I glanced beyond the city wall one last time, the heavier pyroclasts settling while the ash and lighter particles hung in the air, making Heart seem encased in darkness. Inside the city, dragons rolled and gasped, fighting the ash they’d inhaled. The exploded debris from the temple still shone with templelight, eerie and beautiful against the blackness outside.
Not far from the Councilhouse, I found what I was looking for.
“Come on.” I slung my backpack over my shoulder and helped Sam to his feet. Janan’s people were still arranging the skeletons, so we had a little time. He was immortal. He probably wasn’t in much of a rush.
Sam and I staggered across the rubble-strewn roof until we reached the northern edge.
A dragon looked up, blue eyes foggy with weakness. The ringing in my head was faint, along with Acid Breath’s voice. <We have failed. The song lives on.>
Oh. When they’d dived earlier, they hadn’t been attacking Janan. They’d been going after Sam’s skeleton. If only Janan had known, he probably would have let them.
I held tight to Sam’s arm and spoke to the dragon. “Help us get down.”
<Why?>
“He has a phoenix down there. We’re going to save it.” Oh, such bold words.
<Why do I care about a phoenix?>
“If we save the phoenix, it will ruin whatever plans Janan has. I thought you liked revenge.”
Acid Breath let out a long cloud of ash-choked breath, then lifted his head until his chin rested on the edge of the roof. He drew back his mouth, showing the fangs as long as my forearm. <Hold on.>
Sam looked at me and shook his head. “I’m not holding on to that end.”
“Yes, you are. If he hurts you, I’ll shoot him in the eye.”
Acid Breath sighed. <I won’t eat you. Or boil you.>
“There, he promised.” I tried not to show my reluctance as I approached Acid Breath’s face, but my heart pounded and it seemed strange that of all the things that had happened tonight, this should scare me so much. What was one short ride in lieu of stairs?
I crouched and waited for him to part his teeth a little so I could hook my arm around the fangs. “You too.” I motioned for Sam to do the same as me. He used his good arm to brace himself, staring stoically at me as he did. I reached forward and helped steady him before telling Acid Breath we were ready.
The drop was sudden and swift, as though the dragon wasn’t used to such weights in his mouth. Which was ridiculous. I’d seen him eat a bear midair.
His chin thudded on the ground, jarring us as we landed. Sam leapt away, staggered, and leaned on the Councilhouse for support.
<You’re all tangled together now. Ugh. I should eat you both.>
Dragons just couldn’t be nice.
“Thank you.” I rested my hand on Acid Breath’s snout. The scales were cool, coated with ash. He’d breathed in too much, probably burned his lungs, too. He was dying.
<Go away.>
I nodded and left him. It was my fault he and his army were here. My fault they were dying in this city, rather than in the north, moving all the dragons to a safer location. Safer for now, anyway. The ash would rise into the upper atmosphere. It would block sunlight and smother the world.
I hoped Orrin and his group were far away.
“Let’s go.” I linked my arm with Sam’s good one and helped him around to the front of the Councilhouse and the half-moon steps. “Do you need to rest?”
He was pale and trembling, but he shook his head. “I’m fine. I can do this.”
“I know you can.” I paused halfway up the stairs and let him catch his breath. “But if you need a quick rest, I understand.” He’d lost a lot of blood.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m just upset that you’ve made me ride that dragon twice now.” He flashed a weak smile, and my heart folded up with fear and hope and anxiety. He was being so brave.
“That’s the last time, I promise. No more dragons.”
He nodded a little and started climbing the stairs again. “I’m going to hold you to that.”
I held his hand while I considered what we were doing, how unlikely it was to succeed. Did I even have a plan? It seemed like I was doing what I always did: rush in blindly with one ambitious goal.
Ruin Janan’s life by saving the phoenix.
“Maybe I can annoy him to death,” I muttered.
“I’ve never heard a plan more likely to succeed.” Sam paused as we reached the top of the stairs. “Inside, I think. We can exit through one of the side doors.”
“Good idea.” The glass on the double doors had blown out at some point, probably during the eruption. Our boots crunched the shards, and inside, we had to stop so I could pull out the biggest pieces. I didn’t want either of us to slip.
The Councilhouse was dim and silent. The air smothered our steps, and Sam’s rasping breath. We paused in a washroom to better clean Sam’s shoulder and rinse the blood and grit from our faces and mouths, but after a few long drinks of water, we hurried on. Janan wasn’t moving quickly, but there was no time to waste.
“I wish I knew what he planned on doing with the phoenix,” I muttered as we headed through the library. Then I realized how stupid I’d been. How blind.
I’d assumed we would all die in the first eruption, and that would be it. No reincarnation. Nothing. But Sarit had been right when she said Janan needed people to rule. He wouldn’t let them die.
Five thousand years ago, he hadn’t become the leader by lying to his people. He’d have needed to be strong, able to protect them. He would have kept his promises.
He’d promised to become immortal, then return to do the same for them. That didn’t mean they’d have equal power. It meant he ruled them for eternity.
I dropped to the nearest sofa and buried my face in my hands. “Sam,” I said. “Janan is going to make you immortal.”
31 VOICES
SAM COLLAPSED NEXT to me, breath heaving.
I studied him, the bloody mess of his hair, the gray pallor of his skin, and the red of injury and infection on his shoulder.
He wasn’t doing well. His body was giving out, and unless we found a medic soon, I couldn’t imagine he would recover. Sam was dying, slowly and painfully, and we both knew it.
“Are you sure?” His expression held a terrible mix of hope and despair. He didn’t want to die. No one did. And if everyone would soon be made immortal, maybe Stef and Armande and Whit and Sarit would be reborn.
But not me.
“I think so,” I whispered. “That’s why he wanted a phoenix. That’s why he has that knife.”
“No one will do it.” Sam’s voice dropped. “No one will consume millions of newsouls to be immortal.”
I didn’t argue, but I didn’t agree. They’d let Janan consume newsouls five thousand years ago. And they’d supported Deborl over the last few months. Some of them had gone out and captured a phoenix. Whit had accused me of losing my faith in people, but was it any wonder when everyone had bowed to Janan five thousand years ago? Some had changed—some knew better now, or loved newsouls and protested because of them—but for people, the memory magic meant they never had to feel the guilt of what they’d done.
“Besides,” Sam said, “the temple is gone.”
“Maybe he figured out another way.”
“Maybe.” Sam closed his eyes. “I wouldn’t do it. You know I wouldn’t.”
“He has the skeletons out there, from your very first lifetime. You might not have a choice.”
Sam heaved himself up, swaying on his feet. “Then we have to stop him.”
“Do you have a plan?”
“Besides you annoying him to death?” He offered his hand to help me up. I took his hand, but didn’t let him bear my weight. “The cage is hooked into electric lines. Maybe that’s keeping the phoenix from fighting back, or maybe Janan needs that in order to . . . you know.”