Archer glances at her then Clay, and he frowns. “Clay?”
“When we reach the town, or wherever it is we’re going,” Clay announces with no hint of levity, “I’m going sign with Troika. No more waiting. You were right.”
I trip over my own foot, barely managing to remain upright. “Why the rush? Yesterday you said you had time and—” No! Zip it! His future is his own. I have no right to pressure him the way others have pressured me.
It’s just...deep down I want him to wait until I make a decision, want him to pick the realm I pick.
I’m just as bad as my parents.
“I thought about it all night,” he continues, “and then this happened. We’re on the run again. None of us know when the end will come. And no matter how many mistakes I’ve made, I want to be ready for mine.”
His assurance makes a mockery of my uncertainty.
“We do this now.” Archer leads us into a small cave. “There’s no need to wait until we reach the town.”
For several heartbeats of time, no one says a word. We’re too busy panting. And gagging. The canned chicken has challenged my stomach to a blood feud.
Archer types into his arm, a soft blue light radiating from his flesh. Jellyair falls from the top rocky ledge of the entrance, finally hitting the icy ground and sealing us inside. “You ready?”
Clay nods. “What do I need to do?”
“Offer a simple pledge of allegiance. Nothing more, nothing less.”
“But remember,” I say as I clutch my side, “that simple pledge is permanent. There will be no going back.”
Pressuring him again. Stop!
“Don’t be an idiot.” Mist wafts in front of Sloan’s face as she continues to labor for every breath. “The realms only want worker bees and soldiers for their war.”
“Does that really matter? He has to pick a realm. His only other option is Many Ends.” I shudder, knowing I can deny its existence no longer. Something I’d done because I hadn’t wanted to accept the possibility I’d end up there. “The realm is the Prynne Asylum of the Everlife, nothing but punishment and pain. I just... I don’t want to end up as your enemy, Clay.”
He tugs at a lock of my hair. “You won’t. Not ever.”
“You’re both buying into the hype. Many Ends can’t be as bad as Laborers claim,” Sloan says. “Eternal punishment simply for choosing not to sign with Myriad or Troika? Bullcorn!”
Archer looks at her with pity. “A pledge to Troika creates a bond to the realm. Same with Myriad. A bond that grants entrance into the realm. The Unsigned are bondless, so their spirits have only one place to go. Many Ends.”
I’ve heard this before, but for the first time I wonder... “Are the kids of the Unsigned sent to Many Ends?”
“No. Children are somehow bonded to both Troika and Myriad. I’ve often been assigned the task of sitting with a dying child so that I’m there at the moment of death, able to escort the spirit into Troika. At the Age of Accountability, the bonds are broken and the spirit is allowed to choose us or Myriad, just like a human.”
Sloan hunches over and waves her hand as if she has more to say, but she’s too winded to care anymore.
I lean against the ice-cold rocky wall, happy for Clay, sad for me. “I’ll support your decision,” I tell him. “Whatever it is.”
Archer pats him on the shoulder again. “All of Troika will become your family. When you need our help, you have only to ask for it. And when you enter the Everlife, you will be trained in the position most suited to you. Messenger, I think you said.”
Clay is all but salivating. And then he does it. He utters the vow all children are taught by at least one of the Laborers—the vow that will forever decide the course of his life. “With my heart, mind and body, I believe Troika is the realm for me. I pledge my Firstlife. I pledge my Everlife. All that I am is Troika’s, and Troika is mine.”
“And so it’s done,” Archer says with a big grin.
Just. Like. That. A future now forever charted.
I expect bright lights, or cheering to echo from some secret place. Something. Anything! But nothing happens.
Archer cups Clay by the nape and pulls him close for a bro-hug, the two patting each other on the back.