Incarnate (21 page)

THE COUNCIL’S SPEAKER stood in the doorway, frowning. “What are you doing here?” He stalked toward me.

I backed away.

“Not too close.” His gaze flicked upward, at the reverse pit. “Don’t want to fall in.”

Right. Because the stairs that went down actually went up, and the hole that went up might actually go down. I planted my feet on the ground and glared at him. “What are
you
doing here?” My heart thudded against my ribs so hard I waited for bones to break. “What’s going on outside?”

“I saw you run in here. I came to help.”

That was unlikely. I’d been here at least an hour. Unless time ran differently in the temple.

He continued to creep closer, cautious like I was a wild animal. I felt like one; my legs itched to carry me away, but I stayed and fought the adrenaline flooding my system. He shook his head, kept his voice soft and even. “It’s chaos out there. Dragons and sylph. They arrived shortly after you vanished.”

Dragons
and
sylph? My hands tingled with memory.

“It’s never happened before, both together.” He stopped directly in front of me, his gaze never leaving mine. “Do you know anything about that?”

How far could I back up before I fell? I couldn’t tell.

“Ana.” He spoke gently, like that would change anything. The temple still had a heartbeat. The air still smothered sound. Everything we said was flat, barely audible. The only thing that echoed was Janan — maybe Janan. “You should be at home with Li. You’d be safe there. Dragon acid can’t hurt the walls.”

So I’d seen during the market attack. Janan’s doing?

“What about the sylph?” I scratched at the backs of my hands. The burns had itched like mad when they were healing, and Sam always threatened to bind my hands forever if I didn’t stop trying to ease the sensation of something crawling beneath my flesh.

“Sylph…” Meuric’s eyes lifted to the pit again. “They can’t go through the stone.”

That didn’t mean they couldn’t use doors or windows. Li’s house was no safer than the market field when it came to sylph.

“Why aren’t you at home?” he asked again.

I edged toward the wall to keep from being trapped between him and the hole. My voice shook. “I heard the dragon thunder and I ran.” Sort of true. “I lost track of where I was going. I was so scared. Then a door appeared and I darted inside, but I’ve never seen this part of the Councilhouse.”

His expression flickered as though he was reevaluating me. Hopefully he’d decided I was an idiot.

When I had a clear view of both Speaker and pit, I stopped edging and lowered my voice. “Are we in the temple?”

He narrowed his eyes — I’d probably been too dramatic — but gave a curt nod. “Yes, that’s what your door led to.”

“I thought there was no way in.” I glanced at the pit. He might underestimate me if he knew how afraid I was. Still, it was humiliating to be caught when I felt so panicked. “Why is everything backward?”

“I don’t know.”

This room made my skin crawl, but I couldn’t figure out which way to go. Other archways appeared and disappeared in the corners of my vision. Any of them might lead to freedom, but more than likely they would take me somewhere worse. “Before you got here, I heard a voice.” I pressed my hands over my heart. “Was that Janan?”

Meuric’s mouth pinched. “Yes.”

I kept my eyes on him, trying to search the rest of the room with my peripheral vision. There was nothing, save the pit and occasional dark archway. “He said I was a mistake. Do you think he meant I wasn’t supposed to be born?”

The Speaker said nothing.

“I know about Ciana. I heard Frase tell Li that she never came back. Half of Heart believes I replaced her. That’s why they hate me.”

Meuric winced. “I’m sorry, Ana. I wish I could answer your questions. I just don’t know. I was as mystified as everyone else when you were born. All I can tell you is that the words on the outside of the temple are true: Janan gave us life. All our lives. Maybe something went wrong when Ciana didn’t come back, but Dossam believes you’re a gift. Surely you can take heart in that.”

Sam. I tried not to think about Sam out there with the dragons and sylph. Better to keep asking questions, no matter how much I wanted to remind Meuric that he was the one who’d taken me from Sam. Take heart in that indeed. “But Janan gave everyone life, and he said I’m a mistake. How can he make mistakes?”

His expression was dark as thunderclouds. No idea what he’d do if I kept pushing, if he could do anything, but I’d have bet Sam’s piano that Meuric knew more about the temple than he was letting on. I just had to find the right questions.

“What are you looking for?” he asked. “To be told you’re a mistake? Would it make a difference if I tell you that you’re not? You already know I believe in Janan, and this is his temple. He
is
the temple. He doesn’t speak often, but he never lies. If he said you’re a mistake, then you are. I don’t know where you came from, but I know
Janan
had nothing to do with you. Your answers aren’t in here.”

The words landed like fists. I could only nod. It certainly wasn’t the answer I wanted, but I’d learned long ago I didn’t need to worry anyone would lie just to keep my feelings from getting hurt.

Really, I just wanted to know what had happened. I couldn’t change what I was or wasn’t. I lowered my gaze. “Do you know the way out? I want to find Sam.”

“Yes, we can do that.” His hand brushed his coat pocket, so quickly I wasn’t supposed to see. I feigned interest in my sleeves, in the dark cloth over white skin. “Come with me.”

Too easy. And at some point, he’d given up pretending he knew nothing about the temple. That could only mean that he wanted to lead me somewhere I didn’t want to go.

“Okay.” I straightened my clothes and hitched my backpack, heavy with the books I’d stolen. “Yeah, I’d rather not stay here any longer. You can’t see anything, and nothing is what it looks like.” I strode toward him, stopping just out of arm’s reach. I kept him between the upside-down pit and me.

“Unsettling, isn’t it?”

I hesitated, desperately wishing I was as brave as Sam claimed.

Before I could act, Meuric noticed
something
about me — maybe posture or accelerated breathing — and said, “It will be easier if you behave.”

“What will?”

“Getting lost in here. You won’t get hungry or thirsty. You’ll never get tired. Janan doesn’t want you, and I won’t kill you, but you cause too many problems in Heart. You ask too many questions. I’d hoped you’d grow out of all that if I gave you back to Li. This wasn’t what I wanted for you.”

“Sam won’t let you—”

“Sam will assume you died. Lots of bodies are never found when dragons or sylph attack. He’ll be sad, but he’ll get over it. Unless he dies, too. And even then it’s unlikely he’d be reborn before Soul Night.”

“What happens then?” Soul Night wasn’t until the spring equinox in the Year of Souls, more than a year away.

He showed teeth when he smiled. “Nothing you need to worry about.”

I didn’t move.

“Birth is never pretty, Ana. It’s painful. Trust me, you will be happier in here.” He gestured around the chamber as though it was the grand concert hall in the Councilhouse; I saw only cold, unforgiving white. “And you’ll live forever. Isn’t that what you want?

“I
want
to go home. I want people to stop telling me what to do, insisting progress reports are the most important thing in my life, and assuming I have some nefarious plan for newsouls to replace everyone. I don’t. For some reason, I’ve been given a chance at life, and I want to make the most of it.”

Meuric just shook his head. “You honestly don’t know the trouble you have caused.” He stepped closer, his eyes on mine. We were exactly the same height, so neither of us had to look up or down. He still seemed so much bigger than me. “I understand,” he said. “You’re young. Your world revolves around you. Or, like your father, you are simply incapable of considering others. He was always asking questions, too, trying to figure out why people are reincarnated.”

“There’s no crime in curiosity.”

“Your questions make my life difficult.”

“Fortunately, as you said, I’m self-centered enough that I don’t care.” I checked the pit but couldn’t judge the distance; the everywhere-light made depth perception impossible. “I’ve decided not to go with you. I’ll find my own way out.”

“Then you’ll never leave.”

No, I had a pretty good idea of what I needed. Or, at least, where to find it. I tackled Meuric, the weight of my backpack making that more awkward than it needed to be.

He was young and fast enough that he could have darted away, but maybe he’d forgotten. Changing bodies must get confusing. Instead, he dropped to the floor and dragged me with him, his nails gouging my arm through my sleeve. “What are you
doing
?” He stood and hauled me up; he was strong for his size.

I dove for his pocket and whatever was in there.

With a grunt, he grabbed my shoulders to fling me across the room, but I caught the cloth of his pocket — not its contents — and he fell with me. I elbowed him, trying to find some kind of advantage, but he was stronger and his elbows were pointier.

We wrestled, both of us trying to get his pocket and keep away from the upside-down pit. When we came close to it, he shoved me, but I threw myself aside just before I stumbled beneath the opening.

My shoulder jammed against the floor, shooting pain all down my arm. My foot, which had landed under the pit, hung upward as though gravity had reversed. I pulled it down — it was as heavy as if I were lifting it out of the pit — and scrambled away as Meuric attacked.

He hit my sore shoulder, which sent waves of numbness to my fingers. With my free hand, I drew Sam’s knife and thrust it, not caring where it hit, as long as it hit somewhere.

Flesh squished and popped.

Blood squirted and dribbled from his eye.

His expression flickered to shock, then to a dull nothing as I withdrew my knife and gagged at the metallic odor of blood and salt. I avoided looking at his youthful face as I found a thin, SED-size device in his pocket. It was made of silver. His other pockets were empty, so this had to be what would get me out of here.

Meuric groaned and clutched at his ruined eye. I couldn’t imagine how he was still alive, but the knife wasn’t long; perhaps I hadn’t gone deep enough to puncture his brain. Acid boiling in my stomach, I wiped my blade clean on his coat, then kicked him underneath the pit. It sucked him upward as quickly as though he’d fallen.

My head spun, and I needed to throw up.

I’d
killed
him.

When he was reborn, he’d spend his life trying to kill me. He might even tell the Council what I’d done. I could show them what I’d found in his pocket, tell them what had happened before he returned, but it was unlikely they’d believe me. I was the nosoul.

Jammed shoulder aching, I hauled myself into a sitting position and studied the device. It gleamed silver in the everywhere-light, and had five pictures engraved in the metal. They were a horizontal line, a vertical line, a square, a circle, and a diamond. None of them looked like a door, and I couldn’t tell if touching one would activate anything or not. They weren’t buttons.

For a moment, I feared I’d made a mistake — hadn’t I? I’d killed him — but this was Meuric. He wouldn’t have come in here unprepared. He’d probably been the one to create the door in the first place, just to get me out of the way. There’d been nothing else in his pockets, so everything necessary to activate this device must be here already.

Or not. What if this was tied to only Meuric’s soul, the same way the scanners in the city could detect which soul was which?

“Janan?” I whispered, just in case he was still there and inclined to help. Only the temple heartbeat pulsed in reply.

The last thing I wanted to do was lock myself in here, but wasn’t I already trapped? I had to take a chance and hope I escaped. Then I could raid Meuric’s house for some kind of instructions.

The horizontal line was first; I touched that.

Nothing happened.

Same thing with the vertical line and the square, so perhaps that meant I had to do something else to them. “But
what
?” Frustrated, I squeezed the device and considered throwing it into the pit.

Something shifted inside the device. With a soft
snick
, the pictures all rotated and the metal slid into itself, as if one half was hollow.

I had no idea what I’d done, but as soon as I looked up, the wall shimmered and groaned. In the same dizzying way the room had turned upside down, a gray blur appeared on the white stone, expanding into a door-size hole. I couldn’t see anything beyond.

Stay here, or go through the mysterious door? I drew in a shaky breath and found my feet. Before I made it halfway, the edges of the door flickered and whitened.

My entire body hurt, and fire stabbed my shoulder every time I moved my arm, but I sprinted for the door before it closed and I was forced to repeat whatever I’d done to the device.

I stepped throuIcy wind battered my face, and sleet obscured my vision. My first instinct was to run as far from the temple as possible, but — I swayed and pressed my backpack against the now smooth wall where the door had been — I’d emerged on a ledge, high above the ground. If not for the weather, I’d have been able to see everything. I’d never been so grateful for sleet before.

Carefully, I tugged off my backpack. I considered letting it go — I had the door device and my knife in my coat — but this had the books from the temple, as well as the charred remains of Sam’s song. If it came to it, I could drop it, but for now, I put the backpack on in front of me. Balancing would be awkward, but I would compensate.

Just as I steadied myself to get my bearings, a dark shape formed in the gray: long and slender, huge black wings.

A dragon.

THE TEMPLE THROBBED against my back as I pressed harder against it, trying to become invisible. My door was gone, and too easily, I could recall how Sam had described the dragon acid. I could imagine myself burning and itching, my skin boiling until I saw bone. I didn’t want to die. Not in the temple, or by falling off, or by dragon.

I considered opening another door only for a heartbeat; there was no telling what I’d find inside, or if I could get back to the ground level to create a new door. I couldn’t risk it.

Thinking invisible thoughts, I planted both palms on the warm stone and tried to calm my vertigo and terror. The dragon’s wings spread wide, glittering in the strange templelight.

Right. Warm stone. That would at least keep ice from making me slip, but there was still water. The ledge was only a foot deep, which didn’t leave much room for me to keep my balance.

The dragon’s jaws gaped as it flew nearer, but before it speared me with teeth as long as my forearm, blue light shot from the ground, piercing the roof of its mouth. With a roar, it veered and dove at its attacker. Wind from its wings nearly forced me off the ledge, but I dug my heels in and clenched my jaw, as if that would keep me from tumbling to the market field.

The Councilhouse roof wasn’t far to the left — which meant I faced north, and all the incoming dragons — and that seemed like a safer place to be stranded. It was still at least a one-story drop, and I couldn’t tell if my ledge went that far, but it was better than staying here.

I inched toward the roof. The glow helped when it was right underneath me, but anything beyond arm’s reach was hazy with sleet and numinous light. And even with the warm temple, my face and fingers were numb. My backpack tugged awkwardly on my shoulder, making fire shoot through it. Something was out of place, or maybe broken.

Dragons snaked through the air, diving into the streets. There were hundreds of them, shrieking and making thunder shake the world. Their cacophony drowned any screams my fellow humans might make. They’d never hear mine, either.

I clutched the temple harder, inching faster.

A mistake. My heel slipped in water, sending me weightless for a split second as my other foot followed. I threw my weight back, hoping beyond reason I didn’t overcompensate and push myself off. My tailbone thudded against stone, sending shocks through my spine.

My legs dangled off the ledge. The stone cut at my thighs, revealing exactly how much room I didn’t have to move. Trying to stand again would get me killed, so I pressed my hands to the ledge and scooted like that. Water soaked the seat of my pants. Chills surged through my legs and stomach.

The temple shuddered as a dragon latched onto it far above me. I didn’t look. If what I’d seen during the market attack was an indication, the claws wouldn’t even scratch the stone.

Meuric had said there were sylph. I couldn’t see any through the blinding lights and sleet, but no doubt they were out there. They were creatures of shadow and air; did that mean they could fly?

I focused on scooting without falling, and fought the urge to look down. I’d see the Councilhouse when I was over it. Roof first. Ground later.

The view of the north half of the city was frightening enough without adding dizzy to that.

I couldn’t discern the cannonballs through the distance and misty light, but the booms rattled the air and made dragons scream. Dark shapes wove through the sky, pursued by laser blasts. Lights shone off city walls, Councilhouse walls, and all along the main avenues. Heart would have been as bright as day, if not for the sleet and clouds and pressing darkness.

At last, a white expanse appeared under my ledge. It was still difficult to tell how far a fall it would be. Too far. I’d shatter every bone in my legs and arms. As far as I could tell, the temple wall beneath me was sheer, so that ruled out dropping from ledge to ledge.

Claws shrieked against stone. I looked up just in time to duck a swinging tail. A dragon flailed, struggling to keep its hold on the temple. It scraped and tried to scramble up again, lashing its tail for balance. The end of the tail was close.

I grabbed the dragon’s tail and jumped.

Screaming, I wrapped my legs around the tail and squeezed as hard as I could. The backpack over my stomach made it difficult to keep my grip, but I ducked my head down and didn’t let go as the tail whipped through the air, flipping me upside down and stopping just short of smacking me into the wall.

Bad idea. Bad idea.

The instant the tail was close to the Councilhouse roof, I let go.

My back hit first. Air whooshed from my lungs. I gasped and coughed as I turned over, barely quick enough to keep from puking on myself. Then I spit until the acidic taste faded.

Above me, my dragon smeared gore across the temple wall, still thrashing as lasers speared its stretched-out wings. It gave a last deafening roar as it fell, making the Councilhouse shake when it landed, draped from the roof down.

It had just given me another way to the ground.

I switched my backpack again. My shoulder twinged, but the shooting pain had faded. Whatever had come out of place must have been jarred back when I landed.

Thanking the dying dragon for three things now, I trotted to where its tail and hind legs hung on the south side of the roof. I couldn’t see whether it went all the way to the ground. Regardless, I had to hurry before it slipped the rest of the way; with ice making everything slick, the beast wouldn’t stay here long.

Twice, I skidded on the roof and scraped my palms catching myself, but I reached the dragon’s hind legs just as the body began to shudder. Hoping it was dead, I climbed up its talons and leg, then up the side to its back. The scales were sharp and cold, wet with sleet. But it was a lizard — albeit a huge one adapted for the tundra — and cold-blooded, so cold scales should be normal. Maybe.

I scrambled onto its back and used scales like a ladder over the edge of the building. My hands froze and ached, but I didn’t stop moving.

The body convulsed when I was halfway down, near the stretched wings. Everything slipped. I held on tighter, but when it didn’t stabilize again, I leapt onto the wing and slid the rest of the way down, jerking and stumbling over bones beneath the thin, smooth scales.

Wind cut at my face and up my sleeves as I sped down. Finally the slope eased at the wing tips resting on the cobblestones. Momentum threw me onto the ground just as the dragon crashed behind me.

Someone running by stared at me and swore, then tossed a laser in my direction as he headed north. My hands were too cold and stiff to catch the weapon, but I grabbed it off the ground, then tried to decide where I was in relation to Sam’s window. Not far. I scrambled over the dragon’s corpse. The building and beast created a narrow gorge, sheltered from wind and noise.

I found the prison window easily enough, and they hadn’t shut the glass. “Sam?” I knelt and peered inside the dim room.

Empty.

I sank to my heels and rested my forehead against an iron bar, trying to figure out what could have happened. It was possible he could have escaped, but he barely remembered how to use a data console. Disabling the soul-scanners was beyond him. Orrin had been in there, but he was as hopeless as Sam. Stef would have been able to do it, but it probably required tools she didn’t have.

The other possibility was that Li had discovered my absence and known where to find me. She wouldn’t have hesitated to kill Sam.

Then I would avenge him. Li would come back, and like Meuric, she’d hunt me for the rest of her lives, but at least she’d suffer the same soul-ripping pain as Sam.

My stomach twisted. When had I become so blasé about killing? My knife was still wet with Meuric’s blood, and I was already thinking about what to do to my mother? I wanted to throw up again, but there was nothing left in me.

Keening and moaning jolted me from my thoughts.

Tall shadows drifted about the dragon’s remains, charring scales. I scrunched my nose at the ashy reek and bolted away from the sylph. They weren’t interested in me yet, and I didn’t have sylph eggs.

I sprinted into the stinging night, battle din rising as I pulled away from the Councilhouse. Airborne drones roared around dragons, shooting lasers every chance they got. The dragons spat globs of acid. I pulled my hood on tight. If anything fell on me, I’d hear it sizzle and I could throw off my coat. It’d work only once, though.

My muscles ached, but I ran as hard as I could, avoiding anything shadowy or glowing green. I wished I had a flashlight or SED — mine had been confiscated — but my knife and laser were better than nothing.

I searched the faces of everyone I passed. Most of them were running, too, and looked like they knew what to do. More than I did, at any rate. None of them were Sam, or my friends. I pushed on, hiding my fists inside my sleeves for warmth.

People and lights and acid piles packed North Avenue. I wished I could duck into the residential quarter, but I didn’t know my way around that maze well enough. Li’s house was right by the guard station, anyway.

I wished I were cowardly enough to hide in someone’s house until everything was over.

Heart’s north wall loomed ahead, brilliant as it reflected light across the guard station. I pushed my weak legs harder. What if Li wasn’t at her house? She was a warrior. No doubt she’d be single-handedly killing half the dragons, not waiting for me to confront her.

I focused on rage. She
always
hurt what mattered to me. Collections of things I’d found in the forest, the purple roses, and Sam’s song. She’d done nothing in my entire life to give me a reason to trust that she wouldn’t kill Sam just to spite me.

Lungs and legs burning, I darted around a trio of children firing lasers into the sky, and skidded to a stop near the guard station. Everything was so bright it made my eyes water. My nose ran from the cold. It seemed like, if I was going to face my mother, I should at least look like I could take care of myself.

I wiped my nose on my sleeve and clutched the laser. The path there was familiar by now, though the dead dragon and acid-marked cobblestone were new. Shadows lingered everywhere, but none made sylph songs.

Shivering, I stood at the end of her walkway and stared down the front door.

It swung open, framing Li.

She seemed bigger. Angrier. “Where have you been?” She didn’t move. Li always waited for me to go to her.

I flexed my fingers around the laser grip. “What did you do to Sam?”

She cocked her head. “Sam?”

“You heard me.” I stepped forward. She wasn’t holding anything but the doorknob. I could fire before she could. Maybe. I’d never used a laser; my aim was probably terrible. “What did you do with Sam? He’s not there anymore.”

“I don’t know what happened to him.” She checked over her shoulder. Distracted. Agitated. It was natural, considering the war going on around us, but not for Li. She liked conflict. She liked opportunities to see me hurt, and here I was without the one person who meant everything to me, worried he was dead, and she was
distracted
? “Is that where you went?”

“He was in prison. Now he’s not.” I stopped halfway down the walk and straightened my shoulders. The sore one stung, but I tried to make my expression frozen with anger, like she did. I didn’t want her to know how much I hurt.

“Why do you think I’d do something to him?” Her familiar sneer returned.

“You always do things. It’s what you are.” I lifted my laser and let my free hand rest on the rosewood handle of Sam’s knife. “You tried to make my life miserable, make me believe that no one could ever care about me. But you’re wrong. Sam does. Sarit, Stef, and the others do. I’m not a nosoul.” My hand shook as I took aim. “Now tell me what you did to him.”

Her mouth dropped open.

At first I thought it was shock because I’d finally stood up to her, but then her expression went slack and her eyes focused on nothing. One last flicker of rage, and she crumpled.

Dead.

I staggered backward. A dragon wouldn’t fit inside, and a sylph would have been more obvious. I hadn’t done it.

A man stepped out of the shadows, over my mother’s body, and lowered a handheld laser like mine. “You must be Ana.” Odd that it took only one small man with a laser to kill her. He didn’t look like much. Short. Clipped auburn hair. Pale.

Oh. I knew those features, though I’d never seen him before.

“I’m Menehem,” he said. “We should talk.”