Asunder
Page 39“No. If we leave this room, he’ll trap us somewhere. I don’t have the key. There’s no way I’d be able to get us out.”
“So we stay here?” Cris looked dubious.
“Doesn’t that trap us here instead?” Stef eyed the door like she might run for it.
“I’ve never been here.” I didn’t want to be here now. “Maybe Deborl made a mistake when he left. Maybe going somewhere in the temple makes it more likely to be available again. All I can tell you is that I’ve been in the temple twice before, and I’ve never seen this room.”
Stef shook her head. “We’re still trapped.”
“Important things happened here. This place holds answers. We won’t find anything in the rest of the temple.”
“I just want to go.” Stef edged toward the archway. “There’s no way out from here, but the rest—”
“There are no exits.” I balled my fists. “I know it’s hard to understand, but there is no way out. I don’t have the key.”
“Sam will free us.” Cris looked hopeful.
“No, he won’t.” The temple had no temperature—not too hot or cold—but chills raced across my body, and I shivered. “He won’t save us, because he won’t be able to. It was a mob out there. I don’t even know if Sam’s okay.” The last words choked me.
Both of them wore pinched expressions, and Cris touched my elbow. “I’m sure he’s fine. He’s probably working out a plan to take the key right now.”
I shook my head and described what I’d seen. No need to go easy on them. I didn’t see how our situation could get any worse.
“Ana!” Stef jabbed a finger toward the archway we’d come from. It was gone. “He locked us in. Now we really can’t get out.”
“We wouldn’t have gotten out anyway!” The constant pulse of the temple made my head throb. “What about that is so confusing? No matter where we are, we’re not leaving. Sam can’t rescue us. Deborl wouldn’t free us if his life depended on it. No one else knows how to use the key. We’re stuck.”
“All right!” Cris rubbed his forehead as though to press a headache into a smaller, more manageable size. “Both of you, please. We need a plan.”
“Like what? Escape?” I scowled and gestured around the room. “The only thing I see is the hole under the altar, and I don’t recommend it.”
“We’re just as bad off as if we’d left,” Stef muttered, just loud enough that it was meant to be heard.
I shook my head. “If we’d left, we would be stuck in a tiny box.”
“You don’t know that. You’re guessing on all of this.” Stef loomed over me. “You’ve been leading us nowhere the whole time, with no idea where you were going or what you wanted to accomplish.”
“Don’t pretend like you know anything about me or the way I feel.” Her face was pink in the red glow, and I had pushed too hard.
I didn’t care. “I know enough.” She kept antagonizing Sam about his closeness to me, but she was the person keeping a stash of his photos and letters. I wanted to hurt her. “I know how you disguise your feelings for Sam. You fooled him, but he’s used to your flirting and never took it seriously. But I know you meant it.”
She stared at me like I’d said she had chicken feet or hands growing from her head, but that was Stef. Pretending even now she didn’t really care.
I knew I shouldn’t, but I said it anyway, my voice low and too calm. “I told him that you love him.”
Her face went blank.
A wiser person would have stopped there, but I went on anyway. “If you were as brave as you claim, you’d have told him lifetimes ago.”
“And I suppose you have? No, that would ruin your tortured newsoul existence.” Her voice grew stronger, angrier. “You can’t let yourself be happy, can you? Well maybe this will fix it: you’re not coming back. There’s no skeleton in here with your name on it, so when you die, that’s it. Gone. I’ll still love Sam, and thanks for telling him, by the way. Now he’ll have time to figure out a response in our next lives when you’re not here. Are you happy now? You really are as tragic as you think you are, butterfly.”
She might as well have stabbed me; it hurt the same.
There was a whole list of things I shouldn’t do, including asking if she could find his skeleton among all these—I could—and telling her about his reaction when he found out how she felt. But I didn’t do any of them, because it would be cruel and petty. Not that I’d been much above cruel and petty so far, but I didn’t want her to hate me forever. And, romantic feelings aside, she was still Sam’s best friend.
“There’s no point in arguing about it, Stef.” My voice was more level than it had ever been, but surely she could hear the strain. “Because we’re trapped. We’re never leaving this room.”
29
IMMORTALITY
AFTER STARTLING STEF and Cris into silence, I marched over to Meuric’s skeleton and kicked the skull.
Whatever magic had been holding it together must have failed when the shackles came off. The skull skittered across the floor and dropped into the pit beneath the table.
I kicked an arm, and several bones cracked against one another, the floor, and a table leg. Pieces of Meuric dropped out of sight, making no sound on their way down. If they ever reached an end, I didn’t hear the clatter.
Still angry, I kicked his ribs, hips. Smaller bones turned to powder as my boot hit them. “I hate you,” I hissed, as the last of Meuric vanished.
Stepping around the dust, I almost felt bad for kicking Meuric down a pit again.
“Okay,” I whispered to myself, and knelt by the skeleton now caught in shackles. Deborl. I hated him, too. More than I hated Meuric. The hate twisted inside me like a snake, uncomfortable, but clean and sharp and determined.
As I touched the shackle, electricity zapped through me. I screamed, and lost feeling in my right side. My arm hung uselessly.
“Ana?” Cris hurried toward me, looking around for whatever had attacked me.
I shook away the buzzing in my head. “Don’t touch the chains.”
He sat with me until feeling in my fingers returned, and then, more carefully, I climbed onto the table and tried to kick Janan off.
He might have been a human-shaped lump of silver himself. He didn’t move. Cris even joined me, but no matter what we tried, we couldn’t budge him.
The knife, however, did come away when we worked together. Cris pried Janan’s grip off the handle just enough so I could slip it out. The blade was silver at the base, but the end looked as though it had been dipped in liquid gold. Janan’s hands returned to their original position, but now they held only a memory of the knife.
I didn’t have anything to do with it, though, so I left it on the table.
“You will die!” shouted the walls, incorporeal Janan.
“Why don’t you lick my shoe?” I propped my boot on dead-Janan’s face. “You won’t do anything to us. Not here.”
Red light swirled around the chamber, and Janan’s screams resounded through the room as he called me names I’d never imagined could be put together like that.
But he was without substance, and we were already trapped.
“You’re just a human, like us!” Not quite true—he was powerful, incorporeal, and consumed and reincarnated souls—but he’d started out human. Reminding him of that was satisfying. “Just a short human!”
“Is that your plan?” Stef asked when the screams faded. “Annoy him until he kicks us out?”
“No. I’m working on a better one.” I flashed a tight, fake smile. “This is just the beginning.” I kicked dead-Janan’s head, but numbness rushed through my toes as though I’d kicked a block of ice.
I hopped off the table and marched around the perimeter of the room.
A few minutes or an hour later, Cris fell into step beside me and I said, “If you’re here to chastise me for being mean to Stef, I don’t want to hear it.” I twisted my scarf in my hands, hating my obvious fidget, but I couldn’t stay still.
“No, I thought you’d probably done enough of that yourself.”
“Mmm.” Noncommittal. I’d picked it up from Sam, and it seemed to work for whatever the other person wanted to hear.
“Great, thanks. Deborl didn’t feed us before he trapped us. Do you have any idea how long it’s been?”
“A day? A week? Five minutes?” I shrugged. “Time passes differently here, and not even at a consistent rate.”
Moriah had told me time mostly mattered to the person measuring it, which had made me laugh because she built clocks. SEDs and clocks didn’t work in here, but now I was extra aware of every second and how they carried me closer to my end.
“So what we need is someone who can make doors.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Well, yes. Pretty much.”
“Stef?” He waved in her direction. “You don’t happen to have anything on you that would make a door in the wall, do you?”
Her glower was dragon acid. “Go roll around in rosebushes, Cris.”
“I don’t think she appreciates your humor,” I muttered. As if I could blame her. At this rate, we’d be out of Janan’s way in a few days because we’d have killed one another. Well, Stef would kill me, then Cris, and then she’d be here all by herself. And I wouldn’t feel bad for her.
“Few really do.” He kept pace with me easily. “Why are you walking?”
“It feels like if I stop, then I give up. But I don’t know what to do.” My throat tightened with the confession. He was going to think I was weak, just like Stef did.
“Hey.” He tugged my arm. I stumbled and he caught me, one hand on my back. “Sorry. Hey.” He faced me, expression serious. “We’re going to find a way out, okay? And then you’ll rescue Sam from the angry mob, reclaim your books, and find a way to stop Janan from ascending.”
“So while I do all these miracles, you’ll be where?” My whole body ached, and I really wanted to lose myself in the piano, but it was gone. Smashed. And my flute? Sarit had put it in the Councilhouse, but they might have found it.
Cris said, “I’ve been remembering, too.”
I waited.
“Being here has made me remember a lot of things we’re not supposed to know. The memories are so old they feel like dreams or someone else’s life, but I know they’re real.” He looked more serious than I’d ever seen him. No hint of a smile, no friendly stance. He looked sad. “I remember what Janan said he was going to do.”
“What is that?” I whispered.
“He wants to be immortal.”