Lifeblood

  A Glacier--incoming! With a yelp, I duck and roll. The smoking ice misses me by an inch. Reed rushes to my side and blocks the next strike, saving me from injury. Or worse.

  "Thank you." As I stand, another Myriadian appears out of nowhere and strikes.

  Contact! Acid licks my neck. My flesh sizzles and bubbles like cheese on a pizza. I scream in agony but remain on my feet.

  Reed kills my attacker, but can't help me with my wound. The next threat has arrived, and the two engage.

  Despite my pain, I step into the fray, thrusting and parrying the way I've been taught, maintaining a wide circle of personal space--until a dead body trips me, and I fall.

  Three Troikans rush to the rescue, Hazel among them.

  She shoves me into a wall. Impact knocks my brain into my skull. Stars overtake my vision, but they can't obscure the fact that she saved me from another Glacier, taking the wound herself. Her comrades fend off two burly males while I pour manna down her throat.

  "No, no." She tries to turn her head away. Lifeblood leaks from the corners of her mouth. "You need--"

  "You need it more. You're going to be all right," I tell her. It's a command.

  Several other Troikans spot us and rush over. Hazel is escorted away. Home, I hope. The other TLs surround me. One of them jabs a needle in my neck, jolting me--energizing me.

  "A concentrated dose of manna," she explains.

  She removes a thick leather belt from her waist and secures it to mine. Multiple daggers and guns are sheathed in the pockets. Whoa! She disarmed herself to arm me? No way. I try to return the belt, but she's already moved on, fighting an ML.

  The rest of my protectors plow through the masses, steering me toward Javier. But one by one, they are taken out, and my guilt proves sharper than any sword. I'm the reason they're targeted.

  When I'm on my own, a young ML launches an attack against me. I maneuver him into a wall and point a sword at his throat.

  "I don't want to hurt you," I tell him, and despite the burst of energy provided by the manna, I'm panting. "Let's--"

  "Shut up and die!" He kicks me, knocking my ankles together.

  I stumble but remain upright and block his sword with my own.

  Where are the Generals?

  With a growl, the ML goes for my throat. The instinct to survive is ingrained, and the need to protect my people and the humans around us surges through my veins. I dodge his blow and lunge, extending my arms and ramming both of my swords into his torso. The tips stick out the other side of him.

  He grunts with pain, his pupils flaring with surprise.

  We never expect to reach the end, do we?

  Questions bombard me. Is he leaving a family behind? Will children be without their father? Brothers and sisters without their best friend? A mother without her son?

  Stop! Move on. Reach Javier.

  I yank, but one of my blades remains trapped in his bone; the handle begins to vibrate. Or he is vibrating? The color drains from his skin, leaving him chalk white...no, no, his skin is darkening. He's now gray. Stone gray...stone that cracks, crumbles, and explodes. Ash rains.

  I gape, confused and revolted.

  To the left, a blaze of Light appears, nearly blinding me. In the center, Meredith appears, a Pyre in hand.

  She slays the Myriadian in front of her--the one who'd been sneaking up on me. "The human is this way." Her gaze slides past my shoulder and widens. "Look out!"

  I dive. Too late. From behind, a Glacier nicks my thigh. My skin splits and Lifeblood hemorrhages. Instant pain and weakness. Bile rises up, but I swallow it back.

  Meredith closes in. My attacker has two metal swords; he uses one to take another stab at me and the other to slash at my grandmother. No! Not her! We both manage to block.

  She kicks and nails him between the legs. In this, spirits react as humans. He howls as he hunches over.

  With a single swing, she removes his head. It's a bloody, violent death, but I have no more regret to give. I want my grandmother safe.

  When Meredith releases the Pyre, it vanishes. She helps me to wobbly legs, then palms two axes. Together, we surge onward. She hacks at three...four...six MLs who make a play for me, effectively dividing their attention.

  This woman...she is a true warrior. A magnificent sight to behold. Every spin, slash and kick is almost too swift to track.

  "Be ready," she shouts over the craze. Then she pushes an ML at me.

  Knowing what she wants, I mimic her earlier move and ram my knee into the guy's midsection; as he hunches over desperate for breath, I swing one of my swords. His head detaches, and his body crumbles, Lifeblood glittering, spurting and pooling.

  Meredith shoves someone else my way, but familiar blond hair and blue eyes bring me to a halt.

  Sloan?

  She's sallow and trembling, unprepared for the horrors of war.

  Is anyone ever prepared?

  Lifeblood streaks her face and chest and soaks her hands. Her mouth is hanging open at an odd angle, her jaw broken. Mewling sounds escape her.

  Strike! What if she turns around and kills other Troikans?

  Still I hesitate. There's good in her. I know it. I can't punish her for it.

  "I'm sorry," she slurs and backs away from me. "I'm so, so sorry."

  I plant my feet, refusing to give chase.

  Meredith shoves another ML in my direction. He bows his back to avoid my kick, and my leg flies through the air. My momentum spins me. Laughing, he lifts a sword. His mistake. Instead of attempting to slow my momentum, I go with it, continuing to whirl. My swords slice through his middle, one after the other before he can deliver a single strike.

  Entrails spill onto the ground. I gag, not because the sight disgusts me. It doesn't. His organs are hauntingly beautiful, glittering like jewels. The fact that I like the look of them--that is the problem.

  A whoosh of wind, then a loud boom! The ground shakes, a Buckler engaged.

  I trip over my victim, and I'm too weak to catch myself. Zero! I'm still hemorrhaging. At this rate, I'll soon experience a total collapse.

  Determination took me further than skill, but I've reached my limit. I don't have the strength to stand.

  "They're closing in on us!" Meredith shouts.

  Her warning comes too late. We're already enclosed. MLs form a wide circle around us, caging us in. Behind them, TLs struggle to reach us.

  A shot rings out--

  "Nooo!" Meredith jumps in front of me, meaning to block the bullet with the swing of her sword, but in her panic her aim is off and the bullet cuts through her chest. She cries out, her body jerking as it falls.

  The moment she hits, three daggers sink into her stomach.

  No. No! I scream with an agony of the heart rather than the body. Leave her alone! Please!

  Rage driving me, I swing my swords at the offenders. While the tips miss the MLs by a hairsbreadth, it doesn't matter. A shower of Light--flaming metal shards?--flies from the ends of my weapons and slashes every offender across the throat.

  As they gasp for breath they can't catch, I position myself over Meredith's body to act as her shield. I will protect my grandmother with my life.

  An arrow flies at me, and I stop it with my swords. Another arrow follows, then another. Too many, too fast. A sharp pain suddenly explodes between my shoulder blades, and I cry out. I've been hit!

  Agony swims in my veins, and black dots wink through my eyes.

  I ignore the terrible sensations and keep swinging my weapons. Once again, blazing shards fly from the tips. The surrounding MLs expect the deluge this time and duck. Zero!

  A dagger is hurled at me. Despite my pain, I manage to block, and the blade pings to my feet. From the corner of my eye, I detect a blur of red. I pivot, but I'm not swift enough--an arrow lodges in my shoulder.

  The new flood of pain is quickly overshadowed by a surge of acid. Poison? I hiss as spiderwebs of black weave through my mind.

  The world shakes, and I sway
. My ankles buckle, the tendons suddenly detaching, and I scream as I fall. I can't breathe. Can't see. The pain...it's too great, and it's only getting worse. The swords tumble from my grip.

  I try to yank out the arrows, but I don't have the strength. Lifeblood gushes from me. Frigid cold envelops me.

  With a whimper, my grandmother turns her head. Judging by the pinch of her lips, the action is torture. Our gazes meet, my mismatched eyes suddenly linked to the beautiful amber windows to her soul, a soul now filled with regret and sorrow. White-hot tears catch on my lashes, and her image blurs.

  This can't be the end of her--of us. Someone will swoop in. Someone will come to our rescue. Or we'll be beamed back to Troika, out of danger before a deathblow can be delivered.

  Yes. --Beam us up!--I scream at anyone who might be able to hear me. --Please!--

  Meredith mouths a single word. Live. Then she closes her eyes. Muted Light begins to glow from her ears...nose...mouth...the tips of her fingers...her pores...so much Light, only growing brighter and brighter. Confusion grips me. What's happening? What's she doing?

  MLs scramble backward. Then...

  Her body--utterly--explodes.

  MLs wail and topple as Light and Lifeblood splash over them. Light and Lifeblood rain over me, too, but they are warm and welcoming.

  I have the strength to remove the arrows and dagger. My wounds begin to cauterize, and the cold leaves me.

  She did this...she did this to heal me...she did this to save me.

  She died.

  No, no, no. She isn't gone. She isn't entering into the Rest. Not Meredith. My wonderful, amazing Meredith.

  I need her. I need her now. I need her always!

  She was kind to me when others were not. She loved me when others could not. But she is...she's gone, isn't she? She's joined Archer in the Rest, because I failed to stop the war. Because I failed to protect her. Because I failed her--period.

  TLs encircle me, shielding me from further attack. I hate that they are endangered. I don't deserve their help.

  "Get her up," a voice yells from a distance. General Spike, I think.

  "You can't stay down, Ten." Reed's voice, closer than the General's but still far away. "Hurry!"

  He's right. I can't stay down. I have to do what Meredith came here to help me do. I have to get to Javier. Then I'll mourn. Then I'll cry... I'll cry and never stop.

  I'm trembling as I sit up. My shield of TLs has already thinned; only three are still standing...and Reed is the next to fall. I suck in a breath as an ML pins him to the ground, smiles and readies a blade.

  No!

  With a roar, I swipe up my swords and swing. He blocks, but he isn't prepared for my second swing. The blade cuts through his shoulder, and he howls. Reed works his legs up and kicks the ML in the chest. He flies backward, and I follow, menace in every step, both of my ankles healed and steady. The moment he hits the ground, I'm there to meet him.

  I remove his head without a moment of hesitation.

  "Thank you." Reed and the other two TLs bound off to meet a new group of MLs headed my way.

  The trio is quickly trampled, the soldiers surging past them. If I'm going to die, I'm going to take as many MLs as I can with me. Bring it!

  Something cold and hard suddenly presses against my back. I stiffen, preparing to turn and strike. I catch the scent of peat smoke and heather and my heart leaps. Killian. Killian is here.

  To help...or to hurt?

  No time! As another ML closes in from the front, I detect the cock of a gun behind me.

  Grinding my teeth, I fake left, swing with my right, spin--block--and swing with my left. Like his comrade, the big brute avoids the first but not the second. The blade slices through his middle. He falls, revealing another ML.

  Killian shoots the new one between the eyes.

  He keeps shooting. In quick succession, eight Myriadians join the others on the ground.

  Killian is helping me, at the same time ensuring there are no witnesses to his deeds.

  The earth shakes, the Buckler vanishing. Injured TLs begin to vanish, as well.

  Killian leads me into an alley hidden between two towering buildings. TLs are driving MLs farther down the road, away from me.

  At the moment, I'm safe. But I'm too keyed up to sheathe my swords.

  Killian doesn't seem to mind their presence. He presses his forehead against mine and whispers, "Remember your trust in me."

  "I remember." I long to sink into his arms, to cling to him and forget the horrors of the day. Forget the loss I've suffered, and the broken heart dying inside my chest.

  "Good." He straightens and glares at me, as inflexible as steel. Fury radiates from him. "Your realm should have known better than to send you. It's what Myriad wanted. It's why they had an army watching Javier."

  I blink at him. "I don't--"

  But he's not done. "If I save ye again, lass, my boss is going to know I'm not working to win ye to the Myriadian cause but simply protecting ye." His accent thickens with every word. "I'll be punished in the worst possible way. Do ye ken? Do ye even care? Do ye want me harmed?"

  He knows I don't want him harmed. To suggest otherwise can only be an attempt to manipulate me. But why would he--

  Remember your trust in me...

  Frowning, I stare up at him. I think I understand. He's playing his part...which must mean we're being watched.

  "I care about you. I love you," I tell him, my voice soft. Whoever lurks nearby won't be able to doubt my claims. The truth saturates my voice. "I love you with every fiber of my being."

  Killian inhales sharply, his nostrils flaring. His hands settle on my waist, his grip strong enough to hold me up if I fall.

  "Ten." My name is a benediction on his lips.

  "I don't want you in danger, Killian. Not now, not ever." More truth. But I have a part to play, too. One meant to keep this boy out of harm's way. "Just...don't help me again, okay?"

  He searches my gaze, and whatever he sees seems to undo him. Again he presses his forehead to mine, our exhalations mingling. "I'm sorry about your friend."

  A crack in my chest. "My grandmother," I croak.

  He brushes the tip of his nose against mine. "I'm sorry, lass."

  "Ten!" Victor comes barreling around the corner. He spots Killian and lifts a Stag. He takes aim, demanding, "Where's Javier? Where did your people move him?"

  I sheathe my swords at last and spread my arms, covering as much of Killian as I can. "Don't shoot," I command. "Please." I'm speaking to both of them. I can't tell Victor what Killian has done, so, I'm sure this comes across as a major betrayal to Troika. Again. But I won't back down and allow Killian to be hurt.

  Victor's gaze darts between us; he's clearly unsure about his next move.

  "Javier's gone?" All this pain and death for nothing! "Do you know where he is?" I ask Killian.

  "No, but I'll do what I can to find out."

  Maybe Meredith could use the Eye to search--

  No. No, she can't. My chin trembles.

  "What about the person he infected?" I ask.

  The space between Killian's eyes crinkles. "To my knowledge, only Javier and Dior are infected. If you heard otherwise, I'm thinking you heard a lie."

  Something in our favor. There are two infected people rather than three. "Let's go home, Victor. Please." I don't want to leave Killian, I need him, but I have no other choice. I'll see him again. I have to see him again. I'm breaking down from the inside out, and I don't know if I'll be able to put myself back together. But he can. He's done it before. "We have to go while the Buckler is down. We need to regroup."

  Killian backs away from me. Every cell in my body screams in protest. Chase him! I don't. The separation allows Victor to approach him unimpeded.

  Victor's finger twitches on the trigger, spurring me into action.

  I jerk up my knee, nailing his wrist, using one hand to push his arm to the side and the other to take possession of the weapon. He has
no defense against me. He's a Messenger, not a Laborer, and fighting isn't his specialty.

  "No more killing," I tell him.

  He glares at me. "You want to go home, we'll go home." He punches a code into his data pad and takes my hand.

  "Ten," Killian calls.

  Too late. I'm caught up in a beam of Light.

  MYRIAD

  * * *

  From: Z_C_4/23.43.2

  To: K_F_5/23.53.6

  Subject: Excellent job!

  Your skill continues to amaze me, Mr. Flynn. One small quibble. You were supposed to pretend to kill our soldiers in order to "save" Miss Lockwood's life, thereby placing her in your debt. You actually killed them. Why?

  Whatever the reason, I can't bring myself to punish you. Miss Lockwood seems willing to do anything to keep you safe.

  Do you think she's ready to take the next step and betray her realm for your sake?

  Might Equals Right!

  Sir Zhi Chen

  MYRIAD

  * * *

  From: K_F_5/23.53.6

  To: Z_C_4/23.43.2

  Subject: No!

  I need more time.

  As for your men--oops. My bad. No, you know what? It's their bad. They held me back at knifepoint and REPEATEDLY INJURED TENLEY LOCKWOOD. She was not supposed to be injured in ANY way. They could have killed her. If they had, you would have lost your ace. Is that what you want?

  Might Equals Right!

  ML, Killian Flynn

  MYRIAD

  * * *

  From: Z_C_4/23.43.2

  To: K_F_5/23.53.6

  Subject: Focus on the details that matter None of the injuries Miss Lockwood sustained were life-threatening. How do I know? She survived. But without some type of injury, she could have saved herself. You wouldn't have been needed.

  I'm beginning to wonder if your feelings for Miss Lockwood are genuine, after all. I'm also beginning to wonder why you've been disconnecting from the Grid so often, preventing me from reviewing your daily activities. I've given you great leeway and let you do your thing. Now we do things my way. Explain yourself.

  Might Equals Right!

  Sir Zhi Chen

  MYRIAD

  * * *