“Absolutely not,” Daniel says in the silence that follows.
“They want to capture me more than they want Gregor dead,” I reply.
“Is that supposed to convince me that surrendering yourself to the Trackers is a good idea? They will kill you, Bree.”
“Let the girl do whatever she wants,” Celine says.
Daniel scowls at her and places a hand on my back. He urges me through the bedroom door. We stop in the sitting room, facing each other. I wait quietly, watching him search for the right words.
“What are you thinking?” he finally says. “I need to understand what could possibly make you contemplate this. Are you giving up? Is that it? Do you want to die?”
“I don’t want to die,” I reply. “I don’t even want to get caught. But Gregor will die if I don’t do something now. I’m responsible for what the Trackers are doing to him. Daniel, you don’t know what it was like to see that girl die before my eyes, knowing I had something to do with it. I can’t let that happen again. I’m duty-bound to help Gregor.”
He clasps my upper arms. “You had nothing to do with that girl’s death. Nothing. Ashin and those involved in her murder are solely to blame. Eve is to blame for what’s happening to Gregor. Don’t think I don’t understand your need to protect him, but handing yourself over to the Trackers isn’t the solution.”
“You’re not listening. I don’t intend to get caught.” Even I’m not that foolish. Then again, what I’m suggesting is just as crazy. “I’m only going to tempt them with the opportunity to capture me.”
Daniel hesitates. “What do you mean?”
“I’ll offer myself in exchange for Gregor’s blade. Deliver that message to your uncle and make him believe you’re the only one who can convince me to go through with the plan.”
“Why’s that?” he asks.
“Because you know me, and you know that I trust you. Once the blade is safely within Celine’s grasp—and once she disappears with it—I’ll surrender myself to you. When I try to escape, you won’t be able to stop me. By the time your uncle hears of this, I’ll be safe, and so will Gregor and Celine.”
His hands slide away from my arms. He leans back against a wall. “Assuming I’m even considering this insanity, there are a few problems. Maxwell won’t let me return with the Scarlet Blade alone. I doubt he’d let me leave without at least five Trackers accompanying me.”
I consider this. “You mentioned before that Trackers are bound by their marks to be obedient. Wouldn’t they do whatever you tell them to?”
“Not if what I say contradicts their nature as Trackers,” Daniel replies. “I can’t order them to let you walk away with Celine and the dagger.”
“But you can order them to stand back and let you handle things, can’t you?”
“It’s too risky. I don’t know how it works—or if it’ll even work. And what if Maxwell sends Ashin or some other superior along? They won’t obey me.”
“That’s why you have to convince Maxwell that I’ll only surrender myself to you. Make him think I’m some frightened, gullible Twice Born. Tell him you don’t want to risk scaring me off before I turn myself over to you. Which is exactly what’ll happen if I see Ashin.”
The dissatisfaction doesn’t leave his face. “Maxwell could very well decide to ambush you and be done with it.”
“He needs us alive to get Eve’s power. Otherwise he would’ve have killed us by now. So tell him if anything goes wrong, I’ll slit my own throat.” Seeing me with a blade poised over my throat should make his men think twice about cheating us.
Daniel runs a hand through his hair. “This goes against everything I believe. I can’t agree to it.”
I almost relent, because I’m afraid of all of the things that could go wrong, but I can’t back down now. “Then I’ll have no choice but to do this alone.”
“Bree.” A warning tone.
I lean toward him, my voice softening. “Gregor and his wife defied great odds to be together. I don’t want their love to end so tragically now. Even if none of this is my fault, I won’t be able to live with myself if I don’t do everything in my power to help them.”
“I never realized you had such an adventuresome spirit,” he says begrudgingly.
“Far from it,” I say, smiling a little. “I’ve spent my whole life afraid to take risks, letting Eve do everything for me. I keep telling myself that my greatest purpose is to find my little brother, but how can I do so if I live in fear of Trackers? I run at the first sight of them—just like I did when I found out you were one. I’m tired of running. This has to change.”
He’s silent for a long moment. Gregor’s moans and Celine’s murmurs carry into the sitting room.
“I’ll go along with this,” Daniel says, “only because you have a look in your eyes that tells me nothing will change your mind. But we’ll only proceed with your plan if I determine it’s safe to do so. Don’t do anything rash on your own, all right?”
I thought I’d feel relief if he agreed, but the dread and anxiety overpower it. I push down everything, steeling myself for what I have to do. “Thank you.”
Daniel gives me an exasperated look that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Didn’t I tell you to stop thanking me for every little thing?”
Smiling, I take his hand. “Come. We have work to do.”
#
For the third time in two days, I’m at the terrace. I’m sitting on the top step just below the one covered in moss and overgrown plants. Snakes and insects are the least of my worries.
Daniel left an hour ago to negotiate with his uncle, and he hasn’t returned yet. If he’s not back in another two hours, we’ll have an entirely new problem to contend with.
Eve.
If she emerges by then, things will go in one of two directions. She’ll either run away or attack the Trackers. But I doubt she’d be willing to help us save Gregor’s life.
Celine stands at the bottom of the steps, her body angled away and her arms tight over her chest. I can picture her eyes darting everywhere, suspicious and alert. She has no desire to confront Trackers any more than I do. But I know she’ll do anything for her dying husband.
“He should be back at any moment,” I say, to reassure her and myself.
She snorts and brushes a stray lock behind one ear. “Assuming that boy really is on our side.”
“He is.” At least she believes I’m on her side. “I’m sorry for what Eve did to you yesterday. She acted without my permission.”
“She did what I would have done if threatened.”
I remember the way Celine pinned me to the wall yesterday. And the way Tristan reacted when I fought back against him. It makes sense that Celine doesn’t blame Eve. In a lot of ways, they’re exactly alike. “Did you eclipse your dominant half?” I ask her.
She looks back at me before her eyes return to surveying our surroundings. “Not in the way you think. I was in the Sunblade’s captivity when it happened, shortly after I met Gregor. They gave me a potion that strengthened me until I completely eclipsed Jasmine’s existence. Whether or not I wanted her gone, within a matter of days, she was.”
“Did you want her gone?”
“Two opposing forces cannot co-exist together in a limited space,” Celine says so softly I have to strain my ears to catch her words. “Not without destroying each other. But Jasmine didn’t deserve what happened to her. She didn’t deserve to die for being born under such unfortunate circumstances.”
Conflicted. That’s what Celine sounds like. Burdened with guilt, but she has the determination to live that I’ve seen in Eve and Tristan.
I wonder if Eve will regret my death if she manages to eclipse me. If she’ll look back on the past and tell herself that she did the right thing by ridding herself of me. If she’ll speak with Celine’s soft, sorrowful tone when she mentions my tragic end to a stranger.
“Here he comes,” Celine says.
In the distance before us, a group of men have rounded a corner and are now heading toward us. Daniel leads them, his face stony—and his hands empty. No sight of the Scarlet Blade yet. But no Ashin either, which is a good sign.
I rise with a great deal of anxiety, and squint against the orange sun as Daniel heads off the path and crosses the grassy field between us. The knife in my hand feels heavy. I grip it tightly, hoping that the sight of it will prevent these Trackers from attempting to attack.
They don’t want me dead, I tell myself for the twentieth time. Not yet, anyway. Not until Eve eclipses me so they’ll drain her blood. And I have a feeling Maxwell and Ashin would love to take me as some sort of trophy.
Daniel stops about thirty strides away and speaks to the five men who accompany him. There is a lot of gesturing and shaking of heads, but ultimately, the men stay a few paces behind when he walks over to us. His eyes are on mine, his face stoic.
“Get down here,” he says loudly enough that his companions can hear.
I harden my voice. “Not until you hand her the Scarlet Blade.”
He lifts his eyebrow slightly, the only indication of emotion. I imagine he’s impressed with my pretense at toughness. Reaching behind him, he pulls out the sheathed dagger and holds it out to her. Celine grabs it immediately, though she hesitates when she glances back at me.
“Go on,” I tell her. It’s a miracle I’m still standing when my legs feel so unstable.
“Thank you,” Celine whispers before she hurries away to a nearby horse. She mounts it and disappears down a narrow street between a row of buildings and the canal.
Daniel looks up at me. “Come with me, Bree.”
I know that the tension in his voice is concern, but it sounds enough like hostility to fool the Trackers. I keep my eyes on them as I take tentative steps toward him. When I reach the bottom, Daniel grabs the weapon from my hand—probably worried I will go through with the threat to kill myself—and clasps my other elbow.
“I’ll take her to Maxwell myself,” he says to the five men.
“Master Ellis ordered us to remain with you,” a long-faced, bearded one replies.
Daniel’s grip tightens on my arm. I fight the urge to look at him and see how he’s taking this. “I’m giving you a different order now,” he says to the man. “Go find something else to do. Plenty of Twice Born left to capture in Belveer. I’ll handle this one.”
The man’s gaze slides away from Daniel’s face. He blinks three times. Everything in me is frozen, waiting, praying.
He looks up again. “Master Ellis wants us to escort her. I’m sorry, Daniel, but I have to follow his orders.”
The other four men’s silence suggests they feel the same way. Perhaps compulsion works on different degrees, and Maxwell’s words have a greater effect than Daniel’s. Which means Daniel has no choice but to take me straight to his uncle.
He drops my arm and turns toward the men, surprising me. There is rigidness in his form, his muscles wound tightly. An aggressive stance. He intends to fight them. What’s he thinking? They will kill him. Even Eve can’t take on five armed Trackers by herself.
And if he were to win, he’ll end up just like Gregor. As long as they have his Scarlet Blade, Daniel will never be safe from the Sunblade.
I can’t let him do this.
Shifting my weight on my left leg, I drive my elbow into the soft spot beneath his ribs.
The air rushes out of his mouth in a grunt. I don’t wait to see what he does next. I whirl around and break into a run. I nearly trip on pinecones as I race downhill, and veer left when I reach the narrow, paved street.
The unexpectedness of my move puts some distance between the Trackers and me. Barely. I hear them close behind me, their boots scuffing and pounding along the street.
The clear-watered canal stretches out to my right, so close I’ll fall into it if I’m not careful. If Eve were here, she would use it to her advantage and toss the Trackers into it one by one. I don’t have the strength to do so, or the agility to avoid losing my balance. So I stick with the street, until I reach the limestone bridge over the canal.
The first Tracker catches up to me. He grabs the back of my collar and yanks me hard. I struggle to free myself, but he manages to wind his other arm around me, immobilizing me. I have mere heartbeats to get away, but he’s much stronger than me. I can’t break free.
I have to do something else.
Closing my eyes, I grab at my power. I don’t try to control it like I always have, instead letting the pressure in my head build until it feels like I’m underwater, being sucked into a whirlpool. It stops on its own, honing into that familiar pressure at the front of my skull.
The Tracker’s hand begins to morph beneath mine, hardening into limestone like the bridge I clutch with my other hand. Screaming, he stumbles away from me and loses his balance.
A loud splash sounds behind me as I dash away again.
The men yell to their companion. I don’t dare look back to make sure they’ve stopped to help him. Across the canal into Market Avenue, the streets are busier, the alleys crowded. I’m small enough to slip around islanders and squeeze between cracked stone walls and bodies, but the Trackers charge right through the crowd, knocking people off their feet.
My lungs begin to burn. I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to continue running. I race past a clothing line, ignoring the shout of the woman hanging laundry, and dart into an open door.
A butcher’s shop. The giant butcher looks up at the sight of me panting and disheveled. He’s broad-faced and his skin is blotched with red. His thick eyebrows pull together.
“No beggars allowed,” he says in a deep rumbling voice.
I lean against the wall, breathing hard. “Just—just need a moment to catch my breath. Please. I won’t be a bother.”
“Have you seen a girl run by here?”
I stiffen at the Tracker’s voice.
He’s close, maybe two shops from where I hide. Another one speaks up, this one even closer. “Good citizens of Belveer! There’s a Twice Born on the loose! She is slim and black-haired, and she wears a long brown coat. Have any of you seen her?”
The butcher’s eyes widen slightly. They move over my face and down to my coat. “You,” he spits out.
When he grabs his meat cleaver, I dart back outside and find myself amidst a crowd of people. I bump into a woman’s back. She turns around, gasps, and points at me. “It’s her! It’s the Twice Born!”
I’ve had countless nightmares like this, where my true identity is revealed and people stare at me as if I’m a monster. But this feels worse. It’s too vivid and too terrible to be anything but reality. I cry out when the butcher grabs a handful of my hair and tosses me to the ground.
“Your kind isn’t welcomed here,” he growls at me, wielding the cleaver as he stalks toward me. “I heard about what that Tracker said this morning; that a witch like you was responsible for the plague that killed my wife and children.”
This must be why Ashin killed that girl this morning. He wanted to turn the people against me, to prepare them for my kind, so their hatred for us would become real and we wouldn’t be safe anywhere in Carnolay.
“I didn’t kill your wife or children,” I say, hoping I sound calmer than I feel.
I look past him at the Tracker coming toward us. I’m desperate enough to pray he’ll reach me before this man decides to act.
“You might not have killed them, but no doubt you have blood on your hands. You’re all the same. I won’t give you the chance to hurt anyone else!”
With a grunt, the butcher pulls his arm back, aiming the cleaver at my skull.
Someone crashes into him, and they both hit the ground.
Daniel. There’s a collective gasp from the onlookers lined up on the side of the street. I scramble to my feet and back up toward the butcher shop. I should attempt to run, but I can’t leave Daniel. Not after he’s risked his life to save me.
He jumps to his feet and gives our audience and the Trackers a glare. “Nobody hurts her. Otherwise you’ll have to deal with me. Is that clear?”
Intimidated by his ruthless tone, the people gathered remain still. All except one man, who steps out from behind a group of people.
I groan at the sight of him.
“I sincerely hope you’re keeping her alive for us, Daniel,” Ashin says, “and not because of any misguided feelings you might have toward her.”
Daniel turns to face Ashin, his arms tense at his sides.
“Don’t,” I whisper to him. “Don’t try to help me, Daniel. They outnumber you.”
“It doesn’t matter. I don’t exactly have a choice at this point.”
He does. But he’s too honorable to leave me to face Ashin alone, so it’s up to me to prevent him from getting himself killed. I stand, wincing at the burst of pain in my hip and limp past Daniel. “You want me?” I say to Ashin. “Here I am. I surrender.”
I take a step toward the Tracker, but Daniel grabs my arm. “Don’t be foolish, Bree.”
My gaze moves over the crowd. I take in their angry faces, their mutters of hate.
Witch.
Murderer.
She shouldn’t even be allowed to live.
Even if Daniel stops Ashin, these people won’t let me walk away from here unscathed. Half of the inhabitants of Belveer were killed by the plague five years ago. Every single one of these people was affected somehow, and knowing that a Twice Born like me was responsible blinds them. I might as well have started the plague.
“The only choices we have left are foolish ones,” I say. “But there’s no reason for both of us to make them.”
“Witch!” someone screams.
The side of my head erupts with pain, so acute that everything turns dark for a moment. Daniel grabs me before I land on the ground. “Do something before they kill her,” Daniel snaps at the Tracker closest to us, never taking his eyes off Ashin.
The Tracker marches over to the culprit and wrenches another rock out of his hand. He grabs the man by the collar, lifts him off the ground. “This is the Sunblade’s affairs, and that girl is our prisoner. If she dies here, you will have to answer to Master Ellis. I suggest you control your anger, sir.”
Red-faced, the young-looking man nods vigorously. He gasps in relief when the Tracker sets him back down.
I run my hand over the wound. It feels moist. Daniel spares me a quick glance, his face darkening when he spots blood on my fingers. “Are you all right?”
“Yes,” I say quickly. My whole head pulses with the pain. “Just a surface wound.”
“Your desire to protect the Twice Born is touching, Daniel,” Ashin says. “I’m afraid there’s nothing you can do to help her. She’s mine.” He holds out his hand to me, beckoning me over. “Come here, girl, or I’ll step aside and allow this hungry crowd to devour you.”
I hesitate long enough for Daniel to make a move. Pulling out the sword at his side, he assumes a fighting stance. There is none of that old gentleness on his face. His brown eyes are narrowed, glimmering with anger. This is personal. He wants to stop Ashin as much as he wants to protect me.
Ashin laughs. He turns to the Tracker who fell in the canal. Water drips from his limp black hair. I stare at his hand, which has returned to normal. I remember what Celine said about shifting, how lack of focus and good planning diminishes its power. My carelessness and urgency must have made the ability ineffective.
Ashin points at Daniel. “Arrest this boy. His uncle will deal with his childish tantrum.”
“No,” Daniel says. “Arrest him for murdering an innocent girl.”
The man looks between the two of them. He does nothing. None of them do—it’s be one against one. But Ashin is too experienced, too ruthless. This match is far from even.
The amusement on Ashin’s face fades. “Very well. I will take care of you myself.”
He unsheathes his weapon and attacks Daniel. Their swords clash, over and over as they swing and stab at each other. Though Daniel’s movements are sloppy, the mark of an inexperienced fighter, he recovers quicker and hits harder.
It’s not enough. Ashin adjusts to his attacks, appearing to predict where the next will come from before Daniel even raises his sword. He ducks under a wide slash and kicks Daniel in the chest, sending him on his back. Daniel rolls up on his feet quickly and blocks a few blows before he miscalculates and leaves his torso open.
I gasp when Ashin’s sword cuts through his upper arm. Blood seeps out from the wound, staining his tunic. The wound isn’t deep, but one thing is immediately clear. Ashin won’t hesitate to kill him.
I have to stop him.
My options are pretty bleak. If I throw myself into the fray, these Trackers will stop me. Worse, our captivated crowd will stop me. They won’t have any qualms about killing me. And even if I make it to Ashin, I’m not Eve. I don’t have her strength, her speed.
But I have my shifting.
Daniel crashes into a fruit stand, flips over the counter, and lands in a mess of squashed papayas and crushed grapes. He gasps, fighting for breath. My already pounding heart picks up speed. Get up, get up.
To my relief, he kicks out at Ashin and catches him in the gut.
He won’t be so lucky next time.
I think of Celine. Something about her shifting has lingered in the back of my mind, overshadowed by more pressing, urgent thoughts.
I’ve seen her shift multiple times, but on two occasions, she managed to do so without using her hands. The first time was when the cup exploded in my hands. The second was today, when she caused the earth to change beneath my feet.
I focus my attention on Ashin’s hand, the one holding the weapon. It moves too fast; my power can’t latch onto it. A throbbing pain settles deep in my head, and my eyes become blurry. Frustrated, I shake my head to clear my vision and lock my gaze back on the two fighters.
My power doesn’t shrink to a needlepoint as it always does. Instead it travels in the air like waves of heat, shimmering through the space between Ashin and me. It wraps around his arm. I feel a tug deep in my skull each time he swings his sword at Daniel.
It’s always easier to make something weak instead of strong, Celine said.
I think of the front window of the bakery behind him.
Glass.
His arm is too large to affect all at once, so I start with his fingers, working my way across his palm and up his wrist. Ashin’s face changes into horror. He stops swinging the weapon and stumbles away from Daniel.
“She’s shifting!” he shouts, jabbing an index finger in my direction.
The Tracker closest to me backhands me across the face, breaking my concentration. I fall to my knees. Fatigue drags at my bones and muscles. I’m so tired that even a gentle wind would send me flat on my back. I force myself to look at Ashin.
It took everything in me to shift his hand, but the damage has been done. His hand, at least all the way to his wrist, is made entirely of glass. My relief dries up as I look closer. The fingers are changing back, becoming the color of flesh.
I focus again, trying to stop the regression. The hand starts changing again, becoming translucent and glass-like. My eyes tear and the pounding in my head increases until I can’t strain any longer. I can’t keep doing this.
It’s all up to Daniel now.
“Stop him!” Ashin screams as Daniel continues his assault. He has stopped attacking and is on the defense. “Do something, you imbeciles!”
The Trackers remain standing still, caught between the authorities of their superiors.
Wearing a determined expression, Daniel swings his weapon down on Ashin. Ashin’s glass hand is frozen around his sword. The only way for him to block the attack is to lift his own sword into its path.
Ashin grabs the hilt with both hands and raises it. The impact still shatters the glass hand. The sword and fragments of glass hit the ground, the clatter drowned out by his screams.
I flinch, expecting the next blow to slice off his head. But Daniel stops attacking. He lowers his weapon, his chest rising and falling as he tries to steady his breathing.
“You’re done here,” he says. “I should kill you now, but that would make me no better than you. I want you to get out of Belveer. Go back to Rakoshan if you want, but you’re not welcome here. You are a plague, Ashin, and I won’t let you send our land back into a dark age.”
Daniel doesn’t wait for Ashin’s response. He searches for me in the crowd and finds me where I kneel on the side of the street. Looking away from his enemy is his biggest mistake.
“No!”
My scream comes too late. Ashin grabs the sword in his left hand and thrusts it upward, sinking it into Daniel’s stomach.
A collective cry from the audience. Clutching his middle, Daniel staggers back and falls to the ground. I leap to my feet and run over to him, my body charged with a rush of emotions. Before I can reach his side, one of the Trackers grabs me around the waist and spins me around. I fight him, kicking and screaming as he drags me away.
Ashin staggers to his feet. “Come, you fools,” he snaps at the Trackers.
Two Trackers lead me between them, gripping me under the arms and dragging me whenever my legs give out. They crowd me closely, not allowing me to look back at Daniel.
It’s over. All these years running from Trackers has led me right into their clutches.
The worst part is that it might be over for Daniel, too.