Epilogue

Epilogue 3.25

     My eyes widen as I recall the feeling of feeding my very essence into the blade and using that energy to slice through the strix that attacked us. A realization begins to dawn on me. "Were you... testing me?"

     She winks. "You caught me."

     "Why?"

     "The group I was with before. I thought that if I taught them how to soul ply, they'd be able to defend themselves better. But there's a catch. There's always a catch." She shakes her head. "When you ply, you're converting your own soul into energy and burning it off. It'll replenish itself by absorbing energy from the natural world, but at a much slower rate than you're burning it off. Plying requires a delicate balance. Not everybody can handle that balance."

     "So they..."

     "They burned out." She looks me right in the eyes. "Once you learn how to ply, you can do things you never would've thought yourself capable of. It's easy to get so high off your own power that you wind up pushing yourself too far."

     I swallow. "If I learn how to ply... could I beat Colby?"

     "Yes."

     That gets me on my feet. "Teach me."

     "It's not that simple. Soul plying takes years to master."

     I roll my eyes. "Yeah, I've seen enough movies to know there's got to be some sort of short cut. So spill it."

     Melody sighs. "I can activate your powers by transferring some of my soul over to you."

     "How does that work?"

     She stands up and stretches. "I'll have to stab you through the heart with my beam sword."

     "Of course."

     "It'll hurt—a lot. Both of us."

     "And you'd be willing to do that for me?"

     "I've got my fingers crossed that the part of my soul I pass on to you is the part with all the guilt and self-loathing."

     "Fair enough."

     She gets up close to me, and it's probably—almost certainly—in my head, but I can practically feel our auras pulling us together. Like some sort of metaphysical magnetism. Maybe it's those heterochromatic eyes. Everything sort of drops away as we're drifting closer...

     Until she pushes me away. "What are you doing?"

     Should've seen this one coming. Honestly, I'm not sure myself. I've still got unresolved feelings for Olivia. And Comma, whatever that was about. And Gail. That last one's not really my fault. Bits of coding that didn't get properly wiped. "I don't know. I just thought..."

     "You thought that I'd want to hook up because we might not live to see tomorrow?" She smirks, crossing her arms. "That's not me. Tell you what. If we make it to paradise, you can try and win me over the old-fashioned way."

     Her grin is contagious. "That's a big if."

     "Well let's see if we can't do something about that." Her beam sword roars to life. The energy blade hovers close to my skin, and I can already feel its sting. I wince—maybe this isn't such a good idea. "You ready?" she asks.

     "No."

     She nods. "Good. Me neither."

     And then she plunges the blade through my chest.

---She of the Many Shadows---

     The taste of freedom should be as sweet as the blood trickling out of a newborn's neck, and yet it is tainted. Each gust of wind against the skin of my vessel is like a flaming thorn to my soul. The very essence of this world is a poison that seeps through my pores and corrupts my being. Here, my powers wane.

     The air, it reeks of terrestrial. The lava tickles my bare feet as I tread uphill. I'm suffocating. This world is not vast enough to contain me; I shall have to break free of this wretched prison and seek more suitable accommodations. But first, I must dispose of this vessel.

     I arrive at the foot of the volcano and bend down to sip from the fountain of lava that surrounds me. It tastes bitter on my tongue; this world is cheap and putrid, as I suspected. The reek is stronger here. Someone approaches.

     She joins me amid the sea of bubbling molten rock. The smoke forms a dome around us. I recognize this one. She assumes the form of a woman, but with the wings and talons of a bird of prey. This lowly wretch is servant to the vilest of my oppressors. Her name escapes me; it is trivial. The fear in her eyes is unmistakable.

     "I want you to leave," says the pathetic harpy, folding her wings behind her back. She is clothed, like a human, and her violet hair dangles in braids. Physical manifestations of her enslavement. "You are not welcome here."

     I feel an irresistible urge to tilt my head to the side—a bodily tic of my vessel, presumably. "This is your world, is it not?"

     "It is," says the harpy, brandishing her talons. And again, she repeats, "You are not welcome here."

     "Would you cast me out?"

     The harpy snarls. "Your presence here will be the undoing of us all. The spectre of death has already set its gaze on my sister, Eloise. But I don't see why I should die with her, nor you."

     "Foolish child," I say, approaching the harpy. "You need not worry about spectres. I will be your undoing."

Author's Note:

Looks like Em's about to get a power-up, assuming he can survive it. Meanwhile, Strix confronts She of the Many Shadows. With any luck, they'll wipe each other out (though I suppose that wouldn't bode well for Jewel).

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