The Stitch
THE FRIGID AIR BLOWING through the wound on my shoulder wasn’t quite enough to drag me back to the land of the living. Something sharp poking into the tip of my nose, however, did the trick.
“Leave me alone,” I slurred. I’d lost a lot of blood. And, more importantly, a lot of jinsei. I didn’t know how long I’d been out, but it was long enough. The last threads that had held my core together were snapped. I was empty.
Hollow.
Again.
“Get up,” a familiar voice muttered in my ear. “They haven’t figured out how to cross the gap yet, but they will. You must finish this before that happens.”
Hahen?
“I’m dead,” I told the rat spirit. “Like, really dead.”
That was the only thing that made sense. The construct had nearly ripped my arm off. I’d been bleeding on the stones for who knew how long. And now my friend, who couldn’t possibly be anywhere near me, was talking to me.
I was dead. I had to be.
“Nowhere near dead,” Hahen said. “You have a disciple-level core. If half losing most of an arm were enough to kill a warrior with your strength, your ancestors never would’ve been able to slay the dragons. Get up. You must reach the Flame before anyone else. It’s your only chance.”
I tried to raise myself up on my left arm, before I remembered I didn’t really have much of a left arm anymore. I sat up, pulled my mutilated limb onto my lap, and bound it to my chest with a scrap of cloth I tore from the hem of my robe. It was ugly work, but it was the best I could manage in my current condition. Satisfied it wouldn’t jostle around too much, and gritting my teeth against the pain, I stood.
“Thank you, Ha—” The rat spirit was nowhere to be seen.
Had I imagined him? He’d seemed so real.
The construct was still down. The Machina lay in its fractured chest, a dull square of hammered copper that looked wholly unremarkable. How could something like that have caused so much trouble?
Behind me, the rest of the competitors were shouting at one another. Trulissinangoth wanted my team to help her across. Of course, Clem, Abi, Eric, and Hagar were having none of that. Hagar unleashed a stream of profanity that left the rest of us agape. I’d never heard her talk like that, but clearly her time on the front lines had taught her a few things we’d never learned at school.
Tochi and Aesgir were arguing, too. Aesgir saw this as his chance to take out a dragon and wanted the Jinsei Institute’s members to help him reach one of them. With one of his number already lost to a dragon’s superior strength and skill, Tochi refused to commit any of his people to what he believed was a suicide mission.
Good. As long as the other teams were squabbling amongst themselves, I still had at least a few minutes.
I forced myself to walk to the construct. If I’d had more time, I’d have taken the Machina with me. My clan would want to see it.
Maybe we could use it to track down my mother.
But, there wasn’t time to pry it out of the construct’s chest. I doubted I’d have the strength to do it, anyway. There wasn’t even enough jinsei left in my body to heal my wounds, and blood ran from the ugly hole through my shoulder in a steady flow.
It was okay. One more short walk, and I’d reach the Flame. It would heal my core, and then...
And then what?
I wouldn’t be any better off than I was now. Sure, my core would be fixed, but the world would still be in chaos. The Inquisition, the very people who’d tried to sell the rest of humanity out to the dragons for their own benefit, would remain in power. The Grand Design was still just as damaged as ever.
This didn’t feel like a victory. It felt like I was letting the bad guys keep the status quo.
I didn’t want to do that.
And, I realized, I didn’t have to. There was a way I could change everything.
While the others argued about what they should do, I reached inside the battered construct. Jinsei throbbed within the Machina’s artificial core. Now that it was inert, I didn’t see any defenses that would stop me from taking the sacred energy.
Except, I was a hollow core again. I couldn’t hold the jinsei I’d drain. It would all be wasted.
While I chewed on that problem, I found the latches that held the copper restraints in place. I opened them with my good hand, and the cables popped free of the metal cube. I pulled it out and sat on the floor with the Machina in my lap. It felt totally alien and completely familiar at the same time. My mother’s creation was far more advanced than the equipment I’d stolen from her lab last year.
This Machina was something different, something purer, and something far more dangerous than anything the heretics had used before.
It was perfect.
And if I’d had enough jinsei, I’d even have been able to use it.
It took me long seconds to remember the vial in my belt. With shaking fingers, I pulled Christina’s gift from where I’d hidden it and popped off its cap. I downed the contents in a single gulp and offered up a silent prayer my plan would work.
The jinsei sloshed in my stomach like a gulp of warm tea. A tingling sensation grew from my center, and slowly, sacred energy dripped into my channels.
I ignored all the warnings from Ishigara about tampering with my core and went to work.
It took me several tries to control the slow jinsei. Finally, just when I was sure I’d failed, a thin thread of silver power rose from my channels to obey my command. I’d be able to finish my crazy plan. I cradled the cube against my chest and imagined a thread of sacred energy curving
