wouldn’t be a lockpick.
We’d stay here, outside of Jagger’s control.
We’d . . .” He took a deep breath, his chest expanding.
A low shudder worked its way through him, and his pupils dilated, the black swallowing the green.
“Be free. Free to do everything we’ve ever wanted. ”
He was still kiss-close. I pressed my fingers to the freckles on his cheeks. He shivered at my touch.
Then I took a step back, pulling away.
Past Justice, I could make out the circle of stone columns, and beyond that, a gleaming white city. A figure in a long black dress hurried toward the walls.
“What’s she doing?”
“Who?” Justice frowned, turning toward Last. “She’s almost to the gate.”
Sure enough, Last had already walked across the field, past the columns, and made it to a tall white stone gate. Beyond it were white stone buildings clustered together. They were classical in style, rectangular and elegant. It looked like Pompeii before Pompeii was destroyed.
“We should go after her,” I said, starting forward. “We should stay together. We . . .” I shook my head, holding tight to the rope that connected me to Finn. “We have to go back.”
Justice sighed. “I was worried you’d say that.”
“Why?”
“Because then I’d have to do this.”
“Do wha—”
I was cut off as Justice’s hand shot out and struck the side of my neck.
I dropped to my knees, my muscles frozen, and pitched forward into Justice’s arms. He scooped me up, his finger digging into the bundle of nerves that left a person temporarily paralyzed.
I tried to struggle, but my hands fell limp at my sides, and my head lolled against his chest.
He smiled down at me, striding across the flower-strewn meadow like a man carrying his bride across the threshold.
My lips were numb, my body tingling. “You . . . yo . . . y . . .”
“You’ll thank me later.”
He pressed harder. Darkness fell like a sledgehammer.