“Glenn?”
The voice was vaguely familiar but drawn out and indistinct, as if it came from the end of a very long tunnel.
“Can we move her?” A boy’s voice.
“No.” A woman this time.
“Should we give her more?”
“More could kill her.”
More of what? Glenn tried to look up, but her head seized in pain.
“They’ll be here soon,” said the boy. “Aamon says they’re
pouring through the border.”
“How many?”
“Thousands. Bombardments are destroying everything within a mile of the border. Aamon says Karaman and Redfield are overrun.”
One of the voices moved through the darkness and lowered itself down next to her. Through the haze something familiar washed over her, the feeling of rough wool on her fingertips. Warm skin and the smell of cloves.
“Glenn?”
Skin intersected hers, sending ripples of heat through Glenn’s body. She opened her eyes slowly and saw his, deep brown and framed in thick lashes. A splash of blood was on his cheek.
“Glenn, it’s Kevin.”
Kevin. Gold flashed in her mind’s eye, and despite a jolt of pain, Glenn shot away from him, farther out into the dark, hidden. She squinted against the candlelight on the other side of the low-ceilinged room. Kevin. Opal. A ladder rose to another floor behind them. They were underground. Glenn invited the wind or the earth to come and knock them aside. The walls shuddered, but that was all. When Glenn tried to stand, her legs balked and a wave of nausea sent her crashing back down onto the stone. She turned her head and was sick on the floor.
“What did you do to me?”
“It’s nightshade,” Kevin said, his body distorting as he approached.
“Poison.”
“Medicine,” he insisted. “It separates you from Affinity for a while.”
Glenn’s stomach clenched, but there was nothing left inside her.
Time leapt forward. Now the woman was standing by her side with a small bowl in her hands. A brackish green liquid sloshed in the center of it.
“Drink this.”
Glenn pushed it away.
“It helps with the side effects. You’ll feel better.”
Glenn squinted up at the boy. The candlelight in the room
stabbed at her eyes, yet for a moment his form solidified and he was Kevin Kapoor again. Glenn’s stomach churned. Her hand trembled as she reached for the bowl in Opal’s hands. It smelled dimly of licorice.
Glenn shut her eyes and forced herself to swallow.
When she was done, her head fell back against the stone wall, and as she looked up at the dark rafters, snippets of the outside world filtered down. It was night now, and cold. A bird of prey glided far overhead while the earth drew up around her in tight hillocks. The river water flowed by, swift and cold and full of darting life. It was like a dream Glenn kept slipping into.
“Listen to my voice,” Opal urged, squeezing Glenn’s hand.
“Block out the others.”
“I’m fine,” Glenn insisted and pulled her hand from Opal’s.
Kevin and Opal were kneeling in front of her. Their outlines were solid enough, but the air around them pulsed and wavered. Glenn braced herself for another sick lurch, but it didn’t come. Slowly, the nausea faded and the clang and thump behind her eyes eased.
“What do you remember?” Opal asked.
“Sturges,” Glenn said, unsure, trying to stitch frayed ends together. “Then we were here and …” Glenn paused. “Aamon. Is he — ?”
“He’s fine,” Kevin said, his voice low and soothing. “He’s outside keeping watch. Your mom’s alive, but she lost a lot of blood.
Glenn, I didn’t know. I had no idea that she was — ”
“What’s happening now?” Glenn said, cutting him off.
“Everything you remember was two days ago,” Opal said. “When the Magistra fell, Sturges saw his chance and began his bombardment.
His soldiers are crossing the border now.”
“What about the Magisterium’s army?”
“There are skirmishes, but the Magistra has been doing their fighting for the last ten years. They’re no match for Sturges’s troops.”
“Aamon says we fall back,” Kevin said, stepping forward to steady her with a hand on her arm. “Everyone. Give up ground to gain time and reorganize.”
Glenn flattened her palms against the wall and awkwardly
worked her way up until she was standing, her legs quivering like a baby’s.
“I can’t stay here,” Glenn said. “Without the bracelet …”
“We’ll talk to Aamon,” Kevin said. “Find a way to get you home.”
“Fine,” Glenn said. “Let’s go.”
As Glenn took a step toward the ladder, a sharp pain seared through the nightshade, knocking her to the floor in a heap. Miles away, Glenn couldn’t tell where, the air was torn apart by massive explosions, just like the ones she felt in Bethany. Glenn didn’t see it or hear it so much as feel it, a wave of violence reaching out and smashing into her, like an exploding star. It was a town, hundreds of people, mostly women and children. The cataclysm came without any warning. Houses, the work of the people’s bare hands, were ripped apart. The ground torn open. Bodies. Glenn retched as they fell with sickening thumps onto the ground, the life pouring out of them. There was a pause, and then a great rushing sound as the grief of the survivors washed over Glenn.
She tried to push it away, but there was another explosion and then another. Town after town fell. The air was thick with death. Behind it all was another force, this one made of thousands of men marching in lockstep, deliberate as machines, across the border. Glenn knew Sturges was at the head of it. She could feel him grinning.
And then it was gone and Kevin was kneeling beside her, his hand at her elbow, frantically calling for her.
“Glenn?” He turned back to Opal. “The nightshade.”
“No!” Glenn seized his arm. Her head was pounding. It was a struggle to breathe. “Take me to my mother.”
“No. Glenn, listen — ”
“Hundreds of people I don’t know just died, because I took away the only protection they had,” she said in a vicious whisper. “I won’t let him hurt anyone else. Not because of me.”
Kevin began to protest, but Glenn’s fury stopped him cold. He backed away and Glenn threw herself onto the ladder and climbed up into the house. Wavering on unsteady legs, Glenn made it out to the hallway and then stopped at the doorway of the bedroom she had once stayed in.
In the dark, she could see the outline of the bed and a still shape lying under the covers. Glenn’s breath caught in her chest. She could feel Kevin and Opal standing behind her in the hallway, waiting. Glenn took a deep breath and stepped into the room. As she drew closer to the bed, her head swam and she had to reach out and brace herself against the wall.
Opal lit a candle behind her, then another, filling the room with an uneven amber light. Glenn fixed her eyes on the wall above the bed.
She couldn’t bring herself to look at her. She flinched as shards of the world outside cut through the haze of the nightshade. More fire. More steel. More pain.
“If we remove the bracelet,” Glenn said, “she’ll go back to being what she was. She’ll be able to stop Sturges.”
“Yes,” Opal answered. “But, Glenn — ”
“Can you stop him?” Glenn snapped. “Can anyone here?”
Opal said nothing. Glenn drew the blanket aside until she saw the edge of the bracelet. It was huge on her mother’s birdlike wrist. Its jewel shone dully. Glenn touched its surface, feeling the ridges and planes. It was strange to see someone else wear it. For a confused moment, it was as if she was in a dream and looking down at her own body ravaged with age. Somewhere far away, the air was torn with another explosion. It hit Glenn like a fist to her chest. She had to get this over with. She had to put things back the way they were.