Page 219 of Carousel

Because he’s resisting me, wincing. His freckles distort as he shakes his head.

I push harder. Ignore the physical pain doing that brings on in me.

Take it! Take it from me!

A jerk in my mind – through his – and then…

A click.

My magic sinks back into me.

Taking the breath I know will be my last, I hold onto him tighter as he pulls my mask up from my face and then over his own. His gloved hand shakes the entire time.

The wind is like ice on my now-bare face. My hair is swirling around my head.

I offer him a smile through the tears in my eyes. They’re there partly from the stinging cold, and partly from knowing this is the last view I’ll ever get to see.

At least the view is of him.

And at least I’ll know I did what I could to keep him alive.

Even if I let go of him now, he’s still connected to the glass. The door is still open. He could still make it.

My lungs are desperate for breath. My hand is wet with sweat. My ribs are constricting.

I’m swaying.

Then I give into instinct. Inhale the nothingness through my nose. My fingers loosen from around his wrist.

This is how it ends.

CHAPTER 40

The Deep Breaths

Cosmer is slipping away from me. I’m dizzy, like I’m on a carousel. I can’t get off it.

The world fades in and out as it goes round and round. I get glimpses of Dezeeves, who’s rushed out from behind me and is hanging out the airlock to help Cosmer in. He’s helping him because –

I’d let go of him.

Someone with strong arms, a warm, musky scent, has taken hold of me. Pulls me backwards, back out of the airlock – but I’m thrashing against him.

Because Dezeeves is a monster, and maybe he’s not helping Cosmer. Maybe he’s trying to throw him out.

Cosmer needed me.

And I let go of him.

Drake looms right over me, blocking my view of them. His eyes, deeply black right now, are narrowed. Determined. He’s trying to put something over my head.

It must be osimidite. I’ve been too disruptive. They’re going to drug me again.

Turn me into an addict. A half-dead huffer.

I panic, fight it. Punch the air. My fist collides with his jaw.

He hardly flinches. Keeps forcing the brass mask over my flailing head.