“You remember what he died for.”
“I do.”
Glenn didn’t take her eyes off the sweep of the dark water below.
“I want you to make me a promise,” she said. “If I lose myself, if I become what she did, you’ll stop me.”
“That’s not going to happen. Opal can help you.”
“Promise me,” Glenn insisted.
Kevin relented. “I promise,” he said. “Now come on. We should — ”
Glenn pulled Kevin into her arms and found his lips with hers.
One of his hands pressed against her lower back and drew her body close while the other rose up until his fingers were tangled in her hair.
Their breath passed hot and fast between them. They had been this close before, but now that the nightshade was nearly gone, there was no barrier between them at all. No thoughts, no fears, just tides of warmth radiating off of him and enveloping her. He flowed into her and she into him.
29
When they parted, there was only a sliver of space between them filled with the white steam of their breath. Glenn brushed her fingertips along the stubble on the side of his head.
“That night on the train platform,” Glenn said. “I guess I just wanted to have something that didn’t change. You know?”
Kevin leaned in so his forehead touched hers. “Yeah,” he said, his voice husky.
“But you never really did,” Glenn said. “Did you?”
Their eyes met.
“You were stalwart.”
Glenn kissed him again and then her arms fell from his shoulders as she took a step away.
“Glenn.” Kevin reached out to her, but Glenn faded backward and slipped up into the air. “What are you …”
“Take them and go,” she said as she rose into the trees. “I’ll buy what time I can. Just remember what you promised!”
“Glenn!” Kevin shouted. But it was too late. She was gone.
Kevin’s cries faded as Glenn climbed above the trees, lost in the whipping wind and the sounds of battle that seemed closer all the time.
The air was thick with smoke and the million jumbled impressions of the armies and their victims, a maze of feelings all competing for her attention. Glenn had never felt anything like it. Her head spun and she pushed herself higher to get away from it.
She swept the clouds aside and there were the stars, the glittering violence of their explosions turned beautiful and still with distance and time. Glenn traced their patterns, leaping from one to the other, seeing the constellations rise in the pathways. All of the confusion of the place below — the struggle between meaningless distinctions — seemed foreign up in the speckled black, inconsequential.
A line of blue-white stars stood out before Glenn. She settled on them, transfixed with their familiarity. As she watched them, three words, whispers at first, slowly grew louder until Glenn could finally make them out.
“Alnitak. Alnilam. Mintaka.”
Glenn gritted her teeth and fought the urge to rise higher. There was something she had to do and there wasn’t much time. The nightshade was giving her a bit of control, but soon it would be gone.
She had to push Sturges and his people out before she lost herself completely.
The stars slipped away as she descended. Below her was a scene of almost complete devastation. A band of ground extending a mile or more from the border had been bombarded nearly flat by Sturges’s trebuchet and other war machines whose function Glenn could only guess at. It was a wasteland of fallen trees, wrecked homes, and raging fires.
The leading edge of the invasion was now west of the border, marked out in blooms of flame that sprang from the ruins of villages and ate into the forest. Thousands of troops followed behind the fires, dark silhouettes relentlessly pushing forward against the orange flames.
Every now and then they would stop, blocked by some hasty collection of farmers or remnants of the Magisterium’s army. The battles were brief and terrible, screams quickly silenced, and then the Colloquium forces marched on.
The air was choked with the misery and pain of the people of the Magisterium. The incalculable loss. A steady rage began to build within Glenn.
She remembered what Opal had told her. Voices in a crowded
room. She shut her eyes, trying to focus past the din of blood and fear.
Amidst the voices she singled out the gusts of wind that swirled over and through her. She breathed in and out, urging them forward. As she did, the wind built to a low howl, bending the trees and blowing in ranks of thick clouds. Soon the stars and the moon were blocked out and it grew bitterly dark.
The clouds were heavy with the storms brewing inside them.
Glenn left the winds and listened to them instead. A light rain began to fall — finger taps on her shoulders at first, but the more Glenn concentrated, the stronger they grew, from a whisper to a torrent. Soon sheets of water, blown nearly sideways by hurricane-force gales, assaulted the ground. The sky filled with a gray blur of wind and water.
One by one, the fires winked out and then the earth, made unstable by the attacks, began to shift. Mudslides formed all along the Colloquium’s line. Men marched on, nearly blind, to what they thought was solid ground, only to have it vanish in an instant, transformed into waves of mud and fallen trees. An entire company was mounting a lone hillside when it was washed away in a boiling rush of earth, the red-armored bodies tumbling away like ants. Glenn bore down hard, reaching into the earth and shaking it beneath their feet, opening great rents in the rock.
Still, it wasn’t enough. After the initial surprise, more soldiers swarmed across the border and crashed into the first wave, urging them onward. Sturges’s bombardment began again from a line of trebuchets behind the advance. Shards of metal whistled through the air and crashed into the earth in front of the marching soldiers, destroying anything that stood in their way. Glenn looked down at the wind-and rain-swept land and cursed herself for thinking she could be some kind of hero.
She hung there, helpless. It was all so much and moving so fast.
The voices grew louder and more confused. Glenn couldn’t keep them separate any longer. A projectile ripped through the air only feet from Glenn’s shoulder before smashing to earth. At the moment of its crash, there was a brief burst of greenish light amidst the destruction. It was a pulse and then it was gone, but there was something in it. Something familiar.
Glenn scanned the area below and saw more and more of them: bursts of green light appearing across the entire face of the landscape like a net. Glenn lowered herself and reached out to them. The light moved through the air and flowed across her. There was a presence buried within the light. And then it hit her.
Her essence was coursing through them. It was as clear as if she had signed her name on them. But what were they?
Another projectile crashed through the sky but Glenn ignored it, concentrating on the web of lights she saw, crisscrossed like the bars of a cell. Everything in Glenn went still.
The soldiers were pushing even farther into the Magisterium. A string of villages lay just within their reach. Glenn could feel the people cowering inside them.
Glenn shut everything else out and opened herself up to the complex of lights. They pulsed around her and
