Chapter Nineteen
Yun
I couldn’t shake the unease, like there was this thread inside me. Not just one, but a spiderweb that cast out, linking me to everything around us.
The monsters that still prowled just out of sight, the trees, the soil beneath my feet, the heart.
Even to Corsa, wherever he was. Since I couldn’t leave, this weight had settled on me, as though it was a fact I could no longer ignore or pretend not to know. Whatever had happened here last time had connected me to The Pitt in a way I didn’t understand, and it remained even after ten years.
I hated it. It felt like walking through an old attic, when little bits of dust and web stuck to a person and they couldn’t get it off no matter how hard they tried.
I glanced around me to find Kenyon to one side and Shear the other—the two who usually stayed right next to me—and I sighed.
They’d gotten dragged into this mess as well.
Normally, no one approached the heart of a stable dungeon. Why would they? It was well known that they couldn’t destroy the heart, and the dungeon would protect itself, the monsters heaviest in that area. Yet here we were, traipsing in that direction because we didn’t have another choice.
Well, I didn’t.
I opened my mouth to say that.
“Don’t start with that again,” Shear said. “We aren’t leaving you.”
“But—”
“Not a fucking chance, Spark,” Ingram called from ahead of us, even though I hadn’t thought he’d even heard our conversation. “So stop that bullshit right now.”
I threw my hands up then crossed my arms, not caring if I looked like a petulant child about it all. “You know, it’s difficult to have a fight with you all when Shear can literally read my mind.”
Ingram disappeared from ahead of us, reappearing right beside me, all but knocking Kenyon to the side. I found he used his powers much more freely now, as though he’d accepted it didn’t bother me anymore. “Good. So stop arguing with us. The only point to arguing is—”
“Make up sex?” I ensured my voice sounded absolutely bored of the idea, as flat and deadpan as possible.
“I was going to say better communication.” He flashed a wide smile my way. “But I wouldn’t turn down a quicky.”
“Of course you wouldn’t,” Shear said from my other side. “You never turn down sex.”
“What can I say? I’m just a man who loves to love.”
Carter joined us, appearing from beyond the treeline. He flicked his hand, spraying purple gore everywhere. “You know, you’re supposed to be helping, Ingram.”
“I am helping! I’m helping take Yun’s mind off all this.”
Carter lifted an eyebrow, calling Ingram an idiot without having to say it. “You’re supposed to be helping with the monsters.”
Ingram pointed at me. “Well, she was trying to say we should go back and let her stay here alone.”
I turned and shoved Ingram’s arm. “I can’t believe you just threw me under the bus like that!”
“He was mad—what do you expect from me? It’s not like he’ll be mad at you. It’s better for you to take the hit.”
I rolled my eyes, having gotten to know them well enough to know exactly what he was doing—distracting me. It was his way of taking my mind off what was going on, his way of trying to keep me from thinking about things that wouldn’t do me any good.
“How long do we have?” I asked instead, because the fact of where we were and what was going on wasn’t going to just disappear because of some banter, no matter how good it was.
Shear pulled out the tablet—he’d gotten to carry it since he was less likely to break it. “Twelve hours or so. The number isn’t specific, of course, but it’s a close guess.”
“And we’ll make it to the heart in time?” I’d already asked this, but I couldn’t stop the spiral my brain had decided to try out.
“We can feel the general direction of the heart, and with the information Jin gave us, we’ll make it in plenty of time. Probably only another two hours or so to get there,” Carter assured me.
Which should give us enough of a buffer to get there and try to work out what to do. I didn’t expect that to be the easy part, of course. It wasn’t like I had any idea what exactly had been done, let alone how to reverse it.
“That’s it,” Kenyon said as though he’d just had some grand idea.
We paused to stare at him, because he rarely had grand ideas—or any ideas at all.
“Her adrenaline has been spiking since we left the portal. We need a break and some food.”
Usually the rest of the squad argued with Kenyon. He wasn’t the planner of the group, after all, but it seemed an entirely different side had emerged. It was as though he’d pulled some rank on them, something none of them could say a thing against.
It reminded me that despite Kenyon’s lack of common sense, he really was a talented healer after all.
“Fine,” Carter said. “There’s a house up the road. There might be water there, and I’d love to shower.” He didn’t wait for an okay and instead turned in that direction, still plucking chunks of purple flesh from him and flicking them to the ground like trash.
A large gouge showed over his back, through his torn shirt—not that there was any real loss of the shirt itself. A wound like that would have put me flat, but him?
He walked as though he didn’t even notice it.
“Don’t worry,” Kenyon said, voice having lost that command from earlier. “The wound isn’t that bad and I’ll get him healed up when we stop.”
“Isn’t there a risk of infection or something? Especially since he’s covered in dirt and monster blood?”
“His corruption levels will be higher because of the blood being introduced into his body, but it won’t really hurt him. Plus, his corruption levels are always a bit strange. Another few minutes won’t make any difference.”
I trusted Kenyon’s medical opinion, especially since he knew far more about it than I did, but it still didn’t sit right. Even if he wasn’t going to collapse from it, it had to hurt, right? We were just ignoring his pain and going on like nothing had happened?
It reminded me of after Kenyon had healed Ingram, when Ingram had stumbled, righting himself, as Kenyon had gone to heal Shear. No one had been there to help Ingram walk, despite how horrible he’d felt, how weak.
“This is an esper’s life,” Shear offered, voice surprisingly gentle. He didn’t do gentle, much, and it seemed as though he was trying for my benefit. “We get hurt, we heal enough to keep going, and we do our jobs.”
“It isn’t fair,” I said.
“What about life is ever fair? Trying to work that out will drive a person mad. The truth is that none of us have it all that fair. We’re all just trying to do the best we can. I will assure you that Carter has endured far worse.”
“Maybe, but this time he’s going through it for me.”
“And do you know what that means? You say it as though it is a bad thing, like you think the wound has less value because he got it protecting you. The truth is very different, however. To him, that is a wound he was happy to take, a scar he would wear proudly. He’s been hurt more times than any of us could count, injuries that he hardly remembers, but this one?
This one matters because it’s one he got while doing something important to him. ”
My eyebrows inched toward each other, the words not making much sense to me. How could it make him happy to be hurt? How could he like the fact that it was my fault?
Shear sighed, then wrapped a hand around my arm. The touch didn’t shock me so much as the world going dark did, only for me to find myself in a familiar place—Carter’s mind.
The twisted circus was something I’d never forget.
Except he didn’t seem to notice us—Shear’s hand was still wrapped around my arm. Instead, Carter walked, light on his feet, no sign of the wound on his back in this form.
A soft sound filled the space, though I couldn’t identify it at first. I thought it was humming, until I focused more closely on the man before me, the one who somehow didn’t see us.
Carter was…singing? And his voice was beyond lovely—deep and compelling. He swayed slightly as he walked, seemingly thrilled. I couldn’t catch the words, but there was no doubt the song was a happy one.
The view disappeared as quickly as it came, as though Shear had given me only the smallest of glimpses. Then again, anything more and Carter would have definitely noticed it.
“We espers have little in the world to call our own, to value, to cherish. Carter has had nothing for his entire life beyond his squad. He’s fought and killed and taken wounds for the whims of others.
An esper’s life is pain, but you’ve given that pain a purpose, and that is a special thing for any esper. ”
I stared at Carter’s back as we walked, the blood leaking and staining the scraps of shirt that were left, and no matter what Shear said, I had trouble believing it.
I didn’t want anyone to hurt for me, especially not the men I loved.
Then the soft sound of humming drifted back to me. He wasn’t singing anymore, but the tune was the same, and it broke my heart.