Black City (42 page)

“This is a message for Purian Rose. I’ve realized something about you. You’ve terrorized us, turned families against each other, made us fear the Darklings, and why? Because without fear, you have no power,” I say. “Well, I’m not afraid of you anymore. I will not live my life in fear. From this day on, you have no power over me or the people of this city.”

Beetle stands up and pumps his fist in the air, shouting, “No fear, no power. No fear, no power!”

His protest call is picked up by the rest of Humans for Unity, then the crowd, before sweeping across the whole city like rolling thunder, thousands of voices chanting in unison, “NO FEAR, NO POWER! NO FEAR, NO POWER!”

I face the cross again. Ash is now lying on the ground, his arms and chest blackened and burned. Sebastian roughly peels the silver chains off Ash’s wrists and ankles; the metal has seared into his skin, and I cover my mouth to stifle a sob.

Minister Fisher, Day, Beetle and Sigur join me. We all watch in silence as Minister Fisher cradles his son’s body and lovingly strokes Ash’s hair. I expect it to stir and coil around his father’s fingers like it normally would, but it remains still. Everything about Ash is so still.

Day and Beetle hug me. I choke back the tears.

“We should get him ready for So’Kamor,” Sigur says softly.

Ash’s dad shakes his head. “He’s having a human burial. It’s how he was raised.”

Sigur doesn’t argue.

Sebastian hovers nearby. A wooden cart has been brought over to take Ash’s body away.

“I want to say good-bye first,” I say.

Minister Fisher gently lays the body back on the ground, and I kneel beside Ash. I move a strand of hair away from his closed eyes. He looks so peaceful, you’d almost think he was asleep.

“So begins my heart, so begins our life, everlasting,” I whisper.

I press my lips against his.

A powerful jolt of electricity passes between us. It zings through my body, straight into my heart.

I gasp.

A second, faint heartbeat joins mine.

I grip Ash’s hands, and the heartbeat gets stronger.

Please, please, please.

His eyes flicker open.

EPILOGUE

ASH

NATALIE SLINGS MY BANDAGED ARM
around her shoulder and supports me as we leave the hospital. The burns will never fully heal, even with my Darkling regenerative abilities; I will always bear the scars of my execution. It’s been a few days since my “miraculous resurrection,” as the papers are calling it. Of course, Natalie and I know the truth. When my heart stopped beating, it triggered the dormant
Trypanosoma vampirum
in my blood, which kept enough oxygen circulating in my body to stop brain death. Then when Natalie kissed me, it reactivated my heart and . . . well, here I am.

Obviously, the truth isn’t anywhere near as impressive as the idea of me being a messiah. “Black Phoenix,” they’re calling me. The boy who rose from the ashes.

I’m not comfortable being the poster boy for Humans for Unity’s revolution, but at least I’m not doing it alone. After her televised outburst at my execution, Humans for Unity asked Natalie to be their ambassador. They’ve united with the Legion Liberation Front to defend the city, as we all know a reprisal is coming after the whole city cried out, “No fear, no power!”

I was worried Natalie would be arrested after admitting to everyone that she loved me, but that hasn’t happened. The Sentry government must be afraid of what will happen if they arrest either of us; it could be the spark that ignites civil war.

We walk down City End toward my house, following the line of the Boundary Wall. I don’t feel any desire to be on the other side. Everything I have, everything I need, is right beside me now.

Of course, I’d like to see the wall come down one day. There’s still a division between the citizens about whether or not we should reintegrate the Darklings into society. Maybe in time it will happen, but it’s going to take a lot of persuading. We can’t go back to the way things were before the war, with Darklings feeding on humans and poisoning them with Haze. We have to come up with a new solution that satisfies everyone. Things won’t happen overnight, as Roach keeps reminding me.

Until then, I’m going to spend as much time with Natalie as possible. It’s not every day you get a second chance at life, and a second chance to be with the girl you love.

She smiles up at me, her beautiful blue eyes sparkling.

“I love you,” I say to her.

“I love you too,” she says, then kisses me.
We enter the Rise and find my house nestled between the two sleeping giants as always, except I know immediately something’s wrong. The church looks like it’s been shaken by an earthquake—pews are upturned, holy books are scattered across the floor, windows are smashed.

“What’s going on?” I say.

Dad looks anxiously at the Sentry guards surrounding him.

“You have a visitor, in your room,” he says.

It’s only then that I notice one of the guards has a dagger poised at Dad’s neck. He shakes his head ever so slightly. I try to act casual, but panic is setting in. Natalie takes my hand, and we head to the bell tower.

“Who do you think it is?” she whispers.

I shrug. “Only one way to find out.”

I push open the door.

Purian Rose stands by the arched window, sinking his teeth into a bloodred, heart-shaped apple from the trees in the cemetery. Golden juice drips down his bottom lip, and he wipes it away with his thumb, turning his cold gray eyes toward us.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I helped myself to an apple from your orchard,” he says to me in his strange, light voice.

“That’s fine. They’re all filled with maggots anyway,” I say.

Purian Rose gives us a waxy smile. Up close, his skin has a very unpleasant, stretched look about it, and his hair is unnaturally black. He places the half-eaten apple carefully on the window ledge.

“What do you want?” I ask.

He sighs wearily. “I feel like I’ve been neglecting my spiritual duties as of late. It’s time I started paying a little more attention to my flock.”

His threat is clear: he’s keeping tabs on me and my dad.

“If you do anything to hurt my father . . . ,” I snarl.

Purian Rose gives me a chilling smile. “Well, that all depends on you now, doesn’t it?”

“How so?”

“I must confess, even as a religious man, I was quite surprised to see you rise from the dead. Some would say it was a sign from His Mighty.” He narrows his eyes at me. “I, of course, know better. Your resurrection was no miracle. You can die as easily as anyone else.”

“What’s your point? Other than you need to find a more effective way to execute me next time?” I say.

“My point, Mr. Fisher, is I don’t like false prophets. Especially ones that threaten to unbalance the society I have spent the past fifteen years so carefully building.”

“Then why don’t you just arrest me or kill me?” I say. “I’m right here. Now’s your chance.”

“There is nothing I would love more than to slice your throat, but all that will do is make a martyr of you and give Humans for Unity more ammunition to rally support against me.” He looks out the window at Black City. “And arresting you will just arouse anger. The people of this city seem to have taken you into their hearts. I hear they call you Black Phoenix? The ‘boy who rose from the ashes.’”

My heart freezes.

Purian Rose turns his gaze back to us. “No, Mr. Fisher, I intend to break you down, piece by piece, until you’re begging me to kill you.”

He sweeps out of the room, and the door bangs shut behind him.

The instant he’s gone, Natalie buries her face against my chest. She’s trembling all over. I hold her until she’s calmed down. “Why can’t he just leave us alone?” she eventually says.

“He’s trying to frighten us,” I say, releasing her. “But threatening me isn’t going to work. If it’s a fight he wants, then that’s what he’s going to get.”

I stride over to the arched window, where Purian Rose had been just moments before. I look out across the city, at the burned ruins of the houses bombed during the war, at the thousands of white crosses decorating the city cemetery, at the familiar black line on the horizon separating us from the Darklings.

The half-eaten apple rests on my window ledge, a dark reminder of his threats. I toss it out of the window.

Natalie takes my hand, and my heart squeezes.

“I thought the war was over,” she says sadly.

I press my lips against hers in response. Her body is warm against mine, and I hold her like this for a while. I don’t have the heart to tell her what I’m really thinking:

The war’s only just begun.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Writing a book is a very strange, solitary process. For endless months it’s just you and your characters, and the real world around you becomes the fantasy. Then one miraculous day you look up from your computer, blink against the light, and realize you have a story ready to show to the world. However, getting the story from your laptop to the bookstores requires a whole team of extraordinary people, and while it’s going to be hard saying “thank you” to all of you, I’m going to give it a try!

Firstly, I would like to acknowledge the two women who have made this dream possible: Ayesha Pande and Stacey Barney, my agent and editor. Ayesha, thank you for seeing past the vampires and taking a risk on my story. You are the best agent an author could ever ask for. Stacey, thank you for being my own personal cheerleader and for bringing the world “Nash”! You have made every step of this process an absolute joy and I am truly blessed to be working with you. My eternal gratitude must also go to Team Putnam: Cindy Howle, Ana Deboo, Linda McCarthy, and Erin Dempsey. Thank you for your faith and hard work.

A big thank you also goes to my friends, colleagues and extended family, Kate Richards, Vernon Richards, Edward Selley, Colin Brown, Angela Cranfield, Emma Cash, Robyn Bateman, Natalie Banyard, Emma Watkins, Faye Thomassen, Peter Gibb, and the Apocalypsies. You have offered me encouragement, support and vodka in equal measure, all of which was desperately needed.

There are, of course, some very special people I must thank, for you have played a key role in every stage of this journey. Mum and Pops, thank you for your love and guidance, I hope I’ve made you proud. Ruth Morris and Carol Armstrong, thank you for your unwavering faith in me. Genny Brown, you were my muse for Evangeline, I hope she does you justice. Amelia Vincent, thank you for the stunning author photo, your talents never cease to amaze me. Kirsty Morris Selley, thank you for your “very good” words of advice (ha ha), I owe you that holiday in Fiji. Tracy Buchanan, thank you for your friendship, brilliant insight, and for the endless hours you have dedicated to reading
Black City
. We did it, kiddo! And finally, a very special thank you to my Blood Mate, Rob Richards, for always believing in me, even in my darkest days, and for being so patient and understanding when I was lost in the burning streets of Black City. Without you there is nothing.