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“Elysia…” Quillion’s voice cracks, and he wraps his arm around my shoulder.
Aching for her more than ever, I adopt Nita’s voice and put on a brave face to reassure him, “Don’t you start fussing, you flouncy, old fossil. I still have till almost sunrise.” My words are frail when I utter them, belief in my heart fading to the firestorm in my veins, the fatigue in my body, the sores afflicting my throat.
“I can’t allow you to the main border encampment, Princess.”
“Just take me to the quarantined zone. I’ll heal all I can.” I squeeze his hand and trace the Tenth Court designs on his bishop’s robe.
“Can’t you heal yourself?”
“Too much of a lethal dose, like you said,” I excuse, but even if I could do such a thing, if there is a price to pay, it will be my ultimate sacrifice.
When I reach the border, then the quarantined zone, I understand: this is what he truly meant by me paying the price with my heart. Curling up beside my best friend on the mere cot lying in the dirt, I clasp the Underground Queen’s hand and lean my head against the braids on her chest as she forbids me from healing her.
“Please, Jes,” I press her again, casting tiny gold crowns along her braids where some Scourge blood lingers. “You still have a husband and four sons. You’re still the leader of the Underground. We need you.Ineed you.”
“Children first,” she insists, jerking a finger to the random little ones all over the warehouse, bereft of any belongings. All of them are fresh, bleeding wounds once everything was taken. Some parents regard me with contempt, lips pinched, eyes dangerous and desperate because the Prince did all this in my name. A double disgrace and debasement.
Obeying Jesula’s command, perhaps her last command, I utter a silent breath prayer to Goddess, to the angels, to the saints, to our holy foremothers, and even to Death to let her live, to let her strong soul hold onto its body. Quillion remains nearby as I pursue the children, lay my hands on them, and pulse Halo power into them. For each one, it takes longer, and some parents force me to give up rather than give their little ones false hope. Some don’t even let me near because anyone can see I’m infected from my skin paling, the black capillaries growing, my flesh splotching red, and my coughing fits.
Today, I use everything I have when visiting multiple quarantined zones and prioritize the children just as Jesula asked.
By the time nightfall approaches, my gown is ruined. Nothing left but the innermost layer since I’ve torn a great deal of it to provide some warmth for the others. My cape was the first thing to go. All my jewels, my gold circlet—traded to the knights to offer some rations to the quarantined. If I can’t bring their hearts any hope, the least I can do is fill their bellies.
“The blood moon will rise soon,” Quillion alerts me, but I kneel beside my best friend and weep because her breath is weak. Jesula is never weak.
“You’re still my girl,” wheezes Jesula, striving in vain to lift her hand to my cheek, to wipe away the tears that glisten there, but as soon as one drops, I realize they are not gold: they are blood. “Just sorry that I didn’t get to use my taser one last time because he hurt you. And no one messes with my family.”
“Oh, Jesula!” I slam my head down onto her chest and press my lips to her burning skin. Just as I do, I notice Quillion, out of the corner of my eye, retrieving something from his waistcoat. A syringe.
I flick my head up as he lowers himself to the ground beside us, takes Jesula’s arm, and swabs the skin before injecting her. “I only managed to smuggle one dose, but it will delay the Scourge as long as possible. And my silver blood that I added will help her sleep.”
I embrace Quillion and whimper, “Is there any hope, Quill?”
“Not without a cure.”
Yes, a cure. Now, I realize where I need to go. The one place I may find some hope. In the most hopeless of places. Tonight, this demon vampire of a Scourge will not escape me. So, I kiss Quillion on the cheek, harness the last reservoirs of my power to hold the virus inside my system at bay, and make my way toward the Spirit Woods. Thanatos’ offer weighs heavy on my shoulders while the chill of the forest lurks along my bare arms and seeps past the thin layer of my gown, little more than a chemise at this point. Goosebumps riddle my flesh. A patchwork of black veins pollutes the skin of my chest if they know to target my heart first, but they will have to get through the fortress of dark serpents surrounding it.
“Where are you?” I scream within the cadaverous trees, almost daring any Fallen or ghouls or demons to attack me. Claws scraping on trees echo around me. Screams in the distance. Monsters are ripe within the Chasm’s playground tonight.
“Elysia.”
The sudden lilt of her voice does not shock me as it should. Or perhaps I’m just too weak to care that I was blind to her all this time. Far too tangled up in believing she was just a Father pawn. Far too tangled up in the pretty mess of her flesh and face and the trauma marks she stole from me. Far too tangled up in Neo and yanking on his tether and trying to tear them apart. But when I turn and behold Lux’s eyes wreathed in amber flame and the Father standing next to her with his fingers stroking her silver song strands, I understand she may be a pawn, but she is also his queen.
“Where’s my mother?” is my first demand of the Father. “Where’s Nita?” is my second.
The Father chuckles, fingering Lux’s strands as if they are chains he and he alone imprison. “Why, your mother is at Court, Elysia. Do you think I would honestly miss my own son’s pregnancy announcement? Or his holiday festivities? As for Nita, she got the answers she was after. I trust she is undoubtedly wrestling with my gift even as we speak. But she will not succeed. Plans in motion, wheels spinning,” he boasts and steps toward me.
“Why the Scourge?” I heave another series of coughs as the Father begins to circle me.
“It bought me the time I needed to find the necromancer. They are so awfully tricky to track down, you see. When it became clear to me even before our Triumvirate pact that you would foreseeably never give up the spoils of your goldenbountybeyond that single strand,” he pauses behind me to scent my curls, continuing, “I needed a backup plan. Death was only too happy to oblige me with that strand…for a price.”
I angle my neck back to him, fuming, “Whatprice?”
The Father tucks his hands behind his back and dips his head low so his eyes—nebulous dark like eternal dungeons breeding monsters and torture—deadpan against mine. “Neo’s heart.”
I almost buckle. All this time, Thanatos has held Neo’s heart. He could have given it to me at any time! Adrenaline-induced bursts of Halo light careen from my skin like lightning but not quite striking. No wonder he played Destruction so well!
“Little matter that Death turned into a far greater ally than you ever considered.” He dismisses the lightning tendrils breeding on my skin. “Both my sons of old will be returned to me before the rising sun, and we shall form a new Triumvirate once you are dead. The only time the sun rises in my kingdom is following a blood moon. Did you know that, Elysia?”
