Infinite (27 page)

Ruin Janan’s life by saving the phoenix.

“Maybe I can annoy him to death,” I muttered.

“I’ve never heard a plan more likely to succeed.” Sam paused as we reached the top of the stairs. “Inside, I think. We can exit through one of the side doors.”

“Good idea.” The glass on the double doors had blown out at some point, probably during the eruption. Our boots crunched the shards, and inside, we had to stop so I could pull out the biggest pieces. I didn’t want either of us to slip.

The Councilhouse was dim and silent. The air smothered our steps, and Sam’s rasping breath. We paused in a washroom to better clean Sam’s shoulder and rinse the blood and grit from our faces and mouths, but after a few long drinks of water, we hurried on. Janan wasn’t moving quickly, but there was no time to waste.

“I wish I knew what he planned on doing with the phoenix,” I muttered as we headed through the library. Then I realized how stupid I’d been. How blind.

I’d assumed we would all die in the first eruption, and that would be it. No reincarnation. Nothing. But Sarit had been right when she said Janan needed people to rule. He wouldn’t let them die.

Five thousand years ago, he hadn’t become the leader by lying to his people. He’d have needed to be strong, able to protect them. He would have kept his promises.

He’d promised to become immortal, then return to do the same for them. That didn’t mean they’d have equal power. It meant he ruled them for eternity.

I dropped to the nearest sofa and buried my face in my hands. “Sam,” I said. “Janan is going to make you immortal.”

SAM COLLAPSED NEXT to me, breath heaving.

I studied him, the bloody mess of his hair, the gray pallor of his skin, and the red of injury and infection on his shoulder.

He wasn’t doing well. His body was giving out, and unless we found a medic soon, I couldn’t imagine he would recover. Sam was dying, slowly and painfully, and we both knew it.

“Are you sure?” His expression held a terrible mix of hope and despair. He didn’t want to die. No one did. And if everyone would soon be made immortal, maybe Stef and Armande and Whit and Sarit would be reborn.

But not me.

“I think so,” I whispered. “That’s why he wanted a phoenix. That’s why he has that knife.”

“No one will do it.” Sam’s voice dropped. “No one will consume millions of newsouls to be immortal.”

I didn’t argue, but I didn’t agree. They’d let Janan consume newsouls five thousand years ago. And they’d supported Deborl over the last few months. Some of them had gone out and captured a phoenix. Whit had accused me of losing my faith in people, but was it any wonder when everyone had bowed to Janan five thousand years ago? Some had changed—some knew better now, or loved newsouls and protested because of them—but for people, the memory magic meant they never had to feel the guilt of what they’d done.

“Besides,” Sam said, “the temple is gone.”

“Maybe he figured out another way.”

“Maybe.” Sam closed his eyes. “I wouldn’t do it. You know I wouldn’t.”

“He has the skeletons out there, from your very first lifetime. You might not have a choice.”

Sam heaved himself up, swaying on his feet. “Then we have to stop him.”

“Do you have a plan?”

“Besides you annoying him to death?” He offered his hand to help me up. I took his hand, but didn’t let him bear my weight. “The cage is hooked into electric lines. Maybe that’s keeping the phoenix from fighting back, or maybe Janan needs that in order to . . . you know.”

I knew. “So we head out the library door, try to blend into the crowd, and creep through it until we find the source of the electricity.”

“That sounds good.” He released my hand and pulled up his hood. “We should hide our faces.”

I reached up and adjusted his hood, smoothing his hair off his face. “Do you know where the electricity originates? Maybe one of those small buildings we came into from the aqueduct?”

Right before Whit died.

“No, I’m not sure. I wish . . .”

He wished Stef were here. I did, too.

“We’ll find it,” I whispered. “It’s one of those buildings.”

“I’m sorry, Ana.” He touched my shoulder, not quite disguising the fact that he needed me to balance. “I’m sorry for our selfishness five thousand years ago. This isn’t what life is supposed to be like. We’re supposed to live, then die, and maybe there’s something else after, like you said. Something good. I’m sorry that we were so afraid, and that we still are.”

I hugged him. “If you hadn’t, then I’d never have known you. I’d never have heard your music. You’ve been the most important person in my life from the first notes of Phoenix Symphony. I can’t regret what let us be together.” Even if our time was short. No matter what happened next. “I love you, Dossam.” Tears blurred my eyes, and everything inside me ached as I pulled away. I wanted to tell him a hundred times. A million. I needed him to feel my love in his soul.

If only there were time.

As we headed to the door, I couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if we stayed here. If we waited long enough, would Sam be miraculously healed when Janan finished outside? Would I be allowed to stay with him, at least until the ash had dispersed and I was sent back into exile?

We’d never know.

I pushed open the library door, but instead of slipping invisibly into the crowd, we came face-to-face with Janan.

He was only a little taller than me, but he wasn’t small. He was
compact
. Thick arms crossed his chest, all bulging muscle in spite of millennia without moving, and his eyes were deep-set and piercing. The wild hair might have made him look comical if the rest of him didn’t scream deadly power.

I spun and started to run, but Janan reached out and snatched my arm. His fingertips dug into my skin, even through the sleeve of my coat. I tried to pull away, but his grip only tightened, and he grabbed Sam’s arm, too. The hurt one. Sam cried out as his arm wrenched out of place, but Janan’s expression remained hard and angry.

He shoved us at a pair of red-clothed guards. “Bring them.”

As hands closed over me, I struggled to free myself, but there were too many. They were too strong, in spite of the fact that they’d been through eruptions and explosions, too. Some were bloodied and gasping. That didn’t stop them.

Sam fought back, but his arm was weak and he’d lost too much blood. Someone punched him in the gut. He doubled over and hung limp in their grasps.

I kept struggling, hitting and kicking wherever I could. If I could get away, I could figure out how to free the phoenix. But when I looked out beyond my immediate attackers, all I could see were people. Thousands of them. I’d never make it through.

I slumped. My whole body ached, and my heart twisted with fear and grief as I let them drag me to the phoenix cage. Skeletons waited around the cage, same as they’d sat in the red chamber of the temple, though now they were partially draped over one another, to make room for all the bodies pressing around, everyone looking eager and anxious and afraid.

Silver chains shimmered in the glow of the rocks. The skulls were eyeless but watching. Almost a million of them. One for every person here, and for people who’d left with newsouls. None for those who’d died in Templedark, though; those were still piled in the crater left behind after the temple exploded.

Sam and I were slammed on the ground near the cage, just inside the circles of skeletons. Janan stepped inside with us, watching impassively as Sam groaned and clutched his shoulder, his face contorted with pain.

“Sam!” I tried to crawl toward him but someone hit me, knocking me back down. My elbows slammed on the cobblestones, then my head. My thoughts swam like liquid.

“So, the mistake still lives.” Janan’s voice was harsh and deep, like a canyon speaking. “You intrigue me. For millennia, I’ve been alone but for my Hallow, and then you arrived. You flew past me. My new Hallow explained your father’s poison and how you came to be. And that you’ve tried to make a place for yourself in spite of everything.”

I glared up at him.

“I would be a poor ruler if I didn’t want my people to be happy and satisfied with their lives. I find that people who are content are less likely to cause trouble, as you have been doing.”

“How can I be content when you’re eating newsouls? When you’re manipulating the memories of your people? And lying to them?” My words came ragged and worn, though they’d felt full of strength and hate when I opened my mouth.

Janan nodded. “Yes. I understand your anger. Which is why I’m going to make you an offer.”

“You have nothing I want,” I growled.

Janan stepped around me, toward the cage.

“What are you doing?” My voice didn’t carry. He acted like he didn’t hear me. I checked around me. The people who’d dragged Sam and me here were gone, back with the crowd beyond the skeletons. I wondered what they thought of the two of us being up here. Like we were favored. It was so we wouldn’t try to escape, though.

Slowly, while everyone was distracted by Janan moving alongside the cage, I slid off my backpack. Was there anything useful inside? I tried to remember what we’d packed this morning. Medical supplies. Sticky gloves and boot covers; those were still on the roof. Flute; it would be a miracle if that wasn’t broken. A small tool kit Stef had scrounged for me. The knife Sam had given me a year ago. I wanted to scoot close to him and see if he was okay, but I needed to stop Janan. Sam would understand. He’d tell me to stop Janan first.

Janan drew his knife and slipped it into the cage and the cloth-covered bundle on the floor. My heart thundered as I crept closer. Surely he wouldn’t kill it yet.

The first rope snapped under the sharp blade. Then another. Was there anything I could do? I felt paralyzed, my thoughts thick and useless.

One by one, the ropes sliced apart and the heavy black cloth fell away.

It seemed a small sun appeared before me as the phoenix rose up and screamed, powerful and polyphonic. An orange glow turned white, and tears poured down my cheeks as immense wings lifted above its head, all glory and flame and black ash raining.

The phoenix was twice my size, with glittering plumage more beautiful than anything I’d ever seen. It had a hooked beak and great talons like a raptor, but I remembered the story from the temple books: the phoenixes hadn’t killed Janan and his warriors, because they didn’t want to end their cycle of rebirth.

Everyone gasped, and the crowd went perfectly silent as the phoenix gazed around at its captors.

I’d expected its eyes to be made of light, like every other piece of it, but when the large round eyes landed on me, they were black like moonless night. Like night if the stars had all gone out. They were deep and ancient and filled with sorrow.

Quiet rushed over the world. Even the blackness of ash outside the city seemed muted. Janan stepped onto a raised platform to address everyone.

“Five millennia ago, I searched for the key to immortality. When I was imprisoned for my knowledge, you came to free me, but I had another plan, one that would ensure we could all live eternally. Now I have returned to fulfill that promise.” Janan raised his voice. “Though I tried to protect you, I could not stop what you call Templedark or the slaughter that came that night. We’ve lost so many of our own. Nevertheless, we must begin to rebuild. As I’ve said, I want my people to be content.”

Janan turned his gaze on Sam, who pushed himself back into a sitting position. His shoulder was bleeding again, and his arm hung limp at his side. His skin was pale and shone with sweat as he edged closer to me, though his movements were slow and clumsy. He couldn’t do this much longer.

“Some,” Janan went on, “will never be content, knowing what they have lost. While I can do nothing for those fallen during Templedark, to show you I am not truly without heart, I will add one to our ranks.”

Sam looked at me. I looked at Janan. A low murmur rippled through the crowd.

“You’d make me immortal?” I asked. “Like everyone else?”

Janan nodded. “You and Dossam care for each other. You’ve fought hard to be part of this community.” He swept his arms over the crowd. “You were exiled, but that doesn’t have to be true any longer. You can live forever with your friends. With Dossam.”

My heart stumbled on itself. Life with Sam. With music.

“Ana.” Sam’s hoarse whisper drew me closer to him. Our eyes met, and he didn’t have to say what he was thinking. He’d already told me a thousand times.

He would choose me.

No matter the price, no matter the consequences. Sam would choose me.

My heart broke.

“You understand why I can’t, right?” I touched his face. My eyes ached with fresh tears. The salt stung cuts on my face.

He nodded. “I understand.”

I brushed my lips against his, then climbed to my feet to face Janan. Here was a chance to make the others see.

If there were any who’d been too afraid to speak up.

If there were any who’d wanted to make a choice, but hadn’t known how.

If there were any who wouldn’t stand for the slaughter of a phoenix and newsouls.

“What is the price of immortality?” My voice sounded wisp-thin, only a thread of a song, but I urged strength into it.

Janan spoke easily. “One life never lived. One tiny spark that will never know.” He motioned at the phoenix, which gazed over the assembly with unreadable eyes. “And this.”

Couldn’t everyone see how wrong this was? Whit and Orrin had insisted there were good people we were leaving behind. I
wanted
that to be true. I
wanted
them to stand up for what was right and prove all my fears wrong.

But no one moved.

What about the people we’d freed from prison? When I glanced over the crowd, I spotted familiar faces, but when our eyes met, they looked away.

“Five thousand years ago, you told everyone the phoenixes had imprisoned you because of the knowledge you gained, but that isn’t true. They imprisoned you because you captured a phoenix and tortured it.”

Everyone was silent. Staring.

“The phoenixes wouldn’t kill you for what you’d done, but they did give you eternity in a tower. Instead of repenting, you began exchanging souls. You reincarnated people because you couldn’t bear to be without them, and then you made them forget.”

Janan cocked his head and remained silent.

The whole city was silent, save ragged breathing and groans of dragons dying and the muted roar of the pyroclastic flow surging past.

No one was listening.

“It’s true.” Sam forced himself to sit a little straighter. “You stole our memories.”

Whispers sizzled through the crowd.

“You made them forget because you knew the guilt of trading a newsoul every lifetime would crush them,” I said. “You didn’t want them to know what you’d done.”

“You didn’t just trade their lives for ours,” Sam said. “You took newsouls, and you
ate
them. You consumed their souls for power. Our reincarnation was bought with that stolen life.”

“No. No.” The voices came from the crowd. Some of the people I’d freed from prison moved about the others, muttering and pointing.

“What I did before was wasteful,” Janan said. “Now I know a better way. One soul for infinite life. That’s all it will take now. No more death and rebirth. No more reincarnation. Just life.” Janan motioned to the phoenix. “And I have this.”

“I would die for other people,” I said, “and other people
have
died for me. We do it because of love. But I won’t accept an unwilling sacrifice. Not the phoenix, and not a soul that’s never lived.”

Janan nodded. “Very well. I was afraid you might feel that way, but I’d hoped otherwise. We will continue without you.”