“No, please!” I gasp, clawing at his hands.
“Let her go!” Ash demands.
“Have mercy, Sigur! She’s just a child,” Minister Fisher pleads.
“Her mother killed our children! What is it you say? An eye for an eye?” Sigur says to him.
The Darklings in the ward howl in unison, a bloodthirsty sound.
“If you kill her, I’ll never forgive you. My mom would never let you do this, you know it,” Ash says.
This seems to strike a chord with Sigur. He drops me, and I fall hard. Minister Fisher pulls me into his arms.
“You need to leave,” Ash says to me, his voice flat, cold.
“Ash, I’m so sorry. Please forgive me,” I say.
“Just go, before Sigur changes his mind,” he replies.
Minister Fisher drags me out of the room.
“Let me go!” I protest. “I need to go back.”
“Don’t be stupid, child. They’ll kill you,” he says.
He looks so much like Ash right now. I hadn’t noticed before because his face was obscured by a disheveled beard. They have the same shape eyes, the same high cheekbones, the same straight nose. It’s hard not to listen to him when he reminds me so much of Ash.
We take the boat back to the shantytown by the entrance to the Boundary Wall. The guards escort us to the gates, holding on to my arms with more force than necessary. The news has already started to spread through the compound like a virus. I hear them muttering to each other. I don’t understand what they’re saying, but their fury is loud and clear. They spit at me as I pass. The iron gates swing open, and I’m tossed out like garbage. Minister Fisher stays inside.
I stare at the gates, praying that Ash will run out after me. Please don’t let this be over. Please, please, please.
But the gates stay closed.
32
ASH
THE FUNERAL CHAMBER is near dark. Only the silvery outlines of the other Darklings are visible in the gloom as they stand around Mom’s shrouded body. I hold Dad’s hand, keeping him close—he won’t be able to see as well as I can.
Evangeline gives me a wisp of a smile. My heart aches, wishing Natalie were here. I shouldn’t have snapped at her earlier, but I was upset. Even so, it was wrong of me not to escort her to the boundary gates and let her know things are still okay between us, especially since we made love just a few hours ago. She must be so confused right now.
The High Priest begins to sing. I vaguely recognize the tune and sing the bits I know, which isn’t much. I wish I’d spent more time learning about this side of my culture, but there never seemed much point.
The singing stops, and the High Priest ushers us forward.
“What are we supposed to do?” I ask Evangeline.
“We all need to say the thing we’ll remember the most about Annora, to help keep her in our minds.”
Sigur is first. “I will remember your kiss.”
Evangeline can barely get her words out. “I will remember your kindness.”
Dad is next. “I will remember your laughter.”
Then the High Priest calls on me. I look at Mom’s body, thinking of something to say. What will I remember the most about her? The way she sang me to sleep? How she read me The Wooden Boy each night, even though she must’ve been sick to death of it? How she wrote me a birthday card every year, even when she couldn’t send it?
“I will remember that you are always with me,” I say.
The High Priest picks up the urn I saw earlier, passing it to Sigur. Then he unsheathes a ceremonial knife from around his belt.
“What are they doing?” I whisper.
“You shouldn’t look at this,” Evangeline says.
The High Priest raises the knife over Mom’s body.
“No!” I yell.
The priest plunges the dagger into Mom’s chest.
“It’s part of the ritual,” Evangeline explains. “Her dual heart is harvested and given to her Blood Mate.”
I bury my face in Dad’s shoulder. Evangeline was right; I don’t want to see this. He pats my back.
“It’s done,” Dad whispers to me a minute later.
I risk a look at Mom. She’s been covered again. Sigur places the lid on the urn and offers it to Dad.
Dad shakes his head. “I have Ash. He’s the best part of Annora. You keep her heart; it belongs to you. It always did.”
Sigur gives a weak smile and clutches the urn to his chest.
The door opens, casting a sliver of light over the altar as Evangeline slips out of the room. Dad and Sigur are busy talking to each other; they won’t notice if I leave for a few minutes. I could do with some air anyway.
I find Evangeline outside beside the empty ape enclosure. We stroll through the zoo, passing the cages. At some point during the walk, Evangeline takes my hand, and I lace my fingers through hers, needing the comfort. Although it feels nice, natural, I still wish it were Natalie who was here with me now.
“It was a moving funeral. Annora would’ve been pleased with it.” Evangeline wipes the tears from her eyes. “I can’t believe she’s gone.”
I don’t know what to say to comfort her.
“I was the one who brought your mother back to your house, you know?” she says.
“Thanks,” I say.
“It was the least I could do. She looked after me for so long. I loved her.”
“Why did you never tell Sigur that my mom was sick?” I say.
She lowers her lashes. “I was scared he’d blame me.”
“Why? How did Mom get bitten?” I ask. I’d been wondering this for weeks.
“It was one of the Wraths in the hospital. I was working in the ward, and she came to say good-bye to me after her argument with Sigur. The Wrath attacked her—it was so quick. It’s my fault. If she hadn’t come to say good-bye . . .”
“It’s not your fault. Besides, it’s not what killed her in the end,” I say, rage boiling inside me as I think about Gregory. “What will they do with her now?”
“They’ll take her body outside just before dawn. The sun will cremate her remains.”
I cringe at the thought.
“She’s in the Elsewhere now, in a better place,” Evangeline says.
“Do you really believe that?”
She nods.
A bird flies overhead, reminding me of the crow that flew over me and Natalie when we sat on the roof of Sentry HQ. My heart aches, thinking about that day, how it felt having her in my arms, how she kissed me.
“What are you going to do now?” Evangeline asks.
“What do you mean?” I say.
“Are you going back, or are you staying with us?”
I hadn’t even considered staying with the Legion, but why shouldn’t I? What’s keeping me on the human side of the wall? My mom’s gone, Dad would be safer without me, and Beetle would understand. There’s only one reason to go back. Natalie.
“You’re thinking about her, aren’t you?” Evangeline says.
“Is it that obvious?”
“It is to me.” Evangeline’s eyes narrow into slits. “Don’t you understand her betrayal? She knew about the Bastet venom, but she didn’t tell you.”
“Natalie said she didn’t have the opportunity—”
“Don’t be naive, Ash. She was clearly protecting her mother. Natalie’s Sentry through and through, and don’t you forget it,” Evangeline replies.
“That’s not true. She’s not like the others.”
“Don’t be suckered in by her lies. She’s played you for a fool.”
“I don’t believe that,” I say.
“How can you still want to be with he
r?” Evangeline asks.
“Because I still love her,” I say.
“You don’t love her. You just think you do because she has my heart.”
“She may have your heart, but that’s not the reason I love her,” I say. “It’s not just a physical connection. It’s something deeper. You may be my Blood Mate, but she’s my Soul Mate. That’s just as powerful.”
Evangeline touches my chest. “We could have that connection, Ash, if you just give me a chance. I’d never lie to you or betray you. She can’t be trusted—she’s dangerous.”
She looks at me with wide, expectant eyes. Her inky-black hair ripples around her pale, beautiful face.
I move her hand away. “And you’re not dangerous? You killed a man, or did you forget? His name was Malcolm.”
She lets out an irritated sound. “He was just a meat sack.”
“You see, that’s where you and Natalie differ. She’d never let a Darkling get hurt if she could prevent it, while you have no regard for human life at all.”
“Maybe if they ripped your heart out like they did mine, you wouldn’t feel so warm and fuzzy about humans either,” she says.
I sigh. We sit down on a stone bench beside the abandoned lions’ den. White flowers bloom around our feet, their petals the same color as Evangeline’s iridescent skin.
“So, are you going to stay with us?” she says, her eyes sparkling with hope.
I look at the Boundary Wall in the distance, and for the first time ever, I’m yearning to be back on the other side.
“No,” I say.
Evangeline turns her face from me, but I know she’s crying.
“I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you,” I say.
She looks back at me. “Well, you have. I guess it’s lucky I don’t have a heart, because you would’ve broken it.”
I reach out for her, but she pushes me away.
“I won’t wait for you, Ash.”
“I never asked you to,” I say.
She sighs, her shoulders slumping, the fight gone out of her. Evangeline gazes up at the moon, her black eyes glistening in the silvery light. A single tear slides down her cheek, but she doesn’t wipe it away.
“I just thought if you got to know me better, you’d want to be with me instead of her. But that’s not going to happen, is it?” she says quietly.
“No. I don’t think so.”
She lets out a shuddering breath, and I feel terrible for hurting her like this, but I can’t lie. Leading her on would be worse in the long run.
“Evangeline, do you even find me attractive?” I ask.
“Yes,” she says. “You’re very handsome—”
“No, I don’t mean superficial stuff. Do you actually like me?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. I’m attracted to you, but it’s . . . it’s a physical thing. Like a craving. I barely know you, Ash.”
I nod, understanding. There’s definitely a physical attraction between me and Evangeline, but not an emotional connection like I have with Natalie.
“I think there’s this real pressure on us to feel a certain way about each other, because we were meant to be Blood Mates. But you don’t feel it for me, not really, and I don’t feel it for you,” I say.
She lets out a tiny sob. “Ash—”
I pull her into my arms and hold her as she cries. She’s so small, so fragile. The zoo around us is deathly quiet, the cages bare and void of life. This is her world: silent, alone. It was my life, before Natalie. I am the lucky one. How different things could have been . . . I hate the fact I’m resigning her to this fate, but what can I do? The one thing Evangeline needs is the one thing I can’t give her: my heart.
“You’ll find someone else, someone better,” I say as she pulls away from me.
“Who? We’re the only twin-bloods left.”
“No we’re not. There’s more of us out there. I’ve seen it with my own eyes,” I reply. “We can search for them together.”
Suddenly she stands up.
“There’s no reason for me to wait. There’s nothing for me here. Annora’s gone, you’ve got Natalie, and Sigur doesn’t really need me. It’s time to go,” she says.
“You can’t go now,” I say, getting to my feet.
“Why not? Give me one reason to stay.”
I can’t.
“Good-bye, Ash. Maybe we’ll meet again someday.”
She goes to the boat that will take her back to the Boundary Wall. Giving me one last, lingering look, she sails away. My heart tugs as it senses her leave.
I wonder if I’ll ever see her again.
33
NATALIE
I BARGE INTO MOTHER’S OFFICE. She’s surrounded by her cronies, who all stare at me in stunned silence as I pick up a glass paperweight and throw it across the room. It smashes against the portrait of Purian Rose hanging above the fireplace.
“Natalie!”
“How could you?” I scream. “You infected the Darklings with Wrath?”
The staff members scurry out the door, eager to get away, and I slam the door behind them.
Mother narrows her icy blue eyes at me. “I don’t know where you heard that nonsense about the Wrath but—”
“Cut the crap! I know you did it. What I don’t understand is why,” I say.
Mother tenses, accentuating the sharp angles of her bony frame. She’s about to protest, then sighs, relenting. “Because Darklings are vermin and need to be exterminated.”
I knew she was involved, but to hear her admit it still knocks the wind out of me.
“What about Chris and those other kids? The ones who took your Golden Haze? Were they just vermin too?” I say.
“Their deaths were unfortunate, but I’m not going to lose any sleep over a couple of Hazers.”
Anger flares up inside me. “Well, I’d start to worry if I were you. Sigur knows everything.”
“How?” she asks.
“I told him.”
Mother stands up, knocking back her green leather chair. It crashes to the floor.
“Do you realize the danger you’ve put us in?” she exclaims.
“I didn’t put us in danger; you did with this insane plan! Why did you do it? I just don’t understand,” I say.
Mother turns slightly, so I can only see her profile, and stares into the fireplace. The orange flames flicker, and shadows dance over her pale skin. The effect makes her gaunt face look almost skeletal, and it hits me how sick she’s looking, how tired.
“I had no choice, Natalie. After your father betrayed us, Purian Rose was going to have us all executed, to make an example of us.” She doesn’t sound like her normal confident self. She sounds . . . scared. “But I persuaded him to spare us.”
“How?” I ask.
“I knew he wanted to pass Rose’s Law—it was all he’d been talking about for months.” She glances over her bony shoulder at me. “We had to find a way to persuade the citizens to vote for it. We knew there would be objections, especially from Humans for Unity.”
I walk over to her. “I still don’t see how this ties in with the Golden Haze. Why did you want to infect the Darklings with the Wrath virus?” I say.
Mother peers up at the portrait of Purian Rose like she’s worried he can hear us. His wolfish silver eyes glower down at us.
“Didn’t you ever think it was odd that the Black City School was right next to the Boundary gates?” she says.
I nod. “Yes, actually, I did.”
“It wasn’t a mistake. The idea was to get the Darklings infected with the Wrath and then”—she licks her lips—“then we were going to open the gates and unleash them on the school. We were going to blame it on Humans for
Unity and claim they let the nippers out. Those idiots have been playing into our hands this whole time with their protests.”
I gasp. The horror of it is overwhelming. Purian Rose ordered the deaths of hundreds of children?
“Why?” I say.
“We’d win the ballot for sure. No one would be able to deny how dangerous Darklings were after that,” Mother says. “I told Purian Rose I’d run the mission, and if it went wrong, I’d take the full blame. It was win-win for him.”
I look her in the eyes, and for the first time ever, I see the frightened, vulnerable woman behind them.
“That was the deal I made with him to protect you and Polly. I had to do it. There was no other way,” she says.
“But you sent me to that school.” The truth finally dawns on me. “Rose wanted me to die so people wouldn’t suspect he had anything to do with the Wrath attack. I mean, why would he allow the daughter of an Emissary to die?”
She grabs my hands and looks earnestly at me. “I pleaded with him to spare you, but he wouldn’t listen. Why do you think I’ve had Sebastian watch you so closely? I wanted him there to protect you when the Wraths attacked. It was going to happen next Tuesday, the day after the boundary negotiations ended. We figured it would be the best time, as Humans for Unity would be furious when I refused to expand the Darkling territory.”
“Sebastian knew about this?”
Mother doesn’t need to answer. Of course he must have known about the plan. He’s been helping Mother all along. That’s why Sebastian was asked to attend the spiritual retreat. He was being rewarded.
I slip my hands free from Mother’s grasp.
“Don’t be mad at Sebastian. He was just following orders,” she says. “It was his idea to orchestrate the Tracker trials. We hoped if some of the students had defensive training, it would minimize casualties.”
“You ordered the Tracker trials? I thought that was Purian Rose’s initiative.”
“I convinced him it was a good idea to enlist more Trackers, but he didn’t know my real reason for doing it,” Mother says.
“Were you still going to go ahead with the plan, despite the fact Humans for Unity got there ahead of you and bombed the wall?” I ask.