Firstlife (Everlife #1) Read online

  I stop and spin, facing the guards as they barrel toward me. I’ll fight to Second-death if necessary, but these men aren’t getting past me.

  A second later, the guards reach me and—

  chapter twenty-six

  “Today you live, tomorrow you die. Make what you do in the meantime matter.”

  —Troika

  I jerk upright, my eyelids flipping open. Archer is standing beside me, holding my hand.

  Relief bathes his features as he clutches my hand to his chest. “You’re alive. You’re going to be okay.”

  “Where am I?” My voice is a foggy rasp. I’m panting, my skin clammy. I’m also dizzy and weak. “Where’s Kayla? Reed?”

  He forces me to recline on a mound of pillows. “Let’s start with you. You’re in a Troikan safe house.”

  Another safe house...in a bedroom that’s been turned into a makeshift trauma ward. Different machines circle us, some of them beeping in tune to my heart. Monitors are anchored to the walls, flashing numbers and symbols I’ve never seen.

  “Kayla and Reed are in Troika, thanks to you,” Archer says with a bright smile. “You saved them.”

  “No.” I shake my head. “Killian. Killian saved them. But...how did you find them?”

  “They passed through a veil in Myriad and their spirits ended up in the Land of the Harvest. They were screaming for help, and a TL happened to be nearby. The two pledged allegiance to Troika, a bond formed and the TL was able to escort them into the realm.”

  There’s hope, then. There’s hope for the Unsigned, even after they die. They can be saved! They just have to find their way out of Many Ends...out of Myriad.

  I shudder. “Killian needs our help. He’s trapped.”

  “You’re in no condition—”

  “I don’t care. I have to go back for him. They put him in the Kennel, Archer. A dog cage.” I bite back a sob. “I have to go back.”

  “You won’t do anyone any good until you’ve regained your strength.” He releases my hand only long enough to pull a chair to the side of the bed. “Your aunt killed you.”

  “Yeah. I remember.” And wow. My throat hurts. I reach up, my hand trembling, and pat my neck. There’s a thick bandage covering the hole the pointy end of the paintbrush left behind. When my shoulder gives out, my arm falls uselessly to the mattress.

  Zero! Archer’s right. I’m no good to Killian in this condition. To navigate the Realm of Many Ends, to climb those cages and race through Myriad, I have to be at my best. They’ll be prepared next time, waiting and watching for me.

  Even still, my sense of urgency doesn’t fade.

  “Besides,” he says, “you owe me big-time. I saved your life. And guess what I want in return? For you to stay in bed until you are fully recovered.”

  Rat. He asks too much of me. “How did you find me?”

  “I received a message from someone who knew my rank and ID. This someone mentioned 10:17 on November 12 and a girl who dies at the crack house. I decided to check things out and found your body in a pool of blood.”

  “Lina sent you a message?”

  “That’s my guess.”

  “But how did she get your rank and ID? How did she get the equipment she needed?”

  “Those are excellent questions she refuses to answer.”

  Well...maybe I already know the answers. Loony Lina isn’t so loony, after all. She isn’t polyfused but gifted. She saw into the future. She knew how to navigate two realms. “Where is she now?”

  “Here. Locked up in the bedroom next door. She won’t hurt you again.”

  She hurt me, yes, but she also contacted Archer so that he could save me. Right now, I don’t know what to think about her. “How long have I been out?”

  “Only two days.”

  Only? That’s forty-eight hours Killian and Elena have spent inside their cages. If they haven’t been freed. They seemed to think they’d be released sooner rather than later.

  “Have you heard from Killian?” I ask.

  “No.”

  So he hasn’t been freed. My stomach sinks.

  “Levi came here,” Archer says, “shared his Lifeblood with you—it’s stronger than mine and it kept your body alive while your spirit was in Many Ends.”

  “And Myriad. Archer, Many Ends is connected to Myriad.”

  He worries two fingers over the golden shadow beard on his jaw. “I know. Reed told me. All Troika is shocked, and all Myriad is denying the boy’s claim. The realm doesn’t want us to know they have access to the spirits of the Unsigned. Probably because they don’t want us to know what they do to the spirits of the Unsigned.”

  Well, Killian knows the truth now. He’ll set the record straight. Once he’s free. I have to free him. “There are so many spirits locked in cages...not to mention the spirits being used as living bird food.” And worse!

  “I know that, too. The kids told us everything they’d been through.”

  “I have to help them. All of them.” But now that I’m away from the Kennels and my adrenaline’s on simmer, the task suddenly strikes me as impossible. Since I won’t sign with Myriad, I’ll have to remain Unsigned to enter Many Ends again. And next time, I’ll have more people to find and free, monster birds and nightmare gorillas to fight. They won’t give up their stashes of human-candy easily.

  So the question is: Do I go ahead and sign with Troika?

  I want to, it’s how I was leaning before this, but if I go that route, I may not be able to find another way inside Many Ends. And I haven’t yet gotten a very necessary promise from Archer. A promise he may not give me.

  I want him to save Killian from Myriad’s wrath.

  “Sign with Troika, Ten.” Archer must be reading my thoughts on my face. His stare turns mean. “We’ll find a way to save the spirits in Many Ends. Together.”

  “Can we? The only way I know to do that is to experience Firstdeath again and have you bring me back.” The risk! One day, my body won’t recover.

  “We’ll find another way.”

  I want to trust him. I do. I didn’t trust him in Prynne, and I didn’t trust him when my father came storming into my room, and yet he came through for me anyway.

  “Will you save Killian from Myriad’s wrath? Because they’ve tied his life to my decision. If I sign with Troika, he dies.”

  Archer closes his eyes. “I can’t. I can’t get inside Myriad, and that’s where they’ll keep him.”

  “Then I’m going to remain Unsigned a little longer.”

  Now he glares at me. “Just because we can’t see the solution doesn’t mean there’s no solution at all.”

  “You make a good point, but I’m weak, and this isn’t the time to make a life-altering decision.”

  “There’s no better time.” But he sighs and mercifully changes the subject. “How about a celebratory poem?”

  “You’d like it to rhyme, I’m guessing.”

  “Only because I deserve the best.”

  Ha! “If there’s one thing I know, it’s this. When I was dead, I was missed. You, Archer Prince, think I’m great, so much better than the numbers six, seven, eight. Even nine! Because it’s time, it’s time, it’s time you faced facts—life without me seriously lacks. And before you get huffy and try to deny it, there’s something I should probably admit. I guess I love you, even though you’re a pain. But I’m pretty sure that means...I’m completely insane.”

  * * *

  In an effort to rebuild my stamina, I walk the treadmill for ten minutes...twenty... All the while, I peer out the window. At the trees swaying in a strong breeze, at the sun shining over rolling hills. I want to be standing in a warm, golden ray—crave it. Actually, I want to be kissing Killian in a warm, golden ray.

  I have to leave this safe house, and soon.

  Two days have passed since I first woke in bed, and still there’s been no sign of Killian or Elena. My frustration level is nearing detonation.

  “Zero!” I punch the console, causing th
e machine to speed up.

  Oops. Detonation achieved.

  “Temper much?” Deacon strides into the gym, a built-on room at the back of the house, spacious but crammed with equipment. He’s wearing a skintight shirt, his jeans ripped and his combat boots caked in mud. He crosses his arms over the monitor on the treadmill.

  “Yes.” I slow the speed so I won’t be quite so winded during our conversation. “How are Kayla and Reed?”

  “They’re good. They’ve entered training to become Laborers.”

  They’re both cautionary tales for the hazards of remaining Unsigned, so they should excel at their new jobs. Then again, there are morons like me...

  I can’t let go of my desire to return to Many Ends and save the spirits still trapped. I can’t let go of Killian.

  “You want to know who isn’t doing so well?” he continues. “Sloan. She’s missing. Has been since we split after the party.”

  Oookay. Way to stop me in my tracks. I punch the proper button and the tread slows even more...stops...and the incline lowers. I grab my towel and dab at my sweaty brow. “How does Archer always find me? Do that. Find her.” I don’t like that she’s missing.

  “You called for him. She hasn’t called for me.”

  Right. “I think she planned to go home to finally torch her family’s estate. Have you looked there?”

  His nod is clipped. “First place I checked.”

  Zero!

  Bang! Bang! Bang!

  In unison, we turn toward the north wall. The wall blocking us from Lina—Aunt Lina or Loony Lina?

  Bang! Bang! Bang!

  I’ve seen her only once since leaving my sickbed, but she didn’t even realize I was in the room, stared past me when I gripped her shoulders and shouted, “Why? How could you do that to me?” I left unsatisfied and angry.

  “Want me to check on her?” he asks.

  “No. I’ll do it. Then we’ll search for Sloan. And Killian,” I add quietly. “Together.”

  He grunts. Not an agreement but not a rejection, either.

  Bang! Bang! Bang!

  Resigned, I stalk down the hall. At the end is Lina’s room, the wall in front of me no longer made of plaster but of bulletproof glass. Amazing what kind of repairs and changes these Laborers can make in a short amount of time. Lina is pacing, her hands wringing together. She’s been bathed—a female Laborer showed up yesterday not just to feed her one of those glorious mouth strips but to brush and braid her hair and change her clothes. She’s now wearing a pretty pink dress with ruffles.

  I place my hand on the ID panel. A laser shines between my fingers, warm to my skin. The lock on the door opens, followed by the door itself. I step inside, and Lina instantly calms.

  “You shouldn’t have trusted her,” she says.

  Loony Lina. Here we go again. While I know she somehow sees into the future, making sense of her statements is nearly impossible until after the fact. “Who shouldn’t I have trusted?”

  “Her. I’m sorry she died.”

  My stomach clenches. “Who died, Lina?”

  “You died. I cried. He died. You cried. She died. So many died.” A tear slides down her cheek. “Why didn’t I die?”

  As angry as I am with her, I don’t like seeing her upset. And in a way, I’m glad the events played out the way they did. Had she not killed me, I wouldn’t have freed Kayla and Reed. I wouldn’t have learned Myriad and Many Ends are connected. I wouldn’t have any clue what happened to Killian.

  Warm breath brushes my face, and I blink, only then realizing Lina is in front of me. Zero! Concentrate!

  “Lina,” I say. “Help me understand. Please.” If she’s suicidal, she must understand her own condition. And it must be horrible, living with all that death in her head, knowing what will happen, but being unable to prevent the disasters from coming to pass. “Please,” I repeat.

  She opens her mouth, snaps it closed. “So many names. So many disasters. So many deaths.”

  “Who dies—died—next?”

  Her eyes stare at nothing...or a future I still can’t see. “The public execution.”

  Finally! We’re getting somewhere. Though I want to shake her, I remain still. No matter how frantic I feel, I can’t risk sending her back into the abyss of memories that haven’t yet happened.

  “The boy...the Laborer. The human girl,” she says.

  My blood grows cold. A public execution. A Laborer and a human girl. There is only one missing male Laborer, and only one missing human girl. “Killian? Sloan? What happens—happened—to them?” If I know, I can save them. I have to save them!

  “The public execution,” she repeats. “Madame...she killed him. Him, the Laborer. You cried. I’m sorry.”

  No, no, no. “Where is—was—the execution?” I can barely get the words out.

  “The road...the steps...you looked so pretty in your white dress.”

  The white dress? From the spa? Is she confusing two different days in the same location?

  Her hand darts out and clutches mine, surprising me. “The war...it’s coming here. Trickling, trickling, then comes the flood.”

  Present tense. This is the first time I’ve ever heard her use it while in this state. Why now? “What war? The one between Troika and Myriad?”

  “You can’t stop it. No one can. The dragon strikes. The lion roars.” Her grip tightens on me. “What happens tomorrow changes everything.”

  Tomorrow is the execution? Urgency drives me as I kiss her cheek and mutter, “Thank you.” I rush to the door.

  “You died, I cried,” she says.

  Back to past tense. Because we’re no longer touching?

  I turn and find her pacing again, wringing her hands, her eyes once again staring into the distance. I will help her. Somehow. First, though, I have to help Killian and Sloan.

  “Deacon,” I call as I lock the door. “Archer!”

  I run toward the living room, heading for the gym, where I last spoke with Deacon, but he meets me in the kitchen. “I think I know where Sloan is, or where she’s going to be, and I’m positive she’s in danger.”

  In a flash of light, Archer appears beside his friend. He’s pale, his lips drawn tight.

  “Pearl is planning a public execution,” I say.

  Archer nods. “Word has been sent to all Troika. Killian and Sloan are scheduled to die bright and early in the morning.”

  “Myriad, as terrible as they are, will never allow Pearl to kill an Unsigned human in public,” Deacon says. “It’s bad for business.”

  “Sloan,” Archer replies, his voice sad, “signed with Myriad a few hours ago. Her spirit now belongs to them.”

  Deacon closes his eyes, his shoulders slumping.

  My friend signed with my enemy. And they are my enemy. They are hurting those I love, planning to do worse.

  I pinch the bridge of my nose, feeling as though I’m partly to blame for Sloan’s decision. I should have spent more time with her at the party, should have discussed our futures in more detail.

  But really, what good would I have done her? She saw the Exchange, same as I did. She knew the great value Troika places on all life.

  Still. I love her, and I’m not going to watch her die. “Gather your troops,” I say. “We’re going after them.”

  They don’t hop to, but pause to share a look.

  “What?” I demand.

  “You know Killian and Sloan belong to Myriad.” There’s remorse in Archer’s voice, and that’s a step in the right direction, but he still sucks right now.

  “They are people, regardless of their realm. If you won’t help them—won’t help me—fine. I’ll save them on my own.”

  “And you’ll be walking into a trap,” Archer says. “Word of the execution was sent to us simply to draw you out of hiding. That’s Pearl’s MO, as she’s proved. Here, at least, you’re safe. She can’t get to you.”

  “I don’t care.”

  I stalk to my room to bag up the weapons I’ve colle
cted. A few daggers, an Oxi, a Stag, two kitchen knives. That done, I strap on my leather bracelets.

  When I turn, Deacon is leaning against my door frame. “All right, you’ve talked me into it. I’m going with you. For Sloan, not for Killian.”

  I’ll take what help I can get, however I can get it. “What about Archer?”

  “Let me tell you something, little girl. Troika has legions of armies, but every single one is otherwise engaged, especially now that we’re down to only one Conduit. These armies are stationed throughout your world and our own. They fight to protect a race of people who do not see them or even think to thank them. They have very little time off—if any at all. They work tirelessly. They’re injured often. They don’t need more to do.”

  “I commend them,” I say, even though I don’t know why he’s telling me all this. “What about Archer?” I repeat.

  “He went to ask the King for an army.”

  chapter twenty-seven

  “You have a Secondlife, but not a second chance. Choose wisely.”

  —Myriad

  That night, Deacon and I head for the spa to set up shop. We’re about a mile away when we come to a roadblock, Myriad Shells on patrol. We backtrack with every intention of reaching the designated area from the other direction, only to find another roadblock. An attempt to sneak past it will either prove really stupid or really smart.

  Thing is, once we’re out for the count, we’re out. The end.

  Eventually, we decide to back off. Pearl planned for everything, placing her people everywhere. On top of buildings. At every entrance and exit of every road and building within a one-mile radius. She’s serious about my capture. Or rather, my murder. By killing me and sending me to Many Ends, she’s certain Ashley will one day get another chance to enter Myriad. She’s desperate, and that desperation is going to be her downfall. I can’t sink to the same level.

  I have to stay calm. Stay ready.

  We return to the safe house to wait out the night, pacing, pacing...until finally morning dawns, the execution scheduled to begin in less than an hour. As soon as we see Killian and Sloan, Deacon is going to do the beam-me-up-Scotty thing, transporting me straight to the scene of the crime. He tries to talk me out of going that route, but I’m determined. Even when he tells me the human body always has a poor reaction to traveling from one point to the other in only a blink. Whatever. I’m willing to risk a little motion sickness.