66
Edward’s generator gives out as the room falls silent, and all his screens go dark. Rook is already heading toward me, wrapping me in the circle of his arms.
“That was perfect,” he says into the crown of my head. “You are perfect.”
I cling to him and bury my face in the curve of his throat. His clothing is still damp, but he’s warm and solid.
“We should get going,” a voice interrupts us. It’s Fisher. He’s peering at his phone, his thumb scrolling down the screen. “Lieutenant General Rey says we’re planning to withdraw to the Veil within the next thirty minutes. We’ve made our point.”
That means it’s time to make a choice.
I’ve been avoiding thinking too hard about what comes next.
I’ve just exposed myself. Revealed everything.
My face is everywhere. I’ll never be safe in New Manhattan again.
But I started this, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
I stiffen, and Rook pulls back, cupping my face in his hands.
“Poet?”
“I want to be with you,” I whisper.
He’s sweeping away a tear when another echoing voice cuts through whatever he’s about to say. It’s coming from outside.
“You are surrounded,” it booms. “Come out now, unarmed with your hands up, and we won’t hurt anyone.”
“General Sol,” Henry says, standing at the window, peering down. “She found us.”
We break apart, pulling aside the curtains to find that we are indeed surrounded by dozens of guards and . . . General Sol.
I cover my mouth when I see who’s standing with her, their hands tied behind their backs.
“Domino!” I shout. “Journey!”
They’re both wide-eyed. Terrified. With them, also bound, are a few members of the Fog.
General Sol takes the bullhorn and begins speaking. “We’ve intercepted your little rescue mission to the Tempestade. We’ve recaptured every prisoner and acquired some new ones. But I’ll make you a trade. These two, in exchange for Poet Graves and the Solitude. Send them out.”
“What do we do?” Henry asks Ada, who has that look on her face that tells me she’s trying to think of something.
“If they don’t come out in the next two minutes, we’re coming in,” Sol adds, her voice slightly muted through the windowpanes. “You’re surrounded, and we know you’re outnumbered.”
I stare down at Journey and Domino. I can’t let anyone hurt them.
“I’ll go,” I say. “Maybe she’ll be content with just me, and the rest of you can sneak away while they’re distracted.”
“Poet,” Rook says. “Absolutely not. You aren’t sacrificing yourself.”
“Well, I’m not leaving my friends with her!”
Ada lifts up her hands in a slow down gesture. “Let me think.”
“We all go,” Fisher says. “But we keep our weapons. We can fight our way out against a bunch of useless Crusts.”
“What if they hurt my friends?” I demand.
Calliope shrugs. “So be it. They don’t mean anything to us.”
Rook whips around. “They’re my friends, too.”
“Crust friends?” she asks, her lip curling as she scans him up and down, while Fisher frantically types on his phone. “Maybe we shouldn’t have bothered saving you after all.”
Whatever admiration I felt for her during our rescue mission quickly evaporates.
She glares, and he glares back.
“You stay here,” Rook says to me. “I’m going down.”
Then he turns around and stomps out of the room. I’m so surprised that it takes me a moment to shout, “No you aren’t!”
I run to catch up, following him down the stairs.
“We’re doing this together,” I say. “You are not giving yourself up for me.”
“Go back upstairs, Poet,” he practically growls. “I’ll take care of this.”
“Rook, no!” I grab his arm. “I promised your father.”
That brings him to a stop a step below me. He turns around.
“He told me you’d probably try to sacrifice yourself for me, and I promised I’d stop you.” I swallow a thick knot. “Please don’t make me a liar.”
He clenches his jaw, his eyes darting around the stairwell before he fixes his stare on me.
“Please,” I say. “I want to do this together. I’m not helpless.”
He exhales a sharp breath and runs a hand through his hair.
“I know you aren’t,” he says. “I’ve never thought that.”
“Just a lot of trouble?” I ask, earning me a small smile.
“Worth every bit of it,” he answers, and then he holds out his hand. “Fine.”
We make our way to the main floor and burst into the cool night air.
The rain has stopped, and the sky is flashing and tumbling with amethyst clouds.
The storm is close, but I ignore the itching in my limbs.
When Journey and Domino spot us, they both dissolve into tears. I want to run to them, but they stand blocked by a pair of Patrols.
“We’re here,” Rook says. “Let them go.”
Sol lifts her chin. “I want your word that you’ll come quietly,” she says.
“So you can use us?” I ask.
“So you can help me,” she says, spreading her hands. “New Manhattan needs you. Everyone here needs you.”
“I don’t want to be a part of this anymore,” I say. “I thought I wanted to protect this city, but . . .”
“I will protect you,” she says, flattening her hand to her heart. “I swear to you that I will keep you both safe.”
I scoff. “You literally just threatened my friends. You turned a bunch of innocent people into fucking batteries! I’d be a fool to believe another word you say. Let them go. Let us go. You have no power here anymore.”
Sol’s expression darkens as I watch several emotions cross her face.
Disappointment. Fear.
And then anger.
“Fine,” she says. “If this is how you want to do it. Take them!”
Instantly, the Patrols start moving toward us.
Rook and I back up several steps. We’re unarmed and outnumbered.
That’s when several things happen at once.
The door to the Fog’s headquarters slams open, and a dozen armed people spill out. At the same moment, I notice a group approaching from down the street. It takes me a moment to make them out. Rook is watching, too.
“The Veil,” he whispers.
Then I remember Fisher texting on his phone a moment ago.
“You’ll have to go through all of us,” Henry says, stepping out in front.
My gaze flicks behind the general, causing her to turn around.
“Attack!” Fisher shouts, and the soldiers of the Veil charge from behind.
A few seconds later, every side clashes, weapons and fists flying.
We’re instantly plunged into chaos.
I rush toward Domino and Journey and quickly untie their restraints.
“You’re okay!” I shout, wrapping them both in a tight hug.
“Skies, I was so worried.” Journey is so pale that I wonder what they did to her.
I hug her a second time, relieved to see her again.
“C’mon,” I say as I drag them both toward the Fog’s headquarters.
“Go upstairs and lock the doors. There’s food and water if you need it. ”
“Get her!” Sol is screaming. “Don’t let her get away!”
I shove them both through the door, but Domino pauses. “Will you be okay?”
“I’m not sure,” I say, taking her wrist. “Dom, if I don’t see you again, I want you to know how much I’ve cherished our friendship. I love you. Thank you for being the friend I needed so much.”
She offers me a watery smile.
“Take care of Journey,” I add. “Promise me you’ll look after her.”
“I always do,” she says, and then she disappears into the building. I slam the door and turn around.
Everyone is fighting, and I search for Rook, but he’s lost to the crowd.
A fist swings at me, and I duck, crashing into a body, nearly losing my balance.
“There she is!” someone shouts, and I notice several Patrols advancing on me.
I shove my way through the crowd, my progress hindered by flying punches and kicks.
Someone seizes me from behind. My hands are yanked on either side.
“No!” I shout, fighting as I’m dragged toward where Sol stands waiting with one of her Circle Guards. We’re surrounded by dozens of people, and no one notices as she snags my wrist in a bruising grip.
She offers me a smile, but there’s no warmth in it. “Let’s go,” she says. “Once we get the pumps back up, we’ll start by connecting you to the network. I thought we’d use the Solitude, but I think you might be stronger.”
“No!” I scream. “No! You aren’t taking me! Help!”
She ignores me as she tugs me through the crowd, her Guard following close on my heels. Her grip is unyielding, and I feel the tip of a stunner pressed into my back. I fight and scream, but my words are lost in the commotion.
We turn a corner, heading down an empty street. A few more blocks, and the sounds of fighting grow distant.
How long will it take for someone to realize I’m gone? And how will anyone find me?
“Let me go!” I cry again.
“Shut her up!” Sol snaps.
A hand covers my mouth as I’m lifted off my feet. I sink my teeth into flesh, and the Guard howls as he snatches his hand away and drops me. My feet hit the pavement, my ankles rolling, but I don’t waste a second before I bolt.
“Oh no, you don’t!” Sol shouts.
She grabs my arm and yanks, and then I’m going down. I hit the street, my hands and knees scraping against concrete. The wind is knocked out of me as I roll over, and then Sol is on top of me, seizing my wrists. I try to fight her off, but she’s stronger than me.
“Get off!” I shriek, kicking, fighting, flailing.
She makes a claw with her hands and tries to scratch my face.
“Stop! No!”
Her expression is wild, her skin flushed. “You are mine, Poet Gr—”
Suddenly, General Sol is hauled off me.
And there stands my father, gripping her by the back of her coat.
“I said you couldn’t have her,” he snarls before he spins her around, cranks his fist, and punches her in the face. Her head snaps back, and she staggers a few steps. Blood coats her mouth and nose, and she touches her lips before her fingers come away wet.
“You bastard!” she cries, flying at my father, her dark hair streaking behind her.
They clash as I lie on the ground, trying to catch my breath. I notice that Sol’s Guard is crumpled in a heap on the sidewalk. Did my father do that?
Now, Sol and my father are rolling across the pavement, trying to land punches as they claw and grab at each other. I’m kind of shocked he knows how to move like that.
For a moment, I let them continue, trying to decide what to do next.
I should run for help. Jump in.
They roll again, crashing into the body of the fallen Guard as my father valiantly fights her off.
But Sol is a general.
The leader of an army.
My father might have trained for the Patrol over a decade ago, but it’s obvious that she’s far more skilled.
Before I can intervene, she snatches the Guard’s dropped stunner and blasts my father in the stomach. He goes flying, hitting the wall of a building, his head cracking against it with a sickening crunch as he slowly slides down.
He slumps to the floor, and now Sol is staring at me.
The clouds rumble overhead, and we both look up as the sky explodes with jagged streaks of Spark.
Our gazes meet, and I think we both have the same idea at the same moment.
I call to the storm.
I think she must, too.
I don’t know what I’m doing. Can I pull it away from her? Can I take it from her?
I close my eyes, and I try to feel it. I think of the night I waited on the rocks for Rook, when the storm became a part of me. It’s almost like I can sense it pumping through my veins. Somewhere along the way, I grew around the storm, offering it space, giving it a home.
As my eyes open, I watch General Sol raise her arms.
It all seems to happen in slow motion as the air around us condenses.
More rough lines of Spark spread across the sky, blanketing us in the glow of amethyst light.
Sol tips her face up. She’s done this so many times.
She understands the storms in a way I’m just coming to know.
The lines of Spark coalesce, arcing together before they spear toward the earth.
Maybe it will hit us both. Maybe it will miss us completely. Though I doubt it.
I call to it over and over.
Find me. Find me.
I don’t know how I know, but I sense it will choose only one of us.
It seems to stutter in the air, blinking out, jumping, and breaking.
Flashing left and right. I’ve never seen it do that.
And then . . . it hits me.
I moan as it sizzles through me, cooking me from the inside out. My vision smears, my mind warps, my knees shake. I cry out as I’m torn up, shredded to dust, and broken down into nothing.
The plasma arc swells, encasing me in light, and then I remember what I’m supposed to be doing.
I gather the sparks, picking up as many as I can.
Fumbling to bring them together. I wonder what Sol is doing.
Was she also hit? I can’t see her. All I can see are the purple reflections of a thousand tiny points of light crowding my line of sight.
If it comes down to a show of strength, I know she’ll win.
She’s had years of practice, and I am nothing.
No more than a second or two has passed, but it feels like I’ve lived lifetimes in this moment, lost somewhere between the sky and the earth and the atoms vibrating in the air.
The plasma arc winks out, and I’m shocked to discover a ball of pure magenta light hovering in my hand.
It might be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
I look up to find Sol storming toward me. She comes to an abrupt halt when she sees what I’m holding, as understanding dawns on us both.
The Spark chose me. Not her.
Her eyes widen, and her mouth opens.
Our gazes meet as a connection passes between us.
In that moment, we become two people burdened with something we never asked for. Bestowed a mantle as heavy as iron to wear.
The savior and her replacement.
If she’d gotten her hands on me, my life would never have been my own.
Just like hers.
I thought marrying Knox was a prison, but becoming the very Spark that powers New Manhattan would have been a life sentence from which I could never have escaped.
Every move. Every thought. Nothing would have been mine.
She watches me, and I lift my hand as she backs away a few steps.
I don’t know if this will kill her.
I think, in the end, maybe she was trying her best.
Aren’t we all?
Maybe I should feel sorry for her, but I would never have gone to the same lengths just to save myself.
She will stop at nothing until she has me.
So, I have no choice.
I pull my arm back and release the Spark with a roar.