Two days ago, the truck had died, probably due to Sol’s driving. I didn’t miss the ride too much though. The roads had gotten so bad that we’d bottomed-out every other mile. Each time, Sol and I had freed it with the help of my vines and his Baggers.
Pushing the truck shoulder to shoulder with zombies had been bizarre.
We’d been forced to continue on foot, trudging through mountainous terrain. Sol had found some clothes and boots at Fort Arcana, so he wasn’t slowing me down. He, Bea, and Joe had restocked our food and water from the supplies there, while I had . . .
I frowned. Huh. I didn’t remember what I’d been doing.
Now Sol asked, “Pequeña, can we stop for a moment?”
I kept walking.
Ever since the gravestone, he’d tried to be nice. He’d said consoling things. We’d politely shared food and water as we’d traveled the Ash together.
But I had nothing left. Bea and Joe showed more liveliness than I did.
Whatever burgeoning friendship—or at least understanding—between me and the Sun had disappeared.
Jack had been one of my last links to humanity. Without him, I was cruel.
Without Jack. I was already thinking about him in past tense. I might have sobbed, but my tourniquet was holding fast. Yet my mind suffered, making odd connections.
The whirlpool I’d been trapped in just days ago, spinning like a roulette wheel . . . roulette meant little wheel . . .
Tess reversing time as though on a backward-spinning carousel . . . carousel meant little battle . . .
Tourniquet came from the French word tourner, to turn or rotate . . .
Everything was turning; I was turning. I’d entered Fort Arcana one way; after finding Tess, I was changed forever. I no longer believed with certainty that I was in charge of my own destiny.
In the middle of a clearing, Sol stopped. “Empress, you’re lost.”
I faced him. “I’m not lost.” I was completely lost. I never thought I’d miss the voices. I still hadn’t heard any. I was relying on my own sense of direction—which sucked.
Even if I could navigate using the sun or stars, neither were visible. Dawn never came, and clouds concealed the night sky. Endless nights.
Now that I assumed Aric was alive, I’d started hailing every puddle for Circe, hoping she would help me, but she never did. I’d imagined I heard her whispers from every raindrop—until I thought I’d go crazy. Eventually, I would.
I just needed to hold off until I’d completed my missions.
Find Aric.
Annihilate Richter.
Sol rolled his head on his neck. “Please tell me where we’re going. Por favor.”
“I told you. I’m taking you to Death.” Would Aric be immune to the Sun’s powers? Would his armor protect him?
“What will he do to me?”
“Unless he knows something about you that I don’t, he’ll keep you cuffed, your movements limited.” Aric had once kept me prisoner; I knew the drill. “I’ll ask that your Baggers be put somewhere safe.” Inside the castle’s huge menagerie, Lark’s animals now roamed free, their enclosures no longer needed since she’d come into her powers. I could borrow one of the cages. “You’ll eat well and have a warm bed to sleep in.”
In a quiet voice, Sol pointed out, “I don’t get cold, and I was already eating well before—”
“Wait.” I froze. A muted cry had sounded from somewhere. “Did you hear that?”
He shook his head.
Another cry, closer. An animal! A bird? I swept my gaze across the sky, spotting a falcon, one wearing a little leather helmet. “Lark! I’m here!” I jumped up and down and waved my arms. “Hey! Over here!”
The falcon banked, hovered, then dove for me.
“Thank God.” It was flying in fast, straight for me. “Lark, you’re coming in hot. Watch it!”
In a flutter of feathers, the bird leapt onto my shoulder, talons digging in.
“Enough! That freaking hurts.” It swooped its wings, seeming to urge me in one direction. “Okay, okay, I’m coming!”
Behind me, Sol said, “It didn’t have to be like this, Evie.”
I frowned, turning. “How did you know my name—”
His arm was swinging toward me, a large rock in his hand.
Pain.
The falcon’s screech.
Blackness.
13
I woke to a creepy sound. A slurping sound.
I managed to crack open my eyes, and almost lost what was left of my mind.
Four new Bagmen . . . drank me.
They’d bitten me. Had slashed at my clothes to get to my skin. They were greedily sucking my blood, jostling my limp body.