The Deck of Omens (The Devouring Gray #2) - Christine Lynn Herman Page 0,105

are… too much… so tangled.… My control is… fading.…

“If you know how to help us,” Justin said, “please. Tell us.”

The Beast’s form flickered in the air, and Harper wondered if it was too weak to materialize. The voice felt softer and weaker than she had ever heard it before.

I can tell you the ritual… the founders did.… They… we… They… met at the heart of things… and renounced their titles as the deities.… They gave their power back to the forest.…

Harper struggled to keep up. “Can you tell us how to do it again?”

The Beast’s form flickered again, and for a panicked moment Harper thought it was fading away. But then a sound drifted through the room like an ancient radio. It was the song the Church of the Four Deities had sung, but the lyrics were different. Harper had never heard these words before, soft and strange, and yet it felt as if she had always known them, the same way the voices that were singing them were new to her and yet just as familiar as her own name.

“Of course,” she whispered, understanding surging through her.

Then she saw the tear glistening in the corner of Justin’s eye?—gray and iridescent. Harper followed it down his cheek?—and then her throat clenched with dread. Because she could see something wriggling beneath the skin of his jawline. A root.

“I think…” Justin began, reaching a hand toward his cheek. “I think I’m…”

And then he shuddered and jolted backward, the staticky presence in the room fading away.

Harper lunged across the circle. Cards scattered everywhere as she gripped his shoulder, unable to hide her panic.

“Justin,” she whispered. “Oh, Justin, what did you do?”

“Don’t worry about me,” he said, shaking his head. “You got what you needed.”

Something was seeping through his shirt at the abdomen. Harper released his shoulder and yanked it upward, revealing his stomach. Gray veins pulsed beneath his skin.

“It’s not supposed to hurt you,” she whispered, horrified. “You’re a founder.”

“But I don’t have powers,” Justin said weakly, another iridescent tear sliding down his cheek. She could see the roots now, clustering beneath his skin. She had no idea how he’d hidden them for so long. “I’ve been corrupted since the lake. I figured it out when we got back. It’s moving more slowly than it did for the rest of the people who got sick, but it’s still spreading.” He sighed. “So I thought I could give you all a fighting chance instead of being a total liability.”

He locked eyes with her, and the determination in them surprised her: There was no hint of regret, no panic, only acceptance.

“You should have told us,” Isaac said, looking perturbed as Justin turned back around. “If you’ve been corrupted this whole time…”

“I know.” Justin looked at them all, shamefaced. “I just… I wanted to do something, okay? I wanted to matter, for once.”

Harper’s heart ached. She understood all too well what it was to feel powerless in a group of people who could do so much more than you. She knew he hadn’t asked to be corrupted. But that didn’t change the fact that he had just gone from an ally to a potential threat.

“Take off your shirt,” she said quietly.

Justin grinned at her. “Okay?—”

“Not like that.” She glared at him. “We need to know how bad it is.”

Dread coursed through her as he pulled his sweater over his head. He turned around, displaying his back, and her heart sank into her toes.

Silver veins snaked from his waistline up to his shoulders, the skin around them gray and iridescent. The roots had settled here, twitching slowly but not moving; they had joined together in a sort of spiral on his back, like a plant that had grown beneath his skin. There were far too many to cut out. Far too many to destroy.

“Harper.” It was Violet’s voice. She turned to see her friend crouched gently beside her, eyeing Justin with obvious trepidation. “Get back.”

“He’s our friend,” Harper protested. “And he can’t infect us?—”

Violet gripped her shoulder and tugged her away. “He’s still dangerous.”

A convulsion ran through him, and his shoulders twitched, his eyes glazing over. He dropped to his knees, coughing, then wiped away gray slime. When he looked up, Harper blanched.

Once again, she was staring at the Beast as it wore Justin’s face, as it stared back at her from those flat, dark eyes.

May didn’t remember how she’d returned to her own bed, but she was warm and comfortable, and the room was dark. She