Thirty-SixWinds
MARIBELLE
Where is she?
The gala guests are taking forever to clear the room, too busy tripping over each other’s dress hems, and making it hard for me to track down June. There’s no way she’s sitting this one out. Luna’s life’s work is dependent on this phoenix.
Once I get my hands on her, I won’t let her go.
I’m not messing around as I lay out acolytes left and right. I flip out of the way so an oncoming spell slams into an acolyte trying to sneak up on me with a dagger. One acolyte boldly swings at me, so I duck and rise with a scissor kick, breaking her nose. I carry another into the air and drop him through a display of different phoenix eggs. I’m sure someone is filming this, and it’s all going to be used against me, but the world needs to know that someone as deadly and deathly as June exists. A barrage of spells presses me into a corner, hiding behind the stage with the massive screen intended to air the phoenix’s birth. I peek, and the acolytes are rounding the stage any moment, and I can’t float high enough to get above the screen to escape back to the other side. I’m about to call for Atlas or Wesley when I hear grunts and screams. I check for the damage with a pounding heart and see Brighton standing proudly with his wand outstretched.
“There she is,” Brighton says, pointing his wand across the museum.
June.
I don’t take my eyes off her as I call for Wesley. He appears by my side in moments. “June is at two o’clock. Grab her and don’t let go.”
He dashes away up the wall, and I take off into a hard run so she sees me coming, long enough to distract her. Atlas calls for me to watch my back, but that’s what he and the others are here for. Glass shatters behind me, and I don’t care, the target is June. Wesley’s blur shoots down from the wall behind June, and he collides into her, his arms tightly wrapped around her as they roll across the floor. June’s eyes glow as she tries escaping his grip, but it’s no use.
“You’re finished,” I say as I grab her by the throat.
“Maribelle,” Wesley says with concern.
“Go!”
She’s all mine.
This girl possessed my mother and took my family away from me. There’s no sign of fear in her eyes. There’s still time.
I carry her into the air and slam her face-first onto the floor. I flip her over and lay into her. Punch for Mama. Punch for Papa. Punch for Finola. Punch for Konrad. Punch after punch for every celestial who’s been blamed and hurt and locked up and killed because of the Blackout. The flesh on my knuckles is splitting open, and my glistening blood is mixing with hers. I don’t even feel the pain. Having this assassin pinned under me and at my mercy is a surge of adrenaline like never before.
“Mari! Mari!” Atlas calls.
I keep my hand around June’s throat as I turn, feeling her struggling underneath me. The Spell Walkers are being overpowered by spellwork. Emil is up on the balcony with Ness at his side and he’s throwing fire-darts, but not at his usual speed or strength. Wesley is running around Stanton, doing his best to avoid that poisonous mist while also trying to get some hits in. Iris is fighting a six-armed Dione, whose neck is caked in blood. I finally find Atlas in the chaos, and he’s bleeding from his left shoulder and right forearm, making it harder for him to use his power against the onslaught of acolytes.
I have to end June now, otherwise Atlas and I will never truly be safe. She will eventually find our haven and slice our throats in the middle of the night.
I get a chill, a warning, and then shake and scream as something sharp digs into my side—a piece of glass June grabbed off the floor from a shattered display. She twists the shard in me, and I lose my grip long enough for her to shove me off her. I lunge, but she’s untouchable and staring up at me with her face masked in our blood.
June saunters toward me. She’s not threatening. She can’t hurt me unless she’s corporeal, and I can’t imagine this silent assassin is feeling good about round two. But she doesn’t stop, and her eyes that glow like flickering eclipses come closer to mine until she vanishes from sight, and I become so cold it’s like I’m naked in a freezing ocean.
My body doesn’t feel like my own anymore. I stand without meaning to and take steps like I’m on autopilot. June has possessed me. I don’t know if she can hear my screams. I’m panicking and suffocating inside my own body. I can feel the movement of every muscle, the floor underneath every step, but none of the decisions are mine. This is how helpless Mama must’ve felt, and out of all the experiences we dreamed about sharing together as mother and daughter, being occupied by a ghostly assassin wasn’t on the list.
There is so much chaos. Luna is watching by the door with the phoenix egg, and I want to call for Wesley to snatch it and run far, far away, but he’s dizzying Stanton. Atlas is hovering above the acolytes, dodging spellwork. He calls my name again, but this isn’t me walking toward him, not really. June picks up a wand with my hand, and I can feel a faint hum against my palm—there’s still enough charge in here for one spell. When June raises the wand, I expect to find it against my head—but to kill me, she’ll have to kill us both.
I aim—no, June aims—the wand at Atlas and the winds carrying him vanish as the spell hits his heart.
Thirty-SevenDark Yellow
MARIBELLE
Atlas crashes through glass right as June falls out of my
